RED
"Mrs. Darcy – a Miss Bingley has asked if you are available to take her call."
Quite to her own surprise, Elizabeth said, "Yes, I will be happy to receive Miss Bingley."
"She is in the green parlor, madam."
Elizabeth was happy it was not the yellow one, so she followed the butler, quite surprised to find herself looking forward to the encounter for some reason she could not fathom. Was she lonely for company of people somewhat matching her station in life, aside from the local gentlemen she had spent considerable time with at the bookshop? Was she secretly wondering if the lady would have news of Hertfordshire or London of interest? Could Miss Bingley have news about her husband, and if so, did she want to hear it? Did Mrs. Darcy want to gloat over the loser of the supposed 'contest' for the title of Mrs. Darcy?
Mrs. Darcy's internal ruminations were quite the mess, and she had not even begun to sort them out when Jennings led her into the parlor, where she found herself standing in front of Caroline Bingley, who was looking somewhat cautious, as if she were not completely sure of herself. Elizabeth found it refreshing to see the lady in that state, as she had never seen anything save brash confidence in Hertfordshire.
"Miss Bingley – welcome to Pemberley," she said with a much bigger smile than she might have intended.
"Mrs. Darcy, I hope you will pardon my intrusion. Mr. Jennings says you were in mourning and not taking callers, but I did hope you would take pity on me, since we are known to each other."
"Think nothing of it, Miss Bingley. I am happy to receive you, although I fear I cannot offer you hospitality for the night."
"That is of no concern, Mrs. Darcy. I am on my way to Manchester, so I can only stop for an hour or two anyway. My lodgings for the night are already arranged."
"Please have a seat, and I shall ring for refreshments. I confess I am famished."
Elizabeth asked Jennings, who had hovered near the door, to order refreshments, which surprisingly, marked the very first time she had asked him for refreshments for a guest. In fact, it was the first time she had ever asked him for refreshments for anyone. Most of the time, she just had Molly bring her whatever she wanted, or Molly anticipated her need, or if she was desperate, she would wander the halls and pick the first maid or footman she happened to see. The whole encounter felt odd – both familiar and strange at the same time. She had of course examined all the parlors and selected the ones she might someday use for each purpose, but without any guests, she usually found it easier and more comfortable to stay in the library or near her suite. It was if she was waiting for something – some sign of some sort – before she really laid claim as mistress or took up too many of the mistress' habits.
When Jennings left, Elizabeth continued, "Would you believe I have been here nearly five months, and you are my first real visitor?" she asked, still seething about the Matlocks' visit.
"Would it be impertinent to ask why?" Caroline asked, although Elizabeth saw some hint of something in her countenance that she could not quite put her finger on.
With a smile, Elizabeth replied, "Yes, it would indeed be impertinent – but I am not one who thinks impertinence is a bad thing. If it were, I would be in trouble, as it may well be my worst failing, and most noticeable personality trait."
Miss Bingley looked thoughtful, for the first time within Elizabeth's experience. "All the same, asking such a personal question was probably ill-advised – but I am still curious."
Elizabeth pondered a moment. "Before I answer you, Miss Bingley, might we stipulate that we did not like each other very much in Meryton."
"So stipulated," the lady answered, which Elizabeth found amusing. It was the way a barrister would speak, and hardly what she would expect from another lady. Most of the ladies Elizabeth knew would have asked what 'stipulate' meant, so she was already intrigued by her guest.
"If I may be so bold as to venture a guess, your –" and she paused, for a moment.
Caroline helpfully added, "Are you trying to think of a polite way to say, 'overt hostility'?"
Elizabeth laughed. "Yes, that was exactly it."
"May I address that?"
"Be my guest."
Caroline, having come this far seemed at a loss as to where to continue, so Elizabeth interrupted her. "Before you start, might we agree that this is a private conversation, not to be repeated to anyone, including any or all, of our siblings, spouses, and so forth? I will trust you if you trust me."
"Of course," Caroline said, and then added, "and that is not just a flippant answer. As you have probably surmised, I did not just accidentally land here at Pemberley on my way to Manchester."
Elizabeth chuckled. "I suspected as much."
