He repeated his negative but then felt compelled by her disappointed expression to say something more obliging. “This is a delightful room. I do not believe I have seen it before.”
“Thank you. My mother likes to keep it for special occasions.” She stopped, looking as mortified as he felt by the allusion to everybody’s expectations.
Her blush, he could not help but notice, spread down her neck and beyond, drawing his attention with it. He was quite sure he had never seen her wear that gown before; it looked remarkably well on her. “I see,” he said distractedly. “I wonder that she was good enough to let us use it then.”
Jane let out a little gasp.
Bingley made a silent imprecation. He had not meant to announceso bluntly what his intentions were not. He had not the time to apologise, for Miss Bennet unexpectedly swooned towards him. He threw his arms out to catch her but was unbalanced and fell heavily on the nearest sofa with her somehow sprawled, supine, across his lap.
He was instantly returned to a fortnight earlier when it had been Elizabeth he held lifeless in his arms. There his mind lingered, for with her head reclined thus, both of Miss Bennet’s eyebrows were arched, her cheekbones were accentuated and her lips slightly parted—and she looked more like her sister than ever.
Had not she looked so much the picture of the woman he wished he were embracing, he would likely never have remained bent over her as long as he did. Then, she would never have observed him looking at her in such a manner when her eyes fluttered open, might never have mistaken his ardour as meant for her, and might never have been emboldened to lift her head and kiss him. Had not he been consumed with unfulfilled yearning for Elizabeth, he might have pulled away sooner.
He registered the click and creak of the door too late and was still engaged thusly when Mrs Bennet’s shriek fractured the quiet of the room, followed immediately by Mr Bennet’s voice.
“And there my money was on Mary.”
Bingley almost tipped Miss Bennet to the floor in his haste to detach himself.
“Young love, eh?”
His stomach sank, for he knew that voice. Sir William, of all people, had observed his transgression!
“I always knew how it would be!” Mrs Bennet all but sang.
Bingley turned to face his audience and froze. Elizabeth! Her expression was one of pure surprise, sending remorse knifing through his gut. His mind turned over, searching desperately for a way to explain, to apologise, to salvage what had meant to be their union.
“Capital! Capital!” Sir William went on. “What congratulations will now flow in!”
“Indeed,” said Mr Bennet coldly. “I may be forced to overlook the prematurity ofyourcelebrations, Mr Bingley, once those of my neighbours begin.” He glanced meaningfully at Sir William.
Bingley broke into a sweat. Mr Bennet was correct. Between Sir William and Mrs Bennet, news of his amorous clinch and presumedbetrothal would be all over Meryton before supper. How could the alliance possibly be avoided? He looked at Elizabeth in desperation.
“I am very happy for you both,” said she.
Bingley almost whimpered. She was utterly lost to him. He briefly considered running from the house and not coming back, but the notion only made his despair greater, for he could not countenance the prospect of never seeing her again. Then she smiled, and the matter was settled. He could not leave her. Yet, if he stayed, he must marry her sister.
He turned to Miss Bennet. She returned his look with a tentative smile, seeming better pleased with the turn of events than he, which was rather too little relief too late, for he had come to doubt whether she welcomed his attentions at all. Louisa was correct, however. She was decorous and sweet and uncommonly pretty. A union with her could hardly be considered a punishment.
He looked back at Mr Bennet. “My apologies, sir. I meant to come to you directly of course.”
Mr Bennet grunted. “I shall await you in my library. Jane, I shall speak to you afterwards.” Without further word, he turned on his heel and left.
Miss Bennet rose hastily from the sofa and came to stand before Bingley. “I beg you, take no offence. I am sure he will be happy for us once the surprise passes.”
“He has every right to be angry. It was ill done.”
“I daresay there are worse ways of declaring oneself,” she whispered shyly.
Bingley refrained from actually kicking himself. Surely to God, there wasnoworse way to declare oneself than to do it to the wrong woman! “You are quite sure this is what you wish?” he enquired quietly. Her expression of heartfelt delight as she nodded her acceptance rendered her even more handsome than usual, vaguely disposing him to be more hopeful. “And are you well? You swooned very suddenly. Shall I send for Mr Oates?”
“Pray do not! I should be mortified. I was only a little too warm.”
“As you wish. I ought to go to your father now.”
She stepped away from him and was immediately engulfed in her mother and Sir William’s rapturous celebrations. Elizabeth came to Bingley, shaking his hands with cordiality he did not deserve.
“You have been very good to me these past few weeks. I could not have wished for a better brother or a better husband for Jane.”
