This chapter is dedicated to sljh85 and Maria Teresa C; I may not be responding to reviews these days, but I gleefully read each one. Thank you so much for taking the time to write so much. Your caring and interest made me wish to work on the next chapter right away. It may have taken me a while to perfect this all, but I hope you enjoy.
32. Taking Tea and Visiting Mr. Bennet
I was lost for several moments in my bemusement that my stern friend had apparently found a love for which it was worth sacrificing all dignity and better sense. There was no other explanation for him choosing to behave in such a manner.
I recalled how Darcy had joined with my sisters in discouraging me from pursuing Miss Bennet due to her lack of consequence and lack of affection for me. I believed him to be sincere. But it seemed an irony, for the status of the Bennet family had fallen further with the downfall of Miss Lydia and I could recall nothing from our shared time in Hertfordshire that made it probable or even possible that Miss Elizabeth held him any great regard. Yes, she had enjoyed a good debate with him and while for him that might have been the equivalent of dipping a girl's braid in a pot of ink to show his affection, I did not think her opposition to represent any kind of affection in return.
I wondered if something might have changed betwixt them when they both met in Kent, but if it had, why was it that Colonel Fitzwilliam had decided to pursue her? Was it not probable that a cousin, who was like to a brother for my friend, would or should have found out the true state of things? I just hoped that the Colonel was not too disappointed and resolved to write him once I had a place to lay my head and could obtain the needed supplies. I had traveled lightly as I was riding and had not wanted to inconvenience my sisters by taking the carriage.
I shook my head, trying to imagine how Darcy had come overcome what must have been many doubts and hesitations to propose to Miss Elizabeth. While I could well understand how she might have accepted him for the benefit of her family (and was not it well justified to escape penury?), would he really chose to enter into a marriage of unequal affections? But his plan must have been closely guarded, for why else would Colonel Fitzwilliam have borrowed money from me to pursue Miss Elizabeth, who was now Mrs. Darcy? Could some rivalry with the Colonel have spurred Darcy on? If not, why had Darcy acted so precipitously without so much as a word to me or to his cousin?
I glanced up and saw that the women (Miss Bennet, Mrs. Bennet and Miss Catherine) were all looking at me as if awaiting an answer. Had a question been asked of me? Or perhaps they were only waiting to hear my response to the fact that Darcy had married Miss Elizabeth. Hoping it was the later, I commented "I am very pleased for them, certainly."
The tea and biscuits arrived just then and Mrs. Bennet began arranging things as if to serve, but paused before pouring the first cup to add "Yes, yes, I am sure we are all very pleased, even if Mr. Darcy has been rather high-handed in arranging our lives to suit his own purposes. Imagine, deciding without so much as a by your leave that we must all relocate to Bath." Mrs. Bennet retrieved a black fan from her reticule and fluttered it with an anxious twisting motion of her wrist, the tea apparently forgotten. As I was rather parched from the road, I hoped she would not delay in overlong in pouring.
As Mrs. Bennet was beside me, and fluttered her fan more at me than at herself, the results of this should not have been a surprise, but bothered me immensely none-the-less. For the breeze she created dislodged some dust from my person which floated around and made me all too aware of my unkempt state.
"Oh how distressing it all is!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, apparently speaking of her impending relocation, and with another large gesture of her hand fanned the floating moats and whatever other smaller bits there may have been in Miss Catherine's direction.
As a likely result of the dust, Miss Catherine coughed several times and then sneezed twice, to my embarrassment and dismay. But rather than hurry to pour and provide Miss Catherine with some tea to remedy her distress, Mrs. Bennet declared crossly "Kitty, why do you vex me so by coughing and sneezing?"
"Mamma," Miss Bennet rejoined gently, "it is not her fault." Indeed, I silently agreed, for I had provided the dust and Mrs. Bennet the means of sending it in Miss Catherine's direction.
"As for Mr. Darcy," Miss Bennet continued, "we should be grateful that he is doing so much for us. He has been most generous, arranging for our accommodations here, securing us a house in Bath. He did consult with Mr. Phillips, after all, and he is just trying to help us regain our dignity."
