Chapter Seven
Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley sat together on a sofa adjacent to the fireplace with their heads bowed together. Many of the other chairs in the room and been moved against the walls leaving only the sofa directly opposite the sisters for Elizabeth to sit on. It felt orchestrated. Deliberate.
It reminded Elizabeth of the times when she was younger when her father or Mrs Bennet had sought a confession from her for some misdeed or other; they would sit down across from her asking a series of questions everybody already knew the answer to. Did she know who put salt in the sugar container? Did she know who had let the pig into the kitchen? Or how the ducklings came to be in Mrs Bennet's room?
Elizabeth felt her blood chill. Unlike those occasions, she was not certain what the two people sat across from her wanted, but she did know she was about to be interrogated by the beastly Bingley sisters.
Elizabeth waited in uncomfortable silence directly across from Miss Bingley with Mrs Hurst to her sister's left. Whilst Louisa Hurst appeared to be enjoying the experience as much as Elizabeth, Caroline Bingley looked to be revelling in it.
"So, Miss Eliza," the overdressed lady began, after serving the tea, "you are one of five sisters I understand. What a boisterous household that must be?"
"The youngest two certainly can be, but at thirteen and fourteen they are still full young, and can be easily forgiven on the occasions that their enthusiasm gets the better of them." Elizabeth replied; her suspicion rising.
"At that age, I am sure your mother quite relies upon your governess." Caroline Bingley's smile could have given a honeybee tooth ache for all its false sweetness.
"I am sure Mrs Bennet would do so, had we a governess to rely upon."
Miss Bingley looked almost triumphant at the confirmation the Bennet sisters had not been traditionally educated as befit their station. Caroline was determined to discover as many faults as she could amongst the Bennet family and relay them promptly to her brother and Mr Darcy, for she had seen both gentlemen paying unseemly amounts of attention to the eldest Miss Bennet's and it would not do. She had therefore tasked herself with emphasising the differences between their social circles and reinforcing the inappropriateness of either gentleman encouraging such connections.
"I have noticed, Miss Eliza that you have a tendency to refer to your mother as Mrs Bennet. As the dedicated, God-fearing Christian that I am sure you are, I am surprised. For are we not all taught to honour our mothers and fathers?"
By this point, Elizabeth was two cups of tea and six biscuits into the interrogation and had lost most of her patience with Miss Bingley. "Were she my mother I would name her as such, but Mrs Bennet did not birth either myself or Jane. I would have thought that such information had already reached you Miss Bingley? It is commonly known within Meryton."
Mrs Hurst had the good grace to look embarrassed by the direction of the conversation but Miss Bingley persevered. "I have observed it to be quite commonplace for a child to refer to a step parent as mother or father, though forgive me if that is not the practice in these parts." The end of Miss Bingley's comment was said with such a sneer that Elizabeth almost believe herself to live in an undiscovered faraway land. 'These parts' were less than half a day from London, surely Miss Bingley could not believe Meryton to be as wild as that.
"As a dedicated, God-fearing Christian, I believe that I am honouring my true mother by reserving the moniker only for her. Mrs Bennet understands the preference, I assure you." By which Elizabeth meant that she had eventually stopped complaining about it - publically at least.
At that moment Mr Darcy was walking past the ajar door of the drawing room and, after overhearing Miss Elizabeth's final remark, an immediate retort about Mrs Bennet understanding anything sprang to mind; he did not believe it wise to share such a quip with the nearby footman so kept it to himself. Darcy hesitated outside the door, he had been hoping to spend some time in Miss Elizabeth's presence but was unsure whether the addition of Miss Bingley was a price he was prepared to pay for the pleasure.
"On the subject of your mother, and pray do not think me insensitive in this request, but can you tell me more about her? With Charles showing such an interest in your sister I was hoping to know more about your family."
Both Elizabeth and Darcy found themselves doubtful of Miss Bingley's motives. That she was after information about Jane and Elizabeth's mother was clear to see, but neither believed the query was put forward with Mr Bingley's best interest in mind.
