Page 43 of The Shades of Pemberley
T he previous evening turned out to be nothing more than an appetizer, for the main course was to arrive the following morning.
It was a feast for which Darcy had no appetite, and one he had hoped the previous night would not even appear.
The first indication he had that he would not escape became evident the moment he descended the stairs to partake of breakfast that morning.
“Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Bingley, the woman giving every impression of loitering at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for his appearance, “how excellent it is to see you this morning. Shall you not escort me to the dining-room?”
The way she regarded him, a hint of breathless anticipation seasoned by a coquettish lilt and a hint of fluttering about her eyelashes, told Darcy that the Miss Bingley he had not seen the previous evening had made an appearance.
To do anything other than offer her arm was rude, so Darcy did his duty as a host and accepted her request. That did not stay her ambition, for she did not allow a hint of silence to persist unfilled.
“I understand this estate has been in your family for some time, sir.”
“It has,” replied Darcy with an absence of mind, still curious about how far she would take her interest. “My grandfather received Netherfield from his father, the master of Pemberley at the time. He was a second son, you see.”
“Yes, but now you are the Darcy of Pemberley. Though Netherfield must be familiar to you, I cannot but suppose your home in the north is much more than this estate.”
“No one who has ever seen Pemberley can disagree,” replied Darcy. Then, feeling a measure of Elizabeth’s mischief settle over him, he added: “Have you ever toured Pemberley?”
The way Miss Bingley’s frank gaze rested on him, Darcy was certain he had made a calculated error. “No, Mr. Darcy, I have not had that pleasure, though I hope to see it someday.”
“Perhaps you may tour it sometime when you have the opportunity,” said Darcy, opting for a bland reply. “As I understand, your roots are in the north.”
“They are,” agreed Miss Bingley, not deterred at all by Darcy’s noncommittal reply. “Perhaps I shall, as you say. As I have heard of the place from others who boast some familiarity, it must be a blessing to anyone who calls it home.”
In her comment was, of course, a concealed desire that she might call it home in the future.
Darcy ignored it, leading her into the dining-room where the others waited, where he seated her and took his position at the table.
Bingley, he noted, was watching his sister, likely suspecting something of her behavior already.
Darcy shrugged, and Bingley nodded, the message exchanged and accepted.
Had that been all Bingley’s evidence, he still would have watched his sister, but soon the truth of her interest was revealed in her actions.
While the Miss Bingley of the previous evening had remained silent and watchful, this version of the woman rarely let quiet settle between them, her comments comprising his good fortune, compliments about his person, Georgiana, and everything else that crossed her mind.
Though she always couched her predatory comments in enough ambiguity to render her meaning uncertain, Darcy understood her very well.
Caroline Bingley was an ambitious woman, one who wished to rise above her station, and while Darcy suspected she was not confident in her ability to turn him away from Elizabeth, she was not about to allow the opportunity to pass her by without at least trying.
It should be noted that Darcy was not unaware of the wiles young women searching for wealthy husbands might employ; even as a gentleman of much less appeal in society than he possessed now, there had been ladies who found his position agreeable, indeed.
Thus, Darcy’s subsequent anger at her blatant attempts to play the flirtatious miss with him was not so much because of her behavior as the upheavals and uncertainties he had endured these past weeks.
What happened after was not so much because of Miss Bingley’s actions as a combination of factors—Lady Catherine’s meddling, coupled with the long wait to have Elizabeth as a wife, and the frustration attendant upon the delay.
“This has been a most interesting conversation,” said Miss Bingley two hours later, after a long-winded discourse that had consisted almost entirely of her comments and Darcy’s noncommittal grunts.
“If you do not mind, I shall retire to my room for a brief rest, for yesterday’s travel has quite tired me. ”
While Miss Bingley offered him a coy smile that Darcy could not misunderstand, he allowed her to depart with little comment, certain that while she would have welcomed his request for her to stay, she had not meant to convey a desire that he would ask her to tour the gardens or other activities where she would have his full attention.
The moment she was out of the room, Bingley sighed and offered Darcy a rueful smile.
“You have my apologies, Darcy, for it appears Caroline is not so resigned as I might wish.”