"Well why should he not be generous?" Mrs. Bennet fanned both herself and me both, and more dust flew about. Miss Catherine reddened but held a handkerchief over her nose and mouth, either attempting to filter out the bits of dust or attempting to stifle any threatened cough or sneeze.
Still oblivious to the havoc she had wrought with her fan, Mrs. Bennet proclaimed "He has ten thousand a year and likely more. It is not as if he, his sister and Lizzy can spend it all. We are his family now, after all. I just do not understand why he could not buy one of the local properties for us, or arrange for us to lease Longbourn. I do not want to go far away where I do not know anyone."
"I have always wished to see the sea," Miss Catherine, who must have finally deemed it safe to speak, croaked out quietly, but was ignored by her mother who continued on as if her daughter had not spoken. Meanwhile, Miss Bennet had maneuvered the tea pot away from her mother, poured and served Miss Catherine the first cup. Miss Catherine smiled appreciatively at her sister as she sipped and my heart swelled in seeing how Miss Bennet cared for her sister.
It was not, in truth, correct to serve her younger sister first. Courtesy had demanded that I be served first as their guest, but I did not mind that I would get a later cup. Seeking to alleviate Miss Catherine's distress was the kindest thing to do. Undoubtedly, Miss Bennet would be a fine wife and mother.
"I wish to stay here!" Mrs. Bennet pronounced firmly in a petulant voice that recalled to me Miss Lydia's tone when her mother ordered her up the stairs. She banged on the oak table with her folded up fan twice for emphasis.
"Mamma, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Phillips are simply trying to help." Miss Bennet repeated, pausing from pouring the next cup and laying a hand on her mother's arm to comfort her.
"It was very badly done." Mrs. Bennet jerked her arm away and scraped her chair closer to my chair in a huff. Miss Bennet slid a cup within her mother's reach and then began on another cup, likely one for me.
Perhaps then recalling my presence, Mrs. Bennet said "Oh, Mr. Bingley, I do not want to go and if you are returned to Netherfield, you shall not want my Jane so far away, either. Is not my Jane still everything beautiful and charming? I knew the reports that you would give up Netherfield entirely were false, for you had grown very much attached to the neighborhood and your new friends. We had all been anticipating a happy announcement and while others thought you had scorned my daughter, it is clear now that you were only delayed. Surely now everything will continue on to the natural conclusion we all anticipated."
Mrs. Bennet nodded as if that were the last word on the subject. I felt embarrassed and Miss Bennet seemed distressed as well. She passed me my cup without meeting my eyes and did not acknowledge my word of thanks. I took a moment to sip the hot brew, to let its warmth soothe my throat, cogitate further.
I looked at Miss Bennet, spoke just to her as I responded to the implied question made to me, "I certainly would rather have Miss Bennet remain here if I was only consulting my own wishes, indeed I had always intended to return from town, but I can understand why Darcy has acted as he has, given recent events." By this I alluded to Miss Lydia's downfall indirectly.
This answer must have satisfied Mrs. Bennet, for she then proceeded on to ask "But shall it be truly just you, Mr. Bingley, rattling about in such a large house? Are your sisters not come as well? Do you not long for the proper company that a wife and her family might bring?"
By this, Mrs. Bennet seemed to be hinting that should I propose and marry her daughter that they all might move into Netherfield with me. As patient as I was currently attempting to be with Mrs. Bennet, this idea did not suit me at all. While I had imagined making Miss Bennet my bride, taking her to wife and occupying Netherfield with her, I had never imagined becoming the head of a household comprised of all the Bennet women. Even my generosity and charity had limits, could not extend so far. I felt that Darcy had the right idea, that sending them away would be to their benefit, that they might establish themselves somewhere that no one knew of the scandal.
In truth, though Lydia was quite young, the most respectable thing for her to do would be to marry. Perhaps as a young widow she might find a steady man looking for a wife in Bath.
