Page 23 of The Talented Daughters of Longbourn

Longbourn

The Next Morning

“Mr. Bingley,” the butler announced. Bingley, his heart hammering in his chest, stepped forward and bowed to Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Lydia, who were all engaged in something that involved cloth and needles and thread. He was too nervous to grasp specific details.

“Good morning, ladies,” he said, hoping that his smile did not look as sickly as he felt.

“Mr. Bingley,” Miss Bennet replied kindly. “I hope you are well today? You find us quite busy, I fear.”

“Erm, yes, that is,” he stuttered, which succeeded in drawing a surprised look from the elder two Misses Bennet and a giggle from Miss Lydia.

He tried again. “Miss Bennet, might I have the honor of a private moment with you?”

He watched his beloved’s eyes widen with understanding, and Lydia released another giggle, which was promptly stifled when Elizabeth shot the girl a disapproving look.

Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth then exchanged glances, and the eldest Miss Bennet nodded.

Elizabeth stood up, hauled her youngest sister to her feet, and said, “Of course. I will leave the door open a few inches for propriety’s sake. ”

“Thank you!” Bingley said. He gazed raptly at Miss Bennet, who had set aside her work and risen to her feet, and he wondered what thoughts were going through the lady’s head. She looked calm and resolute and, as always, incredibly beautiful.

“Miss Bennet,” he said as soon as they were alone, “I do hope that my coming here is not too much of an intrusion. I know with your father so ill – well, perhaps I should have waited, but…”

He trailed off and gazed at her hopefully, but she merely looked back at him; there was no sign of anger, but neither was there any indication of enthusiasm.

“I have never felt like this before,” he said suddenly. “I have never met a lady like you, with such a vibrant combination of charm, beauty, and grace. I wish to tell you that I love and adore you, and if you return my feelings, well … Miss Bennet, would you accept my hand in marriage?”

He stared at her eagerly and then his heart sank within him; she had not yet said a word, but he already knew what her answer would be.

“Please do sit down,” the lady said .

He did so, miserably, and Miss Bennet sat down as well, smoothed her skirt, and lifted her blue eyes to meet his own.

“Mr. Bingley,” she said gently, “I am very grateful for your offer. You are a good man, and I am truly honored by your esteem. Nonetheless, I must refuse you. I do not believe we are a good match.”

Bingley swallowed hard and strove to remain calm. He had considered that he might be rejected; Miss Bennet was exquisitely beautiful and a gentleman’s daughter, after all, and he had little enough to recommend himself except his fortune.

“Thank you for your kind words,” he said after he had gathered himself sufficiently to speak steadily. “I know that we have not known one another long, and therefore I was almost certainly too hasty. I was merely afraid that, well, your father is failing. I thought it best not to wait.”

She nodded with understanding. “That was kind of you, sir. Indeed, if I were in love with you, I would be eager to marry you before going into mourning. But I fear I am not. I wish you the greatest happiness, sir, and given your character and situation in life, I am confident you will one day find a lady who is entirely compatible.”

He stared at her longingly; now that he had been refused, she seemed even more lovely, more entrancing, more enticing, than before .

“I expect that we will be neighbors for some time, Miss Bennet,” he said softly. “Is there any chance that with more time in company, your feelings towards me might change?”

Jane peered at him and shook her head. “I think not. As I said, I do not believe we are well suited.”

“I do not wish to be forward at all, but may I ask why? Is there some aspect of my character that you find distasteful?”

Jane hesitated, and her nose crinkled slightly. “If I did, I would not be inclined to share it, for everyone is different, are they not? What might not appeal to me would be delightful to another lady.”

Bingley bit his lip and said, “I gather from your tone that there is something amiss with my character. Please tell me. I wish to know.”

Jane sighed and said, “The truth is that you are rather too easygoing for my tastes. Again, there are many women who long for a biddable husband. I find it exasperating that you are disinclined to rein in Miss Bingley, and you are also far too disposed to visit neighbors and attend dances than oversee the servants and tenants of Netherfield Park.”

“Caroline?” he asked, focusing on the first criticism. “I apologize, but what is wrong with my younger sister? ”

“She is very rude to those she considers beneath her station in life, which is, in truth, rather ironic, as the Bennets have been gentry for far longer than the Bingleys. You and I both heard her mocking my sister, Elizabeth, in the shrubbery, but I doubt you took her to task for insulting my sister, harassing Mr. Darcy, or ridiculing me for not speaking French or drawing or playing the pianoforte.”

Bingley flushed bright red at these words and found himself lowering his gaze to stare at the blue and green carpet. “I … I do apologize,” he mumbled. “I am not fond of arguments and the like, and I am not inclined to interfere when…”

“When Miss Bingley, who is the strongest willed of all of you siblings, runs riot,” Jane finished for him, rising to her feet and shaking out her dress.

