Loving Mr. Darcy: Journeys Beyond Pemberley

Chapter Six Dining with the Bingleys

The Bingleys, with Mary and Kitty Bennet in tow, arrived from Netherfield in time for luncheon the next day. Darcy was absent, attending to business and birthday concerns, leaving Elizabeth and Georgiana to greet them and host the meal. The rooms assigned to Kitty and Mary were next to Georgiana, and the girls vacated the table immediately after dining to settle in, giggle, and gossip as young girls do, and make plans for the sojourn in Town. Charles and Jane stayed briefly, leaving for the Bingley townhouse to rest and regroup before dinner.

The Bingley townhouse was four streets south of Darcy House, on Hill Street. Although located in the Mayfair District and near Grosvenor Square, the house itself abutted Berkley Square, despite Caroline Bingley's preferred assertions that they lived at Grosvenor Square. Bingley's great-grandfather had purchased the house when acquiring his fortune, moving his wife and baby daughter from Cheapside. Half the size of Darcy House, it nonetheless was plush and beautiful, constructed of red bricks with large windows and an ornately landscaped garden with a small pond nearly equal to the Darcy's garden in size.

As with Lizzy, Jane had viewed her future home during her engagement. Thankfully, the Hursts and Caroline had been vacationing at Bath for that week, so the soon-to-be Mrs. Bingley had been free to become acquainted with the manor and make tentative plans for changes. Charles had previously tolerated his younger sister, within reason, decorating as she wished, with the consequence being rooms overstuffed with furniture, gaudy wall coverings, and a plethora of overly ornate knickknacks. Jane was blessed with the gift of innately excellent taste and instinctively recognized where the alterations needed to be. A battle was fated to ensue between she and Caroline, who would require months of steady and frequently heated reminding by Charles before she finally accepted that she was no longer the Mistress. Jane would display a surprisingly stern backbone belied by her naturally serene and unassuming character. In the end, she would revamp the house as she wished, creating an atmosphere of welcome splendor so perfected that the Bingleys would discover themselves residing there for months out of each year.

Tonight, however, the conflicts were yet to come. Word had been sent ahead, so the staff was awaiting the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Bingley with instructions to prepare for a small dinner party that night. Caroline had readily transferred from the Hurst townhouse on the fringes of Mayfair at Bedford Square as soon as she knew her brother was expected, the past six months of living with her sister and brother-in-law having been a torture of boredom and exile to her way of thinking.

Caroline's dismay at losing Mr. Darcy had been acute. Until the very moment the actual vows had been recited, Caroline had harbored a frantic hope that the bewitched Darcy would come to his senses. She had so endlessly badgered Charles to talk sense to “the poor man” that even her infectiously amiable brother had snapped impatiently, begging her to desist at threat of strangulation. Mr. Darcy had not been safe from her barbs and embarrassingly forward advances either. The situation had become increasingly awkward, culminating with a horrid episode three weeks after the engagements had been declared.

Within days of the joint Bingley and Darcy betrothals, Caroline had arrived unannounced to Netherfield, ostensibly to congratulate her brother. However, it rapidly became clear that her true intent was to sway Darcy away from his “horrible mistake.” The fact that an honorable gentleman could not withdraw an offer of marriage once rendered did not seem to penetrate her consciousness. Mr. Bingley was distressed and Darcy extremely uncomfortable, but mostly they were both angry at her thinly veiled insults directed to both Bennet women.

Darcy's patience was at its end on the day Caroline accosted him in the library. On the day in question, he stood beside a bookcase picking a volume of poems he conjectured Elizabeth would appreciate, when Caroline entered.

He looked up and frowned slightly but bowed properly. “Miss Bingley.” He took a step toward the exit, but she swiftly crossed to block his path, drawing near.

“Mr. Darcy, I was wondering if you could assist me. I was searching for a copy of Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew. Do you know if there is one housed here at Netherfield?”

Darcy strongly suspected she was fabricating an excuse to detain him, as she was not much of a reader, but he indicated the shelf of Shakespeare's works. “I believe there is a copy in the collection.” He walked to the case primarily to place distance rather than any desire to serve. He retrieved the book she asked for, turning to hand it to her, only to discover she had trailed and was less than a foot away from his body. He flinched and stepped back, encountering the impenetrable bookcase. “Pardon me, Miss Bingley.”

She moved even closer and reached for the proffered volume, fingers firmly caressing over his. Leaning forward until her bosom brushed his hand and gazing upward through her lashes, she said in a throaty voice, “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. You are the soul of kindness. Is there any way I can express my thanks?”

Darcy was furious. He sidestepped so abruptly that Caroline pitched into the case. Drawing stiffly to his considerable height, he gifted Caroline with the full intensity of the Darcy glower and with a brusque bow excused himself, voice cold as ice. By the end of the day, Caroline was bundled off to London to join her sister on their trip to Bath. Jane and Elizabeth were not informed of the truth, as their private relief to have the troublesome Miss Bingley gone overrode any curiosity.

