2. 25 October 1811 #2
Somehow, those practical words “in an attempt to secure him” seemed positively dreadful to Elizabeth.
It was exactly what her mother would demand of Jane, but if Mr Bingley were the sort of person to dangle after Jane and then just leave her…
well, that could be really bad. Surely the best course was exactly what Jane was doing: responding with warmth yet restraint and allowing time and continued conversation to help them know one another.
Elizabeth sighed. “Thank you for sharing your knowledge with me, Charlotte. Given Jane’s loveliness and obvious appeal to men, I am rather surprised that nobody has courted her until now.”
Charlotte’s mouth gave a little twitch, but not as if she wished to smile. Elizabeth saw the strain as her friend attempted not to frown. What can she be thinking?
“Oh, Eliza, you pretend to be modest, but you know it is you that has an obvious appeal to men. It has always been so.”
“Me? I have never been courted by a man.”
“When we were younger, two young men attempted to show you their feelings, and you ignored their advances.”
Feeling stunned and almost angry at Charlotte’s accusatory words, Elizabeth said, “I do not know who or what you are speaking of!”
“Two years ago, William Goulding told you how he felt, and you laughed.”
“What? I remember him teasing me before he left on a tour of the kingdom.”
“He was serious, and he was hurt when you laughed. He told my brother Fred.”
“Oh, my. I—that is terrible. I never meant to hurt him. Why did you not tell me at the time?”
“By the time Fred told John and John told me, Mr Goulding was far away. I was certain you had not meant to hurt his feelings, but it seemed to be such old news….”
“I am sorry for it.”
“And then last year, you did rather the same thing to my brother John.”
Elizabeth stared. “Do you mean when we danced together at an assembly, and halfway through the dance he said he wanted to marry me?”
“Of course.”
“I do not know much about courting, Charlotte, but I do think that a time when we are in an enormous group of friends and family and neighbours, and we are laughing and chatting about the pigs having gotten loose and plundering the marrows…and in all of that laughter, him saying he wished to marry me—that is not how a gentleman proposes to a lady. He could not have been serious.”
“You laughed and said it would be like marrying a brother.”
“Well, the statement was true then and is still true now. John does seem like a brother to me—so much so that I have to put effort into calling him Mr Lucas.”
“He was upset.”
“I am sorry that he felt hurt, but you must see my point that it would be hard to credit him as being serious in such a setting. Plus, we were so young. I do not believe I have ever heard of a gentleman marrying before he reaches his majority.”
Charlotte just sat there for a few long seconds. Her eyes were cast down, and she had achieved a neutral mien rather than a frown, but Elizabeth felt almost as if she would never see her friend smile again.
Finally, Elizabeth said, “I suppose we should go back to the gathering.”
Elizabeth tried to have a wonderful time. She chatted and laughed, played a song when asked and danced with Mr Goulding, at his request, as her sister Mary played a jig. Noting that Mr Goulding was polite and full of smiles, she assumed that he was not the least bit broken hearted.
Elizabeth watched John Lucas, as well. She was happy to see that he was flirting with Sophia Long, and she saw no interest in her nor any sign of a wounded heart.
But it was difficult to feel pleased about an evening when her best friend was unhappy.
Another reason the evening was distressing was that she had somehow been cornered by Miss Bingley, who insisted on telling Elizabeth all about a family that she did not know and cared not a whit about.
It was a Mr and Miss Darcy, brother and sister, and they had been invited to visit the estate the Bingleys were leasing, but they had failed to come because of a sudden illness.
Apparently, Mr Darcy was the most handsome man ever to have existed, and he was also the most intelligent, knowledgable, honourable, and gentlemanlike man in the world.
And Miss Darcy was equally perfect: a prodigy at the pianoforte, highly accomplished in all the ways a girl of sixteen ought to be, and exquisitely beautiful.
Elizabeth contained her sceptical laughter and, eventually giving in to the difficulty of leaving the conversation, she entertained herself by urging the lady on to even more gushing compliments about the Darcys.
But inside, she thought, The brother and sister must be very wealthy, indeed, to earn this much praise from Miss Bingley.
She felt a bit guilty at her uncharitable thought, but when Miss Bingley finally stated that Mr Darcy earned ten thousand a year, Elizabeth thought, Naturally, I was right.
And then: Wait! TEN THOUSAND a year?
Of course, if Miss Bingley exaggerated the good qualities of the Darcys, she certainly also inflated the size of their fortune.
Elizabeth wished she could laugh at the very idea that such people could even exist, let alone that they would ever deign to come to Meryton.
However, she maintained her polite expression and her moderate words, only allowing her cynicism expression in the lift of an eyebrow or the tilt of her head.
A careful observer might realise that she believed not a single word.
However, although Miss Bingley was many things, she was not a careful observer, and Elizabeth emerged from the one-sided conversation without being found out.
How could Mr Bingley, who seemed to like everyone and spoke kindly to servants and gentlemen alike, be the brother of such an unpleasant fortune hunter? It was surely one of life’s mysteries….