Page 28

Miss Bingley had never in her life wanted two words from Elizabeth, let alone a great deal. But her hand was already on Elizabeth’s arm, and Mrs Bennet was watching them from across the room with every sign of delight. There was nothing to be done without making a scene. Elizabeth curtseyed to Mr Darcy and let herself be led away.

Miss Bingley talked about the flowers and the weather until they were out in the hall. It was cold there after the dining room, and the noise of the party came through the door only faintly. She waited until the door had swung shut. Then she let go of Elizabeth’s arm, and her smile went at the same moment.

“I shall not keep you long, Miss Eliza. I am sure you are anxious to get back. You and your mother have done very well today. I will not pretend otherwise. You have got Jane into our family, and we must all make the best of it. But I should not like you to have the wrong idea. Charles is not going to take the rest of you to town and find you all rich husbands. He has married one Bennet. He has not married all five.”

Elizabeth said nothing. Miss Bingley seemed to take that as a good sign, for she went on more quickly.

“And as for Mr Darcy.” She laughed a little. “I saw how you were looking at him just now. You are wasting your time. His family meant him for his cousin Anne from the day she was born. That has come to nothing, I grant you, but he will never sink so low as to marry someone like you.”

“Someone like me,” Elizabeth said. “Do you mean someone like my sister? Your brother married her not three hours ago. I think that makes her your family now, and mine yours, whether you like it or not.”

Miss Bingley’s mouth went thin.

“My father is a gentleman, Miss Bingley. His land came to him from his father, and to his father before that. Yours made his money in trade. If we are going to talk about sinking low, I should think very carefully about which of us is standing higher.”

“You forget yourself.”

“I do not think I do. You have more money than I, I grant you. But money does not buy good manners. If it did, you would not have spent yours paying an actress to tell my sister lies about your own brother, the day before his wedding.”

“I wonder what Mr Bingley would say if I told him.”

For a moment there was no sound at all but the clock ticking at the foot of the stairs.

“I will not be threatened, Miss Eliza. Charles has known me all his life. He will never believe you over me.”

“Perhaps not,” said Elizabeth. “But he might believe Mr Darcy. It was Mr Darcy who found out what you had done. He was the one who told me.”

She had meant it to finish the matter, and for a moment she thought it had. All the colour left Miss Bingley’s face. Elizabeth was almost sorry for her.

Then Miss Bingley laughed.

It was not a kind sound. There was relief in it, and triumph.

“Did he tell you he found it out? Oh, that is very like him. He knew about it because I told him. I sat at my embroidery frame at Netherfield and told him everything. Do you want to know what he said?”

Elizabeth did not answer. She did not trust her voice.

“He agreed with every word. He thought your sister did not care for Charles. He thought your family would drag him down. He said so to me last autumn, and he said so again this winter. He listened to every plan I made, and when he did not like one, he made it better. He had half a mind to try something of his own, I believe, if mine had not been ready first.” She looked Elizabeth over with frank enjoyment. “If he changed his mind at the last minute, I should ask myself why. Gentlemen get very bored in the country, Miss Eliza. They will amuse themselves however they can.”

Elizabeth put her hand on the newel post. The wood was cold and smooth, worn down by years of Bennet hands going up to bed, and she held it tighter than she meant to.

She was back at Hunsford. The parsonage parlour, the fire burning low, his coat still dark with rain. I will not tell you what is untrue, he had said. Yes. I believed the match imprudent. He had not denied it then. He had not even tried.

You give me more credit than I deserve.

She had thought he was being modest.

“You look very pale, Miss Eliza,” said Miss Bingley. “It must be the heat of that room. Shall we go back? Your mother will be missing you.”

She went back through the door without waiting to see if Elizabeth would follow.

Elizabeth stayed where she was until the clock had ticked away a full minute. Then she let go of the post, shook out her skirts, and went back in.

Nothing had changed. Somebody had cut the second cake. Lydia was complaining that her toes had not warmed up since the church, and Mrs Bennet was describing the lace on Jane’s sleeves to anyone who stood still long enough to hear it. Mr Bingley was holding Jane’s hand under the edge of the table, where he thought nobody could see. Her mother’s chair by the window stood empty, and so, Elizabeth noticed without much interest, did the place where Mr Collins had been standing guard over the ham. People had been going in and out all morning.

Mr Darcy was still by the sideboard. He looked up when she came in, and his face changed. She had never seen him look like that before, not in all the months she had known him. He looked glad to see her. He looked almost hopeful. He took a step towards her.

Elizabeth turned away and went to stand beside Jane.