Page 4 of A Tale of Two Suitors

Elizabeth felt caught up in Mr Darcy’s story and could not escape the distress associated with it.

She was equally preoccupied by trying to understand how it could have happened that Mr Darcy had come to visit them with Mr Bingley, then by himself, befriended her father, and opened his heart to her all in a couple of days; he had barely spoken to anyone in her family or in the entirety of Meryton for an entire week, so what could have caused this complete change?

She felt as intrigued by him as she had been appalled several days before; he was certainly not an easy man to know and to be around. There was such a complete contrast between him and Mr Bingley that it was a mystery how the two men had become friends.

With so many questions that demanded answers, Elizabeth was determined to speak more with Mr Darcy the next time she saw him. Of course, she could not ask any direct questions, except perhaps about Milo, the lost cat. And perhaps from there, she would find out more about the gentleman.

But why did she truly care? After all, Mr Darcy had indicated he would only remain in Hertfordshire for a few more weeks, and afterwards their paths would probably never cross again. Except if a certain event that Jane was already dreaming of became reality.

The day passed in similar reflections, with Mr Ash often seeking her attention.

Before dinner, a note arrived from Miss Bingley inviting Jane and Elizabeth to have tea with her and her sister the next day.

Mrs Bennet’s joy matched Jane’s silent but obviously pleasure; Elizabeth’s feelings were a combination of anticipation and anxiety, which she found to be irritating and unreasonable.

For Jane, the invitation was meaningful, as Mr Bingley must have had an influence on his sister’s decision.

But to her, it meant little; she had clearly been invited only as Jane’s companion, nothing more.

“Papa, can we take the carriage?” Jane asked.

“Perhaps you would be better to ride,” Mrs Bennet suggested. “I might need the carriage to go into Meryton.”

“I could, but what about Lizzy?” Jane enquired.

“It is about time Lizzy rode again. She was once rather proficient. For someone who proclaims she loves animals, being afraid of horses after only one fall is ridiculous,” their father declared. “Or else she could walk,” he added.

Elizabeth was more amused than hurt by her father’s mockery.

“Well, Papa, for someone who proclaims he is an educated man, it is a little bit ridiculous to refuse to go out in society and attend parties. And yet, we respect your choice.”

“That was a harsh retaliation, Lizzy,” Mr Bennet responded with a glare. “Harsh but just. I shall tell John you need the carriage tomorrow.”

“Or Jane could go alone,” Mrs Bennet suggested. “I am sure Mr Bingley and his sisters wish to see her and would do well enough without Lizzy.”

“I am not going without Lizzy, Mama!” Jane stated.

“We have already decided you will have the carriage, so let us close the subject,” Mr Bennet requested.

Dinner was being served when a servant entered with another note from Mr Bingley.

Mr Bennet,

I shall be in Meryton tomorrow, and I request permission to accompany Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth to Netherfield in my carriage. Afterwards, my carriage will convey them home again if this is acceptable to you.

C. Bingley

“Well, well, what a thoughtful young man he is,” Mr Bennet said, seeming only half serious. “Let me write back immediately and accept. Your mother may have the carriage tomorrow after all.”

“How thoughtful and considerate of him!” Mrs Bennet repeated. “He would do anything to please Jane. Anyone could see that. What a lovely thing! Oh, I greatly anticipate hearing about the visit, Jane. Mr Bingley will certainly be home — how wonderful!”

Jane said nothing, only blushed. As had rarely happened before, this time Elizabeth agreed with her mother: Mr Bingley’s attention went beyond a gentleman’s friendly behaviour.

***

The next day, around noon, Elizabeth and Jane were ready for their visit and equally eager.

The difference was that the reason for Jane’s anticipation was publicly acknowledged, while Elizabeth was mostly overlooked by the family.

She was going simply as Jane’s chaperon, and everybody assumed she had no reason to be nervous.

When Mr Bingley’s carriage arrived and the gentleman stepped down, Elizabeth held her breath. Behind him, she noticed Mr Darcy, who chose to remain inside while his friend handed the ladies in.

“Mr Bingley, thank you for offering your carriage,” Jane said.

“You are most welcome. In fact, it was Darcy’s idea. He said Mr Bennet may need his horses. Of course, I am delighted to escort you, but I have to admit that Darcy is more considerate than I in all these little things.”

