Chapter XI
Acurious change took place over the next few days. Elizabeth had wondered about Miss Bingley’s apparent willingness to allow those days to pass without bringing Mr. Bingley together with Jane. When they resumed regular contact, Elizabeth noticed a new tactic.
It was some time before Elizabeth understood what she was seeing, as it was something she had not expected.
Their first meeting in those days was during a morning visit in which the Bingleys came to Gracechurch Street.
The second was at an evening dinner at an acquaintance.
Thereafter, there were several more encounters, all in mixed society, all at events beyond Miss Bingley’s control.
Only later did Elizabeth wonder if that explained her altered behavior.
“Excuse me, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth as she stood with the gentleman during an encounter with the Bingley siblings, “but does it seem to you that Miss Bingley is not so insistent as she was only a week ago?”
Mr. Darcy, who had not been present for the first morning visit but had attended each subsequent event, peered across the room, eyes missing nothing.
Jane was near Mr. Bingley, but rather than speaking alone, they were part of a larger group.
Miss Bingley was also part of that group, and while Elizabeth could not hear what she said, her attention was not so focused on the pair as it had been.
“Yes, I believe you are correct,” said Mr. Darcy at length.
“What do you make of it?”
The gentleman’s grin displayed his amusement. “You are asking me to divine the reason for anything Miss Bingley does?”
“If I am not mistaken, you were quite adept at doing so before,” rejoined Elizabeth, matching his mirth.
“About certain subjects, you are correct,” agreed Mr. Darcy. “In this instance, however, I fear I am not qualified to judge her actions.”
Then Mr. Darcy turned to her, mischievous like she had never seen before. “If I were to guess, I suspect it may be a bit of growing confidence on her part.”
Elizabeth turned to regard him with interest. “What do you mean?”
Mr. Darcy gestured to the other side of the room.
Matters had shifted a little, and now Jane was standing by Mr. Bingley, though they were still speaking in a group.
Mr. Bingley, she noted, appeared to be turned slightly toward her, suggesting the gentleman’s solicitude, but not to the extent he was in Hertfordshire.
“If you watch Miss Bingley,” said Mr. Darcy, “you may see something of satisfaction in her manner.”
Within moments, Elizabeth saw something of Mr. Darcy’s meaning.
Miss Bingley was not far from her brother, and she was speaking with another lady, but it was easy to see her eyes did not often stray from him.
When Mr. Bingley leaned over to say something to Jane, Miss Bingley’s lips curled just a little, and she turned back to her conversation.
“Yes, I can see what you mean,” said Elizabeth absently. “She does not know my sister so well as she supposes.”
It was Mr. Darcy’s turn to regard her, his expression asking after her meaning. Elizabeth did not hesitate to oblige.
“When Jane smiled at Mr. Bingley, it was her polite smile—friendship and warmth and nothing more.”
Mr. Darcy turned back to regard Jane and Mr. Bingley with a frown. “It appears that I am not so adept at reading your sister either, Miss Elizabeth, for the smile she offered him appeared the same as many others I have seen, including at the ball at Netherfield.”
“It is in her eyes and her bearing more than the expression,” replied Elizabeth.
“To own the truth, I am yet learning it myself—Jane has had few sincere suitors though she has always had much attention. When she esteems a man and wishes for his attention, her eyes light up, and she leans in just a little. The response that so pleased Miss Bingley had nothing of those qualities. She was polite and nothing more.”
“Thank you for explaining, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy. “Perhaps in time, I too shall understand your sister better.”
“Jane may be the study of a lifetime,” said Elizabeth, mischief and curiosity mingled. “Are you certain you will have such an opportunity? Or perhaps if Mr. Bingley bows out you have a closer connection with her in mind?”
“No, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy, his gaze on her not altering a jot. “Though your sister is everything lovely, I do not suppose that she is for me. Besides, should Bingley bow out, I suspect there is already another who will take up his standard.”
Elizabeth followed Mr. Darcy’s gesture to where Mr. Harrington was standing, speaking with another man with whom Elizabeth was only a little acquainted. While Mr. Harrington’s attention was ostensibly on his partner, his eyes were often on Jane.
“Do you know that, or is it just observation?”
Mr. Darcy shrugged. “If you recall, I mentioned our discussion.”
“Yes, I do,” said Elizabeth. “I too have noticed Mr. Harrington’s interest. I suppose there is nothing to do but wait.”
