Page 11 of Such Low Connections

“It is from Miss Caroline Bingley,” Jane said slowly, a faint smile curving her lips. “I am invited to dine with her and Mrs Hurst at Netherfield Park tomorrow evening.”

Mrs Bennet positively crowed at this development. “I knew it!” she said again. “I knew Mr Bingley could not go a single day without seeing you again, Jane. I saw how he looked at you all evening in the assembly rooms. Did I not say, Mr Bennet —”

“Mr Bingley and the other gentlemen will not be there,” Jane broke in hurriedly, blushing in embarrassment at her mother’s words. “They will be out for the whole evening and will not return to Netherfield Park until late. It seems that is why the ladies wish for more company.”

This part of the news stopped Mrs Bennet in her tracks, and her brow creased in annoyance.

“How nonsensical! You cannot possibly go to Netherfield Park and not see Mr Bingley, Jane. We cannot stand for that.”

“Shall I tell Mr Hill that the carriage will be needed for Jane tomorrow?” Elizabeth broke in, hoping to distract her mother from this irrational line of complaint. “He will need to have the horses ready in good time.”

“Carriage? Jane doesn’t need the carriage. She must go on horseback,” Mrs Bennet pronounced with sudden inspiration that mystified everyone else in the hallway.

“The weather is likely to be no better tomorrow than today,” Elizabeth pointed out. “There is a high chance of heavy rain again, and Jane is likely to be soaked to the skin by the time she gets to Netherfield Park.”

“Precisely,” Mrs Bennet replied gleefully. “If Jane is caught in the rain, she will have to be dried and stay longer. If the rain continues after supper, likely Miss Bingley will invite her to stay overnight, and Jane can breakfast with Mr Bingley after all.”

“Mother!” Elizabeth protested, seeing Jane’s crestfallen face and looking to her father for assistance.

“Lord defend us!” Mr Bennet muttered, and promptly disappeared back into his library.

“I shall not hear another word upon the matter,” declared Mrs Bennet. “Now, I must go and look at Jane’s dresses and decide what is best to wear for riding and then supper in November.”

When Elizabeth moved to pursue Mrs Bennet upstairs, Jane held her back.

“Do not trouble yourself, Lizzy,” her sister pleaded. “Mother means well, and if we vex her, she might decide that I am not to go. I would like to know Caroline Bingley better. Anyway, it may not rain after all. None of us can say for certain, and we should hope for the best.”

Elizabeth sighed and acceded.

“Very well, Jane, but I do not feel easy about this.”

Chapter 4

For the third time on his morning walk in Meryton, Darcy’s ears pricked up and tuned into the whispering that seemed to be everywhere that day. Involuntarily, he glanced towards the latest speakers, a collection of middle-aged men and women in respectable, although not rich, dress, gathered together on the edge of the green.

“…heard it in London…”

“…not his father…”

“So they say, but hush now, look…”

Were they talking about him? Rationally, from the snatches of phrases he overheard, Darcy knew they could be speaking of anyone, or of several different people. He could be sure of nothing, but it was impossible either to close his ears or to prevent his imagination from filling in the gaps. Going closer to eavesdrop intentionally was entirely out of the question, and the whole walk was becoming intolerable.

Darcy had intended to walk further than this. There was little to see in a small town like Meryton, but he had wanted to stretch his legs after so much time indoors in rainy weather. Nor did the atmosphere at Netherfield Park presently suit his temper much better.

With Miss Jane Bennet in bed with a bad cold after foolishly riding there through the rain, Bingley’s sisters were enjoying playing at being gracious ladies nursing their new friend through her illness. Darcy wondered whether they would lose interest in their game before Miss Bennet recovered, or whether they would try to prolong her indisposition to continue it.

Charles Bingley, meanwhile, appeared genuinely concerned for Miss Bennet and was taken up with frequent inquiries into her health and well-being. Bingley was in Meryton too, consulting the local apothecary in person and hoping to bring back a prescription for the pretty patient. Spotting the apothecary’s sign, Darcy marched across and saw his friend inside taking his leave at the counter, two brown-paper packets in his hand.

“I shall return to Netherfield with you, Bingley,” Darcy announced when Bingley emerged.

His friend looked surprised but pleased, and the two men fell in together.

“I shall welcome the company, Darcy, but I cannot believe those great long legs of yours are tired already. Are you bored of the paths around Meryton, or have you decided you’d rather take a ride?”

“Neither to any real extent,” Darcy said vaguely, weighing up in his head whether he might explain his troubles to Bingley.

The matter was presently too ill-defined, and Darcy remembered how Colonel Fitzwilliam had teased him and made light of the incidents in London. If he was being ill-tempered and oversensitive, he ought to keep his crossness to himself and not burden his friends. God forbid he should ever become like his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, querulous, intrusive, and demanding of attention.