The Travails of Mr Charles Bingley, Part 4

I’m back with part 4! There is one more to go; it will be posted next Friday. You can find the previous parts here, here, and here. Thanks for reading.  🥰

The Travails of Mr Charles Bingley, Part 4

In which Jane Bennet and Charles Bingley meet again

As soon as the hour was appropriate, Bingley rode to Longbourn. He was equal parts excited and anxious. The last week and a bit had taught him a great deal, especially about being a kinder neighbour. Whatever else was happening last November, he ought to have taken proper leave of the neighbourhood. He had been wrong to give in when his sisters and Darcy told him to abandon Netherfield. To be fair, it had mostly been his sisters who spoke against the place. Darcy had warned him more about making an imprudent choice of wife. He had acted in kindness, not wanting Bingley to marry a lady who did not hold any real affection for him.

Thinking about his sisters always made him shudder. They had sent him several letters—each—which he had yet to read. Whenever his hand reached for one, a wave of anxiety crashed over him. Louisa and Caroline would demand to know why he was at Longbourn and tell him in very strong language that he was wrong to come and must return to London immediately. It was easier to ignore their orders when he did not read them.

At his first sight of Miss Bennet, Bingley’s knees weakened, and he had to fight against a silly grin. She was just as beautiful as he remembered—more so, truth be told—but it was not only that. She radiated tranquility and love and he felt like a better person simply being in her presence. What a contemptible idiot he was for abandoning her! How could he have been so stupid as to listen to his sisters, whose chief arguments, until they joined Darcy in saying they did not think Miss Bennet returned his affection, was her position in life? What did it really matter that she had no money when he had more than enough for them to live a comfortable, secure life? As for her connexions in trade, he was himself the son of a tradesman, regardless of his father selling his business when Bingley was born, and two of his remaining cousins owned factories in Scarborough.

He forgot to account for Mrs Bennet and some of the Miss Bennets being present. While sending a silent apology—to whom he was not sure—he was very glad the two youngest were not present. Miss Elizabeth said they had gone into Meryton to see Mrs Philips. His eyes were all for Miss Bennet, though he managed to make a polite greeting to Mrs Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Mary, who, as was her custom since his return the previous week, only scowled at him.

“Mr Bingley,” the matron said, “it is very good to see you again. I was ever so surprised when we returned home yesterday and discovered you were at Netherfield Park. We never expected you to return. I have been at the seaside, as you might have heard. Mr Bennet was good enough to send my dear Jane, Kitty, Lydia, and I there as a little treat. Lady Lucas and her daughter came with us. Jane is looking well, is she not? Everyone says they have not seen her equal. But perhaps your tastes are different, and you prefer London ladies.” She sniffed and looked down her nose at him.

All four women watched him, waiting for him to respond. Miss Elizabeth gave him an encouraging smile, which he greatly appreciated. “N-no, not at all, Mrs Bennet. I mean to say, I agree. Miss Bennet is looking very well.”

Mrs Bennet produced a sound that managed to sound both satisfied and dissatisfied at the same time. “Well, it is good you are back, as I said. Your sisters did not come with you?”

“No, madam. They are in town.” And no doubt hoping Darcy invites them to Pemberley for the summer, even though they must be angry he told me about Miss Bennet.

“That is too bad. You will not be able to entertain without a hostess, and I am sure Jane would have liked to see them again.”

For an instant, Miss Bennet’s expression betrayed that, in fact, she would not like to see Caroline and Louisa, and he did not blame her. Miss Elizabeth bit her lips together, no doubt to avoid laughing at the suggestion, and Miss Mary’s scowl deepened, suggesting she had learnt what happened in town that winter.

“Another time,” Bingley said. “I do regret not being able to have a party for the neighbourhood. The grounds are so lovely. Perfect for a picnic on a fine summer day such as today.”

For some reason, this response softened the matron’s manner a touch. “Well, there is nothing for it. I assure you, we are always happy to have you here. You must be lonely, staying in that great big house by yourself. You must take your diner with us whenever you like. Jane, remind me later that we should have a picnic. Longbourn may not be Netherfield, but it is quite good enough for that.”

“Indeed, Longbourn is a lovely home,” Bingley said. “You are very kind, Mrs Bennet.”

