Chapter two

It was only a couple of days later, as Edward had predicted, that he and Mr. Bennet had the pleasure of Mr. Bingley's company again. He made the call alone, and although Edward was expecting it and would not say anything about it to Jane, he could only feel that his first impression of Mr. Darcy would continue to confirm itself if left to its own devices.

Mr. Bingley was in good spirits—again, Edward felt that their first meeting was representative of their respective characters—and not only reiterated the invitation for an afternoon of shooting, but pressed it, in what Edward felt was the most charming manner.

'You must come! We plan to go out the day after tomorrow as I have to go into London in the interim. We are only Darcy and myself, as my brother-in-law usually prefers the indoors. Darcy is lately in such a dreadful humour that I am sure only our combined efforts would be able to overcome it.'

Though Edward had no particular wish to do anything with Darcy's humour but ignore it, he acquiesced almost immediately, as he had never thought to decline. He had been looking forward to it and furthermore, it was out of his power to deny the amiable Mr. Bingley anything.

They were then alone in the library, Mr. Bennet having left them at their own devices after tiring of the interminable talk of horses. Bingley was inordinately pleased with a mare he had lately obtained for his sister, and parallels had to be drawn between the animal and all the others that either of them had ever owned.

'I do think she is a better choice for Caroline than the last gelding she owned. It was a much larger animal…' Bingley's voice trailed off, and the stupidest smile Edward had ever seen graced his face.

With a sinking feeling, Edward turned around to find before him a most charming picture: through the window, Jane could be observed collecting roses from the garden. Both the light and the occupation served to show her at her most attractive; if Jane had not been already a beautiful young lady, the situation would have depicted her so.

Edward waited impatiently for Mr. Bingley to return to his senses, until not a moment too soon he appeared to snap out of his daze and sheepishly return his attention to his host.

Not a person to rejoice in being ungracious with his fellow man, Edward offered with a smile, 'She is my sister, Jane; if you are so inclined, I could probably manage an introduction.'

The fact that his sister would appreciate the new acquaintance was the only thing that spurred him forward. Despite his jokes, or perhaps because of them, he had the inkling that it was, indeed, a most momentous meeting. They would fall in love, and Mr. Bingley would carry Jane away from him. The only positive thing about it was the fact that not only Bingley was a pleasant fellow, but he hopefully would not carry her farther than Netherfield.

Bingley agreed most readily to the introduction, and Edward, hoping to derive at least a little amusement from it, decided to go out to the garden to meet her, instead of sending for her with a servant. The only sure way of discerning his sister's first reaction to the gentleman would be to catch her unawares.

To Edward's immense disappointment, Jane was only imperceptibly discomfited when the gentlemen approached her. She did blush a little when Mr. Bingley asked for the first dance at the Meryton Assembly—scheduled for more than a week later—and she could not stop smiling even after the gentleman made his excuses and went home, which proved to be ammunition enough for her brother when he returned to her side.

He basked in the still warm autumn sun for a while before speaking.

'So, Jane, is my friend to your liking? Can I rest easy and warn Mr. Darcy away before he sets his eyes on you?'

Jane made as if to ignore him and continued filling her basket with flowers, but Edward could not let the matter stand.

'You may cease attempting to turn that pretty smile into a frown, sister, as 'tis quite impossible for you. Speak to me. After all, I am not only teasing you! Is not Mr. Bingley a pleasing man? I do not think you could find a much pleasanter gentleman without him being a great fool as well, and Mr. Bingley is no fool, I assure you.'

That, at last, got an answer from her, delivered with her eyes still on the long stems of the rose bush.

'I do have your leave to like him, then?'

'I have yet to meet a person you do not like, but if that blush was anything to go by, then I will answer that yes, you do have my leave to like him, as if it were not too late already to prevent you; or, indeed, if I dared to stop you.'

'I have yet to know of something you do not dare do, Edward.' His sister's voice was warm with amusement.

'Well, there you have it, then; I do not dare to put myself between you and your considerable kindness towards the rest of your fellow human beings. Though, as I said before, you cannot distract me from the fact that it cannot be mere kindness that makes you like Mr. Bingley. There was a telling blush staining this maiden's alabaster cheek just now, and you will not be able to make me forget it.'

'You never forget anything. Edward, behave; do be serious for a change. Are you going to befriend Mr. Bingley? I do think it a good idea. You must tire of the talk of lace and gossip. Even of my father's books, I am sure you have by now had your fill. Mr. Bingley seems a very good sort of man, and he is nearer your age than any of the other gentlemen of the neighbourhood; he is sure to do you good.'

'You overestimate gentlemen's habits of conversation, sister. I am certain there is quite a bit of gossip going on in those as well. But you are right, of course. Having someone to go hunting with–someone who enjoys it instead of putting up with it for my sake–will be a pleasant change.'

'So you will go out with him this week?'

'Yes, I will, in two days' time. And if you are good, which you are sure to be, I will try to bring Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy both along later; you will finally see them side to side and compare them at your leisure. Perhaps after that you will be able to set my mind at ease and choose the most agreeable one.'

'You make it sound as if they were both mine to choose, Edward.'