Caroline thought a moment, and finally said, "I do not think we ever really had a chance to know each other – back then. As you surmised, I hated Meryton right from the first moment I stepped foot there, so I looked for fault in every direction. You just happened to be in the way."
Curious, Elizabeth asked, "Yes, I could see that, but I always assumed that you were either high on the instep, hunting Mr. Darcy, or both," with a shrug accompanied by a puzzled expression.
"Yes, I will admit to both. Then of course, walking into that assembly that my brother just had to attend before we even knew a single soul, thus ensuring that we would be stared and gossiped about like pigs being taken to market, did not help."
Getting into the spirit of the thing, Elizabeth said, "And I imagine you must have heard my mother and all of her cronies screeching about your five-thousand, or ten-thousand, or what have you, did not improve your disposition."
"Your mother lacks subtlety, but I do have to applaud her for audacity."
Elizabeth frowned. "Alas, I cannot."
Caroline leaned forward in surprise, although whether it was real or feigned was anybody's guess. She decided not to address that particular issue, so instead, she said, "Then of course, there was my brother and your sister –" at which point she tapered off, as if unsure how far to push her luck on that issue.
With a half-hearted shrug, Elizabeth stared at the ground and murmured. "You were right, you know. Jane liked him, and she would have married him had he asked; but she never really loved him, or even thought very well of him aside from the practical concerns."
Caroline startled at that revelation. She was obviously not all that surprised by the facts of the assertion, since she believed that love hardly ever entered the equation in marriage; but she was quite surprised that Mrs. Darcy would state it aloud like that.
Elizabeth saw her confusion. "Do not be alarmed, Miss Bingley. You are my first guest because my husband, who is away somewhere doing something that I know nothing about, has forbidden me from entertaining, and –"
She stopped mid-word and said suddenly, "I must be quite starved for company. I am surprised I said all of that to –" before tapering off in confusion again.
Caroline helpfully suggested. "Someone you dislike? Someone you distrust? A notorious gossip and social climber?" with an arched eyebrow.
Elizabeth laughed. "Any or all of them, I suppose."
Caroline drew in a deep breath. "Perhaps I can even the score, since I believe I can finish that sentence for you."
"Go on," Elizabeth said, not entirely certain she wanted to hear the rest.
"Have you ever been going somewhere in your house, just minding your own business and going your own way, when you happened to, entirely by accident, overhear a conversation that was not meant for your ears?"
Elizabeth thought back to the time only a fortnight previously when she did exactly that with the Matlocks, and replied, "Accidentally, of course."
"Of course," Caroline half-giggled. "although I probably would have to admit that I sometimes 'accidentally' have my ear against a door."
Elizabeth laughed along with the jest, so Caroline continued.
"I happened to overhear a conversation between your husband and my brother. I would have to say that it was not auspicious. They talked about his then betrothed, Miss de Bourgh …" then she paused, stared at Elizabeth and continued, "… and they talked about you, at some length."
Not liking the sound of it, but unable to look away, Elizabeth replied, "Go on, please."
"Your husband was not in the least happy about the way things played out. In fact, I believe I heard some words that could best be described as cursing during the dialogue. He was most assuredly unhappy with the situation."
"Yes, he made that abundantly clear. Please continue," she said, not entirely sure she wanted to hear the rest.
Caroline took a deep breath. "Before I finish, may I suggest we have something in common."
Surprised, Elizabeth said, "You may need to be more specific. We seem to have several things in common."
Caroline took a sip of cold tea, ate a biscuit, and took another sip while Elizabeth waited for her to gather her courage.
"Specifically, we are both in the power of a man who does not like us, and never has," she said, then looked at her companion before adding, "although in your case it may not be entirely hopeless. I suspect your husband likes you more than he will admit to, even to himself. His pride, as you well know, is nearly iron clad, but he did ask you dance – thrice by my count."
Curious, Elizabeth left the discussion of her husband to the side. "Tell me about your nemesis, Miss Bingley. I think we both know about mine, and I am presently unwilling to speculate on his state of mind."
Caroline paused again, and finally said, "My father wanted to belong to the gentry so bad he could taste it, and he did his best to impart that attitude on his children. I was sent to a seminary, where I was the 'new money' and had to fight and claw my way to any kind of social position at all. It may sound crass and heartless, but the alternative was to be entirely shunned and taken advantage of by my 'social superiors', which could take quite a nasty form when they were displeased or bored."
