Chapter Ten
It was during the course of the following afternoon, when the gentlemen had returned from shooting pheasants for dinner, that Mr. Bingley came up to the schoolroom with Georgiana to call on me.
"Hullo, hello, and well met, Miss Elizabeth." He extended his hand out to me, smiling as widely as ever, his hair was neatly cropped and he had an expression of pure good cheer at seeing me. He shook my hand vigorously. "Prettier than ever — a delight. A delight. I need not ask if your life at Pemberley has agreed with you. I can see you are in good health, and given the paths and walks, and what I know of your habits, there never could have been any doubt!"
"No there could not have." I smiled in return, unable to keep from feeling cheerful when Mr. Bingley was present. "I am deeply indebted to you for recommending me to Mr. Darcy."
"I as well!" Georgiana cried out, looking more at ease, with her shoulders relaxed and an open smile, than I had ever seen her with a guest who was not part of the family. "I as well! I adore Lizzy. She is my dearest friend. You did me a great favor in bringing her here."
Bingley grinned widely. "Always happy. Always delighted to be of use. Never makes me happier than to do a good turn for a friend. Jane — I mean Miss Bennet — told me to give a person to person greeting from her to you. And I have a long letter from Jane to give you, also one from Mrs. Collins — savings on the postage! — and other gifts. Here, here, here."
There was a package handed over containing a beautiful knitted shawl, with lovely embroidery done by Jane, a set of pages with the writing done both lengthwise and crosswise, a half dozen silk ribbons and a jar of a strawberry preserve made by the cook at Longbourn that I was particularly fond of with the note from Charlotte.
I opened it and smelled the rich fruity scent, and then closed the jar tightly and smiled at Georgiana. "I must share some of this with you — next time you join us for a breakfast — made by my old cook from Longbourn, a much better flavor than most."
Georgiana smiled and nodded eagerly.
"I thank you greatly for your service as a courier, Mr. Bingley."
"Say nothing of it. Nothing at all. Nothing makes me so happy as being able to do a good turn for a friend. Nothing. And you especially. Since I cannot…" Mr. Bingley frowned. It was an expression that did not look proper on his face.
I asked softly, "And how are you? And how did Jane appear when you saw her?"
"Jane is beautiful and serene as always — you know how she is, an angel. The kindest creature in the world, most sensitive and sweet — she insisted I inspect your situation most keenly, to ensure that you are in fact happy. She worries — but of course I can see you are happy. Couldn't be otherwise, under the protection of Mr. Darcy."
At that I kept my face steady.
Mr. Bingley sighed then. "As for myself…" He glanced at Georgiana. "Well, you know my sentiments, and the… way I wish things might be different. I only hope — well, I wish I—"
He sighed.
"Georgiana," I asked my friend, smiling at her. "Might you give Mr. Bingley and I a chance to speak in private? Perhaps you could play to help Cathy practice her singing."
"Oh yes!" Georgiana smiled at me. "Of course, if you wish to speak in private."
She looked at me with a quirked and curious look, but Georgiana was a good girl, and I doubted that whatever her suspicions were that they landed close to the truth.
The two went to the far side of the room where there was a small piano that was kept there for Cathy or Georgiana to practice upon at such times as now, when the grand piano in the drawing room was inaccessible due to the presence of guests.
Bingley sighed dolefully and looked at his hands once Georgiana was across the room. He had settled on one of the smaller chairs kept in the room to fit Cathy's stature, and it looked ridiculous to see him sit down like that, as though he were an oversized giant.
"Has nothing changed, nothing at all in your sentiments — or hers?" I asked, a little hopefully.
"How can they?" Bingley sighed. "When I am every day presented with manners and habits of her. Marriage — it is terrible that they let you marry so easily. If you purchase the special license there is not even a month of waiting to give you a chance to reconsider — which cannot be done with honor in any case if you are the man. A ridiculous notion — you meet a woman and have known her barely more than a fortnight. You are fool enough to offer to marry her. Your life is forever chosen. Over."
