Page 58 of Heiress of Longbourn (Pride and Prejudice Variations)

Bingley Residence

London

“Elizabeth Bennet! That little minx with no fortune and no connections and no wit and no beauty?! Mr. Darcy must be mad!”

Louisa Hurst, who was sitting on a comfortable chair knitting a tiny sock, shook her head. “There is nothing to be done, Caroline. You might as well accept that Mr. Darcy will not offer for you.”

“I refuse to accept it! I refuse! Mr. Darcy will come to his senses soon enough; he is not engaged to Miss Eliza, but only courting her, and thus he can withdraw without a loss of honor. She is a hoyden and has bewitched him, but he is Darcy of Pemberley and will realize soon enough that the Bennets are not worthy of the Darcy name. The first step is to pry Charles from Jane Bennet again.”

“If Charles has offered for Miss Bennet and been accepted, then nothing can be done,” Louisa pointed out. “You know that.”

Caroline Bingley literally gnashed her teeth in outrage. “I hope that Charles was merely teasing me; surely, after so long a time apart, he would not actually propose to that woman this very day. And even if he did, well, there must be something we can do to break up an engagement! Jane is very handsome; perhaps we can find some other man to interest her. We will think of something!”

Louisa knitted another row of her sock, gathering her courage, and then spoke firmly. “I will not be assisting you in this matter, Caroline. Hurst and I are leaving for his family estate in Northamptonshire in two days.”

Her younger sister jerked and turned to stare in astonishment. “What absurdity is this? You cannot go to the country during the season!”

“We are,” Mrs. Hurst returned with surprising steel in her voice.

“Why would you even think of doing such a stupid thing?” her sister demanded angrily.

“Because I am expecting a child, and the London air does not agree with me,” Louisa said, straightening her body slightly.

Caroline Bingley gasped aloud as her gaze fell on her sister’s slightly plump torso. “You are with child?”

“Yes, Caroline, I am,” Louisa returned. “It is no great surprise, after all, is it? Now come, will you not finally congratulate me?”

Her sister bit her lip and then nodded quickly. “Of course, my dear sister, of course. Many congratulations! I am very happy for you! But there is no need for you to leave London for such a minor reason; indeed, you cannot! With Charles running amok, I need your support.”

Louisa Hurst had known, for many long years, that her younger sister was an entirely selfish creature. She had also known, for almost as many years, that Caroline’s strong will and whining ways were too much for her own, more docile, temperament. For most of her life, Caroline had led and Louisa had followed, sometimes willingly, sometimes unwillingly, but always obediently.

But now, with the awareness of new life within her body, a fierce love and protection for this child, the union of her husband and herself, rose up and gave her sudden strength.

“No, Caroline,” she stated evenly but firmly. “As I said, we are leaving. I have been quite unwell for weeks, not that you have apparently noticed, nor have you noticed that I have been knitting baby garments the last month. Mr. Hurst and I have talked and agreed that nothing must be done to threaten our baby’s well-being.”

Her sister gaped briefly before allowing crocodile tears to fill her brown eyes. “But what of me? I dislike the country, you know that, and Mr. Hurst’s father is most tedious! You cannot expect me to settle in such a dismal place!”

“I do not expect you to do so, no,” Mr. Hurst announced, striding unexpectedly through the door. Both ladies jumped, with Louisa gazing at him with relief and Caroline with disquiet. “My sister Elena is in residence with her husband at Whitham Place, and you do not deal well with her, Caroline. You must stay with Bingley while I take Louisa away, where she can rest and relax in peace.”

Caroline turned a piteous gaze on her older sister, but for the first time in forever, Louisa was entirely unaffected.

“You must make things up with Charles, Caroline,” she said, “or perhaps you can go to Bath to stay with Aunt Edwina.”

“Aunt Edwina! Widow of a tradesman! I would die rather!”

“Then I suggest that you humble yourself and work your way back into Charles’s good graces,” Louisa said drily.

***

Charles Bingley allowed his gaze to wander slowly around the small but well-tended garden behind the de Bourgh residence. The roses and irises were blooming, and the air was sweetly scented. It was, he supposed, the perfect place to propose marriage to the woman he loved.

Through a window, he could see Darcy, Miss Elizabeth, Miss de Bourgh, and the mysterious and frightening Miss Colby. He was grateful that they were giving him privacy with Miss Bennet.

He turned his eyes on the woman who still haunted his dreams, and his heart fell within him. Her beauty was, if anything, even more remarkable than when last they met, but her eyes were grave and her expression mournful.

“Are you well, Miss Bennet?” he asked softly.

Jane Bennet looked down on her loosely clasped hands and shook her head slowly. “In truth, I am not, Mr. Bingley.”

“Are you ill?” he asked worriedly. She did look a little pale.

