Page 11 of Superior Connections

T he tables were already prepared for supper, and Jane had saved them two chairs. They sat while being questioned about their whereabouts.

“I was a little tired, and Lizzy took me to the library to rest. I am well now.”

“You do look a little pale, Aunt,” Jane insisted.

“Do not worry, my dear. I am well.”

A few minutes later, all three Bingleys returned, together with Mr Darcy. They took their seats, and the soup was served while the conversation resumed. Elizabeth noticed that her father was scrutinising her intently. She must have looked disconcerted, and he had certainly noticed.

Lady Rosseford regained her volubility sooner than Elizabeth, who kept glancing at Mr Bingley, his sisters, and Mr Darcy. The first looked miserable and pale, and his sisters kept a glacial distance from everyone, while the latter’s frown revealed little of his true feelings.

The quarrel she had unwittingly witnessed troubled Elizabeth to her core, though there were only a few things she did not expect. She knew Mr Bingley’s sisters’ opinions of her and their family, as well as their insincere friendliness to Jane. And she was also aware of Mr Darcy’s objections to their family and everyone else in Meryton. That circumstances had brought him to Longbourn and he had become better acquainted with her father and Lady Rosseford was likely not enough to gain his good opinion, which once lost was lost forever, as he had once admitted.

There were two things that perturbed Elizabeth more than anything. The first was the assertion that Mr Bingley fell in love — and apparently out of love — easily and often, which was a worrisome flaw in his character. And the second was that Miss Bingley knew of Mr Darcy finding her — Elizabeth — pretty and admiring her eyes. That was disquieting, even alarming, and she could not comprehend the meaning of it.

During supper, Lady Rosseford asked Mr Wickham a few questions in an amiable, almost friendly way, which surprised Elizabeth as much as it did the officer.

“You should come and visit again, Mr Wickham,” Lady Rosseford said. “We still have many things to discuss. But regardless of the subject of our conversation, your company is always pleasant.”

“I thank you, your ladyship. I shall certainly come!”

“Good. You and your fellow officers might come to dinner one evening. I expect there will be fewer guests to entertain in the coming weeks.”

The rest of the Bennets looked surprised about such an invitation, and Elizabeth noticed Mr Darcy’s expression darken and his frown deepen. She knew her ladyship had issued the invitation only to upset the man. Elizabeth found such a gesture deeply unfair but could not censure her aunt.

“What a wonderful idea, your ladyship!” Mrs Bennet cried. “A dinner with all the officers! But we must plan it carefully, as Longbourn’s dining room is not as big as I would wish it to be.”

Lady Rosseford looked about with a smile pressed between her lips and a mischievous expression on her face that worried Elizabeth.

“Well then, perhaps we should host the party at Stoke Park, as soon as the house is ready.”

Her reply caused some stupefaction in those who had heard, and Mr Bennet threw his aunt an intrigued gaze.

“But Lady Rosseford, Stoke Park is not in use,” Mrs Bennet explained, looking confused. “I hear it has been let, but we cannot go there.”

“Of course we can go, my dear,” the lady answered cheerfully. “Stoke Park has not been let but purchased. By me. I planned for it to be a surprise when it was ready. But I imagine this is as good a moment as any other.”

Even amidst the din of voices, silence and perplexed countenances followed that statement. Mrs Bennet was so shocked that she dropped her fork, which fell onto her plate with a loud clatter. She continued to stare at Lady Rosseford, blinking and gulping repeatedly. “You purchased Stoke Park?” she finally uttered.

“I did. I found it charming, and I decided to purchase it as I am determined to have a home in Hertfordshire. I do not change my wishes and plans easily,” she said with a quick yet meaningful glare at Mr Bingley, who looked anguished at the rebuke.

Lady Rosseford continued, imperturbable.

“I hope the house will be finished soon — just like my new house in London. Several rooms need decorating and furnishing, but hopefully, it will not take long. I look forward to hosting parties and balls there.”

She ended with the same smile and with a glance at Elizabeth, who threw back a disapproving look.

For the rest of the meal, the conversation was monopolised by Mrs Bennet and her younger daughters, all expressing their amazement and their joy — too loudly and quite improperly.

Lady Rosseford answered a few questions, seemingly very pleased with herself.

“Aunt Dorothea, I know you did that on purpose,” Elizabeth whispered at the first opportunity. “And while I understand your reasons, I cannot approve of your actions. Inviting Mr Wickham to dinner and then disclosing to the whole room something that should have been a family matter was improper and unfair to both Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy.”

“You are right, my dear,” the lady unexpectedly answered, shocking Elizabeth again. “It was absolutely improper and unfair, and of course I did it on purpose. I know you might be upset, but I hope you will forgive me. After all, I am your aunt, and they are nothing to you.”

Lady Rosseford closed any further debate on the subject, and Elizabeth found no arguments to continue it.