Surprised by the admission, Elizabeth reached across and squeezed her companion's hand.
"I was in London when my father died, and my brother just left me there, with hardly a note, and certainly not a visit for months. When he finally got me out," she paused in thought, then continued, "he did not seem to like what the seminary made me. Perhaps, it just exposed my bad character – we will never know – but either way, my brother did not like me very much."
"What happened then."
"He went to university, met your husband, and became fast friends, or at least allies. I think Charles offers Mr. Darcy something he cannot obtain by himself in the way of easier entry into society, and I think he was also responsible for watching your husband's back against attacks like your mother's. However, in the end, I think that my brother is very definitely the junior in the partnership. We gained much more than he did."
"And …"
"… And, as is the usual custom, my brother inherited everything. My father left me a decent dowry, and a set of very high expectations, but it is all in the control of my brother. I suppose he is a good man, and probably a good friend to your husband, but he is not a very good brother. He says, 'Fend for yourself while I go to Cambridge', so I fend for myself in society. He says, 'let us live in London', and we live in London. He says, 'introduce me to interesting ladies', and I introduce him to ladies until he gets the hang of it himself. He was much shyer when he was younger, you see."
"Go on."
"He says, 'I must lease an estate in Hertfordshire', and we go to Hertfordshire. He says, 'I want to go to an assembly on your first night in the neighborhood', and we go to the assembly. He says, 'we must nurse a woman who could perfectly well take a carriage three miles home if she wanted to', and we nurse her for a week – although you took the brunt of that, obviously.
She sighed, then continued with a shrug. "He says, 'I want to have a ball in a week', and we have a ball in a week, organized entirely by me. He says, 'I am to marry a woman in Kent', and he finds himself married to a woman in Kent, who has no real use for a sister. Those are the high points, but you get my meaning."
Stunned by the admission, which frankly overturned everything she had ever thought about Miss Bingley, she said, "I am sorry to hear that, Miss Bingley. I must admit that my animosity over the way you treated me and my family –"
"Ah, that – I supposed I should apologize for it."
"No, I think not. First off, I do not communicate with my family anymore, so you cannot proffer an apology to them through me; and in the end, you were right. You should not apologize for being right."
Caroline looked both surprised and skeptical, but Elizabeth said, "There is more to the story, which I am not willing to share at the moment."
Caroline nodded, then leaned forward in her chair and examined Elizabeth's dress carefully, then leaned back in her chair, saying, "Aha!"
Elizabeth just looked quizzical, and Caroline asked, "Is that not the day dress you wore when you came to Netherfield to nurse your sister, who was sick because your mother sent her on horseback in the rain as part of a slightly more subtle matrimonial scheme than she used on Mr. Darcy – without the petticoat six inches deep in mud, of course?"
Elizabeth laughed openly. "Nothing gets by you, I see."
"Not in matters of fashion, I can assure you," Caroline said with just a touch of the impertinence Elizabeth was used to, and preferred, then continued, "It is obviously an old day dress, died black. Shall I suppose you are mourning your innocence and naivete, and not any actual formerly living person? You told me Mr. Darcy does not allow you to entertain. Being in mourning is the perfect excuse."
With a laugh, Elizabeth said, "You are correct. Nothing gets by you," then took a heavy sigh, and continued, "I can sympathize with your position. Has your brother abandoned you then?"
"Not as such, but he has given me more latitude – but made it clear he expects me to marry during the next season or set up my own establishment."
"Would that be so bad?" Elizabeth asked in genuine curiosity. At that moment, the idea of her own establishment, with the enormous amount of money Miss Bingley had in her dowry sounded quite attractive. The interest alone on Miss Bingley's dowry would be £800 per annum, or nearly as half as much as Longbourn generated.
Caroline looked thoughtful for quite some time.
"Perhaps it would not be so terrible, but I have not entirely given up on men, or on marrying somewhat well. Perhaps, between the two of us, we can scrape up one good sort of man."
Elizabeth laughed. "Perhaps," then noticed the tea was cold, so she rang a bell, and asked for some sandwiches and a bit of wine, adding, "I would invite you to dinner, but that would …"
Then she ducked her head in embarrassment, so Caroline filled in the rest.
