Editor's Note: Originally written as part of "I Didn't See That Coming". Ostensibly written by a 17 year old boy as a high school assignment, who isn't really into Regency. To spare our gentle reader's sensibilities, spelling, punctuation and grammar have been corrected from the original submission. Original intention has not been altered. We ask you to please overlook modern phraseology.
As he climbed into his carriage in front of Netherfield, the day after the ball, he could not help but feel conflicted. His sisters and his best bud, who he trusted implicitly, all told him that Jane couldn't care less for him; that she would accept an offer from him only because her mother would force her to. If he married her, he would be forced to support her mother and unmarried sisters when their father died. He did not see things the same way. Miss Bennet was shy and reserved, but he had not seen her pay any other man the attention that she paid to him whenever they met. She danced with other men, but never seemed to be as enthused as she was when they danced together. He was unused to the sensations that she caused in his chest. His sister said it was merely an infatuation. His friend beat around the bush trying to say, without saying it aloud, that what he felt was lust and it would not last.
He thought his sisters had his happiness in mind; they said they did anyway. They thought he should look for a wife in London. The ladies there would be of a higher class than the Bennets, they said. He could find a lady with family in the first tier in London, maybe even a Baron's daughter. Although his family had been in trade, he was rich now and once he bought an estate, not here in Hertfordshire, but in some more fancy area near London, they would all flock for his attention. They told him that he did not have to settle for some country bumpkin who had never been presented at court, who had no dowry and no connections worth mentioning. Why, she had an uncle who was a country attorney and another uncle who lived in Cheapside! Her father's estate was entailed to a most ridiculous cousin, a parson no less; surely he could do better.
The carriage started to move. He would be in London in four hours and spend the next three days taking care of business with his solicitor and other businessmen. He was to sell the last of his portions in trade and work to become a gentleman. It was all such tedious work.
As he left the gates of Netherfield, he decided that it was all too much to comprehend. Did she love him? Was she only paying attention to him to make her family happy? Was she shy and demure, or did she really not care for him? Was Darcy right when he said he saw no sign of affection from her? You would think that someone as reserved and taciturn as he would recognize that she was shy, wouldn't he? He felt like he was chasing his tail. He could not decide what was right anymore. He wanted to court her, but if she did not really feel affection for him, would she decline him, or would she accept his attentions until someone else, someone with better family connections, say a gentleman like Darcy, came along?
Why did he not just ask her what she wanted? She would be honest, surely. She was all that was good and pure; surely she would not string him along if she didn't like him. He thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. But his sisters had reminded him that he had said that about Miss Trentwine, Miss Schaffer, Miss Holliday, Miss Smythe… Yeah, he got their meaning. But he thought something was different with her. She didn't put on airs like the ladies in London. She treated his sisters politely even when they were kinda mean to her. He could tell that her sister Elizabeth didn't like his sisters, but Jane had never said a word against them. Surely that meant something. Didn't it?
He was determined to ask her as soon as he returned to Netherfield. He would ask her plainly if she liked him enough to date him. How hard could it be? She would say either yes or no. Why was he making this harder than it had to be? He would return from London, go to Longbourn, ask to go for a stroll with her and just ask her "Miss Bennet, would you like to be courted by me?"
Then he had a brilliant idea. He didn't have to wait to return from London, they would pass right by Longbourn on their way to London. It was already morning visiting hours. He would just stop there on his way to London, ask her and be done with it. He pounded on the roof of the coach. "Stop at Longbourn!" he hollered to the groom. He was already feeling better having made a decision all by himself.
As they pulled into the drive at Longbourn, he started to get nervous. What if she was not home? What if she was not accepting visitors? What if she would not see him? What if she were too tired from last night and preferred to stay in her room? What if she said no? What if she said maybe? What if she said she didn't know if she wanted to be courted by him? What if she said yes? What if… And the coach stopped in front of the door at Longbourn.
He waited for the groom to open the carriage door. "I don't think this will take long. We will depart for London thereafter."