Elizabeth glanced at Mr Darcy and caught his eye briefly. So, it was his idea, after all.

“It is not a lack of consideration, Bingley. You are simply not accustomed to running an estate and the sort of necessary tasks that go with it. That comes from experience.”

“I accept that, but I also admit you are always more attentive to details than I. That is why I always trust your opinion. You are hardly ever wrong.”

“I do not deserve such praise, Bingley. I am simply older.”

Elizabeth said nothing; the relationship between the two friends, so different in nature, age, and even social situation, was a puzzle.

She could easily understand Mr Bingley’s appreciation for Mr Darcy — who was superior to him in every way, except perhaps in manners.

But why Mr Darcy would wish to be friends with someone outside his circle was less clear.

The carriage arrived at Netherfield in a short time, and Mr Bingley invited them in. He offered Jane his arm, while Elizabeth followed them and Mr Darcy brought up the rear.

Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst greeted them enthusiastically and even embraced Jane.

Their manners seemed entirely polite and friendly, yet Elizabeth sensed dishonesty and forced smiles.

Her sensation increased once the tea was served, when the two sisters asked a lot of questions, which Jane answered with her usual sincerity.

Elizabeth, however, assumed they were mostly meant to reveal the Bennet family’s flaws to their brother.

Mr Darcy chose to keep his distance, watching them from a chair, holding a glass of brandy.

“Miss Eliza, is there fur on your skirt?” Miss Bingley abruptly asked.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said, attempting to laugh yet slightly uncomfortable. “My cat, Mr Ash, rubbed himself on me to say goodbye.”

“I love dogs and cats as much as any other person, but only out of doors,” Miss Bingley said. “I would die to find hair on my gown. I spend too much money on them to ruin them so easily.”

“My gowns are not so expensive, and the fur can be easily removed. To me, it is worth the effort,” Elizabeth concluded.

“My mother loved cats too. She even used to sleep with her favourite one,” Mr Darcy interjected, a little smile on his lips.

“I love cats too,” Miss Bingley immediately repeated. “Except that I would rather not keep them in the house. I think that is best for them too — to live a life of freedom. I think it is to their benefit.”

“The truth is that we have never been particularly fond of pets,” Mr Bingley admitted. “Perhaps because we lived in a townhouse and never owned a property in the country. Once I purchase one, I shall begin by buying a dog. Do you like dogs or cats, Miss Bennet?”

Jane blushed and needed a moment to reply.

“Both, I think. I have no firm preference.”

“So, Miss Bennet, your uncle lives in London? He is in trade, you said? Where exactly does he live?” Mrs Hurst asked.

“In Gracechurch Street. Yes, he is in trade and quite successful.”

“I am not sure in what part of London Gracechurch Street is. I doubt I have ever been to that area,” Miss Bingley said.

“It is quite a lovely neighbourhood,” Jane continued. “We visit them often as they are kind enough to invite Lizzy and me.”

“From that part of town, I imagine you are very far from any places of entertainment, such as the opera or theatre,” Mrs Hurst continued.

“Not too far,” Elizabeth interjected. “My uncle may not live in the fashionable part of town, but he has a lovely house and a wonderful family. He is an admirable man, highly educated, and very successful in his business. We all enjoy the theatre and opera, and we attend often when we stay with them. Distance matters little when one owns a good carriage.”

As she spoke, she heard the harshness in her voice, but she did not regret it. The women’s insolence, barely concealed behind polite smiles and careful words, caused her ire to rise.

“Mr Gardiner sounds very much like your excellent father, Bingley,” Mr Darcy interjected, bringing a smile to Elizabeth’s face; the gentleman seemed to disapprove of the two supercilious women as much as she did.

The Bingley sisters turned pale, while their brother answered, “Indeed! And I am sure Louisa and Caroline remember we also lived quite far from Mayfair until ten years ago, when my father managed to purchase a house in Grosvenor Street. He wished to buy an estate too, but in the end he left that responsibility to me. I hope Darcy will help me to fulfil it.”

“It means less where a man lives and more how he manages to turn it into a loving home for his family. And often being a gentleman or a lady means more than owning an estate,” Mr Darcy declared.