"… violate your husband's explicit directions. You see …" then she paused herself, and continued, "… the conversation with my brother was on that exact topic. Your husband seemed entirely convinced that you had set the trap and he had walked right into it."
"You need not worry that you are telling me something I do not know. He was quite vocal in his belief on our wedding day, such as it was. I, like you, operate under a very tight leash."
"And you did not correct him?"
"I tried," Elizabeth sighed in disappointment, "but I would have had better luck turning back the tide."
"I could not hear the rest in detail, but there was quite a long discussion about how to deal with you. I do not know the details of what they discussed, but it sounded – unpleasant."
"I do – know the details – that is. He did not tell me himself, but his uncle admitted, after I guessed, that the idea of annulment was discussed, and not dismissed out of hand."
Caroline gasped, not having even considered such an abhorrent idea. "Do you believe he will?"
"I have no idea. He has been gone over five months now, without a word. Not a single note or letter, and his uncle either does not know where he is or will not tell me – with the former seeming quite unlikely. When he comes back, who knows? There are also a hundred ways for him to put me aside and continue on with a more amenable companion."
She thought a moment, sighed, and continued, "Frankly, so long as he does not leave me to starve in the hedgerows, I think I might prefer it – the annulment, or a mistress, that is."
"How would you live with the shame? You would likely never marry after that. He would recover in a couple of years, but you would not."
"No, I suppose not, but at least I would be rid of him, and able to live in peace."
Caroline looked skeptical. "What will you do when he comes back?"
Entirely surprised by the intimacy of the conversation, Elizabeth thought it was far too late to back down after all that had been said.
"I will explain my complete lack of any agency in his demise – exactly once. If he recants his 'mistake', then we shall see if we can find a way to live with each other. If he decides to put me aside or get an annulment or what have you – well, as you say, there is not a lot I can do about it, is there?"
Caroline said, "Is that not just a touch defeatist? You could woo him? I would never have admitted it before, but you are an attractive woman, and he is a handsome man. How hard could it be?"
"And have a man come to me out of lust or a desire for children, but who does not trust or respect me?"
Caroline thought quite a while, and finally said, "It sounds quite unattractive when you put it that way, I suppose. I imagine once you produce the required heir and spare, then he might mostly leave you alone. It would not be an unusual situation."
"Is that what you aspire to, Miss Bingley? I have already lived twenty years of a husband who does not respect his wife, and lives to make sport of her. I think that is enough for one lifetime."
Caroline thought pensively for some time, before finally sighing in uncertainty.
"I do not know. I believe there is such a thing as a love match. I even think my idiot brother might have one, but – I do not know if that is for the likes of me."
Elizabeth leaned across and squeezed her hand again. "I would hope you do not give up. It would be nice of one of us managed it. It would be a win for our side."
"And you think you cannot have that with your husband?"
Elizabeth stared at the far wall for quite some time, and finally sighed. "I suppose it is possible, but – but – but …" then finally, for the first time since the night she had learned of her betrothal, a tear fell from her eye, and she finally said, "… but I cannot see it, nor imagine how it might come about with the level of resentment and hostility we both harbor. It looms as a theoretical possibility that two people who do not even like or respect each other can eventually love each other, but the odds seem – daunting, if not impossible."
Caroline had the courtesy to look away as Elizabeth reached for a handkerchief to wipe her eye.
A moment later, Mrs. Darcy said entirely too brightly. "You mentioned you had a purpose for your visit."
Slightly shaken by the abrupt change but recognizing someone with the need to move on to another topic, she said, "I had not expected such – intimacy. I came to offer you a sort of …"
Elizabeth prompted. "… sort of?"
Caroline frowned, and finally said, "Now that I am obliged to say it aloud, it sounds – a bit vulgar."
"Private conversation, Miss Bingley."
Caroline paused a moment, and finally said, "Are you aware of how difficult a time you will have entering society as Mrs. Darcy?"
Puzzled, Elizabeth said, "Lord and Lady Matlock blathered on about it, and Mr. Bartlet, the bookseller, implied it might be difficult. I had not thought about it before that, but it sounds – unpleasant."