"Of course sir," replied the groom.
As Mr. Bingley strode to the front door, he saw Miss Elizabeth come around the side of the house. When she saw him, she exclaimed, "Mr. Bingley! We did not expect to see you this morning! Your sister said you were leaving for London this morning. What brings you to Longbourn?"
Bingley hemmed and hawed and finally answered, "I was hoping to speak to Miss Bennet before I left for London." Then he went quiet.
"Well, yes, well, Jane is still upstairs." She paused. "If you would like to take a stroll in the garden, I will fetch Jane for you."
"I would forever be in your debt, Miss Elizabeth, if you could do that for me. Thank you." She pointed along the path he should take and he slowly walked that way. So far, so good, he thought. This was easier than he expected. He went through the garden gate and sat at a bench where he could see the gate. He was thinking over phrases in his head. Should he begin with talking about how much he enjoyed last night? Yes, that seemed like a good place to start. Then, maybe say something about her dress, or her hair. Well, what young lady didn't like to hear compliments about herself? Then, what? Ask her if she would consider a courtship with him? How best to say that? He got tongue tied around the lovely Miss Bennet, maybe he should have written out what he wanted to say before he came here. He knew he would only have a few moments before his lovely Jane would be here, he had to come up with something. He was so nervous. He had never been that nervous around a young lady before. Surely that was a sign?
As soon as Miss Bennet came through the garden gate, he walked up to her and took her hand. Looking back later, he wondered where in the world he came up with what he said next.
"Miss Bennet. Say you will marry me. We can elope to Gretna Green, my coach is out front. We can be there in three days. We could take your sister Elizabeth with us if you would like. I think we could be very happy together. Please say yes." Before he could say anything else, he felt the sting as she slapped him as hard as she could.
"Mr. Bingley! How could you? I am sorry if you thought I was the type of woman who would run off with a rake and elope! If this is the type of man you are, I want nothing further to do with you. I can not believe you would take me for a wanton who would elope. Goodbye Mr. Bingley. Show yourself off my father's property before I tell him what you have said." With that, she turned on her heels and ran back to the house, crying.
Mr. Bingley slowly walked back to his coach and yelled, "To London!" as he settled himself inside, still trying to figure out why he had said what he said. His cheek stung so he knew he didn't dream it. He did not see Elizabeth looking out the parlor window with a look that would have struck him dead if he were in her path.
He went to London to finish his business. The next day his sisters and Mr. Hurst showed up at his townhouse unexpectedly. He had not expected them to follow him to London. Now he thought it might be for the best. He had done a foolish thing, speaking to Miss Bennet the way he did. He still could not believe that it was him who said those words. But the clear imprint of a hand on his cheek told the proof. His sister Caroline raised an eyebrow when she saw it, but said nothing. Her excuse for coming to London and closing up Netherfield was that there was nothing to do in Hertfordshire and since Mr. Darcy was coming to London, she thought they all should leave Meryton.
Caroline was desperate to find out why her brother had a clear imprint of a hand on his cheek. Someone slapped him; it must have been a woman - if it had been a man, he would have punched him with a fist and would not leave an imprint. She could not ask him; she knew he would not tell her. The only person who she thought might get him to tell the tale was Mr. Darcy. It would be improper to send him a note, but this was serious; she would find a way.
She wrote her note, telling Mr. Darcy what she knew and asking him to talk to her brother. She was afraid this might have something to do with Miss Bennet. If she had slapped him, for any reason, her worries would be over; Jane Bennet would be out of the picture. She had her butler address the note in his masculine handwriting and had a footman deliver it to Darcy house with instructions to wait for a reply. Not an hour later, the door knocker sounded and as she had hoped, Mr. Darcy had come to call.
"It was very dangerous of you to send me a note, Miss Bingley. I understand why you are so worried, but never do that again. It is not the done thing. Now, where is your brother? I think I need to talk to him," said Darcy.
"He is in his study, probably three sheets to the wind. He has not been himself since we got to town. He will not talk about it, but merely mutters,'Jane, Jane,' under his breath," Caroline responded.