Bingley's sisters had come for the wedding, naturally, but they arrived only the day before, permitting Darcy to ignore Caroline. Now, after all the time which had passed, Darcy no longer fostered any residual anger but instead pitied Caroline. As with many issues these days, his happiness was so profound that his heart simply did not have space for ill feelings.

Darcy was in good humor when they appeared at the Bingley townhouse. Elizabeth was well, the past two days being very good ones for her, and the birthday plans were all set to his satisfaction. The girls, even Mary, were in high spirits at the prospect of shopping and adventures, and their giddiness infected the elder Darcys. None of them knew that Miss Bingley was joining them, but it would not have dampened their spirits.

Caroline stood regally on the staircase landing, having carefully dressed herself in a stunning gown that displayed her fine figure to its full advantage. It was too late to secure Mr. Darcy for herself, but she intended to show him what he had tossed over for the skinny country chit. Imagine her consternation, evidence by a blanched face and visible dropped jaw, when Lizzy breezed in on her husband's arm wearing a divine, fashionable gown of gold crepe, the bodice of which barely contained a far fuller bosom than Caroline recalled. Her hair was stupendous, with a set of fabulous pearl and diamond clips, the strand of Darcy pearls about her neck, and an exquisite shawl of Japanese silk. She positively glowed, as did Mr. Darcy in a way Caroline had never witnessed, and the casual, unconscious way his hands lingered and caressed Elizabeth's bare shoulders as he removed her shawl brought a flush to Caroline's pale cheeks.

None of them noticed her for a time, the greetings proceeding as if it had been months instead of three days. Finally, it was Georgiana who glanced upwards.

“Miss Bingley!”

All eyes immediately raised, a moment of silence descending. Caroline recovered her composure, gliding gracefully down the stairs. She delighted in the sensation of all eyes on her—as it should be, to her way of thinking. Then, with a stab of irritation, she noted that Darcy's gaze touched her for less than a second before moving away to the footman patiently waiting to take Elizabeth's shawl.

Elizabeth was smiling pleasantly. “Miss Bingley, what an unexpected delight. Mr. Darcy and I did not realize you would be joining us. Pray, how have you been?”

“I am quite well, Mrs. Darcy, thank you. You are the same I trust?”

Lizzy laughed. “I believe I am better than well, actually, at least for the moment. Let us pray it continues.”

Darcy was studying his wife with a small smile on his lips, a hand lightly resting on the small of her back. Jane laughed softly at Lizzy's words, although Caroline did not comprehend why. Not exerting the effort to puzzle it out, she turned her attention to Darcy.

“Mr. Darcy, it is a pleasure to see you. Are you ‘better than well’ also?”

He met her eyes and inclined his head. “Miss Bingley, I am excellent. I daresay the best I have been in my entire life.” Before finishing his earnest little speech, his eyes had returned to his wife, ignoring Caroline.

Mr. Bingley chimed in with a call to the parlor until dinner was served. The gentlemen stayed close to their wives, chatting casually. Caroline was reintroduced to Lizzy's sisters. Mary, as typical, stood apart, awed and intimidated by Bingley's sister. Kitty could not stop staring. Ever since the insertion of Bingley and Darcy to the Bennet household, Kitty had been inundated and captivated by finery and grandeur of all sorts. Caroline found herself near Georgiana, surreptitiously observing Darcy nearly as giddy as her ridiculous brother.

“Miss Bingley,” Georgiana began shyly, “your gown is lovely. I do not believe I would ever have the courage to wear that shade, but it so becomes you.”

“Thank you, Miss Darcy. Proper fashion is a fine art. You are young still and need not yet worry too greatly, although I daresay your debut is rapidly approaching. It is a shame that you have no one to assist with the necessary requirements of society. Men certainly do not apprehend the nuances of stylish dress and feminine exigency.”

Georgiana blushed. “Well, there is an amazing French modiste in Lambton, and while we are here, Elizabeth and I will be having new gowns created by Madame Millicent and Frau Braun. My brother insists. Elizabeth needs new gowns, although I surely do not.”

“It is fortunate that you have traveled to Town, if Mrs. Darcy needs new gowns. I suppose she has resisted deserting the comfortable and simple clothing she has always been familiar with.”

Georgiana frowned. “No, it is not—” but she was interrupted when the footman announced dinner.

“Lizzy,” Jane said as they sat, “you must immediately speak if any of the dishes disturb you.”

“Thank you, Jane dear. I will be fine. These past two days have been blessedly free of any major discomfort.”

“Have you been ill, Mrs. Darcy?” Caroline asked.

