Chapter 25

As the carriage wheels rolled steadily beneath me, I found my thoughts drifting to times both past and future—if such concepts could be said to exist for me anymore. It has been nearly forty years since I found myself inhabiting this era, and the life I led before has begun to feel like a distant dream, its edges blurred and fading.

From the tender age of twelve, I had been enamored with the love story of my ancestors, believing it to be one of the greatest tales ever told. I read their story annually, sometimes more, each revisit offering new insights and joys. When the BBC adaptation graced the screens, I was reminded that history is often a tapestry woven with threads of both truth and embellishment. Yet now, I sense that the story I once knew has altered, perhaps due to my very presence here. The details I recall are hazy, and even my trusted electronic companion—the kindle I would read at Oak Mount—now displays only error codes where once the narrative unfolded clearly.

This uncertainty weighs upon me, for I know that certain events must transpire to preserve the course of history, to ensure my own existence. And yet, the specifics elude me, leaving me to navigate these familiar yet uncharted waters with cautious intuition.

With these thoughts occupying my mind, I was not surprised when news reached me that Jane, having taken the carriage to dine with Miss Bingley, had fallen ill. Nor was I astonished when Elizabeth, ever dutiful and prepared, set off with her medical bag in hand to attend her sister, as I was occupied with attending a birth when their note arrived. I had confidence in Jane's resilience and recovery, but it was with some concern that I received Elizabeth's subsequent request for my presence at Netherfield.

The morning sun had just begun to cast its golden hues across the countryside as my carriage approached the grand estate of Netherfield Park. The stately manor stood proudly amid the lush greenery, its impressive façade a testament to wealth and status. As I descended from the carriage, smoothing the folds of my dress, I steeled myself for the encounter ahead.

A footman escorted me through the halls, once tastefully adorned by the Countess of Lichfield, whose discerning eye had chosen the elegant furnishings and fine paintings that once graced these walls. Now, the original elegance had been overshadowed by Miss Bingley's preferences, which leaned toward a more ostentatious display, replacing the refined decor with pieces that, though costly, lacked the understated grace of the former owner's choices. The drawing-room doors were opened, revealing Miss Caroline Bingley standing by the window, a delicate cup of tea in her hands, poised as if the room's transformation were a testament to her newfound status.

Upon noticing my entrance, Miss Bingley turned with a practiced smile that did little to mask the glint of disdain in her eyes. She approached me with measured steps, her posture impeccable and her demeanor exuding cultivated politeness.

"Mrs. Gardiner," she began, her voice smooth and honeyed, "what a pleasure it is to welcome you to Netherfield. I trust your journey was comfortable?"

I offered a courteous nod, matching her decorum. "Thank you, Miss Bingley. The journey was indeed pleasant, and I am grateful for your hospitality in permitting me to visit my nieces during Jane's indisposition."

Her smile tightened almost imperceptibly as she gestured toward a seating arrangement near the hearth. "But of course, family must attend to one another in times of need. Do have a seat; may I offer you some refreshment after your travels? Tea, perhaps?"

"Tea would be most welcome," I replied, taking the offered seat. As Miss Bingley signaled for the maid to pour, I couldn't help but notice the subtle scrutiny in her gaze, as though she were assessing every detail of my appearance and finding it wanting.

She settled into the chair opposite me, her posture remaining flawlessly erect. "I must say, Mrs. Gardiner, it is quite remarkable how the local community holds you in such high esteem. Everywhere I turn, your name is spoken with the utmost respect."

Her tone held a note of incredulity veiled beneath politeness. I met her gaze steadily. "I am humbled by their regard, though I simply strive to be of service where I can."

Miss Bingley tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing in feigned curiosity. "Indeed, your work as a midwife is much appreciated among the tenants, is it not? It is admirable to devote oneself so fully to... such endeavors."

The slight hesitation before her last words did not escape my notice, nor did the condescending edge that accompanied them. I maintained my composure, replying evenly, "It is my pleasure to assist in bringing new life into the world and to support families during such pivotal moments."

She took a delicate sip of her tea before continuing, her gaze never leaving mine. "I found it quite intriguing when Mr. Jones, our esteemed local apothecary, mentioned you in conversation. He seemed to hold you in unusually high regard, crediting you and the Bennet family for his current standing. Quite the compliment, would you not agree?"

A small smile touched my lips as I recalled Mr. Jones's journey. "Mr. Jones is a talented and diligent man. He has worked hard to establish himself, and it has been my privilege, along with the Bennet family, to support his endeavors where possible."

