Page 7 of What Comes Between Cousins

N EVER BEFORE HAD ELIZABETH fully appreciated her mother’s apparently adaptable nature, though, in her defense, she rationalized that her mother had never shown any hint of such abilities. Mrs. Bennet was essentially a simple soul. Gossip was her greatest joy, and while the subjects of her discussions with the neighborhood consisted of many things, inevitably her attention would turn back to her daughters. Of the five Bennet sisters, she could speak of with an unflagging zeal, and while her observations most often centered on her favorites—Jane and Lydia—she could boast of any of them without hesitation, regardless of the situation.

But in the days following the eldest sisters’ visit and subsequent stay at Netherfield, she truly proved herself to be versatile, though Elizabeth had not ever expected to be in the position to make such a claim about her mother. Mrs. Bennet’s first inclination, of course, was to pair either Jane or Lydia with Lord Chesterfield—whichever caught his fancy—leaving the other for Mr. Darcy, while Elizabeth was to capture Mr. Bingley. But she had surprised them all when she had accepted Jane’s preference for Mr. Bingley, shifting the pairings in her mind so that Lydia would capture the viscount, leaving Elizabeth for Mr. Darcy. And then things changed once again.

“How do you do, Miss Elizabeth?” asked the viscount one morning when the Netherfield party visited Longbourn. It was the morning after their return to Longbourn, and Elizabeth thought it remarkably civil of them to visit so soon after. The entire company had come, Mr. Darcy following his cousin into the room, with the Bingley party trailing behind.

“I am very well, Lord Chesterfield,” replied Elizabeth. “I am surprised to see you again so soon, sir. I had thought you and Mr. Darcy would likely be riding the grounds of Netherfield at all hours of the day. Or perhaps your penchant has led to walking, or perhaps there are too many birds on Mr. Bingley’s estate, and you have been thinning their ranks?”

Elizabeth could easily hear Mrs. Bennet’s strangled gasp at the sportive way in which she was speaking to the viscount, and the glare with which Miss Bingley favored her was not unnoticed. The man himself, however, laughed at her sally.

“Darcy and I did ride this morning, with Bingley in our company. For the present, however, the birds are safe from us.”

“I am certain they will be happy to hear it, Lord Chesterfield.”

They continued to speak in their sportive manner for some time, and Mr. Darcy, who was sitting nearby, joined in on occasion. Caroline’s countenance became even more sour, as the woman no doubt thought Elizabeth was hoarding the conversation of the two gentlemen for herself. It was not long before she was not able to hold her tongue any longer.

“I hope your family is all well, Eliza,” said she, her expression barely less than a sneer.

“We all have been quite well, Caroline,” replied Elizabeth, refusing to rise to the woman’s bait.

“And your extended family?” Caroline’s eyes darted to the viscount and her smile became smug. “I am sorry, but you never did inform me where your uncle actually lives. Is it quite close to Mr. Darcy’s house in Mayfair? Your aunt lives in Meryton, I understand.”

“Yes, on both accounts. And they are all well. If you are all still in residence at Netherfield at Christmas, you shall meet my Uncle Gardiner and his family, for they usually spend the holidays with us.”

“Your uncle is Mr. Gardiner?” asked Lord Chesterfield, his interest clear. “Mr. Edward Gardiner?”

“Yes, that is he,” replied Elizabeth, surprised. “Are you acquainted with him?”

“Not personally,” said Lord Chesterfield, “though he is quite well-known in town. Everyone with whom he is acquainted speaks of his business acumen and his manners, which I am told are sufficient for him to pass himself off as a gentleman.”

“I do not think it proper for anyone to portray themselves as inhabiting a station which they do not possess,” interjected Caroline.

Elizabeth goggled at the woman as if she had just stated that the moon was naught but a bit of dust in the sky, wondering at her hypocrisy. “It is interesting to hear you say that, Caroline. But I assure you that my uncle does not attempt to be taken for anything other than what he is. Much like your brother, it is his ultimate goal to purchase an estate and join the ranks of the landed.”

“How fortunate for him.”

The woman’s tone was enough to set Elizabeth’s teeth to grinding, but she was able to control her temper and refrain from snapping at her. Instead, Elizabeth contented herself with a stiffly spoken: “I fully agree with you, Caroline. One should definitely be required to portray themselves with honesty to all and sundry. Why, daughters of tradesmen might think themselves above those descended of gentlemen should that rule not be applied.”

Caroline’s eyes glittered at the insult—whatever the woman was, she was not senseless, and Elizabeth was certain Caroline had understood the thrust of her words quite well, indeed.

“If your uncle is to attend you,” said Lord Chesterfield at that moment, breaking the tension between the two women, “then I would be happy for an invitation. He seems like a man well worth knowing.”

“I certainly shall not dispute that, Lord Chesterfield,” replied Elizabeth. “My uncle is a fine man—he and his wife are among the best people I know.”

Their conversation wended on from there, and Elizabeth was grateful that Caroline fell silent, contenting herself with glaring while Elizabeth spoke with the two gentlemen. Lord Chesterfield proved himself to be a true gentleman, for he forwarded the conversation past Caroline’s ill-temper and taunts, while Mr. Darcy performed equally well, ignoring the woman completely.

As they spoke, Elizabeth found herself wondering at the difference between the two men, the objectionable person of Caroline Bingley shunted to the back of her mind. The viscount seemed intent upon paying attention to her, and Mr. Darcy—with the possible exception of Mr. Bingley—seemed to be more comfortable in his cousin’s company than anyone else in the room.

The viscount’s words were playful and amiable, and at times Elizabeth wondered if they strayed into territory which might be better referred to as flirting. But Elizabeth had seen enough of him to know that it was nothing more than the man’s usual manners. In short, Elizabeth did not think he meant anything by it, and she certainly had no notion that he had any true interest in her.

By contrast, Mr. Darcy did not indulge in flirtatious comments or exaggerated statements designed to flatter. Whatever he said was done with a gravity she had associated with him since the earliest days of their acquaintance. She was not certain what it was, but she began to realize that she preferred Mr. Darcy’s company, though it was strange that she should. Lord Chesterfield was, after all, like Elizabeth herself in character and manners.

It was while they were engaged speaking that the change in Mrs. Bennet was made manifest. Elizabeth had noted her mother watching her speaking with the gentlemen, though Mrs. Bennet’s attention had also been on where Mr. Bingley and Jane had been speaking in quiet voices. Unfortunately, her mother could not suppress her improper streak for long enough to suit Elizabeth.

“Mr. Darcy!” said she suddenly, drawing the eyes of most of the company to her. “Perhaps you would prefer to see the back gardens of Longbourn? Though it is not as pretty as it will be in the summer, I dare say it is a sight well worth seeing. I am certain our Lydia would be happy to accompany you.”

Miss Bingley’s smile immediately became predatory, and she said: “Yes, Mr. Darcy. I am certain you will get on famously with Miss Lydia Bennet.”

“It is too cold for walking in the garden, Mama,” complained Lydia.

“In this instance, I believe I must agree with your daughter, Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy, apparently relieved to have been granted a reprieve. “The air is far too chilly to be out of doors.”

Though seeming disappointed, Mrs. Bennet was by no means defeated. “Then you should sit here where you may speak much more easily.”

Mr. Darcy appeared less eager to do anything than sit next to Lydia, but he seemed to sense there was no graceful way to demur, and he moved to the indicated seat, though not without reluctance. Elizabeth watched them, annoyed with her mother for showing the Bennet family to have little sense, but as Mary was seated near Lydia, she stepped in and began conversing with Mr. Darcy. The man himself appeared grateful, and he spoke with her, showing perfect composure, if not perfect comfort. For her part, Lydia continued to speak and giggle with Kitty. Mrs. Bennet only watched over them, her expression smug, seeming not to realize that Lydia and Mr. Darcy were not falling in with her grand designs.

“I sense, Miss Elizabeth,” said Lord Chesterfield softly, “that your mother fancies herself to be something of a matchmaker.”

Elizabeth turned and grinned at the viscount. “You have no idea, my lord. It is unfortunate for her that her daughters often have little appreciation for her efforts.”

“Oh?” asked the viscount. “Is that so? I must own I am surprised, for my cousin has been a prime catch on the marriage market since he inherited his estate five years ago. Does your sister believe she can do better?”

Had the jest not been evident in the man’s smile, Elizabeth might have thought he was being severe upon them all. As it was, Elizabeth grinned back at him and replied:

“That presupposes that the only consideration for any Bennet daughter is nothing more than a man’s standing in society, and the extent of his holdings, of course.”