“If you will forgive me, I had never suspected her of it.”
Bingley laughed at Darcy’s wry reply. “That is the truth. If you wish, I shall take her back to London and allow you a measure of peace until your wedding. I would not wish you to endure her for another week complete.”
The notion of another week’s wait was anathema to Darcy, and his thoughts formed in a moment. Darcy did not allow himself to consider it for an instant, instead choosing to act at once.
“You are correct, Bingley,” said he.
Darcy turned to his mother, who was watching them with interest. “This has gone on long enough, Mother. I shall retire to my chambers and change. If you, Georgiana, and Bingley will also change, we may depart for Longbourn at once.”
Georgiana gasped when she understood his meaning, even as his mother’s grin grew wider. “Are you proposing what I believe you are?”
“The marriage license is in my chambers, Mother. There is no restriction on when Elizabeth and I can marry.”
Mrs. Darcy laughed and rose, kissing his cheek. “No, but you must persuade Mrs. Bennet to go along with your mad scheme.”
“Leave that to me.”
“Very well,” said Mrs. Darcy
She extended a hand to Georgiana, who accepted, though not without astonishment, and the two ladies retreated from the room. Darcy did not even need to glance at Bingley to understand his friend’s delighted amusement at Darcy’s sudden determination.
“The only question, my friend, is whether I should alert Caroline to your impending nuptials.”
Darcy considered this. “Do you suppose she will wish to witness them?”
“Perhaps not,” agreed Bingley. “To leave her here by herself without a word. . . If you wish me to do so, I shall, but I am not comfortable with it.”
“Then you may put it to Miss Bingley,” said Darcy. “If she is willing, I have no objection to her presence. But she is not to do anything to disrupt our celebration.”
“Of course not,” agreed Bingley.
In the end, Miss Bingley opted against attending, much to Darcy’s relief. While he did not think she would be so crass as to say anything she should not, or even to stand up in the church to voice her objections, she must understand that she had pushed Darcy with her behavior that morning.
“I believe she was more resigned than anything,” reported Bingley when they were waiting for the ladies to rejoin them. “Caroline must have known there was little chance of persuading you, yet she could not quite allow the dream to die.”
“It is well that she saw sense,” replied Darcy.
“Bingley offered him an effervescent grin. “Perhaps it is now unnecessary to marry with such haste.”
“If it is haste,” replied a wry Darcy, “then I shudder to consider what it might be if we were to drag our heels. Elizabeth and I have been engaged for more than a year now.”
“Yes, I can well imagine your impatience.”
There was no reason to further comment on the subject, so Darcy turned his attention back to Bingley. “Your sister, Bingley—has she had any interest from any man of society?”
The exasperation in Bingley’s features was unmistakable. “There have been a few, for Caroline’s dowry is substantial and she is not without virtues. Caroline insists she is to marry in the first circles and will not consider a man who does not possess the standing she wishes to obtain.”
Darcy shook his head. “If you will pardon my saying it, those she would like to impress will not consider her, and the men who would marry her for her dowry have pressing reasons to push for a union they would otherwise not consider.”
“Well do I know it,” replied Bingley, shaking his head. “With this latest failure, I hope she will be more reasonable, though I cannot say that I expect it.”
Choosing his words carefully, Darcy said: “You know something of my disinclination for your sister’s society, Bingley, but if she will accept less than she desires, an association with Elizabeth and me may lead to increased opportunities for a marriage with a man of a certain level.”
“With your new standing,” agreed Bingley, “many would look on her association with you as a point in her favor.”
“Which will only improve her eligibility if you are serious about Miss Bennet.”
The dreamy look Bingley assumed at the mention of Darcy’s future sister was not at all unexpected, for it was so very much like Bingley. “That is yet uncertain, but I am not unwilling to deepen our acquaintance.”
“Then perhaps you should make this point with your sister when the opportunity presents itself. So long as Miss Bingley adheres to restraint, Elizabeth and I will associate with her.”
“Thank you, my friend,” said Bingley. “I am aware of your true feelings for her.”
To Darcy, it did not signify. “Not at all, Bingley. In accepting your sister into our circle of friends, it will help her in life, and it is no sacrifice on our part.”