Miss Bingley's eyebrows arched ever so slightly. "Support, you say? One would assume that such elevation from tenant farmer to respected apothecary would require substantial backing. It is most generous of the Bennet family—and yourself—to extend such patronage."

Her words dripped with skepticism, as though questioning how people of our standing could wield such influence. I met her gaze calmly. "The Bennet family has long valued the prosperity and well-being of those within their care. Recognizing potential and providing opportunities benefits not only the individual but the entire community."

She let out a light, dismissive laugh, waving a hand gracefully. "How noble. It is heartening to see such... philanthropy in these rural parts. Though I must confess, it is somewhat outside my experience."

Before I could respond, the door opened, and Elizabeth entered the room, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright with relief upon seeing me. She moved toward us with graceful urgency.

"Grandmother, I am so glad you have arrived," she exclaimed softly, casting a brief, polite glance toward Miss Bingley. "Jane has been asking for you."

I rose from my seat, grateful for the timely interruption. "Thank you, Elizabeth. I shall attend to her at once."

Miss Bingley stood as well, her smile fixed and eyes cool. "Please, allow me to escort you. We are all quite concerned for dear Miss Bennet's health and wish for her swift recovery."

Elizabeth's eyes flickered with a hint of skepticism, but she maintained her composure. "Your kindness is appreciated, Miss Bingley."

As we made our way toward the staircase, Miss Bingley walking alongside us, she continued her polite inquiries. "I trust the journey was not too taxing, Mrs. Gardiner? Traveling such distances can be so tiresome."

I replied smoothly, "Not at all. The countryside is quite beautiful this time of year, and the roads were agreeable."

She nodded absently, her gaze drifting over the portraits adorning the walls as though seeking distraction. "Yes, Netherfield is indeed situated in a lovely area. Though, of course, it lacks some of the refinements and conveniences of town life."

Elizabeth's lips pressed into a thin line, but she held her tongue as we reached the landing. Miss Bingley paused outside Jane's chamber, her hand resting lightly on the doorknob.

"I do hope you find everything to your satisfaction, Mrs. Gardiner. Should you require any assistance, our staff is at your disposal," she said, her tone gracious yet distant.

"Your hospitality is most generous," I replied, inclining my head in thanks.

As Elizabeth and I entered the room, leaving Miss Bingley behind, I felt a palpable sense of relief wash over us both. The atmosphere inside was warm and comforting, with Jane reclining against a pile of soft pillows, her face pale but her eyes alight with welcome as she saw us.

"Grandmother," she whispered, her voice weak but cheerful. "I am so glad you are here."

I moved swiftly to her side, taking her hand gently. "My dear Jane, how are you feeling?"

She offered a small, reassuring smile. "Better now, though this cold has quite taken hold of me."

Elizabeth began arranging the blankets more comfortably around her sister, her earlier tension melting away in the presence of familial affection. "We shall have you well in no time, Jane. Grandmother has brought all her remedies and wisdom."

I exchanged a knowing glance with Elizabeth before turning back to Jane. "Rest now, my dear. We will do everything necessary to restore your health."

As I set about examining Jane and preparing the appropriate treatments, my thoughts briefly returned to Miss Bingley's thinly veiled contempt and probing questions. It was clear that she struggled to comprehend the respect and affection afforded to those outside her narrow definition of society. Yet, within this room, surrounded by love and genuine concern, such pettiness seemed a world away.

Once I had settled Jane and reassured Elizabeth that the treatment plan she had started was indeed the correct one, I felt it prudent to take my leave. As I quietly exited Jane's room, I found myself face-to-face with Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy in the hallway.

"Mrs. Gardiner," Mr. Bingley began eagerly, his concern evident, "how is Miss Bennet? I trust she is improving?"

"She is," I replied with a reassuring smile. "Miss Bennet is on the mend, and Elizabeth's attentions have been most beneficial."

Mr. Darcy, though less outwardly expressive, offered a small nod, his eyes conveying a similar concern. "That is good to hear," he said quietly, his voice carrying a gravity that Mr. Bingley's lacked.

As we began to descend the stairs together, Mr. Bingley's expression suddenly brightened with recognition. "I've just remembered, Mrs. Gardiner—we have met before, have we not? At Darcy House, some years ago."

I nodded, recalling the occasion. "Indeed, Mr. Bingley. It was during one of Lady Anne's gatherings."

"Yes, of course!" Mr. Bingley exclaimed, his enthusiasm growing. "In that case, you simply must stay with us. You and Miss. Elizabeth both. I would be honored to have you here to ensure Miss Bennet's continued recovery."

