Did Darcy and Caroline really stoop to such devious measures?
December 8, 1811
Darcy paced back and forth in the sitting room awaiting his guests. He knew this meeting was not going to be easy, but it must be done. Promptly at two o’clock, the Bingley party was announced. Charles Bingley walked in jubilantly ahead of the others and greeted Darcy with a firm handshake and a broad smile upon his face.
“Goodness, Darcy! I can understand my sisters following me into Town, but your arrival has certainly taken me by surprise! But do not take me wrong, I am pleased to see you!”
“Thank you, Bingley. It was unfortunate you had already left when I received word from my steward that the issue at Pemberley had been resolved and there was no need for me to make the trip there.”
Darcy greeted the others, and Miss Bingley swept into the room. “Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy. It is so good to see you again! Is your sister here? How we would so enjoy seeing her!”
“No, I regret she is not.”
Miss Bingley looked to her brother. “Oh, is that not a shame, Charles? She is such a sweet girl. We must make plans to see her soon!” She turned back to Darcy with an enthusiastic smile.
Darcy simply gave a nod of his head and extended his hand toward the chairs and sofa. “Please, come in and sit down.”
Bingley settled himself into a chair, sitting on the edge and leaning forward. “So how did you decide to come to Town?”
“We began talking about how envious we were of you, Charles, in such superior society and…” Miss Bingley looked over to Darcy for confirmation, “…the next thing we knew, it was decided that we would all quit Netherfield the following day and set out for London.”
Bingley gave his sister and friend a brief smile. “But Netherfield … I had hoped to return in a day or two.”
“There is no need to rush back, Charles,” Miss Bingley began. “We all concurred how much we missed the excellent society here that was so lacking in Hertfordshire. It has been far too long.”
“When do you think we might return to Netherfield?” Bingley asked, turning from his sister to Mr. Darcy.
“I see no reason to hurry back at all.” Darcy took in a deep breath. “Bingley, in all honesty, Netherfield was a decent house in the country, but I fear it would not prove to be a wise purchase. I must agree with Miss Bingley that the neighborhood lacked any sort of good society.”
“Just what are you saying, Darcy? I found everyone to be most friendly!” Bingley looked squarely at his friend.
“Perhaps that is true, but unfortunately, I found them to be simple country folk. No one of any great esteem lived in the vicinity. You must begin to think about those with whom you associate; mere amiability cannot be your only standard.”
A flicker of concern crossed Bingley’s face. “They were all good people,” he protested.
“They were, Charles,” added Miss Bingley. “But therein lays the problem. They were merely good. They lacked the connections, the breeding, the status to which we are accustomed…to which we are entitled.”
Bingley turned back to Darcy. “Are you of the opinion, then, that I should not make an offer to purchase Netherfield?”
“I do not believe you should.”
Bingley suddenly stood up and shook his head violently.” But what of Miss Bennet? I must go back so I can further our acquaintance!”
Darcy walked over to him. He normally stood a few inches taller than his friend, but the distance seemed greater now, as Bingley’s posture was slightly slumped and Darcy’s very erect.
“For what purpose, man?” Darcy asked, his mouth suddenly dry.
“What purpose? She is an angel! She is everything I have longed for! I intend to offer her—”
“Bingley.” Darcy subdued him by placing both hands firmly on his shoulders and looked him squarely in the eye. “Certainly, you viewed Miss Bennet as nothing more than a delightful distraction.”
“Delightful distraction! Good Lord, Darcy! She was much more to me than that! Could you not see how taken I was by her?”
“But was she as taken with you?”
Bingley’s eyes narrowed as he looked from his friend to his sister and then back to his friend. “Yes, I believe she was.”
Miss Bingley stepped forward, and with a cunning, condescending smile said, “Indeed, she is a very sweet, amiable girl, Charles, the most delightful person in all of Hertfordshire, but…” She looked beseechingly at Darcy for assistance.
“But what?” Bingley demanded.
Darcy spoke softly, but forcefully, to his friend. “Bingley, it pains me to say this, but she exhibited no outward regard for you. She received your attentions very politely…”
“Politely?” Bingley interrupted, his countenance reddening and his whole demeanor shaking. “You are all quite mistaken!”
“Bingley, consider this. You came to Hertfordshire and singled her out. Without taking into consideration her family connections, you deemed her worthy of your undivided esteem. With the pressure from her mother to secure a husband of at least moderate fortune as their home is entailed away, she had no choice but to accept your attentions.”
“No! It is much more than that!” Bingley directed his attention to Louisa and her husband, who had been sitting quietly, observing the machinations of Darcy and Miss Bingley. “Certainly you beheld her admiration for me!”
Louisa raised her eyebrow and shook her head. “No, my dear brother, I honestly cannot say I did.”
In a fit of frustration, Bingley pounded his fist against the wall. “You did not make her acquaintance as deeply as I, nor did you apprehend the admiration in her eyes as she spoke, the tenderness of her voice, or the warmth in her smile. She loves me! I am convinced of it! And I love her!”
“Bingley, I am willing to allow that she has a most serene nature, but there is more to consider than merely that and her angelic beauty.” Darcy fortified himself with a deep breath and continued. “She is continually pressured by her mother to marry a man of fortune, her family connections are nothing, their behavior time and again points toward their ill-breeding, and she challenges every word you say!” His eyes flashed with anger.
Every eye turned in astonishment to Darcy, who closed his own as he realized his blunder.
“Challenges my every word?” gasped Bingley. “How could you accuse her of such a thing?” He sat down, completely spent. Shaking his head, he softly uttered, “You just do not know her. None of you. You do not know her!”
Miss Bingley interjected while Darcy made an attempt to gain back his composure. “Charles, Miss Bennet may have appeared to be everything you have ever wished for in a woman, but is it worth taking the risk of going into a marriage where love is not returned?”
Bingley’s face lost all expression, paled, and he looked down at the ground. “I… I…” He shook his head and raked his fingers through his hair. “I really thought she returned my affection. How could I have been so mistaken?”
Miss Bingley threw a triumphant smile at Darcy and then drew near to her brother, placing a hand lightly upon his shoulder. “Love can sometimes blind us, Charles, and we need those who love and care for us to point these things out when we cannot see them ourselves.”
Darcy stepped back and leaned against the wall for support. The fire in his eyes was suddenly displaced by a searing pain and anguish. Despite the apparent victory, a sense of defeat and resignation swept over him as he realized he felt as much grief in losing Miss Elizabeth as his friend felt in losing Miss Bennet.
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How cruel is Miss Bingley? She’s totally absorbed in herself and her wishes and is determined to get everyone to agree with her. At least Darcy truly seemed to believe that Miss Bennet didn’t have proper feelings for Bingley but he really should have advised him to find out for himself.
Ohh how utterly painful toimagine this conversation!
Poor Charles Bingley!
This does not feed my admiration for mr Darcy!
I am a great Jane Austen enthusiastic. I went to the cathedral where she was buried.
Oh, Darcy has wounded himself as much as his friend. That moment when he slips and finds himself speaking of Elizabeth, rather than Jane, was powerful!