"It is. You will be thrown into the company of a band of cutthroat thieves. There will be the vindictive daughters that wanted a piece of your husband, their matchmaking mothers, their fortune hunting fathers, those who just like to cause pain, gossip mongers, and –"
"Peace," Elizabeth laughed, and then more soberly continued, "I believe I am getting the picture."
"The ton is full of undercurrents, that your husband might protect you from, if he is so inclined, and if he is aware of the dangers. His inclination might be in your favor, but his knowledge will be sorely inadequate. I fear he knows nothing about the society of women."
Elizabeth sighed. "As much as I hate to admit it, that makes sense. Have you a remedy?"
Caroline leaned forward emphatically. "Not a remedy as such, but an ally. I know an awful lot about the ton – who is nice, who is mean, who is vindictive, who is a gossip monger, who can be trusted, who must be avoided, and who is a ruthless social climber like me."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, but Caroline continued, "We are past pretending that an ox is a cow, are we not?"
"I suppose so," Elizabeth sighed, not looking forward to entering society in the least. She could always hope she could just make her home in Pemberley among the Lambton society, but that seemed like an absurd hope. Her husband would need to maintain the Darcy family's social status and power. It was part and parcel of being a landowner.
Caroline continued, "I would like to offer this. If you should happen to come to London to enter society, I will tell you everything I know about everyone I know. Forewarned is forearmed."
Elizabeth tipped her head in thought, and asked, "So what is the 'quo' part of this 'quid pro quo'. I suppose there is one?"
"All I ask is that you recognize me in public. If we are at the same venue at the same time, just talk to me as slightly more than an indifferent acquaintance. It will help my social position at no cost to yourself. I need not be your best friend, just someone you do not shun or ignore."
Quite surprised that the cost was so light, she offered her hand. "It is a bargain. I cannot promise that I will ever enter society, but if I do –"
Then she thought a minute. "Frankly, Miss Bingley, it seems a bit superfluous. My husband is more likely to keep his friendship with your brother than with me. You will automatically be recognized by the Darcys."
Caroline laughed. "You really have no idea. It is one thing to be recognized by Mr. Darcy, and something entirely else to be recognized by Mrs. Darcy. I assure you, there is value in it for me."
Puzzled by the whole bargain, Elizabeth said, "I will do more than that. You came here in good faith, probably in the knowledge that I did not like you, and that my husband could make things very difficult. You offered honesty and – dare I say it – friendship? When and if I ever make it to London, you can consider me a friend and act accordingly – for what it is worth."
Caroline smiled like the sun coming out after a cloudy day, and Elizabeth felt like she had done something worthwhile. It was possibly, aside from teaching Molly and Noah to read, the first truly worthwhile thing he had done as Mrs. Darcy. It bore some thought that she had accomplished just about nothing in her new position and did not seem likely to any time soon. It was a disheartening thought.
With a sigh, she said, "I suppose taking in a weary traveler who is well known to the Darcy's would not be considered 'entertaining'?"
Caroline laughed. "You would not entertain your husband's own uncle. I would not push my luck if I were you."
Disheartened by the thought, Elizabeth said, "No, I suppose that is wise, though I must own that it grates on my nerves."
"As the soldiers say, you need to keep your powder dry."
Elizabeth laughed. "What an unusual analogy. I do believe you have more depth than I had believed, Miss Bingley."
"I do try, Mrs. Darcy."
"Elizabeth"
Surprised, the lady replied, "Caroline."
Elizabeth looked around, and noticed the sun was approaching the horizon. She was entirely surprised to learn that Caroline had been there for close to two hours.
She finally said, "I think I can arrange for your carriage to be 'broken' for the night if you would care to stay, Caroline, but I will draw the line at dressing for dinner."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes, dead certain," Elizabeth said, wondering if that was the moment when she was going to quit whimpering and finally start taking charge of her own life.
She rang the bell pull for the butler and wondered if it would work. When he appeared, he imparted the appropriate instructions, and ordered the kitchen staff to prepare a proper formal meal – if they still remembered how.
After a wonderful dinner, that tasted like the kitchen was dying to impress the new mistress, and a good night's sleep, she saw her one and only true friend of her own station off in the morning, wondering when and if she would ever see her again.