“Nothing that will not improve in time, Miss Bingley.”

“Bingley,” Darcy spoke, “my steward sent me the information I requested on the Hasberry Estate. I brought it with me for you to peruse at your leisure. I do hope you will give it some consideration.”

“It is a lovely piece of land, Charles,” Lizzy interjected. “William took me to see it before we left. I believe my devious husband was ensuring my ‘yea’ vote and entrusting me to whisper in Jane's ear.”

Darcy smiled. “Do not be ridiculous, Elizabeth. Bingley is a grown man and will make his own decision. We all know that wives have no influence over their husbands.”

Lizzy and Mr. Bingley laughed out loud, and Darcy winked at Jane. Caroline could not believe her eyes or ears. Darcy jesting! Unfathomable.

“Yes, yes, of course dear,” Lizzy said, patting her husband's hand, “this is why it is fortunate that Charles and Jane will be visiting later in the summer. You can drag Mr. Bingley to Hasberry while we weak minded women stay home and knit.”

“Charles, are you seriously contemplating relocating to Derbyshire?” Caroline asked as she smiled winsomely at Mr. Darcy, who was not looking at her, but smiling at his wife. “It is beautiful there. I have always adored the Peak District.”

“It is one of many ideas, Caroline. My wife and I are not certain which path we will take, although I know my Jane would like to be close to Lizzy, especially now.” Jane smiled sweetly at her husband.

“Jane,” Caroline continued, “would you not miss your parents if you moved away?”

“Yes, of course, and that is why we are not wishing to rush into a permanent decision.”

“How is your family, Mrs. Darcy? Your mother and father are in good health?”

“They are quite well, thank you.”

“And your youngest sister? How are she and her… husband faring in… Newcastle, was it not?” Caroline asked with a smirk and slight emphasis on husband.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table, as Lizzy reached to lightly caress Darcy's hand where it lay on the table. Smiling innocently, she replied, “They are also well, Miss Bingley. Your kindness in inquiring after my family touches my heart. Of course, in an obliquitous way they are also your family, so I suppose it is natural that their well-being would be of your concern.”

Caroline blanched and Jane hid a smile in her napkin. Darcy nudged Lizzy with his knee and took a quick bite of bread to hide his smile. Caroline remained quiet for a time while the conversation varied. She lost count of the number of times Darcy and the upstart shared a tender glance or sly touch. He appeared to observe her every bite with the utmost interest, to Caroline's bafflement. Once, when Elizabeth brought her napkin to her mouth and bowed her head briefly, he rapidly leaned in and whispered something with an expression of deep concern which only cleared when Elizabeth shook her head negatively. Then, to Caroline's shocked irritation, he actually bestowed a brushing kiss to her temple. Poor man, she thought, his hideous bewitchment seems to have overtaken him.

The rather tragic truth is that Caroline Bingley simply could not fathom the concept of love. It was one thing to see her naïve brother fawn over his pretty but brainless wife; Caroline was accustomed to watching him make a fool of himself over a pretty girl. The fact that he had married this one was embarrassing, but she did not conceive of his emotions as being any different than all the others he had been infatuated with. It was not that Caroline did not care for her brother; she did. Nonetheless, she deemed him shallow and moronic; thus, it would never occur to her to entertain the concept of him truly being in deep anything, let alone love.

Mr. Darcy was an entirely different matter. Frankly, as fortuitous as she had considered it for her future, Caroline could never reason why Mr. Darcy was friendly with her brother. Charles, God love him, is such a simpleton, she would think to herself, so how can an intelligent man like Mr. Darcy be his friend? Despite the puzzle of the question, Caroline had given it little contemplation. The advantage was all hers, and to her delight, she knew her close proximity over the past several years to one of the most eligible bachelors in England had been the fount of wild envy among three-quarters of the ton. She had seen Mr. Darcy as the perfect catch, and not only because of the size of his pocketbook. Darcy would be flabbergasted, but the fact is that his cool, aloof demeanor as a result of his shyness and disdain for the foolishness and falseness of society had translated to Caroline as superiority of character. Caroline looked down her nose at everyone, was cruel and snide, haughty and arrogant in the extreme. Lizzy was not the first to interpret Mr. Darcy's past behavior in this light. So, Caroline figured they were two of a similar kind.

Even now, witnessing his happiness, devotion, playfulness, and joviality, she did not evaluate it correctly. In her eyes, he was enchanted, which to a degree was true, but she assumed it was in a negative way. In a twisted bit of logic, she reckoned it her duty to point out his error and ridiculousness before he made a bigger fool of himself before all of society. Simply put, Caroline was ragingly jealous and her pride seriously wounded. One would sympathize if there had ever been the slightest hint of love involved in her pursuit of Mr. Darcy, but since it had always been mercenary in nature, sympathy was impossible.

“Mrs. