Sunday 6 September 1812, Derbyshire
Bingley rose with the rest of the congregation, and since Darcy and Elizabeth had moved forward to speak to the rector, he offered Miss Darcy his arm and walked with her out of the church.
Their party numbered only four. Mrs Annesley, he was told, had gone to visit a friend. Jane and Caroline had both cried off altogether, the former claiming to be indisposed and the latter making no claims at all, only failing to appear downstairs in time to join them. Darcy had been in no humour to wait, and Bingley strongly suspected both his friend and his sister were still brooding over their exchange at dinner the previous evening.
He had little sympathy for Caroline. She really ought to have known better than to gainsay the Titan at his own table, but she would persist with her remarks on outmoded country town practices long after he decreed the matter of Elizabeth’s escapades closed to further discussion. Darcy’s rejoinder that Caroline would be well placed to learn some country town humility whilst staying at Netherfield had silenced the table for a full ten minutes afterwards.
His disinclination to discuss Elizabeth’s kindness towards the little tenant girl troubled Bingley greatly. It seemed Jane and Caroline had been correct. He disapproved of her conduct. In an attempt to allay his concerns, Bingley had ventured to make some discreet enquiries. They had brought him little in the way of encouragement. Caroline had vigorously averred that Darcy’s dissembling was due to shame.
“For what gentleman wishes to admit that his upstart wife has made an exhibition of herself and his marriage is a catastrophe?”
He had erred in broaching the matter with Jane. She had disliked his interest as much as he had disliked her answer.
“If Lizzy cared half so much about her husband’s happiness as you do about hers, she might give him less about which to be displeased!”
Least reassuring of all had been Elizabeth’s typically arch remark.
“Pray, take pity on him and allow him to forget the incident as soon as may be. He has suffered quite enough distress for one day as a consequence of my actions, and I daresay tomorrow will only bring more.”
“Mr Bingley?” Miss Darcy was regarding him expectantly.
“I do beg your pardon. My thoughts were elsewhere.”
“Not at all,” she assured him, too polite to enquire further.
“I say,” he said, “doyousuppose your brother was angry with Lizzy at dinner last night?”
She coloured deeply. “Oh! Well, I…goodness! I do not believe so but mayhap. It is difficult to tell sometimes because of their manner of talking to each other. Lizzy is excessively sportive with him.”
“And this he does not like?”
“He said he ought to have invited Mrs Gardiner to stay since she had more respect for him than Lizzy does.”
That Darcy required his wife’s respect, Bingley was well aware.
“Just this morning I heard her say that I am beneath you.”
“That is where I prefer to have you.”
He had not been supposed to hear that, of course, and a true gentleman would have forgotten it instantly. Yet, he could not forget how Elizabeth had dashed away with her hands covering her ashen face. What had his friend done? Married a woman whom he considered beneath him and doomed her to a life of disrespect and misery? Bingley’s anguish was too great for him to say more, and he walked on in silence. Would that he had offered for Elizabeth when he had the chance…
“ACHOOOOO!”
The unheralded and almighty sneeze made Miss Darcy shriek and Bingley near jump from his skin. They both whirled around.
“Upon my life, Darcy! Were you worried we would not notice you were there?”
“Oh my, I hope you have not taken a chill from riding out in the rain!” Miss Darcy fretted. “Would that you had stayed in the dry as Lizzy did!”
Darcy deigned to answer neither of them. Bingley stared in dismay as, instead, he turned to Elizabeth, who had been grinning broadly ’til that point, and said gravely, “Not a word from you, madam. Not one word.”
“I should not dare!” she replied, her beautiful eyes brimming with challenge.
Bingley turned away and climbed into the carriage, unable to watch. He could not reconcile the man whom he had, for many years, held in the highest regard with this one, who seemed content to forever look down upon his supposedly beloved wife. How long could Elizabeth’s wonderful, inimitable liveliness endure in the face of Darcy’s constant disapprobation? It was an unbearable situation—the worst of it being, there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
Netherfield
11thSeptember