I placed my hand on Bingley's arm. "I know."
He sighed. "I should not protest, I was an adult, in possession of my full reason, though still callow and foolish. I talked upon this with Mr. Darcy when I saw him. He stayed with us at Netherfield for a week — asked a great many questions about you from everyone we dined with — and well… he didn't have any advice, of course. There is nothing that can be done. But I told him everything, everything about my feelings, about Jane, about… about how mistaken I'd been. And well… " Bingley laughed. "He at least agreed entirely that the ease with which a young man can marry, and then the impossibility of undoing the attachments, is unfortunate. From things he said, I suspect Mrs. Darcy was rather worse than Mrs. Bingley — I cannot wish for Mrs. Bingley to die, so I could be free again like Mr. Darcy is. And she'll not die like Mrs. Darcy did, for I can no longer bear to touch her."
"Bingley!"
"I know, I know — I should not say anything of the sort to you. But you are Jane's sister… You are the sort of person who it is easy to confess things to. It is more from loyalty to Jane that I refrain than anything else — but I do not like my wife. Not at all."
"You are married to her. And you will remain so. You cannot and do not wish for her to die conveniently, and you cannot expect her to — she is likely to outlive you. You need an heir."
"I know. The deuce. I know." Bingley pulled at his face, as though he wished to strip it off.
He stood up from that chair and paced back and forth frustratedly. Though Georgiana's play did not stutter at all, she looked at us with clear curiosity.
"In any case… in any case…" Bingley sighed. "It is what it is, and I am glad to see Pemberley again — lovely place. And I am happy you are happy here."
"And Jane? How did Jane appear?"
"She feels as I do — how can she do anything but cry at a parting? But I hope… perhaps the feeling will die in her breast if we do not see each other every week, or twice a week. It cannot die in mine— never. And likely not in hers… but I can hope for her to be happy. That is right. She deserves happiness. Even if I have no right to hope for my own happiness, hers I can desire, even if it requires that she find it with another man."
And with that melancholy statement, Bingley sat down again with a creak, this time into a full sized chair.
We were silent.
After five minutes I ventured a comment upon the fine spring weather, Bingley replied in like manner, and Georgiana and Cathy finished their song, and came to sit with us again. Bingley laughed at Cathy, picked her up twice, and then shortly after he and Georgiana left to return to the guests, though Georgiana said as she went that she would much rather stay here with me, and that for her part she would like it very much if I came down to the drawing room, instead of remaining cooped up here this evening.
"Only if Mr. Darcy calls me." I shook my head. "I know better than to presume on my position without his permission."
"Well he will certainly want you and Cathy tonight if I have anything to say about it."
As it turned out Georgiana did have something to say about the matter, and Mr. Darcy sent a note up requesting that Cathy and I come to the drawing room that evening.
Cathy was unable to contain her delight at the promised pleasure of performance, and was even less able to concentrate for the rest of the day than she had been for the first half of the day, but this did not bother me at all as I had not anticipated that she would add any great store to her stock of learning until the house party dispersed.
The drawing room was crowded and familiar. It was larger, and hence a little less crowded, than the drawing rooms which I was used to being part of a party in. If the party here was better dressed, that made no difference. It was in fundamentals the same.
Happily dressed couples, with coffee or chocolate, or sipping wine and brandy. Fine gentlemen in their finest posturing for the women. Each of them pretending to be a peacock. And the elegant women wore their best jewelry and cooed back in feigned and real delight.
A murmur of voices, the smell of flowers and too many people. The stuffiness from a room that could not be kept quite aired out. The clink of glasses against saucers. Loud discussions passionately held, and passionate discussions quietly held.
A party, and there is nothing more to say.
I had never felt so small, lonely, and out of place as when I entered that familiar crowded room, and it seemed to me that everyone turned to look at me. Mrs. Bingley and Miss Bingley with unfriendly sneers. I did not belong any longer. They all looked at me with spiteful pity.