Her sedateness was discouraging, and Edward found himself almost wishing for the confusion that love would certainly bring her. He missed those days when she would blush after even the most innocent teasing. The way the years had inured her to it was frustrating to say the least. It spurred him on to being more and more outrageous.

'One of them is yours for sure already, and despite anything my father will say, I am certain that if anything is capable of bringing the proud Mr. Darcy to his knees, it is your beauty.'

She did blush then, profusely, and her voice had a hint of pleading when she said, 'But I have no desire of bringing anyone to his knees, Edward. What is the problem? Are you so desirous of my being gone already?'

He was kissing her hand in an instant, regretful.

'Oh, Jane, do excuse me. I do tend to say the most stupid things when I want to get a reaction out of you. I am in the most strange of humours lately. You must know that I do not desire you gone; it is quite the opposite, actually. Come, let me carry that for you. Let me keep you company while you arrange your flowers. I have not helped you in a while.'

'A while! Several years… Well, then, you carry it, but keep away from the flowers. You were never very good at it, and it is not a very appropriate occupation for a gentleman anyway.'

They proceeded into the house, where Jane set to work filling several vases with artfully arranged roses. She alternated between paying attention to her work and casting tender looks at him, and when she finished, she asked him to help her distribute them through the house.

The perfume in the shadier interior of the house brought to Edward's mind happy childhood memories of afternoons spent helping Jane make rose water and of the laugh filled conversations they used to have while they worked, but they did not cheer him; he felt grimmer than ever.

They finished in his room, where she placed the largest and more cheerful of the bouquets. She turned then to him, suddenly saying, 'Edward, you do know that you will always be the dearest person in the world to me, don't you? Even if I marry, you will be always welcome in my home.'

'I appreciate the sentiment, Jane, but I am afraid that my welcome would be the prerogative of your husband.'

Edward almost flinched at how bitter his voice had sounded.

'I would never marry someone that could not love you as well. And besides, you make it sound as if you will be all alone in the world, while I am quite sure that the second some pretty young lady catches your eye, you will forget everything about your older sister.'

'No, Jane. I do not think I will ever marry.'

'Never marry? You cannot be serious! You are quite handsome, and although sometimes you do seem too witty for everyone's sakes, I daresay there must be some women that can appreciate it. My father married, after all.'

Her teasing smile finally coaxed one from him, and he felt it hovering on his lips despite himself. He was not made for gloomy thoughts.

'No, sister, 'tis you; you have set such an unprecedented standard that no woman can hope to reach it, not to mention surpass it. No, I will remain single, and kidnap my nephews and nieces every once in a while, and spoil them rotten.'

'It will be a very happy day indeed when I will be able to relate these same words to your wife, Edward, or even to your children. Even you will be able to laugh about it then.'

'If indeed that were to happen, then I would find it amusing now. I can laugh at myself, you know…But I am quite determined, and you will have to agree with me on this. I am not fit for marrying.'

'Not yet, perhaps, but I am tempted to tell my father you need a season in town.'

'You think the city air will do me good?' asked Edward laughingly.

'No, indeed, I think that some broader society would. The new neighbours are a beginning, but if they do not work in bringing you to your senses, then I am afraid I will have to act.'

'You make me sound positively wild, sister. I do think you want me to have some more contact with fashionable ladies, with all that talk of 'broader society'.'

'You have said it, not I. But yes, I do think it would do you good. It is a shame the Netherfield party does not have any ladies.'

'Have I forgotten to mention it? How remiss of me. There are, in fact, two ladies now residing in the manor house of Netherfield. Both are sisters of Mr. Bingley; Miss Bingley is to keep house for her brother and Mrs. Hurst is visiting, along with her husband.'

Jane's voice was as sly as he had ever heard it. 'It is most curious. Anyone would say that the presence of ladies would be one of the first things you would relate to your sister. Have you seen them?'

'Now I can see, you are suspecting something, Jane. I will not allow it. There is no conclusion at all to be drawn of this most trifling oversight on my part. I have yet to meet any of them, so you can erase that smug look from your face before you say anything.'

'Oh, you may cease being so defensive this instant. I have the right to tease you a little, you know, after all that you make me suffer every time I meet a gentleman, or even every time you meet a gentleman. You must allow me to have a little fun. Besides, you like the brother well enough, who is to say that you will not like the sisters?'

'They cannot be as agreeable as he. We have daily proof of this; you and I, sister, cannot be more different.'

'You think so?' Jane was smiling at him most innocently before continuing, 'But you will not distract me from my subject. Be the sisters as unlike Mr. Bingley as you and I are, you can still like them very much. Indeed, I have never thought you matched with anyone resembling my character.'

'How many times have you thought of matching me?' asked Edward, alarmed. 'I can, perhaps, like them; we are still to meet them, so any further speculation is useless. In any case I like plenty of people, if not as many as you do, and I do not love anyone except you and our own dear father. I will carry my point in the end. Mark my words: I shall never marry.'

'Oh, Edward, you can be as mulish as you wish if it makes you happy,' said Jane, smiling. She then kissed his cheek and retired from the room—it was the first time Jane did not finish a discussion by agreeing with him.