Page 15 of The Painting (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

“L izzy, Mr Bingley said he did not know I was in London,” a nervous Jane confessed to her sister when they were finally alone. “He said Mr Darcy informed him only yesterday.”

“I suspected as much, Jane.”

“But Lizzy, how is it possible? I was at his house! Why did Caroline not tell him?”

“Would you like to wait and ask Mr Bingley, or should I venture a guess? It is clear that Caroline purposely deceived her brother to keep him away from you!”

“I cannot believe Caroline could be so dishonest…”

“I can. Quite easily!”

“What a strange turn of events, Lizzy! If we had not come to Brighton, and if Mr Bingley was not here too, I would have never found out. All would have been lost. All this time, I believed that he had no interest in meeting me again.”

“The turn of events has been extraordinary indeed, but I doubt everything would have been lost otherwise. If Mr Bingley was interested in meeting you again he would have found a way, as soon as Mr Darcy told him the truth.”

“Mr Darcy…Yet…How selfish of me…How are you feeling, Lizzy? After everything that occurred between you?”

“I feel strange. I cannot describe it. I did not expect to meet him either. ”

“Do you think he is angry with you? Or upset? I did not notice any resentment in his manners. Quite the contrary.”

“I cannot imagine how he feels about me, but his behaviour was kinder than I expected or deserved Jane, I know that. After I abused him so shockingly. No man would forgive such treatment.”

“I am sure you blame yourself too much, dearest.”

“Not at all, Jane. I was abominably rude to him. Not for refusing him—I could not have willingly agreed to marry a man for whom I felt so little and so ill—but my accusations were mostly born from hate, spite and prejudice. And from my silly, ridiculous preference for Mr Wickham.”

“You should not be so hard on yourself, Lizzy. Mr Darcy’s improved manners show he understood your mistakes and is not opposed to overlooking them.

His civility today was almost friendly, as though he was ready to accept a cordial relationship with you.

And confessing the truth to Mr Bingley showed that he is not opposed to him remaining our friend. ”

Jane was flushed from nervousness, Elizabeth from guilt.

“I cannot forgive my own stupidity, even if Mr Darcy can. He might say to himself, ‘well, she was a silly girl, charmed by a rascal. Not the first and surely not the last,’ and that would hurt me more than his anger, Jane!”

“Lizzy, I do not know what to say. I am sorry that you are so troubled.”

“I am, and deservedly so, Jane,” Elizabeth admitted, then she looked at her sister and smiled. “But let us not speak of your simple-minded sister, but of your Mr Bingley. He does look very handsome, I admit that.”

“He is not my Mr Bingley, Lizzy. But he is a dear friend whom I was happy to meet again.”

“Oh yes he is, or he very soon will be. Everyone who saw him today would agree with me. Shame on him, he seemed determined to do anything to remain in your company!” she laughed.

“Mr Bingley is always amiable and friendly, Lizzy.”

“He is. But more so on some occasions than others,” Elizabeth continued to tease Jane, who tried to deny the insinuations.

The conversation with Jane aroused more questions and speculations for Elizabeth.

Bingley had mentioned several times that he would visit Pemberley next month, but still Darcy had asked him to come to Brighton and told him the truth about Jane.

He could not have any other reason than his willingness to admit his errors and make amends for them.

If Jane had not been in Brighton, Bingley—who seemed as much in love as he was last autumn—would have likely returned to Netherfield.

Bingley’s admiration for Jane was so openly displayed that even the Crawfords—as little interest as they had in him—noticed it.

And Darcy had shown no sign of disapproval—as he had done so many times in Hertfordshire.

His actions revealed more of Darcy’s character and true nature, which she had failed so badly to notice before.

And with her, he was indeed more than polite. Just as Jane had said, he appeared willing to continue their acquaintance as it had been—but on an even friendlier footing. Of her own wishes, she was still uncertain, but she was slowly becoming less distressed too.

∞∞∞

The day of the happy reunion might have been warm for their souls, but it was still cold and overcast. After his visit to the Crawford Cottage, Darcy stopped to see Mrs Julia Norwood and to introduce Bingley to her.

They heard her playing the pianoforte, but the children—Annie and James—hurried to announce them and she immediately appeared to greet them.

