The next two days for Elizabeth were what she would eventually consider the second and third most aggravating days of her life, and she had to dig all the way back to Ramsgate to find one to top them. Mr. Collins had all the staying power of a medicinal leech, with none of the healing properties. No matter where she went, or what she did, she found the man either beside her or hovering about. She would have thought that her assertion that spending £800 on windows was frivolous or naïve would have put the man off, but it was not to be.
By the time luncheon was finished on Thursday, she was seriously rethinking her desire to be polite and kind to everyone. She had already tried several tacks like she had applied to Miss Bingley at the card table, but unfortunately, Mr. Collins was so dense that he did not even comprehend the chastisement. She had even taken a few runs at Lady Catherine de Bourgh's judgment, but Mr. Collins simply 'corrected' her and carried on.
She was just about to scream when Hill announced the anticipated visitors.
"Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst"
Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst entered the room looking much like the haughty ladies of the Meryton assembly, until Elizabeth mouthed the word 'truce' where Caroline could see it. She was somewhat surprised when Miss Bingley broke into a smile and a laugh, and she wondered if the lady had been having it on with her.
Elizabeth had arranged for Charlotte to visit, and that lady arrived not five minutes later, so the group was able to expel Mr. Collins from their midst quite handily.
Miss Bingley asked, "Who is that…?", at which point she tapered off, trying to find the vocabulary to finish the sentence.
The Bennet ladies were quite happy to assist when necessary, so Lydia hopefully added, "Odd creature?"
"I was not planning to say that."
"But you were thinking it?"
"Well, I admit it."
Both Bingley sisters burst into a fit of laughter that was as surprising as anything that had happened that week, and within a few minutes the ladies were discussing Mr. Collins with all the aplomb of a few gossipy old men with nothing better to do.
Tea was served and that occupied all the ladies for a quarter‑hour.
Miss Bingley finally asked, "Miss Lucas, Miss Elizabeth suggested you might help me with my needlework. I have a portion that is trying my patience to the limit."
"It would be my pleasure, Miss Bingley. You are aware of course that Eliza's needlework is so atrociously bad she has no right to even express an opinion?"
Caroline Bingley looked at Elizabeth and raised a questioning eyebrow.
Elizabeth smiled and acknowledged the hit, and simply nodded her permission to the lady.
Miss Bingley asked, "Do all of your friends call you 'Eliza'?"
Elizabeth smiled at the question, and replied, "Not really. Everyone in my family calls me 'Lizzy'. The only ones allowed to use 'Eliza' are the Lucas family and you."
Miss Bingley nearly choked on her tea at the inference, but suppressed it quickly and responded, "Well, I am happy to join their company. You are the only one that calls me 'Lina'."
Elizabeth had her own difficulties sputtering in her tea, and the ever‑helpful Lydia slapped her on the back a few times, though fortunately with less vigor than she had used on their hapless cousin.
Elizabeth wondered just how in the world this odd transformation in their relationship had come about but was not going to question her good fortune. Somehow, she had scratched below the prickly surface of Miss Caroline Bingley and found someone softer and altogether nicer inside. She thought it would probably be for the best if she learned to disregard first impressions altogether.
Caroline Bingley found herself in quite an odd position. All her life she had found that she had to fight tooth and nail for every morsel of acceptance. When she was young, her father was a none‑too‑prosperous tradesman who worked from dawn to dusk and then some. He rarely paid any real attention to his wife and son, and none at all to his daughters.
Mr. Bingley always lived in neighborhoods slightly better than he could truly afford, because he thought, correctly as it turned out, that to move up in the world, he had to claw his way up with his own hands. This always left his children in places where they were at the bottom of the local social order, being both poorer than their neighbors, and recent additions besides.
As the war with Napoleon raged on, Mr. Bingley found his niche in the sailcloth market, and through working himself to the bone day and night for years, had amassed a sizable fortune. With success though, came the constant need to move himself and his family up in the world. Like any reasonably successful man, he wanted his children and grandchildren to have a better life than he had, and his ultimate objective was to one day purchase an estate and become a landed gentleman.