But then Mr. Darcy looked at me, and he smiled.
He came up to us with a warm energy. A similar warmth filled my heart against my own will. He picked Cathy up and settled her in his arms. "Are you ready for our performance?"
The girl nodded shyly, but she was quite overwhelmed by the crowd of people here.
Mr. Darcy gestured for Georgiana to sit at the piano and with some gesture to the crowd gained all of their attention. "So for the first musical performance of the night, I have taken the liberty of acquiring the services of my sister, who is the finest pianist in Derbyshire, and my daughter who is aspiring to be the finest vocalist."
Georgiana blushed and blushed, and it was clear as could be that she had no particular desire to play in front of this crowd. I could see from her every mannerism, the shrinking back, the way she kept her arms folded over her chest, the darting eyes, never meeting anyone but mine — my dear Georgiana was quite overwhelmed by this crowd.
But I had no need to worry for her, as both Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Annesley kept cautious eyes upon her.
Mr. Darcy put Cathy down, and with an arm on Georgiana's shoulder, he spoke in a quiet reassuring manner until Georgiana smiled, nodded, and sat at the piano. Darcy stayed next to her as she stretched her fingers, and Cathy took her little place by the piano. Darcy gestured for me to come up next to them. "Miss Bennet, I've heard you sing while teaching Cathy, I'll demand your service in this as well."
I blushed at this unexpected order, but walked up. I knew I was nothing remarkable, but it was not the first time I had been called upon to sing before a group, as Charlotte always pushed me forward at parties. It also gave me a sense of belonging here, to be called forward and specified by the master, by Mr. Darcy as being of use.
It is odd how emotions can swerve so wildly and so fast.
Though she had been eager for a whole week for this performance, Cathy now found her own shyness. She blushed to see everyone look at her, she opened her mouth and squeaked and then ran to where I stood, and hugging my skirts she whispered, "Too many people. I can't — take me up. Take me up."
In vain I hugged her and told her that she would do wonderfully, and that I knew she would enjoy the chance to display.
Cathy just mutely shook her head.
Seeing what was the matter, Georgiana smiled at everyone and leapt into a virtuoso performance of one of Herr Beethoven's most famous pieces.
As she played Mr. Darcy stepped forward and squatted to be at eye level with Cathy. "Feeling shy?" he asked with a hand placed on Cathy's shoulder.
The little girl nodded, on the verge of tears. "Don't wanna, don't wanna… I couldn't."
"You do not need to," he said solemnly, "if you do not wish to — but just because you are shy. You know I have often been shy. It was the greatest difficulty to me the first time I ever spoke to a group of people. I could not say a word. Not a word."
Cathy looked at her father.
"So you see, if I couldn't say a word, and you can't say a word, we are like that together." Darcy glanced at me briefly as he said this, as if he wished to ensure that I saw that he was in some way claiming Cathy. "But you know what happened then?"
"What?" Cathy rubbed at her eyes.
"I tried again, though my stomach hurt, and my throat was closed up, and my heart raced — I needed to be able to speak to others to be proud of myself. You… You are my daughter. And you have it in you — you don't need to find this courage today, but one day you'll be able to perform in front of any number of people. I believe in you."
Somehow, rather to my surprise, this speech from Mr. Darcy inspired his daughter, and when Georgiana finished her performance of the piece by Beethoven, she again stood next to the piano, her little childish face glowing in the firelight, and then with a pretty warble she sang to the end the collection of three songs that she'd practiced assiduously for the past week, only stumbling a few times.
After that Darcy with a fine baritone led another two popular songs where he had both me and Cathy sing with him.
The performance was a great success, and soon Cathy found herself surrounded by the young women and matrons of the party, all asking her questions, and praising her and making an attempt to gain her favor, for the sake of gaining her father's favor.
Georgiana was similarly, though clearly against her own will, made a favorite of all.