“I understand, Mr. Bingley. I do. Many ladies will not care, but I am very protective of my sisters, and will not wed a man who allows his relations to treat others so unkindly. Again, I am most grateful for your offer and consider you a fine person, but I have business I must do. Our butler will see you out.”

Bingley stood up in a daze and bowed mechanically.

He paused for a moment, gazing into that lovely face, and said, “I appreciate your honesty, and I do hope that if anyone in your house needs assistance in any way … well, I want you to know that I wish to be a good neighbor, even if I cannot be your husband.”

He was rewarded with an approving smile, and Jane said, “Thank you, Mr. Bingley. I will inform my uncle of your neighborly offer.”

/

Longbourn

A Few Hours Later

Charlotte rested one hand beneath her burgeoning stomach, easing some of its weight for a moment, with Samuel hanging fretful and peevish from her other hand.

She looked down at him, too weary to summon a smile, but kept her voice gentle as she said, “See, baby, we have arrived, and now we may refresh ourselves, and you may rest.”

The butler opened the door, and she stepped inside, footmen exiting behind her to retrieve the luggage. The nursemaid walked forward and lifted Samuel in her arms. “I’ll put him down for a nap now, madam,” she said reassuringly .

“Thank you, Maggie,” Charlotte said with a wan smile. She kissed her son’s downy head and followed the butler to the drawing room.

The ladies seated there rose to meet her, and Elizabeth hurried forward to carefully embrace her aunt. “Charlotte! How well you look!”

Charlotte breathed a laugh. “That is kind of you, Eliza,” she returned wearily.

“I am sure you are tired,” Jane said sympathetically, stepping up. “Do sit down and have a cup of tea.”

“I am sorry Mamma is not here,” Lydia interjected as Charlotte eased her seven-months-pregnant self down onto the loveseat. “She is in Meryton today seeing the baker about a cake for Mary’s wedding breakfast.”

Charlotte frowned and lowered her cup. “Understandable, I suppose, but does she not wish to stay near to her husband?”

Her nieces sighed as one.

“She does not – will not – believe that Father is truly dying,” Jane explained unhappily. “She went into hysterics when Elizabeth told her. I confess that we all prefer her denial to her screaming. ”

“How difficult for you,” Charlotte murmured pensively as Lydia handed her a biscuit.

“Well, her absence here today saves us from having to tell her that Jane turned down Mr. Bingley,” the young girl said with relentless optimism. “She would be most displeased if she were to find out.”

Charlotte’s brows lifted as she looked at her eldest niece. “You refused him, Jane?”

“Yes,” Jane said firmly, lowering her own cup to its saucer in her lap. “He is pleasant enough in temperament, but he is too indolent as far as managing his sisters and his estate.”

“He is very eligible,” Charlotte remarked dubiously.

“I have a sufficiency of income from my sculptures and wood carvings such that I do not need to leap into marriage with a wealthy man on no better grounds than that,” Jane responded unyieldingly.

“That is, of course, quite true,” Charlotte agreed.

The door opened again, and Mr. Josiah Bennet entered, having returned from the business that had taken him out onto the estate. Charlotte stood at once, pressing hard on the arm of the loveseat in order to get herself fully upright, and came forward to embrace him.

After a moment, Josiah stepped back. “I saw your mother and sister coming up the drive,” he began, but he was interrupted by the door opening once more.

“Lady and Maria Lucas,” the butler announced ponderously, as two more women entered the drawing room.

“Mamma!” Charlotte exclaimed, hurrying to embrace her mother. “It is so good to see you!”

“My dear daughter, it is wonderful to see you too,” Lady Lucas replied, and her eyes were brimming with tears. “You look very well!”

“I look like a whale!” her daughter replied, which provoked a chuckle from her nieces.

“That is to be expected,” Lady Lucas said with a broad smile. “Now where is dear little Samuel?”

“I hope that he is asleep,” Charlotte answered. “I assumed he would nap in the carriage, but the view out of the windows was far too enticing to permit such a thing. He was irritable and yawning by the time we arrived, and Maggie promptly put him down in his cot.”

“I look forward to seeing the little one later,” her mother replied, and then she turned a solicitous gaze on the Bennet ladies.

“My dears, while I am delighted to see my daughter, son-in-law, and grandson, I am grieved at the reason for their abrupt arrival. I had no idea that Mr. Bennet was so very ill.”

Elizabeth blew out a breath to control her emotions and said, “My mother has been unwilling to accept what is happening. Indeed, we all hoped that my father would improve, but it seems quite clear...”

She stopped, her throat clogged with emotion, and Lady Lucas hurried forward to embrace her. “My dear Elizabeth, I know that you have long been your father’s favorite, and I have no doubt that you are grieving most of all. I am so sorry.”

Elizabeth returned the embrace with gratitude.

How she wished that her own mother could provide such comfort, but alas, that was not a reasonable hope.

Mrs. Bennet was, at heart, a silly woman, and often a selfish one as well.

Her refusal to acknowledge the reality of her husband’s situation meant that her own daughters were forced to carry a painfully heavy load.