The rest of the evening passed rather awkwardly, with some people dancing and many others just gossiping. Mr Bingley cast repeated glances at Lady Rosseford as he timidly approached Jane several more times and then asked her for the last set. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst spent most of the time in a corner, talking privately and glaring at the lady. Mr Darcy stood in another corner, holding a glass that seemed to always be full. He spoke briefly to a few gentlemen but remained in solitary reflection. He looked as troubled as Elizabeth felt, and the temptation to talk to him was painfully strong, but she did not dare approach him, and neither did he attempt to approach her.

After the ball, as they waited for their carriages to convey them home, Mrs Bennet and her youngest daughters were still overjoyed, and they chatted loudly. Mr Collins did not say much, Mr Bennet did not even attempt to say anything, and Elizabeth was too distracted to engage in conversation. As for Lady Rosseford, she did not need many words to express her contentment; it was quite obvious on her face.

∞∞∞

Darcy sipped some coffee, struggling to keep his eyes open. The sharp headache made the light too strong and even the smallest sound unbearable. He had not slept at all after the ball, and those three glasses of brandy he had shared with Bingley had not helped his present misery.

They had spoken for more than an hour; Bingley had been deeply distressed and had declared his happiness would be completely ruined without Jane Bennet. After the second drink, he had begun to reveal all sorts of small details, like the way he held Miss Bennet’s hand, how her presence made him feel, the scent of her perfume — until Darcy felt mortified and guilty at the same time. He had no clear evidence to doubt his judgment, but he wished he had not interfered and had never discussed such a delicate matter concerning his friend with the man’s sisters.

Things had taken a turn for the worse, and Bingley might have lost his chance with Miss Bennet, but Darcy had certainly lost any progress in his friendship with Elizabeth. He called it friendship because he was too weak and too cowardly to call it love — which it was.

While he was ready to bear his sorrow and to fight to remedy his errors, he blamed himself for the grief he had caused his friend. If Bingley was truly in love with Jane Bennet and she returned his feelings — as Lady Rosseford had declared — then two innocent people would suffer because of his arrogant intervention and Lady Rosseford’s obvious pleasure in taking revenge.

The day after the ball was expected to be chaotic and tiresome, with all the preparations for their departure. But when remorse was added to the existing disorder, the day became truly unbearable — a sentiment that perfectly mirrored Darcy’s own despondent state of mind.

Gathered around the breakfast table, Bingley, his sisters, and his brother-in-law did not look any better.

“I look forward to returning to London as soon as possible,” Miss Bingley said.

Bingley looked up from his plate. “They why wait? Pack your bags and leave now. You will be in town by this evening.”

“Charles! You cannot speak to your sister in such a way!” Mrs Hurst interjected, while Miss Bingley was silenced by the rude reply.

“Louisa, I can and I will speak however I please. Just as you two spoke and did as you pleased with no regard for my needs or wishes. All this will end today. You may stay or leave, but do not demand anything from me! We are not bound to each other, we do not have to travel together, and we can each mind our own business!”

In more than three years of friendship, Darcy had never seen Bingley half as angry; nor had he heard him speak to his sisters so impolitely.

Mrs Hurst put a hand on her brother’s arm. “Charles, I can see you are upset—”

“I am not upset, Louisa,” he interrupted her. “I am furious, appalled, and embarrassed. You made me look like a ridiculous fool! You disregarded my requests when I addressed them kindly and politely. Therefore, I shall use a completely different approach. And to be clear — I shall need privacy when I return to London, so I expect Caroline to stay with you and your husband this winter. If you wish to come and visit, you should send a note the day prior.”

“Charles! Do not be ridiculous! Now you are acting like a fool!” Miss Bingley cried.

“Your opinion means little to me at this time. My decision has been made. I plan to host many parties this winter, and your presence is unwelcome.”

“Charles, are you out of your mind? You cannot throw Caroline out of the house!”

“Why should she spend more time living with her single brother than with her married sister? Your husband owns a house, and you enjoy Caroline’s company. She may very well stay with you until she marries.”

The sisters exchanged panicked glances, then looked at Darcy, as if asking for support, but he showed more interest in his plate.

“You are ready to split your family apart because of Eliza Bennet and her vulgar aunt?” Miss Bingley enquired. “That woman is the most horrible human being I have ever met.”

“Ah — and here we are again. You blame Elizabeth Bennet for anything and everything! This is ludicrous. And yes, Lady Rosseford is outspoken, and when angered, she can be rude and spiteful, but only a little bit more than you. The difference is that she owns a title and a house in London and has just purchased an estate larger than Netherfield. What a difference, indeed!”

“I have met many titled ladies, and none of them resemble that one!” Mrs Hurst declared.

“Well, who knows? None of those titled ladies expressed their opinions directly. You offended Lady Rosseford’s family, so she offended you.”

“You are impossible to talk to today,” Miss Bingley declared.

“I might be. But I shall not change my mind, so please make your travelling plans accordingly.”

“Mr Darcy, when do you plan to leave?” Miss Bingley asked.

“I am not certain yet,” he answered abruptly. “For now, I shall go for a ride. Alone, if nobody has any objections,” he said, glancing at Bingley.

“One who falls in love so often and easily should not be allowed to form any objections,” Bingley replied sarcastically. Darcy did not reply.