“Miss Elizabeth?” asked William, his manner faintly demanding. “What did she say?”
“It was before you returned to the sitting-room,” replied Georgiana slowly, recalling the incident. “We had been talking about music. Miss Mary was distracted by something her mother said. I do not recall what exactly, but Miss Elizabeth made a comment that suggested she thought you disapproved of her.”
William gave the impression of being taken aback, though Georgiana could not understand what it meant. His displeasure the previous night had been marked—though William was often inscrutable, he had a habit of displaying his censure for all to see. No one in the room could have been unaware of it.
“Is something amiss?” asked Georgiana when he did not respond at once.
“I do not disapprove of Miss Elizabeth in particular,” replied William at length. “But thereisa matter between us at present.”
“Will you not share?”
With a sigh, William nodded. “You are aware that Bingley returned to Hertfordshire against his sisters’ wishes.”
“When you came to Hertfordshire, you were hoping to persuade him back to London,” said Georgiana. “Might I assume Miss Bingley’s concern has something to do with his attentions to Miss Bennet?”
“Perceptive,” murmured William.
“Not at all,” said Georgiana. “It makes sense, if you think about it. Miss Bingley intendsmeto fill the role of her brother’s future wife, and if she cannot convince me, then some other woman of society will do. Miss Bennet is not a woman of society—of course Miss Bingley would object to her.”
“You are correct. Miss Bingley not only does not approve of her brother’s interest in Miss Bennet, but she has no means of influencing him. Bingley is more likely to listen to me, which is why I came to Hertfordshire.”
“Why?” asked Georgiana. “Mr. Bingley is not the most forceful man—I have often observed that he gives in to his sister’s opinion.”
“That is because Bingley does not appreciate conflict. When he thinks himself in the right, he can be quite stubborn—Miss Bingley does not have so much influence as she believes she does.”
William paused, becoming uncomfortable. “More than this, however, Miss Bingley misled her brother, claiming Miss Bennet had told her in confidence that she did not welcome Bingley’s attention. Bingley discovered it and returned to Hertfordshire, forbidding his sister from coming here.”
“That was not well done, William,” said Georgiana, her distaste for Miss Bingley filling her breast with indignation. “Miss Bingley may disapprove, but her brother is his own man and may act as he sees fit. You know that I do not like Miss Bingley much—this only increases my distaste for her.”
“While I agree with you,” said William, “thereissome danger. Since I returned to Hertfordshire, I have learned that the Bennets mean to have Bingley by such stratagems as present themselves. The Bennets’ situation is not good, and the mother is a fortune hunter of uncommon persistence. If Bingley married Miss Bennet, that would remove the threat of genteel poverty.”
Georgiana could not believe what she was hearing. “I beg your pardon, Brother, but in suggesting the Bennets of dishonesty, you are insinuating that Miss Bennet does not care for Mr. Bingley.”
“Is it not obvious? Miss Bennet never shows a hint of affection for Bingley. If he marries her, it is his own choice, but since she cannot provide wealth or connections, she should at least have some affection for him.”
“Brother,” said Georgiana, “Miss Bennet’s affection for Mr. Bingley is unmistakable.”
“I apologize, Georgiana, but I cannot credit it. As I have been in Miss Bennet’s company far longer than you have, you must allow my understanding of her to be superior. Besides, Miss Elizabeth gave me reason to believe there were family designs.”
Though she considered refuting his claims, Georgiana decided against it for several reasons, not least that she doubted Bingley would heed him. Not only did she think it was impossible to convince him, but she doubted Mr. Bingley would listen to William regardless. Whether William would ever see Miss Bennet’s integrity for himself, she could not say, but the important part was that Mr. Bingley saw it. Should they stay for a time, she thought her brother would come to the right understanding. Until that time, there was little point in arguing with him.
Thus, Georgiana nodded and changed the subject. They had a pleasant time together until Mr. Bingley joined them for luncheon.
THERE WERE TIMES WHENKitty Bennet did not appreciate her younger sister. Lydia was a lot of fun, but she could be thoughtless and occasionally mean-spirited. She also tended to insist on her opinion or understanding of events at times, listening to no one, especially Kitty.
The morning after Mr. Bingley and his friends dined at Longbourn was a perfect example of this. As the day was fine, the two sisters had decided to walk to Meryton. It had been several days since they had been in the company of the officers, and Lydia was determined not to endure another instant without their society. The moment they arrived, it appeared that Lydia meant to spread the story of the previous night and her interpretation of events to anyone who would listen.
“Mr. Wickham!” exclaimed Lydia the moment they encountered the man on the street.
Mr. Wickham was with Denny and Sanderson, men with whom he was on familiar terms. They had not, Kitty reflected, seen Mr. Wickham since before the ball. Had Mr. Wickham paid her more attention than Lydia, Kitty might have been pleased to see him. As it was, she preferred Denny’s society.
“Miss Kitty, Miss Lydia,” said Mr. Wickham, bowing low and directing a winsome smile at them. “I am happy to see you this morning.”
“As we are to see you.” Lydia adopted a playful tone she often used with the officers and said: “How we are to forgive you, I do not know; you broke all our hearts when you neglected to come to the ball at Netherfield. How can you account for such willful disregard for our feelings?”
Mr. Wickham laughed as Lydia had intended. “Please accept my most abject apologies, Miss Lydia. It was, as I am certain Denny informed you, a most particular matter of business that took me to town and prevented my attendance.”
“Though it may not have been so particular if a certain gentleman had not been present,” jested Mr. Denny.