What further response I might have made, I do not know, for just then Miss Lydia entered the common room, a baby in her arms, and Miss Mary came trailing after her, her pinched mouth showing her distress. "I must have my share of tea and biscuits, too!" Miss Lydia announced. "Move, Kitty!"
"I am sorry, Mamma," Mary rejoined. "She was unwilling to stay once little George was done."
I had risen upon their entry as a gentleman is expected to do, so when Kitty vacated her seat I fetched additional chairs for her and Miss Mary and then inquired of the serving man as to additional tea cups and tea.
When I returned to my seat, Miss Lydia held her baby up and said "Look Mr. Bingley, look at my son, Little George. He favors his father Colonel Wickham so. Is he not the most handsome child you have ever seen?"
Her mother added, "Yes, indeed, it is he who should have inherited Longbourn. A grandson is a most appropriate heir, rather than some distant cousin and his ugly daughter."
The other daughters hardly reacted to their words, but for Miss Bennet looking down, Miss Mary shaking her head slightly, and Miss Catherine drawing her shoulders in. From this reaction, I gathered they had heard such pronouncements before.
I could not fathom what polite rejoinder I should make to either one or the other. I could not believe that even now Miss Lydia was brazenly bringing her fatherless son about for any and all to see, demanding compliments for him.
The respectable thing would have been to keep him hidden away, hope that "out of sight, out of mind" would prove at least partially effective, allow the gossip to die down. But that could not possibly occur if she took him about for all to see. In seeing the child they might have confirmation of her sinful nature. For it would have been bad enough for any and all to think he was Mr. Wickham's natural born child, but as little as any father can be seen in a child so young, I saw in him confirmation that as Sir William had opined, he was no son of that man. He instead was proof that she had lain with at least two men and most probably more.
I doubted then that any respectable man would marry Miss Lydia. Most men would most reasonably fear that a wife with such licentious ways would find lovers and present him with their offspring which would have his name and be his responsibility.
As for Mrs. Bennet, did she not understand the full shame of having a grandson who had no name or how a entail worked? Even a legitimate grandson could have never inherited unless there were no other male heirs at all and his mother was the eldest child of the last master.
I made no reply as there was no polite response I could make that would not be a lie. I just sipped at my tea and then ate a biscuit, in essence pretending I was deaf, but I felt shamed by my silence. Fortunately, Miss Mary decided of her own volition to rescue me from the full awkwardness of this moment, for she said "Mamma, are we not due to visit our Aunt Phillips?"
"Oh, yes indeed," her mother rejoined, "if we have all had enough tea. Now Mr. Bingley, you must surely accompany us all. Mrs. Phillips and I will help you get Netherfield open again, for between the two of us we shall help you hire staff."
"I would be most obliged," I said, meaning it.
It took several minutes for all of us to be willing to depart, for Miss Lydia insisted on drinking her tea and eating several biscuits. No sooner had we exited the inn, the large bustling group of us all, when Miss Mary whispered in Miss Bennet's ear, Miss Bennet nodded and then asked her mother, "May I visit Papa instead? Mary and I both wish to go."
Mrs. Bennet wrung her hands and then looked at me. "Mr. Bingley, would you be so good as to accompany them? As for Netherfield, Mrs. Phillips and I can handle everything by your leave."
I consented, uncaring of who they might engage to work for me so long as I might free from Mrs. Bennet's and Miss Lydia's company for a time. Although visiting a graveyard was a truly solemn event, I saw an opportunity to speak more directly with Miss Bennet, perhaps while Miss Mary prayed at the grave. It would be far more pleasant to be in the company of just the two sisters, but in the end it was more than just the two eldest Miss Bennets, for Miss Lydia ran back after our parties had separated by perhaps a dozen steps and thrust the baby at Miss Mary who took him with nary a complaint. Then Miss Lydia went skipping and laughing away.
We were not far from the church and its graveyard, but in that space I was greeted by Mr. Long and Mr. Goulding. Both of these acquaintances shunned saying anything to the sisters. I said no more to those men than what was polite, my heart aching for what my beloved and her family was enduring for their close association with their sister.