Once he had the taste of success, he slowed down just long enough to notice that his little girls were not so little anymore, so he asked the men of his recent acquaintance how to see they were educated. The best school and seminary he could afford was selected, so his girls then went off to yet another place where acceptance of newcomers was rare, and never without extreme pain. Ladies higher up the social pecking order always wanted to keep their hands clean, so they would let a newcomer into the ranks, or at least pretend to, in exchange for certain 'favors'. Caroline became a bit of a master at the game, but always found true acceptance just outside of her grasp. She could never quite get away from the 'stench of trade' or the status of 'new money'.
After school, she followed her father's example, and tried to claw her way up to the higher circles. She in truth had no idea quite why she wanted to do it, but because it was her father's dream, following it seemed the only way to somehow forge a connection to a father who had been absent more than present.
Meeting Mr. Darcy of Pemberley had shown her a way that she thought she could finally get what she had been hoping for all her life, and she set out to get it using the ruthless efficiency she had been taught at her father's (absent) knee and the best seminary he could afford.
Her brother's lease of an estate threw her into complete disarray. Suddenly, she was in a social circle where she could be at the top of the food chain with her father's wealth, but she was entirely too much of a big fish in a small pond. She could never be comfortable in Hertfordshire, because she could not see any way it could advance her as her father had desired. It was the one belief that she held in absolute conviction, and she set about with zeal to reverse the decision using every trick she had been taught.
Then came the thing that upset her more than anything she had ever encountered in her life. It would have been easy enough to laugh off and go on as before, just like all her other difficulties, but it was just too astounding… too difficult to understand… too unexpected. Caroline Bingley did not have the slightest idea what to do when she found that Elizabeth and Jane Bennet were genuinely kind to her, even after quite a lot of provocation. The ladies appeared to like her just fine, just the way she was, and expected nothing more from her than friendship. Yes, Elizabeth could deliver a blistering setdown without a single unkind word, but she had to admit it was well deserved, and Eliza had recanted not two days later.
Caroline Bingley did not have the vaguest idea how to reconcile their behavior with her understanding of the world.
A few hours into the afternoon, Charlotte had amazed both Bingley sisters with her superior skills at needlepoint, and then completely ruined the effect by showing them how easy it was to do. Of course, 'easy' was a relative term, the same stitch was trivial for Jane or Charlotte, but impossible for Elizabeth or Kitty. Mary and Lydia fell somewhere between the two extremes, and the Bingley sisters fell in with the most skilled of the Meryton ladies.
Near the end of an afternoon well spent, about an hour before time for them to change for dinner, Elizabeth suggested a walk in the garden. She was somewhat surprised that the only taker was Miss Bingley, but not disappointed. They had never taken any time to talk together after their unusual encounter on the steps of Netherfield, and this seemed a good opportunity.
As they walked out, Elizabeth noticed that Miss Bingley was not overly comfortable with silence, but did not quite know what to say, so she began.
"Miss Bingley, were you serious that you would like me to call you 'Lina'. It is an unusual diminutive, and I like it, but I would not want to make you uncomfortable."
Lina looked back at her, sighed and said, "Louisa used to call me that when we were children. I confess, I have not heard the name in many years, but it just seemed right at the time."
"So, Mrs. Hurst no longer uses it?"
"No, she and Charles call me 'Caroline'."
"Are you sure you do not mind."
"I am certain, Eliza."
Though in strict terms neither had given the other permission to drop the 'Miss', it was obvious that it would sound silly with those two nicknames.
They walked on in silence for some minutes, and Elizabeth noticed that Lina seemed to be getting accustomed to the silence, so she gave her some time to learn to enjoy it.
After a time, she asked, "Do you walk very much, Lina?"
"No, never. They taught us at seminary that it was unladylike. It would make us dirty, or brown and coarse like a field hand."
Eliza just laughed, and said, "You are giving up one of the best things in life, that is both free and readily available anywhere you go. I highly recommend it. Nobody worth knowing will care a whit if you are a bit dirty or tanned."
"Perhaps."
They walked on in silence some more, and Elizabeth asked her new friend about her life. It took nearly an hour of rambling the woods to get it all out, and the whole thing left Elizabeth feeling horrified. Say what you will about the manners and decorousness of the Bennets, but everyone in the family mostly loved each other most of the time, and all their neighbors knew and understood them. The Bingley's upbringing seemed to be carefully designed to create lonely and unhappy people, and Elizabeth felt some real sympathy for the heiress. No amount of money was going to assuage the hole in her heart, and unfortunately, Lina did not appear to have the vaguest idea how to address it. So much of her earlier behavior now made perfect sense.
