Chapter IV
Upon returning to Netherfield, the party gathered in the sitting-room, the conversation concerning the visit to Longbourn.
To Darcy, the situation was surreal. Staying at his house in London, he had no thought of returning to Hertfordshire, and still less that Mrs. Hurst, of all people, would have returned of her own accord.
Yet here he was, fresh from a visit to Longbourn, wondering how it had all happened.
“Well, Brother?” asked Mrs. Hurst when they had all settled. “What do you think of Miss Bennet now?”
Bingley, in a departure from his usual eagerness to speak, hesitated. “I think, Louisa, that Miss Bennet is much as she ever was.” Then he paused and added: “There is more to her than I ever gave her credit.”
“Miss Elizabeth asserted the truth of her sister’s feelings,” said Darcy. “She claimed that Miss Bennet will not accept a man’s attentions if she does not esteem him.”
“Of that, I had no doubt,” asserted Bingley.
“Yet you stayed in London for a month.”
Bingley eyed him and shrugged. “Your conviction that she was indifferent seemed rational.”
“It seems you misread her, Mr. Darcy,” said Mrs. Hurst. “Miss Bennet was never indifferent—she is only reticent.”
“I have no more wish to argue the point,” replied Darcy.
Mrs. Hurst offered a regal nod and turned back to her brother. “I knew at once that she wished for your return. That is why I alerted you to the true situation.”
Bingley regarded his sister with a hint of suspicion hovering about him. “As I recall, you argued she was unsuitable.”
“If you think on it,” replied Mrs. Hurst, “you will recall that I said little. Caroline spoke on the subject; I kept my own counsel.”
“Silence implies agreement, Louisa,” challenged Bingley.
“Or it implies an unwillingness to set Caroline off.”
“That is the truth,” rumbled Hurst. “Caroline’s voice is piercing when she is displeased.”
“The question is what you mean to do now,” said Mrs. Hurst, nodding to her husband.
“I shall proceed as I should have in the autumn,” replied Bingley. “Miss Bennet is a woman worthy of every effort to please her.”
“That is good to hear, Brother,” replied Mrs. Hurst. “Jane is a sweet creature—she will be the making of you.”
A queer look came over Bingley’s face, and he muttered: “Miss Bennet is an angel, but she does not lack spirit when she wishes it.”
“What do you mean?” Mrs. Hurst demanded.
Bingley appeared a little shamefaced, but he did not hesitate to respond.
“Miss Bennet . . . Well, she did not exactly take me to task. She was pleasant, even kind, but she made it clear that she would not accept lukewarm interest. I shall need to put my best foot forward to win her, for I now know that she will refuse me if I offer anything less.”
“Good for her,” snorted Hurst. “You should have expected it, Bingley. Any woman would hesitate when the man who shows interest in her disappears. If I were to give you advice, it would be to curb Caroline’s excesses, for when she discovers your whereabouts—and she will—she will not be pleased to learn of your intentions. ”
“That is easy for you to say,” mumbled Bingley.
“And yet,” replied Mrs. Hurst, “Caroline is our younger sister and must defer. Miss Bennet is a worthy woman, as you said yourself. If you continue as you have, I suspect she will not be unmoved, but I suggest you do as Gerald says and assure her that Caroline will have no power over you.”
“With that, I cannot disagree,” said Bingley.
“To own the truth,” said Darcy, “I must declare my astonishment, Mrs. Hurst. While I agree you did not speak much against Miss Bennet, I had not thought you supported your brother’s attentions to her.”
“That is because I, too, have a healthy respect for my sister’s displeasure, Mr. Darcy,” replied Mrs. Hurst.
“That does not explain why you returned to Netherfield,” said Bingley, leaning forward to meet his sister’s eyes. “While you are not as vocal about it, I know you espouse some of the same ambitions as Caroline.”
“Perhaps I do,” replied Mrs. Hurst.
The woman played with her bracelets, as was her wont, but Darcy saw something else in it. She did not do so out of boredom or insipidity, but because she was thinking. It was an insight he might not have had mere months ago.
“I am far more reasonable about it, Charles,” said she at length, looking up at him.
“Acceptance in society is what I require, not some ephemeral adulation of the masses. The Bingley family will not achieve full acceptance until some time has passed and its roots in trade are distant enough. I understand that and accept the respect we have achieved.”
“Much of that is because of my friendship with Darcy.”
“And for that, I am grateful,” said Mrs. Hurst, nodding to Darcy.
