Chapter XI #3
It was several moments before Miss Bingley said anything, as she appeared to be trying to understand how best to respond.
Darcy waited, determined he would not make it easy for her.
The truth was that he now knew Miss Bennet’s feelings had been warmer than he supposed, but her knowledge of Bingley’s indecision had cooled that interest—let Miss Bingley make of it what she wished.
“It seems we were both mistaken,” said she at length, though she sounded like the admission cost her something she was not willing to give. “When I saw my brother moping about the house after our return, there was no other choice—I needed to right the wrong.”
Darcy refrained from laughing by the barest margin.
Miss Bingley altruistic? She was far too intent upon grasping that which she thought life owed her to confess error.
Had she any say in the matter, she would have connected her brother to the highest-born lady of society she could find, one of the few who tolerated her presence perhaps.
When that proved an impossibility, she had settled for ladies of more modest standing, then turned to Georgiana in desperation.
Nothing she had done had risen from concern for her brother.
“The question is,” said Darcy, “what is Miss Bennet’s opinion?”
Miss Bingley huffed with disdain. “Do you suppose that mother of hers will allow a mark such as my brother to escape?”
“Mrs. Bennet is not here,” said Darcy, quite reasonably.
“Yet her influence permeates everything.”
“You suppose she will dictate her daughter’s behavior from afar?”
“Yes, I do suppose it,” replied Miss Bingley. “You did not see her in Hertfordshire when I returned to invite Miss Bennet to London, Mr. Darcy. The woman was salivating at the notion that I supported Charles’s interest.”
Darcy thought about ending her assumptions, but one thought kept him from speaking. If he should open her eyes to the truth of Miss Bennet’s reservations, she would redouble her efforts. Darcy would not burden Miss Bennet any more than she already was.
“I can say nothing about Miss Bennet’s mind on this subject,” said Darcy at length. “What I can say is that my opinion of her is much improved since she came to London. There is something intrinsically good about her that is uncommon.”
“Of course,” said Miss Bingley, her eyes now fixed on Miss Bennet. “Jane is an excellent woman and will make a fine sister.”
Thereafter, Miss Bingley excused herself and made her way across the room to where Miss Bennet stood with Harrington.
Within moments, Harrington retreated, and she stood in a group again with Bingley a part of it.
Bingley regarded his sister with exasperation, but nothing seemed to pierce her self-satisfaction.
A moment later, Miss Elizabeth approached him.
“That is most diverting, Mr. Darcy,” said she, her arch manner drawing Darcy ever closer into her orbit. “She is not as insistent as she was only a few days ago, but she will not allow Jane to speak long with Mr. Harrington.”
Darcy considered this. “Perhaps I should suggest to Harrington that his interest would be better expressed if he were to visit Gracechurch Street.”
Though she stifled a laugh, Miss Elizabeth gave her agreement. “But only when Mr. and Miss Bingley are not visiting.”
Miss Elizabeth turned to him. “Did you know that Mrs. Hurst is far more pragmatic about this affair than her sister?”
“To own the truth, I have spoken with her on the subject,” replied Darcy. “Yet your comment suggests knowledge that I do not possess.”
“Mrs. Hurst approached me after she spoke to my sister,” said she. “Though she was quite circumspect, she does not expect Mr. Bingley to succeed with my sister.”
After a moment considering this, Darcy ventured: “Mrs. Hurst must know about Miss Whitcombe.”
“She must,” agreed Miss Elizabeth. “Mrs. Hurst expects Mr. Bingley to turn again to Miss Whitcombe—she may not welcome it, but she is more realistic than her sister and knows they may not have the ability to guide him.”
“And they would be correct,” replied Darcy. “Bingley is stubborn enough to go his own way if he feels strongly enough. The choice of a wife is the most consequential a man must make—Bingley will not cede that right to his sisters.”
“I am happy for Mr. Bingley. That is the way it should be.”
Darcy nodded. “Shall we not discuss something else?”
“Of course, Mr. Darcy,” replied she, and Darcy could not help but feel she was eager. “Of what shall we speak?”
The previous pattern repeated several times the rest of the evening. When Miss Bingley saw Darcy together with Miss Elizabeth, she returned, and Miss Elizabeth yielded the floor. Then Harrington would approach Miss Bennet, and she would intervene again, situating Miss Bennet by Bingley’s side.
After the second such occurrence, Harrington caught Darcy’s eye from across the room, and they became co-conspirators, each engaging their chosen Bennet sister within moments of Miss Bingley departing.
What the woman in question thought of this Darcy could not say, but the sight of her increasing frustration was most diverting.
To Darcy, it was the least of what she deserved.