Elizabeth wondered how far to push the relationship and decided to take a risk. Mr. Darcy had been willing to climb out on quite a few limbs in their association, so she thought maybe she could be just as brave.
"Lina, may I suggest an idea you will probably find peculiar?"
"Of course."
Caroline Bingley had never in her entire life become truly intimate with another human except her sister, and she was sometimes skeptical of her relationship with her sister as well.
"You may find this an odd statement, but in some ways, you and I are more or less equals."
Caroline Bingley was tempted to throw up her hands and argue the point but held her peace just to see what would happen.
Finally, she asked, "How so?"
"Well… There are many ways. For one, we are both just ordinary daughters, with everything we have being inherited. Neither of us have done anything of any real note on our own merits aside from working for the usual accomplishments. We are as our parents left us, would you agree?"
The idea of entertaining these painful thoughts was a new and not especially pleasant reality for Caroline, but she dutifully conceded that her friend might be right. She could not actually say it, but she did nod her head.
Elizabeth continued, "We were both raised to learn 'accomplishments'. You play better than I, and you are probably better at the modern languages. I have done more extensive reading and have a better mastery of ancient tongues. You have a seminary education, and I know all about the workings of an estate. These all seem to about even out."
Caroline thought about it a bit, and sheepishly nodded.
"There is also our standing. You are far richer than I, through no merit on your part or detriment on mine. I was born into the gentry through no merit of my own nor any deficit in you. Some members of society would consider me to be above you and some would consider you above me. I believe overall, our standing is just about equal."
This thought was exceedingly painful, and all the years of 'stench of trade' came rushing back to the lady all at once, but she blinked back the tears and said, "Yes, I suppose you are right. I never thought about it that way, but it does make a warped sort of sense. I really thought I was above you when I arrived, but I can see what you say has merit. I was opposed to my brother courting your sister at first, but if she is a gentlewoman, she would raise his status, not lower it. He might aspire to marry higher, but then he would have to overcome the roots of his fortune."
Elizabeth reached over and took the lady's arm, and replied, "I must confess, I thought you quite high on the instep when you arrived but find you very endearing at the moment."
Lina put her hand over Eliza's for and squeezed it for a moment, then they walked a few more minutes in silence, this time both less awkward, but still carrying a bit of tension.
Finally, Caroline asked, "That could not have been your last point, Eliza. You may as well get the rest of it out."
Elizabeth sighed, and replied, "There is one last place where we are absolutely equal. Neither of us will ever be the Mistress of Pemberley."
Caroline gasped and went to pull her arm away, but Elizabeth hung fast and added, "Please, Lina. I say this not to hurt you, but to free you!"
Lina stopped struggling and stood stock still, then stared at her companion and barked, "Explain!"
Elizabeth looked at her carefully, and said, "I believe you have ambition to become Mrs. Darcy. Have I misread the signs?"
Her friend sighed, and said, "No, you have not. Ever since he became mostly inseparable from my brother, I have been holding that hope, although the gentleman has given me scant encouragement… in fact, if I am honest, I would say he has given me the opposite."
Wondering how much pain the lady must have experienced, longing for something she thought she wanted so badly, but had no idea how to obtain, Elizabeth's heart went out to her.
"Lina, my aunt grew up five miles from his estate and wrote to me about him. The gentleman is nephew of an Earl on one side and a judge on the other. His mother was Lady Anne Fitzwilliam. He is master of the largest estate in Derbyshire, five times the size of Longbourn, and his family has held it for centuries. He can choose a wife from the first circles. A daughter of a peer is well within his grasp. Why would he choose a penniless daughter of a minor country squire with middling accomplishments, or a tradesman's daughter with no experience being mistress of an estate. He would have to fall in love beyond all reason to even entertain the idea of either of us for matrimony, and we both know that is extremely unlikely."
Lina replied, "Believe that if you like Eliza. You are absolutely correct about me, but I am not quite so convinced about you."
Eliza sighed, and said, "No, Lina, you misjudge the man. He is an honorable and true gentleman… perhaps the best I have ever known. He was abominably downright offensive to me the first night he was here, and it took a good verbal thrashing from your brother to bring him around. Since then, he has simply been making amends. He would never offer for me, and if he did, I would never accept."
Her friend gasped at that suggestion, and it was quite some time before she could speak again.