We had reached the bottom of the stairs by this point, where Miss Bingley stood waiting. Her eyes flickered with surprise at her brother's sudden invitation, her gaze quickly shifting between Mr. Bingley and myself. With a polite but forced smile, she addressed me. "Mrs. Gardiner, how thoughtful of Charles to extend such an invitation, though I do worry it may be rather sudden for you. I wouldn't want you to feel imposed upon. After all, you must have your own affairs to attend to."

"Nonsense, Caroline," Mr. Bingley interjected with a wave of his hand, dismissing her concerns. "Mrs. Gardiner's presence would be most welcome, especially given her knowledge and past acquaintance. There's no need for her to leave so soon."

Miss Bingley's smile tightened, though she maintained her composure. "Of course, but surely Mrs. Gardiner would find it more comfortable to return home after such a long day. We wouldn't want to inconvenience her."

But Mr. Bingley was unrelenting. "Not at all, Caroline. I'm sure Mrs. Gardiner will find our accommodations quite to her liking, and it would be a great comfort to Miss Bennet to have her nearby."

Realizing she had no ground left to stand on, Miss Bingley was forced to concede. Her voice remained sweet, though her eyes betrayed a glimmer of irritation as she turned to me. "Well then, Mrs. Gardiner, we would be delighted if you would stay with us. I shall have a room prepared for you at once."

"Thank you, Miss Bingley," I replied graciously, aware of the tension beneath her words. "Your hospitality is much appreciated."

As she turned to see to the preparations, I couldn't help but notice the subtle interplay of expressions between the siblings, Mr. Bingley's genuine warmth clashing with his sister's barely concealed frustration. Yet, the invitation had been issued, and with it, the stage was set for what would come next.

Dinner that night was an awkward affair, largely thanks to Miss Bingley's determined efforts to orchestrate a formal atmosphere at what should have been an informal meal. The seating arrangement alone proved it: Mr. Darcy was placed to her right, with Mrs. Hurst seated beside him. To my surprise, Miss Bingley seated me to her left, followed by Mr. Hurst and then Elizabeth. It quickly became apparent that any attempt at conversation would be monopolized by Miss Bingley and her sister, leaving little room for anyone else to speak.

I did, however, notice Mr. Bingley leaning over to quietly whisper to Elizabeth, no doubt inquiring about Jane's condition. Though Elizabeth was spared Miss Bingley's inquisition, I was not so fortunate.

Miss Bingley, having apparently gleaned from Jane that I was the wife of a local solicitor and had a son in trade, seemed eager to direct the conversation toward these topics. "Mrs. Gardiner," she began with a smile that barely reached her eyes, "I understand your son is engaged in business. How industrious of him! What line of trade does he pursue?"

Her tone was light, but the question was pointed. It was clear that in her mind, trade was something beneath the notice of those she considered her equals. I met her gaze evenly and replied, "My son, Edward, is involved in various enterprises. He has made considerable investments in shipping and has, by the grace of his hard work and acumen, seen significant returns."

Miss Bingley's smile tightened. "Shipping, you say? How...practical. It must be gratifying for him to have found success in such an industrious field."

"Indeed," I responded calmly, "His ventures have been most rewarding, both financially and in terms of the respect he commands. His business partners include several distinguished individuals, some of whom you might be familiar with."

I could see her struggling to maintain her composure as the realization dawned that she might have underestimated my family's standing. But she was not one to be easily dissuaded from her assumptions. "How fortunate," she said, with a touch of condescension. "Though, I suppose in these times, one must be adaptable. The world changes so quickly, does it not?"

"Yes, it does," I agreed, allowing a small smile to play on my lips. "And those who are quick to judge often find themselves left behind."

The conversation faltered after that, and Miss Bingley, sensing she had not quite achieved the effect she intended, turned her attention to more neutral topics. However, the brief exchange had not gone unnoticed by the others at the table. Mr. Darcy, though silent, watched with an intensity that did not escape me, while Elizabeth, ever observant, seemed to take in the entire scene with a mixture of amusement and concern.

By the third course, it became apparent that Miss Bingley was growing increasingly desperate. Her attempts to secure Mr. Darcy's attention seemed to be faltering, and in a bid to reassert her influence, she turned her focus back to our family, this time aiming her barbs directly at Elizabeth.

With a carefully measured tone, she asked, "Miss Bennet, is it true that you have an aunt who resides in Scotland? Such a remote place, is it not? One can only imagine the kind of life one must lead there. Sheep farming, perhaps?" The question was laced with disdain, as though she could hardly imagine anything more provincial.

