Page 56 of Conundrums & Coincidences

“It really was quite a coincidence to see her there because I was also in her delightful company two months ago while visiting Lady Catherine de Bourgh in Kent. Can you not guess, madam? The young lady with fine eyes has a cousin who happens to hold my aunt’s living at Hunsford.”

The clang of a Sheffield knife hitting Spode porcelain preceded Miss Bingley’s outcry. “No! You cannot mean Miss Bennet!”

From between Hadley and Miss Darcy, Bingley startled and said, “What is this about Miss Bennet?” He looked round the table for an answer. “What have I missed? Of which one do you speak? The eldest? Is Miss Jane Bennet well? Is she not at Longbourn?”

“Oh, Charles,” hissed Mrs Hurst, “do be quiet and let Mr Darcy answer.”

The table went silent but only because the second course was about to be served.

Peering round the epergne, Hadley said, “Are you also acquainted with the charming and delightful Miss Bennet, Caroline?”

“Of which Miss Bennet do you speak?” Bingley stood, all the better to have his voice heard and to glare at his sister across the epergne. “There are five Miss Bennets.”

“Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” said Hadley. “The heiress.”

Face drained of all colour, Miss Bingley flinched. “What do you mean ‘heiress’, David? We cannot be speaking of the same Elizabeth Bennet if the one you know is an heiress. The young woman with whom we are acquainted is an impertinent Hertfordshire country chit with a laughable dowry of one thousand pounds, a vulgar family, and relations in trade.”

Georgiana spoke up. “I, too, have met Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and she is perfectly charming.” She gave her brother a pointed look. “I pray she and I may become, at the very least, the best of friends before long.”

It was the most Darcy had heard his sister utter in public since Ramsgate, and he was proud of her. He also was well pleased she and Elizabeth were fond of one another.

Not bothering to lower her voice, Miss Grantley turned to her left. “Caroline, what was the name of the poor young lady deeply in love with your brother? Was she not a Bennet?” Evidently not the brightest candle in the chandelier, she added, “Remember? You separated them by tricking her into believing your brother has an understand with Miss Da⁠—”

“This ham is not to my liking.” Miss Bingley’s face had turned from ashen to red. Beckoning a footman, she demanded that the third course be served.

Ears hot, Darcy lowered his fork and looked round the table. No one but Hurst, not even Miss Bingley herself, had sampled a second course dish, nor, to his relief, had anyone accused him of conspiracy. But…another course? She certainly is trying to impress someone. In all likelihood that someone is me.

While Hurst made a grab for a meat pie, the epergne and untouched dishes were being removed, and new dishes—of pigeon pie, prawn, and crab, garden crops galore, and sauces for everything—began to appear on the table. Where the centrepiece had been, a mound of quivering, sugary-white jelly moulded into the shape of a temple was set down.

At opposite ends and corners of the table, Darcy and his sister mouthed a word at one another and exchanged grins.

The punctilious Miss Bingley, on the other hand, seemed to have lost not only her appetite for dinner but all interest in impressing the Darcys with her flummery.

27

KING MINUS

In a near swoon—real or imagined—upon having learnt of her youngest daughter’s rescue from Mr Wickham’s clutches, Mrs Bennet was restored to her usual querulous self after inhaling spirit of hartshorn.

Elizabeth’s despondency, however, received no palliative. Surrounded by her chattering sisters, she waited in painful suspense for whatever her father would say as he closed the sitting room door.

Standing then in front of the unlit fireplace, he cleared his throat, demanding everyone’s attention. “So, daughters, according to your mother, Netherfield’s housekeeper has received orders to prepare for the arrival of Mr Bingley by week’s end.”

Mrs Bennet smiled knowingly at Jane, who gave no indication of having noticed.

“Have any of you wondered,” continued Mr Bennet, “why that man is returning to his country house at this particular time and, I hear, bringing Mr Darcy with him?”

Apparently thinking it all a game, Kitty said, “Perhaps they are coming to fish.”

Taking up her book of extracts, Mary flipped through it. “It is possible that, like the prodigal son, he went away to lead an intemperate life but wishes to make a repentant return.”

“Both Kitty and Mary are wrong,” said Lydia, “although I do not know what Mary was talking about. And I care not a groat why gentlemen in blue coats are returning. I would much rather see the militia come back.”

With a hint of pique colouring her tone, Jane said, “Can Mr Bingley not come to a house he has legally rented without raising such speculation? At this time of year, many families leave town for their country homes.”

“How odd to have not heard an opinion from you, Elizabeth,” said Mr Bennet.

“Papa,” said Kitty, looking from her father to the sister she most resembled in appearance, “why do you address Lizzy so formally?”