CHAPTER ONE
July 1812
Elizabeth Bennet took a solitary walk, crossing fields and springing over puddles on her way home to Netherfield. The cold, wet, disagreeable weather had stopped for the present, and she took advantage of the chance for exercise and to refresh her spirits. She had felt out of sorts since she returned from Hunsford; and not even the joyful events that happened since could do away with her shame regarding her blind and prejudiced behaviour towards Darcy and Wickham.
If my mother ceased visiting the new Mrs Bingley every day, if the weather ceased to be rainy and cold, and if I ceased to think of Darcy’s letter, how happy a summer I might have before me.
It had been a surprise to everyone when Bingley called at Longbourn the day after Elizabeth and Jane returned from London in May. His return could only have been Darcy’s doing. After writing his letter, he must have decided his observations of Jane were incorrect—that she was not indifferent to his friend—and confessed his part in keeping Bingley from Jane last winter.
Perhaps Darcy even assured Bingley that Jane returned hisaffections with sincere regard, or perhaps he merely told Bingley that he perceived thathisattachment was unabated. Either way, Bingley depended on his friend’s judgment, and Darcy had given his permission. Bingley was invited to dine at Longbourn, stayed to supper, and the next day Elizabeth had allowed Jane and Bingley to outstrip her during a walk, knowing full well what could happen.
Darcy may have reunited them, but his letter had expressed no regret for separating them in the first place. Elizabeth stomped up a stile and jumped down. His letter was not penitent, but haughty. He had corrected his error, but she could not think well of a man who wrote to her—who spoke to her—with such pride and insolence.
His sending Bingley to Hertfordshire was a stroke of generosity she had not thought him capable of, but his promoting Bingley and Jane’s marriage could not absolve him entirely.Was it not plain that Darcy had no regard for her if he could speak of her family in such a manner? She knew she had been weak and vain in regard to him, but that did not make him an amiable, civil man.
And whilst confessing his interference, did Darcy mention to Bingley our quarrel and his disastrous proposal?
In this perturbed state of mind, with thoughts that could rest on nothing, Elizabeth walked home. She had only called at Longbourn to pay her compliments to her parents and sisters. Mary could not be troubled to leave her instrument, Kitty had nothing at all to say, and Lydia still lamented not being allowed to follow the regiment to Brighton with Mrs Forster, although it had been nearly two months since the militia left.
“Lizzy!”
Bingley hallooed to her from atop his horse and came alongside her. “I see you are also making the most of this break in the rain.” He dismounted. “We shall walk the last quarter-mile together.”
When Jane and Bingley married, they had both insisted that she join their household. Jane wanted a female companion as she adjusted to her new position, and Bingley did not want Caroline to fill that role. Whilst he had forgiven his sisters for their contrivance and falsehood, Elizabeth suspected he knew that Jane could never be as dear to them as they once were to her.
“I meant to tell you congratulations on one month of marriage.”
“Thank you! After everything that happened—well, I am a happy man. Last winter, I could not have imagined that by the middle of July I would be one month married.”
It was no surprise to Elizabeth that the couple had returned from that walk engaged. Bingley’s conversation with her father had been short and to the purpose, and it was settled that the wedding would take place in a month. But after dinner that evening, the two men had stayed in the dining room a long time after the ladies withdrew, and both appeared more solemn when they emerged than one might have expected given the happy occasion.
Neither man would answer for it, but the change at Longbourn following that private conversation was remarkable. The militia officers were no longer welcomed in the house, and her mother was forbidden from hosting the officers for a farewell dinner. Her father, far from giving unequivocal and vague answers—as was his wont—plainly told her mother that they would not spend the summer in Brighton, that Lydia could not accept Mrs Forster’s invitation, and he was finished hearing about militia officers unless Napoleon himself landed on the coast. Elizabeth hadhad no luck convincing her father to speak of what caused such a change, but she hoped Bingley might say whilst they were alone.
“Did you make it as far as Longbourn?” Bingley interrupted her thoughts as Netherfield came into sight.
“I only stayed long enough to pay my compliments to my family. But my father teased that he had only consented to lose one daughter to you, not two, and still bade me to come home.”
Bingley laughed. “And here I believed that you were home now.”
“I feel as though I am.” Bingley had, in a short time, become a dear brother to her. He was a sweet-tempered man who loved Jane. How could a man who was good humour itself have a steady friendship with Darcy, unless Darcy was more amiable than she had credited him with being?I acteddespicably towards him.
“And how is your mother?”
She started and drew her thoughts from Darcy. “I daresay you will learn for yourself. Now that the rain has stopped, we can expect hersoon.” Bingley put on a face of practised patience. There was nothing Mrs Bennet liked better than to call on Mrs Bingley. “However, I did say that she ought not to call so early, so Jane will at least need not entertain her and her friends from breakfast to dinner.”
Bingley thanked her, and Elizabeth wondered how many more daily visits would he stand before he would begin to talk of giving his mother-in-law the hint that she not call so often. The house was now near, and if she was to ask her question, she ought to do it now.
“Would you answer something for me? I have been curious—before the militia left, they had been welcomed at Longbourn, but then once you were engaged to Jane, there was a change.”
Bingley stopped walking and busied himself with petting his horse. “It hardly matters. The militia is gone on to Brighton.”
“Yes, but throughout May they were not so much as allowed to enter the village, let alone the house. My father even forbade Lydia to join Colonel Forster’s wife in Brighton, and it would have been more comfortable for him to allow her to go. Charles”—she forced him to look at her—“I know it was your doing, but I cannot imagine what you said to cause such a change, or why.”
He pursed his lips before speaking. “You are too clever, Lizzy, and I hope you are not determined to press the subject.” He shook his head and said quietly, “He said you might ask.”
Her stomach turned over as she realised her suspicion had been correct. “What did Mr Darcy tell you about what happened in Kent?”
Bingley looked surprised. “How do you mean whathappened? Darcy only said that you told him Jane had been in town all winter.”