“No,” she assured him quickly, lifting her sapphire eyes to meet his gaze. “No, I am well enough in body, but my spirit is quite downcast. I fear the shocks of the last day are weighing me down.”

Bingley hesitated before speaking carefully. “I do not know all of what you refer to, but I, too, have been rather distressed and confused by what has come to pass. I owe you an apology, Miss Bennet. It was wrong of me to leave Netherfield without a word of farewell last November and not return when I said that I would.”

“Yes, it was very rude,” Jane returned boldly, her eyes suddenly accusing. “I was heartbroken and mystified.”

“I ... I believed,” Bingley began haltingly, and then stopped when Jane lifted a silencing hand.

“It does not matter why you did not return, sir. I thought that there was more between us than there was. I have come to accept that.”

“That is not true,” Bingley averred, suddenly dropping to one knee before the lady of his heart and reaching out to grasp her gloved hands. “I love you, Miss Bennet. Please, will you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”

She stared into his face for a long minute and then slowly shook her head. “I am sorry, but no. I loved you very much and you left me. I have come to the sad realization that my rosy view of the people around me is a false one. I must learn to accept reality.”

“Please, Miss Bennet, please, I beg you, do not cast me aside. I truly love and adore you, and only left because ... because...”

“Because Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley convinced you that I did not love you, and would marry you only for money,” Jane said, pulling her hands gently away. “I know. But if you truly loved me enough to ask me to marry you, you should have loved me enough to trust that I would marry only for true affection. I believe you are a good man, Mr. Bingley, but even that is no certain thing, is it? After all, Mr. Wickham has the outward appearance of goodness, and inwardly he is a snake.”

Charles Bingley shuddered in actual horror at these words.

“Miss Bennet...”

“No, sir, I am sorry. I hope we can be friends, but until I reevaluate myself and my foolishly optimistic outlook towards life, I can pledge myself to no man.”

She rose to her feet at these words and stepped firmly toward the de Bourgh house, leaving Charles Bingley, thoroughly flummoxed, standing alone.

***

“Mother and I will visit Darcy House tomorrow morning to discuss further plans,” Anne de Bourgh said.

“Thank you, Anne,” Darcy replied gravely. A moment later, a footman opened the carriage door, and Darcy and Bingley climbed within to be carried back to Darcy House.

Darcy waited until the carriage was in motion before speaking to his friend, whose woebegone countenance and crushed demeanor indicated that he had been through an appalling experience.

“What happened?” he asked softly, though he was afraid he knew. When Miss Bennet had marched into the parlor from the garden, her face was pale and her eyes flaming, neither of which indicated that her interview with Bingley had been a successful one. Elizabeth had taken one look at her older sister’s countenance and had promptly taken leave of the group. Before Darcy could say anything more than the conventional farewells, Anne had called for the carriage, and the Bennets had been swept away by the butler to depart for Gracechurch Street.

“She refused me,” Bingley replied softly, his brown eyes gazing blankly outside at the passing streets. “She will not marry me.”

Darcy felt as if a knife had pierced his heart. It had only been a few days since he had proposed to Miss Elizabeth and been rejected. It was a heartrending, agonizing experience for a man.

“I am sorry, Bingley,” Darcy murmured.

“I love her so much,” Bingley continued wretchedly. “Miss Bennet loved me too, and would have accepted my hand in November, but now she says that I clearly did not love her enough to return for her and ... and ... she said she does not even know that I am a good man. She said perhaps I am like Wickham, good on the outside and evil within.”

Darcy straightened in genuine surprise. He had always thought Jane Bennet a beautiful but passive creature; such stern words were quite shocking from such a gentle person.

“She is correct, too,” Bingley continued, his head bowed. “I was a coward, not a gentleman. I let you and Caroline and Louisa convince me that Miss Bennet did not love me. I was a fool, and now I have lost the woman I adore more than life itself.”

Darcy felt a mixture of intense guilt and anxiety; guilt because he had led his friend astray, anxiety because if Bingley did not return to Netherfield Hall, where would he stay while he courted Elizabeth and dealt with Wickham?

“What will you do?” he asked in a studiously calm tone.

Charles Bingley leaned back against the brown velvet squabs of the carriage and closed his eyes. For a full three minutes, all was silent until he sat up with sudden determination and leaned forward to glare into Darcy’s face.

“I will go back to Netherfield Hall and attempt to win Miss Bennet’s heart again,” he announced.

Darcy felt a surge of relief but forced himself to retain a tranquil expression. “Are you quite certain, Bingley? It may prove a difficult and discouraging process.”

“I am absolutely determined, yes. I have drifted through life for some time now and have found a woman I cherish and treasure. Perhaps I will fail, but I must try. You must come with me, Darcy, and win Miss Elizabeth.”

Darcy felt his shoulders relax in relief, and he reached out to shake the other man’s hand. “We will do what we can to show the Miss Bennets that we are good men on the inside as well as the out.”