She smiled. “That is settled then. I do hope you will make a longer stay this time. The country is so much more pleasant than the city in the summer or, really, at any time of the year. So many people would appreciate spending time with you. Is that not so, Jane?”

It was impossible to know what Miss Bennet thought of this. Her expression was calm and her eyes aimed in the direction of Miss Elizabeth. Miss Elizabeth, he saw, was in turn looking at Miss Mary in rather an odd way. When Bingley glanced that way, he saw Miss Mary looked exasperated and was rolling her eyes.

“Mama,” she said, her tone flat, “I believe Mr Bingley would like to walk in the gardens since the day is so fair.”

“What an excellent suggestion,” Miss Elizabeth said. “Why, just before our guest arrived, Jane and I were talking about going out, were we not? That makes three of us going. Mama, I know you would not like the heat, but Mary, will you join us?”

Miss Mary’s answer was a clipped, “No.”

Mrs Bennet protested at the same time that she encouraged them to go out at once; she attempted to keep Miss Elizabeth inside, and Bingley appreciated her attempts to allow him to be alone with Miss Bennet, even though it was not exactly proper. Miss Elizabeth was polite but ignored her mother, and soon enough, the three of them were outside.

“I shall be just over there, should you need me,” Miss Elizabeth announced, pointing to the right, once they were at a slight remove from the house.

“Thank you, Lizzy.”

Bingley wished he could add his own thanks; he was grateful he did not need to so much as hint that he wanted privacy to talk to Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth was clever to know it was his wish and, he truly believed, what he and Miss Bennet both needed. It was a shame Miss Elizabeth and Darcy had taken such an aversion to each other. They were two of the wisest people he knew, and Darcy certainly would want his wife to be intelligent. But they would make a horrible couple. Bingley shuddered remembering the pair’s ‘debates’ when Miss Bennet was sick and Miss Elizabeth came to Netherfield Park to nurse her. She was such a good sister; what he would not give to have Caroline or Louisa be half as kind.

Miss Bennet led the way to a new wooden bench placed under a grand old elm tree, the boughs of which provided ample shade. She sat at once end, and he took the other, imagining how wonderful it would be to close the space between them. She was so beautiful. The gown she wore was a lovely shade of pink which seemed to accentuate the fairness of her skin and golden tones in her hair. It was perfect for a summer’s day. Oh to have the right to clasp her hand, perhaps even kiss it!

She said nothing, and after a brief interval, he began by saying, “I was planning to return, just as I told you I would at the ball.” There was too much enthusiasm in his voice; he sounded like a fool, which—in light of her calm, even stare—was rather how he felt. “When my sisters and, err…”

“I know Mr Darcy played a role in encouraging you to stay away. You need not say his name, if it is too difficult for you.”

Heat rushed into his cheeks. “It is just that, he did tell me the truth, and I know Darcy’s motives were disinterested. I am afraid I cannot say the same about my sisters.” She made no response, and he continued. “When Louisa and Caroline arrived in town, I was so surprised. Shocked. I asked them why they had not remained in Hertfordshire—that is to say, here—and they immediately launched into a speech about how much they hated the neighbourhood, it was awful, and—” He stopped abruptly. Insulting her home was not a good idea, as the arch of her brow warned. “I-I hesitate to repeat everything they said, especially—”

“As it pertains to me. I thank you for attempting to spare my feelings—this time, I should say—but you need not. I am not so stupid that I still believe your sisters ever liked me. They have made it abundantly clear their feelings are the complete opposite.”

Grimacing, he gave a sad nod. “I did not want to believe that you only liked me because I am rich, which is what they said, but…” He sighed before rushing on. “You are so beautiful and the sweetest, kindest lady I have ever known. So genuine too, unlike many of the ladies I meet in town who are only interested in making a good match. I began to doubt you could actually truly like me.”

“Meaning that I was like the ladies you just referenced, thinking only of your eligibility?”

He pulled his eyebrows tightly together and gazed at her, his lips parted. “Oh. I see what you mean. I was very confused, certain I knew your sentiments one moment, certain they were telling the truth the next. In the end, I did let them convince me I was mistaken about you. I was wretched, even with my sisters assuring me I would meet another lady before long. I hated being in town and left soon in the new year. I did not return until April or May. May, I think it was. I was in Scarborough, with my family. Louisa and Caroline kept writing to me, telling me I needed to be in town, and eventually I gave in. I did not see Darcy until the start of June, but when we met, he told me everything, including about you being in London last winter, and then I came here.”