Truly, if Miss Bennet would have me, I would be taking on an awesome responsibility, but it cheered me that Darcy was committed already. He had the right of it to send them far away. I wondered, though, if Jane would be willing to live far from her family, as the new Mrs. Darcy had done. I believed even my patience would be sorely tried if I had to endure the constant humiliation of a close association with Miss Lydia and her son.
We did not truly talk during the walk, and when we gained the cemetery grounds I simply followed them to their father's grave. The gravestone was simple, just had Mr. Bennet's carved name, Thomas Harold Bennet, and the dates of his birth and death. Before the stone on the ground was a single wilted white rose.
Miss Mary said the Lord's prayer over the grave and then began to speak to her father. "Papa, Jane and I are come to visit you, and Mr. Bingley besides. We are doing far better since Lizzy married Mr. Darcy. We have been staying at the inn, have plenty to eat and are soon for Bath. I shall miss you, Papa, but I think it be best if Lydia and Mamma can at least pretend that Lydia is a widow.
"I do not think, truly, that Lizzy wanted to marry Mr. Darcy. I feel some shame that she felt obligated to accept him for our sake, but we also all knew it had to be done, that there was no other choice after he asked, but I have been hoping and praying that they shall get on well enough. I believe he must love her very dearly to take on all the humiliation of an association with our family, but it shall take Lizzy a little longer to accept this, for you know how stubborn she can be. I have been praying most earnestly for Lizzy see him with new eyes, to open her heart, that in time she shall come to love him, but even if this shall not come to pass, I believe she may in time be happy.
"I am sure it is all part of the good Lord's plan, even if I am still angry at Him for taking you away from us when Lydia returned. Oh Papa, she is no prodigal son, for she seems to have learned nothing from her experience, is still as brash and selfish as she ever was. I have been praying for her to learn a little humility, for her to conduct herself in a more circumspect manner, but . . . "
Just then, Little George began to wail, and Miss Mary soothed him by swaying back and forth, then walking about and beginning to sing. Her voice, which had not been fit for the song she attempted at the Netherfield Ball, was pleasant enough for singing to a baby. As she was then occupied, Miss Bennet took the next turn in talking to their father, stepping up close to the headstone. She was on the left side of it, properly not upon his grave itself, but in the space in between his and the adjoining stone, which was another Bennet, Elizabeth Mary Bennet, likely his mother's by the dates. In this manner, from my position at the other side of the grave and a few steps back, I mostly only saw her from the back, with just a little bit of her right side, certainly not enough to make out any of her expressions. Miss Bennet kept her face directed upon his grave and gravestone, even though her primary topic turned out to be me.
"Papa, Mr. Bingley has come back to Hertfordshire and I do not know what his purpose is in being here. You cannot doubt that Mamma with all her plans to see all of your daughters married has gladly welcomed him back. I once had some hopes in that direction, had been encouraged by so many little things, but you know how it has always been with me. I am reserved, circumspect, and private by nature. I had hopes, of course, when I went to London to stay with the Gardiners and called upon his sisters, that perhaps our friendship might be renewed, but from their manner and their protracted delay in returning my call, it was evident that they wished to terminate the association entirely. I could not even say whether Mr. Bingley knew I was in London."
I was most tempted to exclaim and react then, to tell Miss Bennet that I never had any notion of her being in town, that my sisters had never mentioned seeing her, but as she was talking to her father, I did not think it my place to interrupt her with my concerns, and I was most interested to find out what more she might tell him, to determine whether I had leave to hope or not. Still, I planned on having some words with them about the matter, even as I tried to shove my emotions aside so that I could take in every word Miss Bennet was saying.
"Papa, I did my best after that to convince myself that I had been mistaken, that Mr. Bingley never had tender feelings toward me, was simply an amiable and pleasant fellow, and set about the task of trying to set what mine had been aside." In saying these words her voice trembled a bit at what I could only assume were strong emotions. I wished so to reassure her of my devotion, but knew now was not the time to do so.
