Bingley's Revelation
"You'll never believe it, Billy-boy!" An exuberant Charles Bingley burst into Darcy's study without waiting to check that his friend was alone. As it happened, a highly-amused Colonel Fitzwilliam had been in conference with his cousin, and was rather pleased by the interruption.
"Billy-boy?" he queried. "Why, Darcy, you never told me that you answer to such a title."
Darcy grimaced. His friend Bingley loved to tease him with absurd nicknames, knowing how he hated it. To have this latest sobriquet in the hands of his cousin was definitely not his preferred outcome, but Bingley had already opened his big mouth, and the cat was out of the bag. Attempting to disguise just how much he detested the name, he said calmly, "Only Bingley has ever been stupid enough to think it apt." Unfortunately for him, Colonel Fitzwilliam had caught the unease beneath his valiant attempt at nonchalance, and his cousin's smirk warned Darcy that he would be subject to considerable taunting on the subject in future.
For now, though, there was no chance for either to pursue the question of nicknames, since Bingley was bursting to tell his news. He was unperturbed by Darcy so casually calling him stupid: there was a long-standing exchange of affectionate insults between the two men that neither surprised nor offended, so certain were they of the strong bonds of friendship that tied them together. Darcy turned his full attention to the tall, fair-haired man who was shifting from foot to foot impatiently in front of his desk. "Whether I believe it or not, Charles, I expect you wish to tell me. Out with it, man."
"I have finally caught Caroline! All this time I knew she was lying to me, but I've never been able to prove it. But she has finally slipped up."
"I suppose congratulations are in order, then," his friend replied sardonically, "if it is right to congratulate a man for discovering his sister has lied to him."
"You can save your sarcasm, Darcy. I know you have never liked her, but she is my sister after all. I could hardly reprimand her for things I couldn't prove. But now I have proof. She has been lying to me for months."
Darcy urged Bingley to take a seat and poured him a glass of port, refreshing his own glass and the Colonel's before inviting his friend to elaborate.
"You know when I left Hertfordshire, I only planned to stay in town for a day or two?" began Bingley.
Darcy felt the beginnings of anxiety at the turn of the conversation. He would by all means be pleased to see Caroline Bingley taken down a peg or two, and certainly hoped his malleable young friend was finally standing up to his manipulative sister, but if Caroline's perfidy in relation to Hertfordshire had been exposed, how long would it be before Bingley discovered his own underhanded dealings in the same matter? Nevertheless, there was nothing to be gained by fretting about it. Either his part would not be revealed, or it would and he would have to deal with the consequences. In the meantime, Bingely had a tale to tell and nothing would prevent him from doing so. "I remember it," he said calmly, taking a small sip of port.
"Well, no sooner had i got here than I found you and my sisters had followed. You had your own reasons, I am sure, though you did take the time to join Caroline and Louisa in warning me to think twice about returning. Caroline had much to say on why she thought the Bennet family – respectable country gentlefolk though they are – were beneath us. You spoke more directly to my heart, warning me that you saw no signs that Miss Bennet might return my affections. Well, between you, you convinced me to stay in town and think about things a bit more instead of rushing back to Hertfordshire. You spoke good sense, and I knew you had no other motive than my best interests. Caroline, on the other hand, spouted nothing but the sort of arrant nonsense that she thinks will make people forget that our family comes from trade. Anyway, I stayed, and here I still am.
"Caroline told me she had written to Miss Bennet to apologise for leaving so abruptly without even taking our leave of the neighbourhood, but that she had got no reply. Then just a few days ago she told me she had finally heard from Miss Bennet, who was much occupied with entertaining the officers of the regiment, who were visiting Longbourn regularly. She was sorry to disappoint me, she said, but could not help telling me that Miss Bennet's letter revealed a distinct interest in a certain Lieutenant Wickham. I was devastated, as you can imagine. To think her indifferent was one thing. To imagine her affections directed elsewhere was worse than I ever believed I could feel. It was then that I knew without doubt that I was hopelessly in love with Jane Bennet.
"I moped about feeling sorry for myself for some time, but then I noticed that Caroline had left her writing desk in the parlour one day when she went out. It was too great a temptation: I had to read Miss Bennet's words for myself. It only took a moment to find a small bundle of letters from that lady – one from Hertfordshire and two from town.