For my part I was left to sit to the side, unwanted, unneeded, and with no right to demand attention to be paid to myself.
I was dressed well, but in a subdued manner that showed I did not belong here, amongst these bright peacocks. So I took my place in the alcove by one of the windows, wishing I had thought to procure a book, so I could make a pretense of being engaged in something beyond sitting lonely while I was lonely. And I watched them all.
Mr. Darcy was always at the center of the room.
Where he went the conversation was brighter, faster and more interesting. The people gravitated towards him and they stood taller, more alert and became more alive when he was near. I knew for a certainty I became more alive at such times.
It was clear to me that all of the unmarried women in the party — and their families — hoped to snag Mr. Darcy's interest. I smiled to see how deftly and adroitly he managed to fend off attempts to appeal to him. I rather took heart in that, even though I knew it was ridiculous.
Even had my father lived, and I was still Miss Bennet of Longbourn, I would have been nothing next to these women.
Miss Bennet of Longbourn?
That might as well be Miss Bennet of nothing so far as the majority of these diamonds of the town would have considered me.
Yet I did take heart in Mr. Darcy's visible disinterest in these sparkling women, though my better judgement, like a yapping lap dog who existed mostly to be ignored, fervently argued against maintaining any hopes. It was clear that while he talked and smiled with these women, that there were none with whom he had any particular intimacy. It was impossible for me to imagine him entrusting any of them with the story of his wife's betrayal and Cathy's likely parenthood.
"Lizzy!"
Georgiana's kind voice broke my melancholic abstraction and introspection.
"I have only now taken the chance to escape." Georgiana sat close next to me, pulling up her chair close to mine, and bending her head so that we looked like we were in a close conference and there was no space for a third person to enter the conversation. "They all wish to praise me — everyone says the same things upon my playing. I blush and blush. I should enjoy being praised, but I wish to disappear."
I smiled at her and poked her arm laughing gaily. "It is your own fault, no one but yourself to blame. This is the curse you brought upon yourself by practicing too much — I need never fear such an unwanted popularity."
I looked at her with a cheerful smile, being put in a much kinder frame of mind towards the world by her coming from amongst the crowd to sit by me as a refuge.
"Oh Lizzy! I should introduce you to everyone, and make them speak with you — you must find it so odd. To have been at many parties just like this, and to now not be able to speak freely with everyone — I half forget you are in service most of the time." She smiled at me but then nibbled her lips frowning, as though contemplating facing the embarrassment of actually pushing me to the notice of all of her friends here.
I touched her arm. "It is not so difficult for me — I know those who are really my friends are still my friends, such as you."
"And my brother," Georgiana agreed. "I told you he would invite you to sit in the drawing room."
I shrugged. I knew that while Georgiana often forgot that I was in service, Mr. Darcy never had any such absence of mind. Neither did I.
"Eliza Bennet, my word," a cackling voice broke upon us, and I looked up to see a peach cheeked woman whose eyes glinted maliciously in time with the bobbing of the feathers in her cap. "I heard my darling husband found you a place in the governess slave trade, but I'd half-forgotten it was with our dear, sweet Mr. Darcy — Caro, Caro, see our friend here, Miss Eliza? Quite strange to see you sitting in here so quietly — should you not be making an effort to entertain little Miss Darcy? I essentially adore children. She had the most darling voice, you performed marvelously. Simply marvelously. Georgiana, such piano play! Such a goose! I adore your piano play!"
Georgiana seemed to shrink while Mrs. Bingley and Miss Bingley crowded next to us pulling chairs in between the spaces we'd somehow left and laughing.
"Working for your clothes now?" Miss Bingley took the arm of my dress and rubbed the silk between her fingers. "Why, I swear you wore this same dress to that ball we had at Netherfield after we entered your neighborhood. Just a few weeks before your dear father passed… ah, he was a strange man, was he not?"
"I still miss him greatly."