“And what is the going rate for a Bennet girl, then?”

Elizabeth made a great show of thinking for a moment. “It depends upon the daughter in question,” said she at length. “Jane and I are determined to marry for love and affection, while Mary is much like us, though perhaps a little more practical. As for Kitty and Lydia, they have stated their preference for the color red many times in recent weeks.” Elizabeth looked at the viscount critically. “While your current jacket is not red, I am told you have worn one in the past. Perhaps you would do for our Lydia, should you only revert to your former habits.”

Lord Chesterfield guffawed, but Caroline, who had been following their conversation closely only huffed and speared Elizabeth with a glare. “I suppose I must not be surprised that your family is so narrow-minded. A militia officer, indeed! I know not how to account for such inanity!”

“I believe, Miss Bingley,” said Lord Chesterfield, “that Miss Elizabeth was making a jest at my expense. And quite well done, I should think.

“But if you would excuse me, Miss Elizabeth, I believe I will decline and continue with the current color of my jacket. Miss Lydia is, of course, an estimable lady, but she is yet full young and not ready for such weighty subjects as marriage. And, she is naught but half my age.”

“Then I shall inform her, Lord Chesterfield,” said Elizabeth, displaying a disheartened sigh for his benefit. “She will recover, I am sure, and go on to break many more hearts before she is finally induced to give up her single state sometime in the future.”

“I am sure she shall,” replied Lord Chesterfield. At the same time, Caroline let out another offended huff. At least the woman had the sense to remain silent.

When the Netherfield party left some time later, the Bennets accompanied them to the door to farewell them. While Elizabeth was happy to have such interesting visitors, she was relieved when they had left, for she was not certain she could bear the mortification of her mother’s blatant scheming any longer. It was unfortunate, therefore, that Mrs. Bennet was not finished with them.

“I must apologize to you, Elizabeth, for ever doubting you.”

Confused, Elizabeth gaped at her mother, saying: “I have not the pleasure of understanding you, Mama.”

Mrs. Bennet clucked and led Elizabeth back to the sofa. “Your cleverness, of course. I thought it would always inhibit you from attracting a good man for a husband, but it appears I was incorrect.”

A snort distracted Elizabeth, and she turned to see her father regarding them with open amusement. He had been present during the visit of the Netherfield party, but he had not spoken, for the most part, only sharing a few words with Mr. Darcy and Lord Chesterfield. Elizabeth glared at him, but he only grinned and waved her back to her mother.

“But now it is clear to me,” continued her mother. “You have used your cleverness to attract the attention of Lord Chesterfield, and I have no doubt that his attentions are fixed on you, given what I was witness to in this very room. I had thought he would prefer Jane, of course, but with Mr. Bingley’s quick actions in capturing our Jane’s affections, I suppose he was forced to look elsewhere. How clever of you to have caught his eye!”

“I do not think it happened quite that way, Mama,” said Elizabeth, feeling quite faint. “His lordship is only being polite.”

“I am sure he is, my dear,” replied Mrs. Bennet, patting Elizabeth’s knee. “Now we have only to nurture that spark of interest Mr. Darcy displays in Lydia, and our family’s fortunes shall be on the rise!”

A chuckle and a shake of his head preceded Mr. Bennet’s announcement that he would retire to his bookroom, leaving Elizabeth at the mercy of her mother. She glared at his retreating back, but then her mother pulled all the girls back into her scheming. It was many minutes before Elizabeth was able to escape to her room. If her mother’s blindness was not so amusing, Elizabeth might have felt put out!

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T HERE HAD BEEN TIMES when their visit to Longbourn had taken on the aspect of a spectacle, but Darcy found himself strangely unmoved by the family’s eccentricities. They were not so different from some of the families of lower standing in the neighborhood in which he himself lived, and though the attention was irksome at times, as was the blatant matchmaking, there was no true harm in any of them. Mrs. Bennet was difficult to endure, but Darcy chose to see the love and concern for her children, rather than avaricious greed.

Fitzwilliam was likewise unmoved by some of the foibles to which they were witness, and he was not shy about stating his approbation. Fortunately, he chose to do so later that afternoon when they were not in company with Miss Bingley. Darcy shuddered to think of what the woman would say if she heard the Bennets—and in particular, Miss Elizabeth—referred to in such glowing terms.