She continued, "I was convinced it was truly done by the time you died, that if I should meet him again we would be indifferent acquaintances, but now that he is here, I am so confused."
Miss Bennet half glanced pver her shoulder in my direction, but it was so quick that I could not make out her expression. Certainly she was aware of my presence, that I was hearing all she said, but I do think she truly was talking to her father and not me (or not merely me). As for me, I was rooted to the spot, unwilling to do anything to call any attention to myself, hoping she would continue in her candor toward her father. I wished to alleviate her confusing, to leave her in no doubt as to my wishes, which were unchanged by the passage of time and the worsening of her position in life, that I was perhaps even strengthened in my desire to take care of her, protect her from the humiliation and sorrow of her current position, from my love having been tested by distance and time.
"Papa, I do not know how to feel now, for it has been nearly a year and a half since he left. Things are different now, for I know that his sisters do not care for me and likely never did, and now given everything that has occurred with Lydia, I am sure they would be even more horrified with any sort of an association between them and me. The kindest thing I could do for him would be to warn him off, tell him that he should return to London.
"Lizzy and I always promised each other we would only marry for the deepest love, so I wonder why things are ordered as they are, with her marrying Mr. Darcy for our sake just days before Mr. Bingley returned. Oh yes, she tried to convince me that she was half in love with Mr. Darcy after he proposed but I knew better and would not let her lie to me like that. Indeed she married him because of the love she bears for all of us. But now because she has done so much for all of us, our future is secured and I have the power of choice, should anyone propose to me. Of course there will be the temptation to marry just to escape the daily humiliation of being painted with the same brush as Lydia and I should like my own home, husband, to have children, but Lydia will always be my sister and I will not give her up as Lizzy has been forced to do."
Miss Bennet gave a soft sigh, and her next words brimmed with emotion, almost as if she was on the verge of tears, and maybe she was. "I should not like to be married to a fickle man, a man who had convinced me of his affections and then simply went away. It was such hard work putting my feelings aside that I do not know if I should trust that if he pays me attention again that this time will be different. It is perhaps a good start that he has been willing to tolerate Mamma and Lydia, for what I can only conclude is my sake, but would he not come to resent me for the association?"
She took a further step forward and placed her right hand upon the left side of his stone. She was silent for many long moments and I noted in the silence that I could but faintly hear Miss Mary singing. Likely we were still in view, but she had drawn back to let our words be heard by no one but ourselves.
Miss Bennet's voice was steadier when she continued. "Papa, as much as I loved you, I can be honest with you now. I should never like to have a marriage like you and Mamma had. You were often cruel to Mamma with your jokes at her expense, and you ab . . . abbicated (I believe that is the word Lizzy used?) your responsibilities to us by letting her overspend, not planning for our survival when you died. We thought there would be little, not nothing at all besides what could be gleaned by selling your library, the furnishings. Was it you who spent Mamma's jointure or by mismanagement did you not even know it was gone?
"Mr. Bingley has not your biting sarcasm, has always seemed to be a kind and jovial man, but can he truly be trusted to treat me well for a lifetime? And even if he means to do so, surely he will think better of the whole thing and abandon me again before he has truly committed himself." She fell silent again, but I had no way of knowing whether her words were complete or not.
I could not help myself then, had to make some reply, but restrained myself to saying, "Mr. Bennet, may I tell you about my intentions towards your daughter?"
Mr. Bennet of course said nothing, but neither did Miss Bennet. So with caution I stepped forward, carefully walking to the side of Mr. Bennet's grave (the space to the right of him was unoccupied, likely reserved for his wife and other members of his family) until I was close enough to set my hand upon his stone. Our hands were of course not touching, but given the warmth of the sun on the stone, I could almost fool myself that they were. I took a deep breath and prepared to say all I wanted to say to, hopefully, gain Miss Jane Bennet as my wife.
A/N: Sorry, not sorry, for leaving it on a cliffie. I do that both to keep you interested, and to keep me motivated to write the next bit. What should Mr. Bingley say? How will Jane respond?
