Chapter Seventeen
After church on Sunday, the whole party explored Brighton together.
They took in the attractions of the seaside city in ever-shifting groups and clusters, but Lady Rebecca remained close to Elizabeth.
She liked her clever young friend very much, and thought she would suit Darcy splendidly – but matters between them would have to be handled properly.
The two young women sampled first rate ices and cakes at a tea shop, joined by Mr. Bingley, Miss Anne Elliot, and Colonel Brandon, and there they passed a happy hour in conversation.
Lady Rebecca encouraged them to regale her and Elizabeth with an account of the finer points of their sailing excursion, for they had heard only of the unpleasant.
Anne was heartily sorry that Elizabeth had not joined them on Lady Rosamund’s boat, but Elizabeth delighted them all with a jolly account of how she had played cards and drank brandy-spiked tea, gossiping with the Goulding ladies.
She left out some crucial information – Rebecca had heard all about Elizabeth’s panic over her feelings for Darcy, for Lady Blanche was even keener on making that match than Rebecca, who had every reason to favor it.
When they exited the tea shop, Anne and the colonel went off to explore a bookshop, and Rebecca was surprised that Elizabeth did not follow them.
“I hear Lady Blanche has asked you to stop meddling,” she mused, raising a brow as she watched the couple meander away.
“I believe I must dissuade you from obliging her, for I know she has invited me to Richmond Cove fully aware of my own propensity for chaos.”
Bingley chortled. “Imagine my surprise when you were not the one to send someone overboard yesterday!”
Elizabeth grinned at them. “It will please you to learn, then, that I did not at all acquiesce to that request.” Her countenance shaded. “But in some cases, there does come a point when it is best to let nature run its course.”
Rebecca knew her friend did not refer to Anne and the colonel, or at least not only them.
Her friend was quite wrong. If Elizabeth had been weeping over Darcy only yesterday, there was a great deal Rebecca might do, for she had only three weeks remaining.
“I am sure that is just what our hostesses would have you believe, so that the joy of interference shall be all their own.”
Elizabeth made a droll face. “I should by no means forgo that pleasure! Perhaps, by and by, I shall meddle with you, Lady Rebecca.”
“You are welcome to attempt it, but I am uncommonly impervious to such maneuverings.”
Mr. Bingley grinned and wagged his brows. “But I should dearly love to see you try, Miss Elizabeth.”
Beyond his habitual yearning stares, and the occasional sighs that accompanied them, Bingley had borne Jane’s unspoken rejection rather well.
Elizabeth clearly bore him no animosity; at present, she swatted cheerfully at him.
“You must be careful what you wish for, sir, for your dear friend has set a precedent of impertinence. You may provoke me to observe that what I have done for Anne and the colonel might be attempted for the already quite chummy pair before me.”
Elizabeth waggled her brows and Bingley chortled, bringing a gloved hand up to rest on his cheek, as if the notion were entirely astonishing. Rebecca tamped down a strange sensation of dizzy discomfort and managed to roll her eyes.
“Ah, so you would take up Caroline’s cause?
‘Tis a lost one, I fear, for I have seen Bingley in and out of love a dozen times, and always with willowy blondes who smile and speak kindly to him. I am perpetually vexing the poor man – it is quixotic of him to enjoy such a friendship – in marriage, I fear I should eat him alive.”
“I suppose you may yet find a man eager to be devoured,” Bingley laughed with a shake of his head. “And I do not only favor blondes. I am sure I have fancied redheads and brunettes, too, at some point. I cannot recall….”
Neither could Rebecca. She idly twirled a loose wisp of her own raven hair about her finger, unable to summon the same amusement she felt when Miss Bingley was the one dropping such hints.
“Do not all men desire a bride who finds them terribly clever? I suppose that eliminates me from any chance of marriage to the entire male species.”
Elizabeth raised her brows as she looked between Bingley and Rebecca. “Do not all ladies desire a husband who allows them their eccentricities?”
“I daresay I am clever enough to know when to let her be wicked, Miss Elizabeth. But there may be something in this notion of you choosing a bride for me. I suppose there is little hope of your sister thinking of me, after the dashing captain’s rescue – he is so very tall!
Taller than Darcy, even – I find it very hard to be cross with him, for wooing away such a beautiful… .”
“Blonde?” Lady Rebecca grinned at him and held up her hands.
“I am only being wicked. But, by all means, Lizzy, I should like to see you give the old Goulding girls a taste of their own medicine! What of Miss Elliot, or perhaps Lady Julia Bixler? They are fair enough, and I am sure Caroline would be satisfied to call either of them sister. Even little Miss Smith has been given a dowry by her godmother, and she apparently had a great deal in common with the charming Miss Bennet.”
“Miss Smith?” Bingley furrowed his brows, leaning closer to Rebecca as he whispered. “But I thought you said that she is likely Lady Blanche’s natural d-”
“A natural delight to her, yes,” Lady Rebecca said swiftly, giving Bingley a warning glance. She had been rather indiscreet about her suspicions one evening, gossiping with the gentlemen in her relations’ shared parlor.
Bingley screwed up his face, then recovered and laughed again. “As to the ladies in question, I cannot think Lord Bixler or Sir Walter should be pleased. Tease me all you like, but I have had so many failed courtships because I am a lowly tradesman who aims too high.”
“Nonsense – any great family would be lucky to have you,” Rebecca cried.
He smiled sadly. “Not the Bennets, I think.
“You have your sister to thank for that,” Rebecca mumbled. “But I am sure she shall be delighted to learn that you have delegated the arduous task of finding you a bride to dear Elizabeth! Go on, Lizzy, you may certainly tell him what you think of her, for he has borne it a thousand times from me!”
Elizabeth gaped; her open-mouthed shock gave way to scandalized laughter, though her voice was deep with mock solemnity. “I will only advise you, sir, as your legal counsel, that you ought to take a wife who can manage your household affairs, which may be presently quite out of order.”
Bingley laughed, and Elizabeth waggled her brows. “My uncle is a barrister, you know.”
“I suppose Jane would never have been such a woman – she is too gentle and kind,” Bingley sighed.
Rebecca clapped him on the shoulder. “You might rejoice, as I have done, to find a vast array of young ladies before you, ranging from cheerfully impertinent to brutally haughty.”
They had meandered along the high street, and now turned onto a narrower thoroughfare lined with shops. Bingley stroked his chin and observed, “It would serve my sister right if I were fortunate enough to love a lady who might frighten her out of her wits!”
He began to choke on his words, however, for they suddenly encountered the object of their hilarity.
Caroline Bingley was leaning against the side of a building, her bosom angled upward for the benefit of Mr. Willoughby.
Elizabeth Elliot was on his arm, but he had his other arm braced against the wall, his body leaning close to Caroline, who was drinking from a silver flask, which she hastened to return to him.
She winced and wiped at her mouth, correcting her posture at the sight of her brother. “Charles!” She attempted to smile brightly at him and Rebecca while simultaneously grimacing at Elizabeth.
“We have just enjoyed the loveliest little tea shop,” Elizabeth said, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. “I trust you have taken fortifying refreshments of your own.”
Bingley nudged Rebecca’s elbow with his own as a fit of coughing overtook him.
Caroline sneered at Elizabeth. Mr. Willoughby brazenly offered her the flask, and when she ignored the gesture he shrugged his shoulders and handed it off to Miss Elliot, who took a bold swig of whatever it contained before tucking it back into Mr. Willoughby’s coat.
“I am surprised you have been making merry, Miss Eliza, and not cosseting your sister – or mine.”
“Ah, but she is just over there,” Caroline drawled, tipping her head across the street, where Jane was exiting an old baroque church with Captain Wentworth.
“Giving thanks for her speedy recovery, no doubt – but it seems she has quite an inducement to be well again after her ordeal, though her trifling cold kept her abed for so long last autumn. How curious, the fluctuations in one’s health, when one’s other affairs enter into the equation. ”
Elizabeth, who had spent the better part of two days attending to her sister, looked horrified. But Rebecca saw Darcy approaching them, and was eager to be rid of some amongst her present companions. “Perhaps you should go and inquire, Caroline.”
“Oh, how delicious,” Miss Elliot purred. “But I believe you first thought her quite pretty, dear Willoughby.”
“She is one of many lovely ladies at Richmond Cove – but alas, not an heiress, as my wicked old aunt has commanded me to adore.”
Miss Bingley gave a flirtatious pout of commiseration. “Perhaps we ought to go and congratulate her for her swift recovery.”