Page 40 of Such Low Connections

Such an impassioned statement of intent took Elizabeth by surprise. These were not the words of a man who had been too-easily distracted from a pleasant but meaningless dalliance. They were the words of a devoted lover who had only one long-term aim, no matter how immediate tasks might beset and delay him in attaining it.

Mr Bingley’s admission that his continued absence was on Darcy’s account also angered Elizabeth. Why should he care more for his friend than he did for Jane? Still, her anger turned naturally towards Mr Darcy rather than in the direction of the rather forlorn Charles Bingley. How selfish Mr Darcy was! Mrs Bennet had been right on that point.

“I had no idea you felt so strongly, Mr Bingley,” Elizabeth observed. “It does you credit that you do not easily forget places and people that you care for. It is unfortunate that Mr Darcy’s business should entangle you so greatly, as well as him. I am sorry that it has kept you both in London for so long.”

“My short months in Hertfordshire were among the happiest of my life,” he confessed with a heartfelt sigh. “Netherfield suited me very well in every respect. I can forget neither the place nor the people associated with it. Whenever Caroline writes to Jane, I always ask to be remembered to your family, Miss Elizabeth, and I do hope I shall not be entirely forgotten when I return.”

“You have not been forgotten by any of us, Mr Bingley,” Elizabeth assured him earnestly, while thinking wrathfully of all the short letters Caroline Bingley had written to Jane, none of which had contained so much as a hint of any message from her brother to the Bennet family.

“I am glad to hear that, Miss Elizabeth,” said Charles Bingley before drifting into a reflection on his happy times in Hertfordshire and the prominent role that the Bennet family had played.

As she listened with one ear, Elizabeth’s rapid mind ran ahead of her. What a scheming woman Miss Bingley was! Not wishing to see her brother marry into the Bennet family, regardless of her own professed affection for Jane, Caroline Bingley had deliberately written in such a way that made Jane believe herself abandoned.

Nor was Miss Bingley the only scheming woman in the world, Elizabeth reflected, glancing across the room at Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Mr Darcy’s aunt was presently watching Mr Darcy and her daughter with an expression of superior cunning and satisfaction, which neither of the two younger people seemed to share.

Equally reserved in their own way, Elizabeth supposed that both Mr Darcy and Miss de Bourgh would really prefer to have sat alone and talked to no one. But then, why had he attempted to sit next to Elizabeth? Perhaps it was only to be with Mr Bingley, who reminded her ever more of a faithful hound with his master.

Yes, that description was apt enough. Wherever Mr Darcy went, Mr Bingley followed, sometimes guided by Mr Darcy and sometimes guarding him, but always at his side. What on earth would Mr Darcy do when Mr Bingley eventually married? She supposed he must either marry too or find himself a new friend as faithful and obedient as Mr Bingley seemed to be.

“Miss Bennet,” sounded Lady Catherine’s voice, now claiming her attention back from Mr Bingley. “Am I right in understanding from Mr and Mrs Collins that all of your sisters are out, even the youngest?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Elizabeth confirmed. “My youngest sister Lydia is not yet sixteen and has been out for more than a year.”

“Out at fourteen, and before any of the elder sisters were married? What can your mother have been thinking?”

“I could not say,” Elizabeth murmured, not approving herself of Lydia being brought forward so young, but unwilling to condemn her parents too baldly before this audience.

Though Elizabeth supposed that Lady Catherine was all too well aware of Lydia and Kitty’s exploits via Mr Collins, who would have taken great pleasure in expounding the defects of their behaviour and comportment for the satisfaction of his patroness.

“Well, I should never have brought Anne out so young, if her health had allowed her to take her rightful place in society,” Lady Catherine stated. “Young girls ought to be carefully and correctly brought up at home until they reach an age where they can be trusted to conduct themselves in public with due decorum.”

“I do see that,” Elizabeth said mildly, with an understanding nod. Her response seemed to draw approval from Mr Collins, who nodded more vigorously, hanging on Lady Catherine’s every word like a fawning courtier before a powerful queen.

“Indeed, I have brought Anne up to be the perfect wife for a man who values breeding, fortune, and character. A man of sound character and judgement could do no better in the marriage mart. Do you not agree, Fitzwilliam?”

Elizabeth continued to nod sympathetically, sensing that nothing more was required or wanted at this point beyond general assent. At the same time, her smile was one of genuine amusement, being sure now that she detected something more than promotion of cousinly affection in Lady Catherine’s deliberate commendation of her daughter Anne to Mr Darcy.

“Anne has a fine character and impeccable lineage, to be sure,” Mr Darcy answered his aunt shortly.

His obvious discomfort was apparently shared by Miss de Bourgh herself, who seemed equally unhappy with her mother’s personal remarks, and had buried her face in a handkerchief under cover of a real or pretended coughing fit.

Elizabeth now understood Lady Catherine’s game — marrying her sickly and unappealing daughter off to Mr Darcy. With a touch of vengefulness on behalf of Jane, Elizabeth thought such a marriage would serve him right. It would also be fitting natural justice for Mr Darcy’s behaviour towards George Wickham. Yes, she could wish this fate on him even while condemning the widespread besmirching of his name and parentage.

“As you say, Lady Catherine, Miss de Bourgh is the perfect wife,” Elizabeth spoke up, making brief eye contact with Darcy before fixing on his aunt, “Other young ladies can only commend Miss de Bourgh’s good fortune and follow her example.”

This comment too seemed to satisfy Lady Catherine, and she turned her attention to Mr Bingley, evidently done with Elizabeth for now.

“You have no family estate, I understand, Mr Bingley…” began their hostess, trampling on any sensitivities Charles Bingley might have about his family’s origins and prompting Elizabeth to ready herself for his defence if necessary.

Although colouring a little, Mr Bingley managed to answer with his customary frank cheerfulness, and Elizabeth’s concerns for him were soon allayed. No one could be either angry or worried for Charles Bingley for very long. Like Jane, his native good humour and human kindness seemed to shield him from much of the world’s harshness.

Fitzwilliam Darcy, however, was another kind of man entirely, and Elizabeth’s contrary feelings for him were not so easily set aside. Seeing Mr Darcy rise and go to the window, Elizabeth too left her seat and joined him there.

“How long do you plan to keep Mr Bingley away from Netherfield Park, Mr Darcy?” she asked him directly. Both her approach and the question itself seemed to startle him.

“Bingley is his own master, Miss Bennet. It is not for me to determine his residence.”

“Still, it does seem that your friendship plays more of a role than you allow it. Mr Bingley is much missed in Hertfordshire, and he assures me today that this compliment is returned. Why then would he stay away so long?”