Elizabeth again turned playful. “Tell me, Mr. Darcy, do you expect to observe Jane through your friendship with Mr. Harrington?”
The gentleman regarded her and did not flinch. “No, Miss Elizabeth, though I must suppose that our friendship may become closer in the coming years. Rather, I had thought to observe her through a connection much closer than the wife of a friend.”
For several moments after, Elizabeth found she could not look away, for his eyes on hers were so captivating as to hold her with no chance of escape. That was when Miss Bingley’s other area of interest came into focus.
“Mr. Darcy,” said she. And then, in a tone calculated to portray civility, she added: “Miss Eliza.”
“Miss Bingley,” replied Elizabeth before the gentleman could find his wits. “How fortunate you have joined us, for we were just discussing my sister and your brother.”
A complex web of emotions crossed her face before she settled for pleasure, though Elizabeth could not decide how sincere it was.
“It is so wonderful,” said she; the complacency was not feigned so far as Elizabeth could see, but it was more self-congratulatory than pleased for the couple.
“Why, I dare say it will not be long before all is resolved to everyone’s satisfaction. ”
Though Elizabeth did not wish to make Jane’s life any more difficult, she could not resist the inclination to tweak Miss Bingley’s nose. “That is curious, Miss Bingley, for Jane appears calm and restrained.”
Miss Bingley stared at Elizabeth. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing in particular,” said Elizabeth, knowing she could not back down now.
“Jane is the most agreeable woman alive, but she is also no fool. We have not been in London for long, and Mr. Bingley was absent for two full months. Before he can claim her, Mr. Bingley will need to prove himself; that may yet take time.”
Several moments passed in which Miss Bingley attempted to gain some insight into Elizabeth’s comment. Then she discounted it, confident in her opinion.
“Perhaps you are correct,” said she. “We shall need to wait and see. Charles is impulsive, if you recall.”
“I do, indeed,” replied Elizabeth, leaving well enough alone.
Then Miss Bingley started talking to Mr. Darcy, and though she was not overt about it, she wished Elizabeth away so she could claim his attention for herself.
Elizabeth remained for a time, amused by her incivility, and when she thought she had annoyed Miss Bingley for long enough, she excused herself.
Mr. Darcy did not seem to appreciate it, given his plaintive look, but Elizabeth thought it wise to retain the appearance of civility with Miss Bingley.
Jane had also noticed Miss Bingley’s distance. As she was not as cynical as Lizzy, she avoided the obvious explanation that Elizabeth had come to, and accepted it as a reprieve. Mr. Bingley was still a man with whom she enjoyed conversing, and she did not mean to shame him by refusing to speak.
“I see you have noticed my sister’s distance too.”
Though surprised by his sudden comment, Jane did not hesitate. “What do you suppose motivates it?”
“Confidence, I should think,” replied Mr. Bingley, coming to the same conclusion as Mr. Darcy.
If it had been Lizzy, she would have made some witty comment designed to provoke, but Jane was not her sister. “Is your sister in the habit of molding events to her liking?”
Mr. Bingley all but rolled his eyes. “You have no notion, Miss Bennet. No notion at all.”
He fell silent, studying her for several moments, then said with an abundance of caution: “You are well, are you not?”
This was more than just a question about her comfort, whether she needed refreshment, or any other such query a gentleman might offer at a party.
It was Mr. Bingley asking after her state of mind, cautious and concerned.
Jane did not think now was the time to have the discussion she knew was inevitable, so she did her best to reassure him.
“Yes, Mr. Bingley, I am quite comfortable.”
“Good,” said Mr. Bingley.
They drifted apart soon thereafter, Mr. Bingley to a conversation with several other men while Jane turned to converse with another lady nearby. The conversation proved more banal than noteworthy. What happened next was far more interesting.
First, Mrs. Hurst approached, and while Jane had spoken to her before, most of her conversations were with Miss Bingley in attendance.
Jane could remember Mrs. Hurst’s behavior during the dinner at Netherfield before she had become ill, recalled her questions, the ill-concealed desire to learn of Jane’s connections.
Mrs. Hurst had said little after that, so Jane did not know her sentiments.
“Miss Bennet,” said she, her tone containing a quality Jane could not name. “We have spoken little of late. How have you been?”
“Very well, Mrs. Hurst,” said Jane, staying cautious. “Lizzy and I have enjoyed our time in London, and your sister has been most gracious.”