Page 25

Story: The Deception

M r. Bingley was quite right. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were ready to accompany their brother and Mr. Darcy to Longbourn early in the afternoon.

Mary was looking out the window when the Bingley carriage pulled up to the entryway. She watched Mr. Bingley exit the carriage and then hand out his two sisters. “Oh, heavens,” she groaned.

“What is it, Kitty?” Jane enquired.

“It is Mr. Bingley and his two sisters.”

“His sisters? I wonder that they dare show their faces here!” Elizabeth said.

“Lizzy, behave yourself!” Jane admonished her.

“I shall do my best,” Elizabeth grumbled.

“I make no such promise,” Mary said. “I am determined never to remain quiet again! Wait, there is Mr. Darcy getting out of the carriage as well.”

Only Jane heard Elizabeth’s gasp.

The visitors were announced; the girls stood and curtsied. Enquiries after everyone’s health were made and satisfied, and Jane pulled the bell cord and requested a tea tray.

“How are you holding up, Miss Bennet?” Miss Bingley began.

“Well enough, Miss Bingley.”

Caroline persevered. “Your sister’s illness and your mother’s death – what dreadful circumstances! I cannot imagine! Can you, Louisa?”

Mrs. Hurst joined in at once, agreeing that it was everything dreadful.

“We have been fortunate in our friends,” Elizabeth said, pointedly. “Everyone has been very kind and come to spend time with us, and that has helped us a good deal.”

Jane shot Elizabeth a look that silenced her, but Mary shocked the room by saying, “Miss Bingley, what a surprise it was to see Mr. Bingley again and learn that he was not, in point of fact, betrothed to Miss Darcy.”

“What?” Mr. Darcy said at once. “Bingley betrothed to my sister? Whatever can you mean, Miss Mary?”

“I am certain it is nothing –“ Miss Bingley began at once.

Mary overrode her without hesitation. “Miss Bingley was kind enough to send us a letter explaining the decision to abandon Netherfield last winter. That letter told us that her brother was soon to be betrothed to Miss Darcy. How surprised we were to learn that this was not the case. Jane, you still have the letter, do you not?”

There was a moment of silence in the room, broken suddenly by a babble of voices.

Mr. Darcy was saying, “Miss Bingley, I wonder how you dared –“ and Mr. Bingley was saying, “Miss Darcy?

Why, she is just a child –“ and Miss Bingley was saying, “I only said that I hoped –“ and Mrs. Hurst was saying, “Why, Caroline, how could –“ and then Mary overrode the voices by standing up and saying, “Perhaps I am confused as to the contents of the letter. I know that Jane keeps it in her top drawer, and it would be the work of a moment to fetch the letter and read it aloud to the company. Shall I do so?”

“No, I think not,” Miss Bingley whispered.

“Did you really write that, Caroline?” Mr. Bingley said, his voice laced with horror.

His sister looked away.

Mr. Darcy stared at Miss Bingley. “I cannot believe that you would utilise my sister’s name in your schemes, Miss Bingley. I confess myself most seriously displeased.”

Miss Bingley rose. “I find that I have a dreadful headache. Charles, may we return to Netherfield?”

“Caroline, you may certainly go; I am certain the Bennet ladies will understand. But I will remain here.”

Both Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst left the room at once, not looking back.

“I cannot tell you how very sorry I am,” Mr. Bingley said, once his sisters were out of the room.

“Had you paid us a call before leaving, as good manners would dictate, we would not have had to rely upon such a letter to tell us why you were departing,” Mary said.

“Mary!” Jane hissed.

“No, she is quite right,” Mr. Bingley said. “I have no excuse for such bad behaviour. Miss Bennet, I apologise from the bottom of my heart. I feel that all I do is apologise to you.” He smiled, but it was a sad smile indeed.

Mr. Darcy said, through clenched teeth, “Bingley, your sister’s manners are none of my business, but were she my sister –“

Kitty interrupted, saying, “I have your drawing, Mr. Darcy.” She leant down to reach under the sofa and produced a rolled-up piece of paper. She rose and handed it to Mr. Darcy, who unrolled it and held it up.

The Bennet girls gasped. “It is Lydia!” Mary said. “Kitty, that is wonderful!”’

Jane turned away from the paper.

“Jane?” Elizabeth asked, concerned.

“I do not know how to feel, sister,” Jane said, softly. “I am furious at her, of course, but I am also dreadfully worried about her.”

“I am doing everything I can,” Mr. Darcy began.

“Oh, yes, I know, Mr. Darcy, and we are everything grateful.” Jane said.

“Miss Kitty, can you make more of these drawings?” Mr. Darcy asked.

“I will, of course; how many do you need?”

“As many as you can manage; once you have a full dozen, I will bring them to London.”

Jane said, “Kitty, we will take over your other duties so that you may concentrate on the drawings. How wonderful that you have this talent! It may help our sister return to us.”