“In short,” Fitzwilliam was saying, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet is a gem, a rough one to be certain, having been raised in the hinterlands of the kingdom by a woman who possesses little sense. But even if it is for nothing more than her success in raising her most enchanting daughter, I must esteem Mrs. Bennet.”

“I suspect that Miss Elizabeth’s character might be more the influence of her father than her mother,” replied Darcy. “They seem to think much alike, though Mr. Bennet is taciturn. Miss Elizabeth is anything but.”

“Aye, you might be correct.” Fitzwilliam stroked his chin. “She certainly inherited her intelligence from Mr. Bennet. In fact, it seems to me the only girls who inherited anything other than their looks from Mrs. Bennet are Miss Lydia and, perhaps, Miss Kitty.”

Darcy allowed it to be so, but he did not say anything further. Fitzwilliam was more than ready to fill the void.

“Regardless, Miss Elizabeth is truly the brightest star among the Bennet sisters. I must own to some surprise that there are no men beating a path to Longbourn’s door for the privilege of being admitted to her presence.”

“You forget that Longbourn is a small estate and Miss Elizabeth likely does not possess a large dowry. Her person is enough to tempt many a man, but her situation is likely what keeps them away.”

Fitzwilliam turned a critical eye on Darcy. “Is that the infamous Darcy pride speaking?”

“No,” replied Darcy, deciding it was not worth his cousin’s teasing to correct him. “It is merely the realist. As you know, I think highly of Miss Elizabeth. But there are many men who would not consider her even for an instant due to the drawbacks of paying attention to her.”

“Well, I am not such a one,” declared Fitzwilliam. “She is as fine a woman as I have ever met. Any man would be fortunate to receive her favor in response.”

Darcy was surprised. His cousin had given her his attention, but Darcy had thought it was nothing more than his typical playful and amiable nature at work. “Are you speaking of anything more than simple praise?”

“At the present, I know not,” replied Fitzwilliam. “She is a gem—that much is certain. But how would she fit into the role of a countess? That is a question I cannot answer at present.”

“I am sure she would take to it with aplomb,” replied Darcy, surprising himself by meaning every word he said. “In fact, I imagine Miss Elizabeth could do whatever she wished without any hesitation at all.”

Fitzwilliam grunted and fell silent, and Darcy was too caught up in his own thoughts to forward the conversation.

It was not to be supposed after witnessing Fitzwilliam’s blatant interest in Miss Elizabeth that Miss Bingley would allow the matter to rest. The woman had invested several years of effort into the pursuit of Darcy himself. Her focus may have shifted to his cousin, but the tenacity with which she had applied herself to it suggested that she would not easily concede defeat when it came to the bigger prize.

“Oh, Lord Chesterfield,” cried she when they entered the dining room for dinner, “I must commend you for enduring Eliza’s impertinence during our visit today. It is the hallmark of a good and indulgent man to allow a young woman, inexperienced in higher society, to rattle on as she did.”

“I did nothing more than any other man might have, Miss Bingley,” said Fitzwilliam. “I find her to be quite enchanting.”

Though the lines around Miss Bingley’s eyes tightened, she found a new target for her witticisms.

“And you, Mr. Darcy. Shall we be wishing you joy with your own Bennet sister? If you should fall in with Mrs. Bennet’s schemes, though, you may wish to house dear Georgiana in a different location from Lydia Darcy. I am not certain she would be the best influence on your dear sister.”

“Miss Lydia is a lovely girl,” said Fitzwilliam, joining in the teasing. “I am not certain, however, that Miss Lydia would have such a detrimental effect on our dearest girl. Georgiana could do with a little liveliness, after all.”

For a moment, Darcy thought of reciprocating by teasing Fitzwilliam about Miss Elizabeth, but the very thought filled him with repugnance. Thus, he decided to simply parry their remarks, at least until he was able to determine the state of his own feelings.

“Miss Lydia is a vibrant girl, indeed, but I do not think she is for me.” Darcy paused and considered the matter, before saying: “I have nothing against a lively girl, but I think one of a little more experience and restraint would be my preference.”

Fitzwilliam directed an odd look at Darcy, but Miss Bingley only exclaimed: “Poor Mrs. Bennet! I am certain you are breaking her heart, Mr. Darcy.”