“Let me see if I understand correctly, Mr Bingley. Mr Darcy told you at the beginning of June, but you did not return to the neighbourhood until the twenty-first?”

He gave her a small smile and nodded, wondering if he ought not to have mentioned exactly when he and Darcy spoke.

“It is all quite a muddle.” Miss Bennet seemed to sit taller; she gazed in the direction Miss Elizabeth had walked for a long moment before saying, “I had no notion you left town in January, not until Lizzy told me. How could I? Your sisters never returned the call I made. Did you know?”

“Not-not then, no.”

She made a noise he could not interpret. “I wonder if you know what Miss Bingley wrote in the note she sent announcing you would not return to Netherfield Park? She hinted—her meaning was unmistakable—that you and Miss Darcy had or would soon have an understanding.”

“Miss Darcy?” he spluttered. “She is just sixteen. A child! She is not even out. I have met her, of course, but—” Words failed him, and he shook his head vigorously. Darcy would be a beast of a brother-in-law, which was a consideration. Not that Bingley had any intention of mistreating his wife; he would be the best husband possible, no matter who he married. But have Darcy always examining him, watching for the smallest indication his beloved sister was not completely happy? He was not a strong enough man to withstand that!

“Lizzy never trusted your sisters, and, I admit, I am too prone to think the best of people. It is evident they no longer view me as a friend, if they ever did. Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley certainly do not want you and I to be…friends.”

“I am my own man. I make my own decisions.”

Once again, her brow arched. “Yet you did not last autumn.”

He blushed. “I was a fool, and I regret it very, very much.”

“I thank you for telling me all this, Mr Bingley. What are your plans at present? I have heard that you came to Hertfordshire because you wished to explain to me why you did not return previously. Now that you have accomplished that goal, do you go back to town or will you stay here longer?”

“I, that is to say, if my company is not disagreeable, I would prefer to remain. I met so many amiable people last year, and we are only starting to get used to each other again.”

Miss Bennet stood, and he jumped to his feet. “I am sure everyone would be glad for the opportunity to renew their acquaintance with you. I should return to the house.”

Without giving him a chance to say anything further, she called to Miss Elizabeth and began walking away. He observed her, unsure whether she counted herself amongst the ‘everyone’. It had been ridiculous to hope they would be reconciled after a single conversation. He might have dreamt it was possible that a half an hour would see them engaged, but he had not truly expected his morning to end in such a happy way. With a sigh, he reflected that, since he was convinced Miss Bennet was the lady he was meant to marry, he still had a great deal of work to do to earn her forgiveness and win her hand.

***

Elizabeth did not know what to make of her sister and Mr Bingley. It was not her place to tell Jane what to do, and, as difficult as it was, she kept her opinions to herself and only offered advice if she was asked. Even when her father questioned her about the affair, she said nothing, suggesting he ask Jane if he was curious. Kitty and Lydia were excited Mr Bingley was back at Netherfield and requested another ball, overlooking the fact that he had no hostess. They were not particularly interested in whatever was happening between Jane and her suitor—for he showed every sign of being just that. Mary continued to frown at him, sniffing and being minimally polite when he spoke to her; it was her way of reproaching him for having injured Jane. Mrs Bennet trod a careful line between excited anticipation that he would come to the point this time and she would—at last—see one of her daughters married and anxiety that something would go wrong and he would leave without proposing.

In the fortnight since Jane returned from the seaside, they saw Mr Bingley frequently. He called almost every day, went to church with them, had dinner at Longbourn twice, they met at various neighbourhood entertainments, et cetera. He was always attentive to Jane, who was neither encouraging or discouraging. To Elizabeth’s amusement, her elder sister often pushed the gentleman to fully immerse himself in local affairs. This included getting to know people, especially those characters who were more challenging to tolerate than not, such as Mrs Barnes who, being almost completely deaf yelled rather than spoke and was forever berating people for not speaking clearly. At Jane’s instigation, he attended meetings with the other gentlemen, with whom he had numerous conversations about roads and troublesome individuals and the impacts of government policies on farming.