Darcy knew he should either walk away from the door or enter and declare his being there, but he wished to know what Miss Elizabeth would say on the subject also, so he remained where he was.
"I am afraid Miss Bingley that your enquiry will not receive a satisfactory answer," Elizabeth hesitated when she saw the gleam in Caroline Bingley's eyes. "My father, on the whole, does not permit contact with my maternal relatives."
"That is a shame," Caroline attempted to convey sympathy to her victim but she was the only one listening who thought she came close to succeeding, "I thought I had heard it said that you have relatives in town whom you visit with regularly?"
"Yes, I have an Aunt I visit." Elizabeth did not feel like providing more details than was necessary to her inquisitor and so kept her answers as short as politely possible.
"And where in London are they situated Miss Eliza?"
"Gracechurch Street, Miss Bingley."
"That is in Cheapside is it not? Pray what line of trade is your Uncle in?" Darcy could well imagine the smugness emanating from Miss Bingley from behind the door.
Elizabeth knew that Miss Bingley had already gathered this information prior to their tea so was unsure how her confirmation would change anything, "Near enough to be call in Cheapside, I suppose. He is a textile merchant, his warehouses supply some of the best modistes and tailors in town."
Mrs Hurst attempted to ease the rising tension in the room but only managed to earn a disparaging look from her sister when she contributed with, "Maybe Caroline and I have some dresses made up of his imports, would not that be just a lovely sort of coincidence?"
Darcy could handle his rising embarrassment no longer and decided to brave the lionesses den. The lull in conversation following Mrs Hurst's contribution provided him with the opportunity to enter the room without it appearing as though he had heard more than he should have.
"Ah, Mr Darcy," the ladies stood as he entered and Miss Bingley failed at her less than subtle attempts to manoeuvre her sister onto the sofa by Miss Elizabeth, "how lovely it is to see you this morning. Miss Eliza was just telling us about her mother's family. She has an uncle in trade, did you know?"
Darcy fought the temptation to correct Miss Bingley and inform the lady that it had been afternoon since before she stirred from her bed chamber. Instead he asked Miss Elizabeth the line of trade in which her uncle was in; best to appear like he had not been eavesdropping after all. When the ever predictable Miss Bingley spoke for her, Darcy could no longer hold his tongue. "Your father was also in textiles was he not? Wool if I remember correctly."
Elizabeth was at a loss as to understand why Mr Darcy would believe it his duty to come to her rescue; on this occasion, however, she would allow his overbearing nature to be of assistance to her. Miss Bingley was equally confused and floundered for a reply. In place of comment she returned to questioning Miss Elizabeth on her mother.
With her own wounded pride Miss Bingley was rapidly losing whatever tact she had tried to employ at the beginning of the discussion. She was now determined to put the chit her place by uncovering the truth of her mother's demise. Despite no real evidence, Caroline was certain that Miss Eliza's mother was an immoral woman who would bring scandal and scorn to her family if Charles were to lower himself to such a connection as marriage to Jane. It was additionally fuelled by her need to show Miss Elizabeth in a negative light in front of Mr Darcy whenever an opening presented itself.
"Miss Eliza, if you do not mind my asking, how long has your father been married to Mrs Bennet? Your sister Miss Mary is not so different in age to yourself."
"My father has been married to the present Mrs Bennet for around seventeen years. Unfortunately he had not been married to my mother for even five years before the both she and my brother were taken from us." Miss Bingley stumbled at that, she was adamant that the eldest Miss Bennet's were illegitimate, and Elizabeth was satisfied to see her foiled.
"You have my deepest sympathies, Miss Elizabeth." Mr Darcy offered, "All of us here know the pain of losing a mother, but to lose a brother also must have caused deep heartache for your family, I am sorry for your loss."
"Thank you, Mr Darcy. It has had a lasting impact, though I was too young to remember that period of time myself. I know that envy is a sin, and one which young ladies should not readily admit to feeling, but I fear I cannot deny that I do envy persons such as yourself. You have memories of your mother, I hope, which you are able to recall fondly. Something pleasant to hold onto in times of grief. Would that I could find a way up into the stars so that I may have the chance to speak with my mother and recall her voice in quiet moments."
