Page 27 of I Thee Wed (Pride And Prejudice Variation #2)
Jane was very happy, and the days that she had passed in Mr. Bingley’s company restored her former serenity and bloom.
He was now spending the majority of his day with her, either visiting a museum, strolling through the royal menagerie, or taking simple drives in Hyde Park.
His devotion was unquestionable, and the Gardiners were in daily expectation of an announcement of courtship or of a betrothal.
But Caroline Bingley decided to try one last time to break up the relationship.
The more attention she received from the Viscount, the more despair she felt about her brother’s attachment to the tradesman’s niece.
She resolved to try again. Finding the persuasion of Charles himself impossible, she turned her venom instead upon Elizabeth.
If she could shake Elizabeth’s confidence, if she could sow doubt in her mind, and through her in Jane’s, perhaps the match might yet be prevented.
One morning at the breakfast table, a letter was placed in Elizabeth’s hand by the butler. Elizabeth did not recognize the elegant hand. She broke the seal and saw Caroline’s name written at the bottom of the short letter.
Eliza,
I am astonished that you and Jane have so readily forgotten my brother’s abandonment, and how you rely now upon his professions, when your experience in Hertfordshire ought to have enlightened you.
You must recall his sudden departure from Netherfield, his complete abandonment of Miss Bennet, and the pain such caprice occasioned. I cannot help but think it is my duty, as his sister, to warn you both.
Charles is amiable, but he is not constant.
His affections flit as lightly as a butterfly from flower to flower, settling nowhere for long.
Today, he gazes upon your sister with rapture; tomorrow, some other fair face will catch his fancy, and Miss Bennet will be forgotten as readily as she was before.
You may blame me and Mr. Darcy, if you like, for having encouraged him away from Hertfordshire.
I make no denial of our wishes to see him allied with families more suitable to his fortune.
But you should blame Charles most of all, for it is his nature to be easily led, easily diverted, never firm in his purpose.
For your sister’s sake, I entreat you: do not encourage her hopes. It would be cruel indeed to let her lean upon so frail a reed.
Yours,
Caroline Bingley
Elizabeth’s second and third readings only served to make her angrier with the woman, who was, unfortunately, such a close relation of Mr. Bingley that she would always be a part of Jane’s family should they marry.
Caroline’s malice showed through; her pretense of sisterly concern, meant to disguise her attempt to thwart the match, was far too clumsy to deceive.
Elizabeth crumpled the letter. Her thoughts were indignant.
Jane shall never see this. Caroline has betrayed herself.
If anything, such venom is proof of Charles’s constancy, for why else should she tremble at his devotion?
Elizabeth threw the letter into the fireplace, where the paper curled, blackened, and vanished into a short burst of flame among the hot coals. She watched it burn and felt deep satisfaction.
Let Caroline scheme as she will. Charles’s eyes speak more than her letters ever could. Jane’s happiness is secure.
That night, when Elizabeth lay in bed, she found rest impossible. Miss Bingley’s letter returned to haunt her thoughts, and with it the certain knowledge that Mr. Darcy himself had lent his hand to the cruel separation of Jane and Mr. Bingley.
She shut her eyes, trying to deny the truth, but without success.
He, along with Caroline, had been the instigators of Jane’s sorrow.
They had been the source of the tears she shed every night, of the gossip she had suffered in Meryton, until it grew too much for her to endure.
She was driven away by the mortification of their snide remarks and by the anguish that had shadowed her gentle spirit for weeks.
Elizabeth became angry, and the pain they had endured was brought vividly back. If she were a man, she would have called him to account as any man would another. To rebuke his arrogance face-to-face would be her only relief.
Her thoughts turned to her family. In injuring Jane, Mr. Darcy had injured them all and caused each to suffer. Jane was the heart and soul of the family. And Elizabeth herself, dearest to Jane and most privy to her afflictions, had borne the pain most keenly.
A cold fury burned in her breast. She tossed restlessly upon the bed, unable to still her thoughts. He shall not escape my censure, she vowed silently. If ever he presumes to speak to me, I shall let him hear the truth of his conduct.
While Elizabeth’s indignation kept her awake, Caroline was also suffering, and her fretfulness was not relieved when Louisa returned one afternoon from Bond Street to find her husband in a state of unusual agitation.
“At White’s today,” Mr. Hurst announced, pouring himself a glass of claret, “I looked into the betting book. There are wagers laid, and no small ones, on how long it will take Dunwich to bed his latest prey, the tradesman’s daughter.
That is you, Caroline. Half the club has staked a guinea or two on your ruin. ”
Louisa turned pale. Caroline, crimson, protested, “It is scandalous! Lies and inventions of idle men!”