"You would decline? Truly! Decline?"
"Yes. I will not tell you all my reasons, but I do have them. I can tell you that I would never fit into his world, and even if I could… well, let us just say I do not aspire to it."
"I do not understand."
Elizabeth sighed, and tried to get her muddled thoughts together.
"Let us say, and I am making no predictions here, that my sister and your brother make a go of it. That would be a good match. Your brother would gain a gently born wife, who is well trained in the responsibilities as mistress of an estate. There is more to know than you might think. Jane has the skills, and already knows all the Netherfield tenants. My sister would gain a good husband, and a secure future. Both are elevated by the marriage; would you not agree?"
Caroline had been adamantly opposed to the union, but when it was put that way, well…
"I can see your point, and it is correct. Perhaps my brother could do better by marrying slightly higher into the gentry, but your sister would be a good match for him if they get on well."
She was as surprised by the words as Elizabeth was, so had to suffix it with, "… I think."
Elizabeth nodded, and carried on.
"Suppose I marry a blacksmith, butcher or small farmer?"
That required no thought at all.
"He would be elevated but it would do him no real good, as you probably lack some of the skills necessary for that life, and he would still be in the same station he was born to. You on the other hand would be degraded considerably, and your children and grandchildren would pay for it. You would never do that unless you were desperate."
"I agree. While there is nothing wrong with any of those occupations, and I do not look down on them, but neither would any of those be considered a good match for me. I could also argue that it would not be a good match for the man either."
Both ladies nodded a few times, and then, Caroline took up the narrative.
"So, you think Mr. Darcy marrying you would be a degradation for him?"
"Yes… Well, perhaps not a degradation per se, but not a good match. I would imagine his sister must have an enormous dowry… maybe £30,000 or more. He will have to replace that, and a suitable wife could do so easily. More importantly though, a proper wife would have the connections a man of that station needs. Families pass wealth and influence down through the generations. Mr. Darcy received both from his parents, and he should do the same for his children."
"Aha!", Lina exclaimed, and asked, "But, let me ask you this. What if the gentleman does not want connections and influence? What if he just wants a nice wife to keep his home and raise his children?"
Elizabeth laughed, and said, "I see your point, but he can have that, and all the rest."
"Yes, yes, he can. But if he is such a powerful man, what if he chooses to forego all that. Why could he not choose one of us, just to demonstrate his power?"
Elizabeth laughed at that, but then grew more serious.
"Even if it were so, I would not want to spend my life believing I brought a great man down. It is not for me, to wonder about my worthiness. Would the passion at the beginning outweigh the niggling doubts that accumulate over the years? No, Lina, I know how it shall be. He will not offer, and I would not accept. Neither of us are fated to be Mrs. Darcy."
Both walked along in silence for some minutes, both disturbed by the assertion, but both feeling the beginning of something. Perhaps, as Eliza had asserted it was the beginning of freedom… or perhaps, it was just the start of a hungry stomach, since it was well past time to get back to Longbourn and dress for dinner.
Dinner went as well as could be expected. Caroline found a certain amount of pleasure in trying to get Mr. Collins to say ridiculous things, even though that was so easy it could not properly be called sport. She had lost quite a lot of the hard edge that had been observed in the first few weeks in the county, and the Bennets were finding that beneath the surface, there was a sense of humor just waiting to escape. Mr. Bennet especially enjoyed his interactions with the young lady, and vastly approved of their association. In fact, he enjoyed the young lady's company enough to forfeit the separation of sexes, so he could exchange his cousin's blathering for listening to his daughters' new friend play on the pianoforte. Jane could not have been happier.
Elizabeth, seeing the change in her new friend, started revising her opinion. She still thought it extremely unlikely that Mr. Darcy would choose either of them as a bride, but she began to think that if the gentleman chose Miss Bingley, it might not be quite the road to misery that she would have imagined. She thought that there was much more to Caroline Bingley than met the eye and was somewhat curious herself to see what could be found.
Quite unknown to her, Miss Bingley was beginning to question exactly what she had seen in the taciturn gentleman from Derbyshire in the first place. In her heart, she had already decided that she first needed to find her own place in the world, and not sit around waiting for a husband to make it for her. For the first time in her life, she felt a few links of the chains that bound her to her past breaking under the strain, and she could not wait to sweep the others aside.