"After so much time? A year I dare say. More than a year. Our dear Mrs. Collins misses you." Miss Bingley giggled. "To think she was in that hideously small parsonage — I have never seen it, but I am sure it was hideously small — less than a whole month before she owned your old pile. But you dress too well for a governess. I don't approve of that. Your position and all — Georgiana, wouldn't you prefer if Miss Bennet dressed a little less… a la mode?"
Georgiana gaped at Miss Bingley, but I could see in how her face was reddening that she was shocked by Miss Bingley's rudeness towards me, and that she very possibly would engage in a rudeness of her own to defend me if I allowed her.
I placed a calming hand on my dear friend's arm. "You ought to suggest that I only be allowed to wear simple wool dresses to Mr. Darcy." I smiled at her. "He is after all a fastidious and proper man and he has found nothing amiss."
"Yes, yes, I should suggest that to him. But, Georgie, my dear friend, might I have a word for you?" Miss Bingley smiled. "Do come. Do come. I wish to ask a private question."
"You may say anything to me in front of Lizzy."
"Lizzy? — you are too much on intimate terms with the family." Mrs. Bingley frowned at me. "A girl so beautiful as you, and with a sister like yours."
She clucked her tongue disapprovingly. She sneered at me, as though there was something particularly disreputable about me.
Miss Bingley laughed and grabbed Georgiana's arm and pulled her to stand. "In front of a governess? Nonsense! — our dear Eliza was quite insistent on entering service, I'd not dream of treating her now as anything but a governess."
Georgiana was pulled away from me, looking back at me with a slightly desperate look.
I smiled at her, as comfortingly as I could, but I had never liked the women of Mr. Bingley's household, not even when I had been of the same status as them.
I leaned back into the plump cushions of my chair and sighed. It was a rather dull evening, and the air had that stuffy scent from too many people sitting in doors for too long, all breathing and talking. I wished to take my leave and ascend to my room, or back to the schoolroom and sit with an opened window to enjoy the cool evening air.
I walked out to the refreshing room, and splashed water over my face. I then stepped into a small guest room that was not occupied, to stick my head out for fresh air, even though it was only for a minute.
I had to return to the room.
It was my duty to remain until such time as my charge's sleeping hour came. Which would not be long, just another hour.
As I moved to return to the drawing room, I overheard a conversation held in the hall. "Georgie dear, now at last we are alone — you do not mind if I call you Georgie?" Mrs. Bingley spoke this time, in her falsest tone. "Your brother and my dear, dear husband are such dear friends — Georgie dear, you must take care to be cautious around Miss Bennet — her family is not respectable, no, not at all. Not refined, or well-mannered like us. They are not people of breeding. Not like us. A quite mercenary family. You must be cautious around her — I see that she looks at your brother a great deal. She is scheming, I know these Bennet girls, and how they scheme."
I went pale. The usual curse of those who overhear conversations after all is to hear themselves spoken of poorly.
"You must be careful, not that there is any chance Mr. Darcy could ever be fooled by the wiles of such a creature… but she should not remain so close to you all — you can see how such a low creature has worked to insinuate herself into your family. Her sister Jane has engaged in a protracted attempt to… it is a shocking thing to say… I hesitate to speak such aloud. But her sister Jane is the worst sort of woman, with her sighings after my husband. Miss Eliza is like her as well. You really ought to be less close to your staff — not proper for a girl of your high standing to call a woman of her sort 'Lizzy' — I say all this to you as a kindness."
There was a murmur from Georgiana too quiet for me to hear.
Miss Bingley now said, "What was that, dear? I do assure you that Miss Bennet's sisters are quite disreputable — waving swords, drinking, cards, the worst sorts of intrigues with officers, and Elizabeth and her mother only ever cared about money — I would never have recommended her as a governess but—"
"Elizabeth is my friend! And neither of you are. You may not call me Georgie, or Georgiana, or treat me in any way that indicates we are intimate, for we are not."