“Perhaps I have had a part in it,” replied Darcy, “but your family behaves impeccably in society. There is no one I know of who has a bad word to say about your brother.”
“Which cannot be said about Caroline,” said Bingley.
It was the truth, and Darcy had no interest in denying it.
Miss Bingley’s problem was not that she behaved poorly or lacked standing, so much as it was her desire for more than she should expect.
Miss Bingley did not hide her interest from anyone, and Darcy knew of many people who thought her daft for her ambition to marry the grandson of an earl.
“That does not answer the original question,” said Darcy.
Mrs. Hurst shrugged. “Jane sent Caroline two letters—in both, she did everything but state her interest in Charles. Caroline refused to even consider the possibility she was genuine, but I saw something I thought worth exploring. Caroline staying with her friends allowed me the opportunity to confirm my suspicions. I thought I owed it to Charles to learn the truth.”
“And I am grateful for it,” said Bingley with a nod to his sister. “If I had remained away much longer, the chance to persuade her might have disappeared. Miss Bennet will make an excellent wife—of this I am certain. All I need to do is convince her.”
“I wish you luck, Charles,” said Mrs. Hurst with a smile. “She is a lovely woman.”
Then Mrs. Hurst turned to Darcy. “As I something of your connection, I think it may interest you to learn that Mr. Wickham had made himself agreeable.”
Darcy shook his head with disgust. “That surprises me not at all, Mrs. Hurst. Wickham makes it his business to ensure acceptance wherever he goes.”
“Then it will not surprise you to learn that he makes himself even more agreeable to the ladies.”
“Not at all,” replied Darcy.
The way Mrs. Hurst regarded him, serious and thoughtful, made him a little uncomfortable. The moment passed, and she nodded.
“Not knowing what lay between you, I could not give much warning to the community. Will you not share something of what you know of him?”
There were few subjects of which Darcy wished to speak less than George Wickham, but he decided he could not disoblige her.
As obliquely as he could manage, he spoke of Wickham’s debts, his gaming, and his liberties with the ladies.
Of Ramsgate, he spoke little, not wishing to betray Georgiana’s confidence to anyone.
What he said was enough to raise anyone’s hackles—Mrs. Hurst was no exception.
“That is even worse than I expected,” said Mrs. Hurst when he concluded his explanation. “Then what should we do to ensure that Mr. Wickham cannot prey on the townsfolk?”
The subject change was uncomfortable to Darcy. “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Hurst, but I have long washed my hands of Wickham. I do not intend to involve myself in his intrigues again.”
“I do not counsel you to take responsibility for him, Mr. Darcy,” replied she, “but surely some warning would not go amiss. If left unfettered, Mr. Wickham might affect the merchants’ ability to support their families or ruin some unsuspecting girl.
There are even gentlewomen in this neighborhood who may be taken in by his manners. ”
As it happened, Darcy could think of several ladies who were Wickham’s natural prey, Misses Kitty and Lydia Bennet foremost among their number. The prospect was not palatable, but Darcy also did not wish to involve himself in Wickham’s life again. To avoid the subject, he elected not to respond.
“One thing I noticed today that was rather curious, Darcy,” said Bingley.
“And that is?” prompted Darcy.
“Why, that you stood and spoke with Miss Elizabeth charmingly and nary a hint of argument.” Bingley grinned. “As I recall, just about every exchange between you devolves to some measure of misunderstanding or quarreling.”
Darcy frowned. “Of what do you speak? I can recall no quarrels between us.”
“Oh?” asked Bingley, his tone that of lazy disbelief. “What of your discussion of accomplishments? Then there were your other exchanges when she stayed here. What of your obvious argument during your dance at the ball—I cannot say what it was, but your manner was adversarial.”
“Were those not debates?” asked Darcy, ignoring Bingley’s last point. “The very soul of discussion is to state your opinions and defend your position. Miss Elizabeth is not deficient at this.”
“Not at all,” agreed Mrs. Hurst. “She is as quick as any woman I have ever met.”
“Which is part of the reason that Caroline dislikes her so,” said Hurst. “That and Darcy’s obvious interest in her.”
Darcy was uncomfortable with the way this discussion was proceeding, but he did not know how to say what he felt. It was fortunate for him that another proved perceptive and spoke in his stead.
“You need not speak, Mr. Darcy,” said Mrs. Hurst. “Though she will not confess it, no one here has any illusions about your interest in my sister.”
Bingley snorted. “That much cannot be contradicted. Caroline will remain confident that you will offer for her until the ink is dry on the marriage register.”