"Now we come to it, you see. Miss Bennet was not in Hertfordshire mooning over some Lieutenant. She had been in London for weeks. Her first letter advised Caroline that she was coming to town and gave the address of her relatives in Cheapside with whom she would be staying. In it she was most particular to convey her greetings to Caroline and all her family. She even underlined "all". You see, she hoped that Caroline would mention her to me. I cannot think her entirely indifferent after all.
"Her second letter was a note written on my own stationery. She had called at our townhouse, but found Caroline and Louisa on their way out. They had not even stayed long enough to greet her properly, so she had written them a note expressing her sorrow at having called at an inconvenient time and inviting them to visit her at Gracechurch Street – at her uncle's house.
"The third letter was written several weeks later. It seems my sisters had finally returned her call, only to express their disinterest in furthering the acquaintance. The letter Miss Bennet wrote them afterwards was everything genteel and forgiving. She told them she understood that though they had found pleasure in her friendship in the country, they were too busy with their social calendar while in town to renew the friendship with an inconsequential young woman such as herself. She wished them well. By God, Darcy, she wished them well, after the way they had treated her! The woman is an angel!
"So there you have it. Not only did Caroline fail to tell me that Miss Bennet was in town, she concocted a cock and bull story about her chasing some officer in Hertfordshire, just to ensure I never returned. How could she do it? She has always been ambitious and hoped for glorious connections to usher her into the first circles, but I had not thought her so heartless as to subject me to misery of the acutest kind!" So saying, Bingley slumped back in his chair, the excitement of the telling having transformed into the sorrow of the conclusion: "My sister, it seems, cares for no one but herself, and cares not how many people she hurts so long as she gets her own way."
His two friends looked on in silent sympathy as Bingley straightened himself again, saying, "Well, no more. I will not allow her to ruin my one true chance at happiness. I don't know whether Miss Bennet will agree to see me again, after the treatment she has received from my sisters, but I am determined to do everything I can to restore her faith in me as a gentleman, and to win her heart. And if Caroline so much as says boo, I will pack her off to Scarborough without an allowance, so help me God."
"Bravo, Bingley!" cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. He knew nothing of this Miss Bennet, of course, but had long despised the unmarried sister who had accompanied Charles Bingley to so many events about town in the last three years. The woman was cloyingly sycophantic when she learned he was the son of an earl, then rudely dismissive when she learned he was only an impecunious second son. She had dangled shamelessly after Darcy, despite his cousin's obvious disdain for the chit. And she spoke to her betters, including his own mother, Lady Matlock, as though she were already a member of the social elite she aspired to join. Colonel Fitzwilliam liked the brother, but the sister was intolerable. It was pleasant indeed to contemplate her comeuppance.
Darcy was slower to respond. Bingley's description of his own interference was no less forgiving than the attitude he ascribed to Miss Bennet. The two were certainly well suited in that regard, even if his other concerns about the match remained. He shrugged. It really was a matter for Bingley. Darcy had given him his advice to act with caution, and Charles had spent six weeks in town, participating in the events of the season and manfully attempting to overcome his infatuation. That he had failed was testament to the strength of his feelings, and if those feelings had withstood separation, time and distraction, perhaps they were strong enough to act upon. "Proceed with caution, Charles," he advised. "Do not jump to conclusions based on one underlined word in a letter. You have been misled by your sister. Do not now be misled by your hopes. If Miss Bennet holds you in regard, you will be able to ascertain this soon enough. But make sure you have the lady's affections – don't just assume you do because you wish it to be so. Renew your acquaintance, and let her actions be your guide. I hope it turns out well, my friend, but I would not for the world see you in a marriage of unequal affections."
Bingley set his half-drunk glass aside and sprang to his feet, a look of anticipation suffusing his face. "I am for Cheapside," he said. "Wish me well!" Colonel Fitzwilliam clapped him on the shoulder and Darcy reached across his desk to shake his hand firmly. "Go to it!" he replied.
As Charles Bingley exited the study, Colonel Fitzwilliam turned back to his cousin and said, "Now, Billy-boy, about this trip to Rosings at Easter …"
© 2018 elag