“I agree,” Elizabeth said. “And I have always found it amusing when people become conceited and self-important because they inherited a fortune and a social position, without doing much to earn it.” The last statement was rude, but she had said it, and it could not be taken back.

Again, Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst looked offended and angry, but surprisingly Mr Darcy smiled.

“’I agree, Miss Elizabeth,” he said. “It is one thing to take pride in your family history and your ancestors and another thing to be proud and arrogant just because you inherited some privileges.”

“But surely one’s name and situation in life make a great difference,” Mrs Hurst declared.

“A gentleman like Mr Hurst, or like Mr Darcy, deserves more consideration than someone with no connections in society, and I shall not even mention their fortunes. That is why a woman with a good education and a large dowry has more chance of a happy marriage than one who sadly lacks such advantages.”

“You cannot compare my situation to Darcy’s,” Mr Hurst unexpectedly said, sipping from his brandy. “He is superior in every way.”

“As for women with large dowries,” Mr Bingley said, “I believe they are more likely to have more suitors and receive more marriage proposals, but not necessarily for the right reasons. And that will surely not secure them a happy marriage.”

“Bingley, you just expressed my thoughts exactly,” Mr Darcy declared. “I would certainly wish my sister to be pursued for her excellent qualities, out of affection and admiration, than for her dowry and situation in life.”

“But you would certainly not want your sister to marry someone beneath her — someone with an inferior fortune and fewer connections,” Mrs Hurst insisted.

“I would certainly not want my sister to marry someone below her in character and education. A learned man, who strives to improve himself, who loves, admires, and respects a woman, is worth much more than one who is privileged but lacks the strength or the character to grow.”

“That all sounds lovely, Mr Darcy, but we all know you are fastidious and selective regarding the people around you,” Miss Bingley said.

“You hardly ever dance, you hardly ever speak to anyone, you often criticise a woman’s appearance and manners.

Let us be honest — we all know what you said about Miss Eliza and how you refused to dance with her. ”

Elizabeth felt her cheeks and neck burning, Jane appeared to be holding her breath, and Mr Bingley’s eyes widened in shock; Mr Darcy looked disconcerted too, but he replied in a strangely composed tone.

“I have already apologised to Miss Elizabeth for my rude statement. It was thoughtless — and completely untrue, for that matter. I remember calling her tolerable without even looking at her. Since I have had the pleasure of coming to know her better, I have found her to be one of the most handsome young ladies of my acquaintance and certainly one with whom I have many things in common. One being that I am a gentleman and she is a gentleman’s daughter.

The second that we both love to read, and the third that we both like cats.

And I hope she will agree to dance with me when the next opportunity arises. ”

Such a statement seemed to amaze the Bingley sisters as much as Elizabeth.

Mr Darcy was still smiling, and nervous thrills made her quiver.

Did he just declare his admiration for her?

And his intention to dance? What could it possibly mean?

It must have been only an attempt to argue with Miss Bingley, which Elizabeth found almost as offensive as his remark that she was tolerable.

Pretending a positive opinion and admiration that you did not really feel, simply to win a debate, was as appalling as giving offence without any sound reason.

“You may have the opportunity to dance soon, Darcy, as I plan to host a ball in about a fortnight,” Mr Bingley said. “I already know Caroline and Louisa disapprove, but I am determined to do it.”

“Do not worry, Mr Darcy, I shall not take your word in earnest,” Elizabeth uttered with a large smile. “I certainly do not expect you to dance with me.”

“I hope you will, Miss Elizabeth, as I have every intention of asking you. Unless you would find it too unpleasant to accept, that is. Fortunately, you have a little more time to decide,” he concluded, while Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst gazed at them, their mouths hanging open in a most unladylike manner.

The visit lasted another half an hour, then Elizabeth and Jane returned to Longbourn. Mr Bingley offered to accompany them; Mr Darcy only said goodbye. Elizabeth felt more bewildered and unsettled by Mr Darcy than any other man she had ever known; he was a riddle she could not hope to solve.

When they arrived at Longbourn, Mr Bingley only helped them out but did not enter the house. Inside, Lydia and Kitty were telling their mother about the regiment that had recently arrived in Meryton, while Mr Bennet expected to receive his cousin, Mr Collins.