Page 21 of Fortuitous Encounters

Mrs Bennet and the two youngest Bennet daughters had left no stone unturned in their assertions that the match was as good as made. People did not necessarily believe them, nor did they disbelieve. Most of the townspeople seemed to take a wait-and-see attitude, but the reputation of the Bennets was sinking inch by inch.

Jane tried her best to mitigate the damage with little effect. She saw more and more of Mr Bingley, and that gentleman grew increasingly tired of his sisters’ interference in his affairs. He had not banished them to London or Scarborough yet, but according to Fletcher, his patience was running thin.

When Fletcher suggested Jane was even threatening to end the connection with Mr Bingley if her mother continued the campaign, Lizzy found her voice.

“Mr Fletcher, may I ask one more disagreeable task of you?”

“Of course, though I dispute the premise. This has been the most entertaining week of my life.”

The impertinence of the man was refreshing, so Elizabeth ceded the point. She knew there was no malice in him, and it was far better to be entertained by their foibles than crushed by her troubles.

“Speak to my sister, and use whatever means are necessary, including cursing, worse cursing, or threats to dissuade her from that course. There is no need to throw the baby out with the bathwater.”

Fletcher nodded. “May I be candid?”

“I should hope you know the answer to that by now.”

“Well, my master is trying to be more polite, so I thought to join him just to see what happens.”

Elizabeth laughed at the impertinence but reckoned she would have to think about Mr Darcy trying to improve his manners later. Given all he had done, she had not the slightest thing to complain about.

“Pray, proceed.”

“This… ah… is it fair to call it a debacle?”

“I should think so.”

“I would never presume to say this to anyone else, but I think this may be the making of Mr Bingley… and possibly your sister as well.”

Elizabeth sat stunned. “Might you… elaborate?”

“Of course. Most would not say it, but they would think that Mr Bingley lacked a certain… ah… resilience?”

She considered this, overriding her instinct to keep her mouth shut as ladies were instructed to (with extremely mixed results). “Like you, I would never have said it… and perhaps not even thought it… but that theory does have merit.”

“What evidence would you have used… before the ball, that is?”

Elizabeth was having the oddest conversation of her life—with a valet. Stranger things had happened, but she could not think of one offhand.

“His sisters,” she said. “They blather on worse than mine. He is the master of his house, and head of his family, yet he has mostly ignored them… presumably because he got tired of beating his head against that wall years ago.”

“I believe that to be the case.”

“And now?”

Fletcher looked cagey, but continued, “They threatened to take the debacle to town. They did not want Mr Bingley attaching himself to Miss Bennet even before this, and they are adamantly opposed now.”

“Much as I hate to say it, they may have a point.”

“Perhaps, but that is where Mr Bingley’s resilience comes in. It is a perfect test of his mettle. Is he man or boy? How much does he esteem your sister, and given the obstacles, how willing is he to fight for her?”

“Those are home questions. I think if he is in love with her, he should be willing to fight tooth and nail. If he is not willing to fight—”

“—he is not in love,” Fletcher finished.

“Exactly.”

“He has suggested they get out pencil and paper to work out a budget that will allow them to live on the interest from Miss Bingley’s dowry and Mr Hurst’s meagre allowance.”