Georgiana marched out of the hall where they'd stood in conference, and she sought to find her own refuge in the same room that I had retreated to. She banged the door shut behind her, her blue silk dress swishing side to side around her legs, and the most determinedly angry expression I'd ever seen on her face.
I embraced her unable to keep from smiling widely as I did so.
"Lizzy!" She clung to me, and said, "They said the most horrid things about you — I never liked Miss Bingley, and—"
"I know, I heard, I heard — I am angry at them too."
"And your sister Jane, you've told me how sweet she is, for them to say such things—"
"Mrs. Bingley is angry, and that makes her unhappy. She has a little reason to be angry."
"I don't care what anyone says, Lizzy, I will always be your friend."
"And I will always be yours." I smiled warmly back at her, and we embraced tightly again, clinging to each other, with that sort of affection that only honest hearts can know.
We remained for a while in the small room as Georgiana cried and calmed. I also needed time to calm. I was in fact angry, extremely angry at that pair. But I now was "one of that sort", so they would never care. We hugged and held each other, sitting on one of the ubiquitous stuffed blue velvet couches.
I hated to hear Jane spoken of so crudely and cruelly, but to have my shy friend loudly defend me in such a way — especially when I was merely a governess.
"You are one of my dearest friends," I said to her, "and I am very, very proud of you."
"I listened for too long, but I could not just allow her to defame you — you should have seen Mrs. Bingley's eyes, she hates you… there was this malicious glint, and the way she leaned too close to me. I could smell the hollandaise sauce from dinner upon her breath — you and Mr. Bingley wanted to talk privately, is this about that…"
I sighed and took Georgie's hand. "They are quite the fools about it. My sister Jane and Mr. Bingley fell in love — I do not think they have ever, or will ever do anything immoral, not in their actions, and we cannot control our feelings, so feeling without action cannot be immoral, but…"
"And they can never be together — and Mr. Bingley is such a gentle and kind man. So cheerful, and to be tied, tied forever to such a horrid woman. It is terrible! Terrible how one such mistake in a matter of marriage can doom a person for life."
"I know."
"And she implied that you wanted to do something with my brother — not that… I wouldn't be unhappy. I sometimes wished… wished that you and Brother might fall in love. And what Mrs. Bingley said, about you looking at him… do you maybe—"
"Georgiana," I said, quickly before tears came to me, "I beg you, as you love me, please do not ask me upon this. I will only say that though you may forget my station, I do not believe your brother ever could."
"He married so badly the first time." She pouted. "And you would tell me… would you not if… if you and he…"
"There is… there is nothing to say. I admire your brother very much, but there is…" I paused, knowing that what I next said would be the closest thing to a lie. "There is a great distance between such a sort of admiration and love."
I could not look at Georgiana, and I bit my lip.
Neither of us said anything.
The room now seemed empty and lonely, even though we were together. The unlit fireplace gaped at me, and I shivered, for while it was too warm to set a fire in every room, it was also too cold to stand before open windows in bare shouldered ball dresses.
Georgiana gripped my hands with her warm slender fingers.
I sighed and stood up. "I must see to Cathy — quite close to the time to take her up and place her to bed. Else she will be cranky tomorrow."
"Yes, yes." Georgiana leapt up. "Oh though I do wish you could stay all night with me — I can hardly bear to face the room again. Someone may have heard my speech denying any intimacy with Mrs. Bingley."
"Nonsense." I put my hands on Georgiana's shoulders, and said to her straight in the eye, "You are brave, and powerful, never forget."
She hugged me in reply, and I had such an odd combination of sensations for the rest of the night — an odd sense of shame at the way I'd been spoken of by Mrs. Bingley and Miss Bingley. That heartache of having the impossibility of my hopes for Mr. Darcy mocked by such a creature. And finally, perhaps most important, a happy bubbly feeling of affection, like the one I had for my dear sisters, every time I thought about Georgiana embracing me.