Elizabeth, catching on to Miss Bingley's intent, decided to play along. "Yes, I do have an aunt in Scotland," she replied evenly. "Her name is Rachel Campbell."

The name had barely left Elizabeth's lips when she noticed a shift in Mr. Darcy's demeanor. His ever-present mask of indifference slipped, revealing a fleeting smirk. Elizabeth was momentarily taken aback, not quite sure what to make of his reaction. But then, the realization dawned—of course, her aunt and uncle were well-known within the ton. The Darcy family would certainly be acquainted with them.

Meanwhile, Miss Bingley, who had been expecting to dismiss the name as inconsequential, was struck by a nagging sense of familiarity. "Campbell?" she repeated, the wheels in her mind turning as she tried to place it. Something about the name tugged at her memory, much like her earlier suspicion about Mr. Gardiner's significance in trade. But once again, she dismissed the connection. After all, Elizabeth had mentioned no title, so it could not possibly be the same Campbell family she knew—the Duke and Duchess of Argyll. Naturally, she didn't know them personally, but she had meticulously studied Debrett's Peerage and Baronetage and with that assumption, she brushed aside the thought as irrelevant, certain that nothing of importance could come from the Bennet family's connections.

As Miss Bingley rose from her seat, deciding that dinner had come to an end, she gracefully signaled for the ladies to withdraw, leaving the gentlemen to their port. Elizabeth and I seized the opportunity to excuse ourselves, citing our concern for Jane as a reason to avoid joining the ladies in the parlor. It was an excuse we both eagerly embraced, for the prospect of enduring more of Miss Bingley's company was far from appealing.

As we made our way down the corridor towards Jane's room, I turned to Elizabeth and asked, "What did you think of the evening, my dear?"

Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "The dinner was... well, it was everything one would expect from Miss Bingley," she said diplomatically. "Her conversation was as sharp as ever, though I must admit, it was somewhat lacking in kindness."

I smiled at her tact, knowing full well the true depth of her feelings. "She certainly has a way of making one feel... unwelcome," I acknowledged gently.

Elizabeth nodded, her thoughts drifting back to the dining room. "Grandmother, I couldn't help but notice Mr. Darcy's reaction when I mentioned Aunt Rachel. Do you think he knows her?"

"Of course he does," I replied with a knowing smile. "He is actually quite good friends with your cousin James."

Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise. "Mr. Darcy is friends with James?" she repeated, clearly taken aback.

"Indeed," I confirmed. "They have known each other for some time. Your cousin thinks quite highly of him, in fact."

Elizabeth fell silent for a moment, processing this new information. She had always loved and respected her cousin James, knowing him to be a man of good judgment and integrity. The thought that Mr. Darcy, whom she had found so proud and disagreeable, was counted among her cousin's friends was unexpected. "I suppose... James would not associate with someone he did not respect," she mused aloud, a note of confusion in her voice.

"That is true," I agreed, watching her closely. "James has never had patience for those who are arrogant or insincere."

Elizabeth sighed, her thoughts clearly troubled by this revelation. "To be young and stubborn," I thought to myself with a quiet sigh. "Perhaps, in time, she will see there is more to Mr. Darcy than she realizes." But for now, I knew it was best to let her come to her own conclusions.

After attending to Jane and ensuring she was comfortable for the night, I retired to my own room, grateful for the quiet respite. Elizabeth, however, despite her earlier reluctance, decided to rejoin the others in the parlor. Ever mindful of her duties, she knew it was the right thing to do, even if the company was less than agreeable. With a determined lift of her chin, she made her way downstairs, ready to face whatever the evening might still hold.

I am decided to change something in my story, in chapter 12 the tenant child that Rachel Bennet wanted to sponsor is now the local apothecary, Mr. Benjamin Jones. (I updated it in my story but I don't think I did here). And as you see I am talking a bit more about her. Honestly after the next chapter I am drawing a blank as to what I want to write, part of me wants to wrap it up another part is like lets take on the TON with the Bennets. So chapter 27 which has not been written though 26 has, if I have them take on the TON then I want Miss Bingley to find out then of their connections, or if I wrap the story I was going to do it then. Of course then I can bring Rachel and John back into the story (I already wrote about their eldest in this chapter James now Marquess of Kintrye ), along with Edward and Madeline. I do have a rough idea thanks to a comment in another group on my story about Rachel Gardiner actually helping the royal family but as I said I have ideas but can't figure out the details for the story so we might have another break. sorry. :( With that said the next chapter will have Elizabeth and Darcy finally having a conversation! But for now what did you think of Miss. Bingley, too much not enough? love to hear your thoughts.