"I believe my dear sister suffers a similar affliction. I cannot condemn you for such sentiments," replied Mr Darcy.
Miss Bingley was not fond of the direction which this conversation was taking and sought to regain control of the situation she had orchestrated. Hoping for scandal in the manner of the late Mrs Bennet's death at least, she asked "And how did your dear mother and brother pass, my dear Eliza? For both to depart this world, one would suspect it was in childbirth?"
"Is such a conversation really fitting for a drawing room Caroline?" enquired Mrs Hurst.
"It was not childbirth," Elizabeth began. Caroline felt the answers she had been seeking were just moments away. "It was a carriage accident." The others in the drawing room waited to see if Elizabeth would add anything else. Somehow she felt guilty for not being able to provide any grisly details. "I was only two years of age at the time, I do not recall what happened. All I know is that Jane and I were also present, and I broke my arm. My father subsequently blamed my mother's family, for we had been journeying back from a visit to them in the north at the time, and cut ties with them."
The occupants of the room were experiencing varying degrees of frustration by the time Lizzy had finished her short tale. Elizabeth herself was feeling a familiar vexation at her lack of knowledge of the event which changed her life. Her father had refused to talk about it and the Gardiner's and Fitzwilliam's felt honour bound to accept Mr Bennet's right as her father and Amelia's husband to decide such things.
Miss Bingley was doing her utmost to hide her irritation. The details, or lack thereof, from Miss Eliza were not beneficial to her campaign to remove the residents of Netherfield from the estate and back to London. She could not allow her brother and Mr Darcy to continue on being hoodwinked by the Bennet's. She would have to come up with a different plan.
Mrs Hurst felt only a mild annoyance. It originated from an understanding that she would have to listen to her sister complain for a substantial length of time once this audience was through. In fact it would probably last for days. 'Maybe I should come down with a headache now and try to avoid it.'
For Mr Darcy, the frustration lay in a niggling memory. He too had been in a carriage accident some seventeen or eighteen years ago. Some of the travellers had not survived and his own mother had suffered a miscarriage which had made her weak enough that when she birthed Georgiana a few years later she did not survive long after. He tried to dismiss the memory, surely he would know if the other travellers were the Bennet's.
Before he knew what he was about he turned to Miss Elizabeth and asked, "What were their names?"
"Amelia and Thomas."
So quietly that no one else in the room heard him, Darcy breathed, "Aunt Mellie."
After that the conversation moved on to more common topics, but Darcy was unable to contribute. All that he kept thinking to himself was 'I was there; I saw her mother die.'
As a young boy he had often played with his Fitzwilliam cousins, and whenever their Aunt Amelia Walker-Bennet had come to visit them he had taken to calling her Aunt Mellie as they had done. In truth she was his Aunt Rebecca's (Lady Matlock's) cousin so she should not have been given the title aunt in the first place but as a child he had just taken it in stride like children do.
They had all been together at the Matlock estate in Leicestershire just prior to the carriage accident. It had been one of the happiest summers he could remember having as a boy. He and his two eldest Fitzwilliam cousins, Walker and Richard, regularly pretended to be knights sent to save the girls from the tower (nursery) and help them escape the evil dragons (nursemaids).
The Darcy's and Bennet's, as they often did, chose to journey south together in one carriage, so that the children might better entertain one another and their mothers might hope for some sensible conversation. But unlike the many similar trips they had taken together before that fateful day, this one ended in disaster. 'I was there; I saw her mother die.'
Darcy did not know how to proceed. He could tell from the things which she had said that Miss Elizabeth longed for some detail about that day. He could not comprehend how hard it was for the eldest Miss Bennet's to have only half the information as it pertained to their mother and brother's deaths. He knew that if the roles were reversed he would wish to receive any particulars he could. Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, however, were delicate young ladies. The memories he had of the accident were not easy to endure. 'I was there; I saw her mother die.'
As Miss Bingley was trying to voice some excuse or other to break up their little tea party, the butler opened the door and announced a most unexpected guest.
"Colonel Fitzwilliam, ma'am."