The puppy was playing at their feet, while the kitten sat on a chair, momentarily abandoned by the girl.

They sat outside in the garden, exchanging pleasantries, but shortly afterwards the wind intensified and the clouds darkened again. Julia invited them inside, but as it was already late in the afternoon, they declined and postponed the visit for the next day .

“If the weather allows it, we will go to sea bathing before noon. My son promised Mrs Gardiner’s sons that we would join them,” Mrs Norwood explained.

“Well then, this is quite perfect,” Bingley hurried to answer. “We will go sea bathing too! We have already spoken to Mrs Gardiner.”

“Ah, I see,” she replied meaningfully. “It is good that we are all staying so close to each other. Whether we are at home or at the beach, we can easily meet.”

A clap of thunder hastened their separation and the lady entered the house while they return to Mrs Clarke’s.

Until dinnertime, Bingley was restless. He expressed his admiration for Mrs Norwood, his wonder at the circumstances that had brought them all together, and he mentioned Miss Bennet in every other sentence.

Darcy tried to politely listen to him, but his thoughts were running from one house to the next, reflecting on the richness of all he had experienced in the last two days—details about his mother combined with his observations regarding Elizabeth.

His feelings suffered changes every day—in truth, several times a day—throwing him from torment and despair to elation and hope.

“Mrs Clarke, please join us for dinner. There are several things I would like to discuss with you,” he addressed their host.

“Of course, sir. Did you have a pleasant day?”

“Yes, very much so. We discovered we have some close acquaintances who have rented rooms at Mrs Crawford’s house, so we called on them, and we visited Mrs Norwood too. I felt very fortunate to be able to share memories of my mother with people who were fond of her.”

“Oh, how wonderful! I am sure they were exceedingly happy to see you too!”

“I believe they were. And we were all surprised by the coincidence that brought us all together.”

Mrs Clarke seemed puzzled.

“What coincidence? You came here following in your mother’s footsteps and we have been here all the time.

Well, not quite. Mrs Crawford lived in Oxfordshire with her husband and daughter for several years and she returned only when both her brothers passed away.

And Julia lived in London from the time of her marriage until her mother passed away and she took on the responsibility of caring for her uncle. ”

“The coincidence is that our friends from Hertfordshire are spending a whole month here too,” Bingley interjected.

“Ah I see. That is a coincidence, indeed. And they are staying at the Crawford cottage you say?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Mrs Clarke, I understand that both Mrs Crawford and Julia’s mother had brothers?”

“Yes,” the lady replied, surprised by the enquiry.

“And…have they all passed away?”

“Oh no. Mrs Fitzroy’s brother still lives with Julia.”

“I see…And did they all live here when they were young?”

“For few years, from what I recall. They then left and returned again when they grew old. I am not certain when it happened, but perhaps Jenny will remember. I can ask her if you wish.”

“There is no need, Mrs Clarke. I will speak to Mrs Crawford and Mrs Norwood again soon. I am sure we still have many subjects of conversation and many recollections to share,” Darcy concluded.

And he had every intention of doing so. Calm, patient and careful, he would simply enjoy his time with the two ladies and, with God’s will, he might find the answers to all his asked and unasked questions, as well as to a part of his torment. At least with regards to his mother.

With Elizabeth—the keeper of the other half of his turmoil—he dared make no plans and no assumptions.

Only hopes. Despite her reticence, he recognised that her behaviour towards him had changed.

She was less at ease with him, less teasing, more uncomfortable and restrained than she had been in Hertfordshire and Kent.

But, compared with that dreadful day at the parsonage and with how he had imagined their meetings might be after the failed proposal, she was much more conciliatory, warm, soft and friendly.

Perhaps her opinion of him had improved. Perhaps she was only content that her sister had been reunited with Bingley. Regardless, he would not allow himself to ruin their acquaintance again.

He knew, he felt, he admitted that her presence brought him joy, that he had longed to see her again and was already counting the minutes until their next encounter.

He would do everything in his power to prove to her that he had taken her reproofs to heart and that he could change.

He would strive to be the opposite to how he had been in the first seven months of their acquaintance.

The rest—if there was to be anything else—would depend on her entirely.

“I hope tomorrow will be a warm, sunny day!” Bingley said excitedly.

“So do I, Bingley. I very much hope so,” he admitted absently.