"Having him three sheets to the wind might be the best way to get him to spill the beans; he never did have much of a tolerance for alcohol. Could you send in tea and some munchies in about a half hour? I will try to get him to talk," said Mr. Darcy as he turned to knock on the door to the study.
"Go away I said!" yelled Bingley.
"It's Darcy. Bingley, let me in. We need to talk." Darcy yelled through the door.
"No! There is nothing you can say to make it any better. My life is over. I have done the dumbest thing possible. Just leave me be!" Bingley yelled back.
"I do not want to yell through the door all day. Open this door now!" yelled Darcy. After a pause, he heard the door lock click. He opened the door to see his friend, looking like hell, holding a bottle of brandy and drinking straight from the bottle.
Darcy took the bottle from his friend, sat him down in a plush chair and said, "I think you've had enough of that for now."
"No! I haven't had nearly enough. I can still think. I can still feel. I can still see. No, I have not had nearly enough. Gimme it back!" Bingley reached for the bottle, but Darcy held it out of his reach and his friend flopped back into the chair. "Darcy, I am an idiot."
"Well, it certainly seems so. Why don't you tell me about it?" Darcy asked. Just then Bingley turned his head and Darcy could see the clear red outline of a small hand on his friend's cheek.
"I deserved it," his friend said, slurring his words. "And more. I deserve everything foul thing she could say about me. I don't deserve her. She will never speak to me again. I have really screwed it up this time, Darcy."
Darcy sat down across from his friend, "Why don't you start at the beginning. Who did this to you? And why?"
Bingley told his friend the entire story. Darcy just whistled. "What am I going to do now? I love her. {hick} I don't deserve her, but I love her. {hick} She'll never speak to me again. I wouldn't blame her if she had her father call me out.{hick} I think I would just stand there and let him shoot me. I deserve it. {hick}"
"What you are going to do is forget about her. There will be another angel come along and you will forget all about her. You and I will go to my club, get in some fencing practice, go see the races at Ascot, maybe go see a bawdy play at Drury Lane." Darcy said.
Bingley looked up at him, "You would do that?"
"Of course, I would. Just to cheer you up. It's not the end of the world. There are all the lovely ladies in London for you to meet. We'll go to some balls, a few musicals, you'll meet a pretty young lady and fall madly in love by Christmas." Darcy couldn't believe he was saying this. Hopefully Bingley wouldn't remember any of it in the morning.
A footman arrived with tea and biscuits. "Let's get you sobered up a bit, then your valet can pour you into bed and you'll feel better in the morning." Darcy knew he would feel very much worse in the morning, but such is the mystery of Brandy - makes you feel better, then makes you feel worse. Which is exactly what happened.
By the time Bingley got over his monstrous hangover, he decided to ignore everything his sisters and his friend had said regarding Jane, and well, anything else they had an opinion on. He was going to make his own decisions and live or die by the result. On the second day he decided that he would return to Meryton and grovel as much as he needed to in order for Miss Bennet to at least forgive him, if not actually consent to be in his presence again.
It was two days later before Darcy heard from the Bingley's again. This time the note was from Mr. Hurst, although he was sure it was at Caroline's direction. The note said that her brother had left and did not say where he was going. She was afraid that he was heading to Netherfield and wanted to know what she should do. Mr. Darcy wrote back, ostensibly to Mr. Hurst, that there was nothing any of them could do, Bingley was a grown man and it was up to him what he did. Darcy washed his hands of him.
By the time Bingley arrived at Longbourn, he had a plan formed in his mind. He could not approach Miss Bennet. He hoped he could avoid Mrs. Bennet too. His game plan started with Mr. Bennet. He assumed that he would know what had happened between him and his eldest daughter four days ago. He had to apologize to Mr. Bennet for the insult that his proposition caused and work with him before he could speak to Miss Bennet. He would stay in Meryton for as long as it took before either she would speak to him or her father shot him. He gave those two outcomes about equal chances and figured that either one would solve his problem.