Again, Darcy decided against speaking, and he was relieved when he had no need to do so, for Miss Bingley turned her attention back to Fitzwilliam. Not for the first time since arriving at Netherfield, Darcy was grateful for Fitzwilliam’s presence. Since he was the higher placed in society, it was his duty to escort Miss Bingley—the hostess—into dinner. Consequently, withstanding the woman’s attentions by her side at the dinner table was also his cross to bear.

Their conversation wound on, and Darcy was amused to see that Fitzwilliam, though he was not precisely baiting the woman, was paying her far more attention than Darcy might ever have considered doing. If Miss Bingley’s self-satisfied smiles were anything to go by, the woman likely thought she was making progress in her quest to capture him.

If she did, she was a fool. Fitzwilliam would no more marry Miss Bingley than Darcy would marry Miss Lydia. But Darcy had more pleasant things on which to think, so he left them to it.

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“T HE SITUATION IS WORSENING , Louisa. I simply must have your assistance in preventing Charles from making a catastrophic mistake.”

Louisa sighed. She had been hoping she would be able to avoid Caroline’s vitriol this evening. But it was not to be, as her younger sister had invaded her room before Louisa had been able to make her escape.

With a suspicious look, Caroline sat on a nearby chair. “Are you actually supportive of this madness? Is that why you are resisting me?”

“My support or lack thereof is irrelevant in the end, Caroline,” replied Louisa, massaging her temples. “As I said before, Charles will do as he pleases, and I do not think there is anything you or I can do about it.”

Though Louisa would have expected otherwise, Caroline did not respond. She seemed to be thinking of what Louisa had said. It had happened little enough in the past that Louisa was surprised by it.

“Charles is stubborn,” replied Caroline. “We will be required to recruit Lord Chesterfield and Mr. Darcy to assist.”

This time Louisa did respond, and the snort which made its way through her lips caused Caroline’s ire to be raised. But Louisa did not care.

“You have seen both men in company with the Bennets, have you not? I doubt we can induce them to say anything against Jane—certainly not the viscount, whose attention seems to be fixed on Elizabeth.” Louisa paused, wondering if she should have said that, and then turned a critical look on her sister. “In fact, I am surprised you are not here trying to determine how to induce the viscount to release his interest.”

Caroline huffed. “Lord Chesterfield is much more discerning than to lose his head over an impertinent chit such as Eliza Bennet. I have no doubt I shall be victorious there. But while my victory is the most important, I will not allow the Bennets any triumph, if I can prevent it.”

While she thought to inform Caroline that there was little she could do to prevent anything, Caroline rose at that moment and barked out one last imperious command: “Think on it, Louisa. I am counting on you to assist. Do not betray our father’s memory by allowing our brother to drag our name down into the mud.”

And then she was gone. Louisa, disgusted at her sister’s airs, took the opportunity to retreat to her husband’s room, where she was relieved to climb into bed. As usual, Hurst seemed to realize when she had received a visit from Caroline, and when Louisa explained it, his response was much as hers had been.

“I would wish your sister luck, but though I would appreciate it if she was in her own home, I cannot wish such a calamity on the heads of either Darcy or Chesterfield. But she has little chance of being successful. If Bingley wishes Jane Bennet for a wife, he will have her, and neither of the cousins has any intention of being captured by her.”

“I know,” replied Louisa with a sigh. “I just wish I could knock some sense into her.”

“That also would require great fortune.” Hurst turned over and settle himself into the mattress, but before he fell silent, he spoke once again. “As for the viscount, I doubt he is having as much of an impression on Miss Elizabeth as your sister fears. I would put my money on Darcy if anyone.”

“Mr. Darcy?” asked Louisa, surprised.

“Yes. He is not demonstrative, but he thinks as much of Miss Elizabeth as his cousin. More, in fact.”

Hurst fell silent, leaving Louisa to her thoughts. She was not certain of what her husband was speaking, but she decided to keep a close watch on them. Miss Elizabeth marrying Mr. Darcy would not impact Caroline’s plans for the viscount, but she would certainly not wish for a woman she considered inferior to marry a man she spent years chasing. Louisa sighed with frustration—it would be so much easier had she been blessed with a sister of a complying temperament like her brother’s.