Hurst shrugged, unimpressed. “Perhaps. Yet the gentlemen of White’s do not usually place their money on poor odds.” He smirked into his claret. “You had best take care, sister, or you will become the sport of every gaming table in St. James’s.”
Louisa, recovering, spoke sharply. “Caroline, you must put an end to this. You must turn the Viscount away at once. If the betting book names you, you will end in ruin.”
Caroline did not want to believe ill of the Viscount, but her brother's words lingered uneasily in the back of her mind.
Elizabeth went down to the breakfast parlor the next morning, exhausted from lack of sleep. Her uncle was reading his paper, and Aunt Gardiner was sipping her chocolate while reading the advertisements. Jane was still upstairs at her mirror, preparing to see Mr. Bingley.
When Elizabeth set her plate on the table, her aunt greeted her. “Good morning, Lizzy. You are pale. Did you rest ill?”
Elizabeth sipped her tea. “I was unable to fall asleep, Aunt Maddie. I think London is stifling, and I am not yet accustomed to it. When I found that I could not sleep, I rose and worked upon my verses. I was finally able to drop off near four o’clock in the morning.”
Mrs. Gardiner’s eyes narrowed. “A walk in the park will do you good. It is a fine day, and I would be happy to walk with you in Hyde Park. I remember that Miss Darcy spoke of her fondness for the paths there. Perhaps Jane and Mr. Bingley will accompany us.”
At the mention of Miss Darcy, Elizabeth’s stomach tightened, for Mr. Darcy’s trespass came immediately to her mind. She forced a smile and said, “If you wish to walk, I will attend you, Aunt Maddie.”
Breakfast continued, and though she was outwardly composed, her thoughts were troubled. How am I to meet Mr. Darcy and be civil to him, knowing all the while he has caused my sister so much grief?
A hot tide of anger rose, then cooled into determination. No, I cannot remain silent. If he should approach me as though nothing had passed, I will not flatter him with forbearance. He shall hear the truth of what he has done.
By mid-morning, the maid announced that Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy had arrived.
Jane set aside her work and stood, smiling at Mr. Bingley.
Elizabeth, who stood at the window, felt her stomach contract so sharply that she grew faint.
The moment she had dreaded was upon her, and she knew she must speak.
Mr. Bingley walked to Jane’s side and greeted her so warmly that both Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth felt this could be the day he offered for Jane. Mr. Darcy bowed to the three women and then walked to Elizabeth’s side.
Elizabeth curtsied politely, but her heart was beating wildly in her breast. In a moment of cowardice, she withdrew to the farthest corner of the room and seated herself.
Mr. Bingley asked Jane if she would attend an art exhibition with him and the Hursts.
Elizabeth could hear him describing the artists and paintings that were on display, and Mrs. Gardiner said that Jane might go.
Mr. Darcy approached Elizabeth and addressed her.
“Miss Bennet, I hope you are well. You are very quiet this morning.”
Her reply was cool. “Thank you, sir. I am quite well.”
“And your family in Hertfordshire, are they well?”
“My family, sir, endures as best they can. We all suffered deeply from the injury inflicted when a certain separation occurred.”
Mr. Darcy flushed from his neck to the tips of his ears.
“You speak plainly, madam.”
“I do,” she returned, her eyes flashing.
“Two days ago, I was informed in a letter from Miss Bingley that the two of you contrived together to remove Mr. Bingley from Hertfordshire. You judged my sister unworthy without knowing her, without caring for her feelings, and the result was grief such as I hope never again to witness.”
She was angry. “Jane is my nearest relation, the person I love most in the world. When you injured my sister, you also injured me. Every time she cried, I cried along with her. You cannot imagine what it is to see a loved one’s heart break.”
Darcy was stricken.
Elizabeth brushed away her tears with the back of her hand. “You did it. You injured her, and you did not even take the time to know her before you passed judgment.”
He tried to speak. “Miss Bennet.” Words failed him.
Then he said hoarsely, “I had not thought to injure you. It was never my design. I cannot express…” He broke off again.
“You are rightly angered. I cannot deny my part. I believed then that I acted for my friend’s good. I see now that I was mistaken.”
Elizabeth’s anger held. “Mistaken? Sir, your mistake cost her the deepest throes of anguish. Do you imagine such a wound excused so lightly? At one point, I despaired that I was not a man, for I would have surely called you out in defense of my gentle sister.”
Darcy bowed his head. “Miss Bennet. I do not ask you for forgiveness. I acknowledge that I did wrong, and I regret it most sincerely.”
Elizabeth only looked at him. His apology and his candor silenced her.