One quiet evening, the sisters sat in the garden, gently rocking back and forth on the swing that hung from a broad oak tree. Jane spoke about Mr Bingley.

“I suppose I wanted him to understand the neighbourhood better—the people and all the issues that impact our lives, in one way or another. I cannot say why, but it seemed important to me.”

“Perhaps because it meant he would have greater ties here,” Elizabeth said. She had other ideas too, such as it reminding Mr Bingley that, as a gentleman, he had responsibilities apart from enjoying himself. After all, he was not a youth any longer; he leased an estate, no doubt would want to purchase one in the near future, and was, they believed, contemplating marriage.

To Elizabeth’s surprise, Jane voiced similar notions. “It is more than that. It is about the future, one we might share. I have not wanted to show what I feel for him.” She laughed, and it sounded a little bitter. “Not being more open is why his friend advised him to leave. No, Lizzy, you not say anything.” She had opened her mouth to protest. “I know I am not to blame, and my behaviour was always what it should be. But I feel the difference in how I am now acting, even if it is not outwardly apparent. I admit to you alone, because I know you will keep my confidence, I do still care for him a great deal. Indeed, my feelings for him might be even stronger than they were previously. Watching him this last fortnight, seeing his attempts to correct the errors he made and being so attentive to me, I can hardly help it.

“But,” Jane went on, “if our renewed acquaintance is to result in anything more permanent, I need to have more confidence that he can be serious. That he was so easily led by his family and Mr Darcy is…disappointing.”

“Of course it was. He ought to have trusted you, understood you better. At the very least, he should have come back to Netherfield to discover the truth for himself rather than rely on the observations of others, particularly his sisters.”

Jane sighed and rested her head on Elizabeth’s shoulder for a moment. Elizabeth listened to the birds singing in the twilight and enjoyed the gentle breeze against her skin.

Jane broke the silence. “I suppose I shall forgive him. If I did not believe I was meant to spend my life by his side, I would not, but that is I how I have felt all these months, even when I had no hope. It seems impossible that I would give up now that he is returned.”

Elizabeth wondered if Mr Darcy ever had similar thoughts about her. They had last seen each other three months ago. Often, she assured herself his feelings were only infatuation not love. Even if he had truly been in love with her, after the way she abused and misunderstood him, he no longer was. A stab of sadness almost made her gasp; she hated knowing he must think ill. Yet, regardless of any disdain he rightly felt, he had still talked to Mr Bingley about Jane, providing them a possible route to reconcile. It proved what an excellent gentleman he was. This is not the time to think about him, she reprimanded herself. Attend to Jane, or you are a very poor sister indeed!

She said, “Jane, be careful.”

“I will, Lizzy, I promise. I will do nothing until, unless, I am certain he will always take my part and not be swayed by his sisters or anyone else.”

They spent a few minutes speaking about the gentleman, Jane almost poetic as she recounted a conversation they had about flooding and land improvements to prevent it, a subject he had been studying at the direction of Mr Bennet and was, apparently, quite enthusiastic about.

As they were preparing to return to the house, Elizabeth said, “Aunt and Uncle Gardiner will be here the day after tomorrow. You will soon be occupied by their four rambunctious children. Mr Bingley will have to work extra hard for your attention.”

Jane chuckled. “I am sure you would say it would do him good.”

“I would!” They both laughed.

“Are you looking forward to your trip?” Jane asked. “I know you would have liked to have seen the Lakes, but our aunt says Derbyshire is beautiful.” The original plans had been altered to suit Mr Gardiner’s business responsibilities.

“I am.” To herself she added, Even though our path will bring us so close to Mr Darcy’s estate. Not that I fear we shall see each other. Mr Bingley talked about him being in town, and even if he were in Derbyshire, how—why—would our paths cross? “Perhaps by the time I return, you will be satisfied with Mr Bingley’s progress. If not, there is no harm in making him wait longer before you make him the happiest man in the world.”

So, Elizabeth is headed to Derbyshire. Want to bet whether Darcy will just happen to be there? How many engagements do you think there will be by the end of the story? See you next week with the concluding part!