He did not ask to see Miss Bennet on his first foray to Longbourn. He assumed she knew he had visited, but he had only come to see Mr. Bennet. He first apologized to Mr. Bennet and then explained what he had planned on saying and said that he had no excuse as to why he said what he said to his daughter. He took full responsibility and understood if Miss Bennet never spoke to him again, but he had hoped that he could make some small amends to his family. After about a half hour talk, Mr. Bennet told Bingley to come to see him in two days, at ten in the morning.
Mr. Bingley was prompt to his appointment with Mr. Bennet. He did not expect to see Miss Bennet present but he certainly did not expect to see Miss Elizabeth in the room when he arrived. When she did not leave as he entered, he started to understand that she was there as a surrogate for her sister. If she liked what she heard from him, he might have a slight chance of talking to her elder sister at some time in the future. If she did not like what she heard, he might as well catch a ship for America for all the good it would do him. They did not actually discuss either Miss Bennet or what had happened the morning after the ball, instead they discussed estate matters, commodity prices, rye versus winter wheat, how many plow horses an estate the size of Netherfield needed to have, the best way to retain good employees (Hint: do not let Caroline abuse them), all sorts of practical matters.
These talks were repeated four times before Bingley finally realized that he was being interviewed for the position of husband, just the same as if he was hiring a new steward. The questions got more specific as the days went by. How do you tell if an employee is satisfied? How do you tell if your family is satisfied? How do sibling dynamics work when all the parties are adults? What are your priorities in life? Why? Who should be the most important person in your life when you are married? (Hint: it's not your sister.)
As he left on the fourth day, he caught a glimpse of Miss Bennet through the lace curtains in the parlor. He smiled and bowed, then left as he was expected to.
The next day he arrived for his interrogation, he was surprised to see Miss Bennet in her father's bookroom instead of Miss Elizabeth. He took that as a good sign. Mr. Bennet only greeted him by looking up from his book, nodding his head and going back to the weighty tome he was perusing. Miss Bennet motioned him to a chair next to the fire and took the one across from him. "Mr. Bingley," she began, "I hope that you will allow me to say what I have come ready to say, that you will listen to all I have to say before replying, and then I will allow you time to say what you will. Is this okay with you?"
"Yes, Miss Bennet," was all he said.
"As I am sure you are aware, my sister and I have discussed everything that has been said in this bookroom over the last week." She looked at him, he nodded. "She told me of your apology, and of your remorse. She told me of your discussions of estate matters, family matters, friend's influences, your priorities and your preferences. I believe you are truly sorry for what you said and since it was so very out of character for what I understood of you, I am willing to believe you would never do such a thing again." She looked at him and he nodded. "Therefore Mr. Bingley, I forgive you for what you said that morning. I am not sure that I am ready to go back to where we were before that, but I think we could make an attempt at starting over, of putting this behind us. If you are still willing to proceed, I would like time to get to know you better before any goals are stated between us." She stopped and waited for a response. When he said nothing, she said, "You may speak now Mr. Bingley."
"Thank you Miss Bennet for your generosity; I know I do not deserve your pardon, but I appreciate it all the more. I know I have a lot to make up for with you and I promise to work very hard to secure your approbation and regard. I look forward to talking with you on many subjects and hopefully with time, we can see…" He trailed off here, realizing that he was just about to state what she said should not be stated, goals between them. "Anyway, I would like permission to call on you at Longbourn and hope your sister Miss Elizabeth might consent to be our chaperone if the weather holds for a stroll out of doors."
As expected when a relationship hits a speed bump, a true reconciliation took time, about six months, before Bingley understood that Miss Bennet would accept a courtship from him. It took another three months of courtship before he felt he could ask for her hand. Three months later would see the marriage of Charles Samuel Bingley to Jane Marie Bennet in the chapel at Longbourn. The next time the lease was to be renewed for Netherfield, the Bingleys had decided to buy a different estate, one much closer to Derby than to Meryton.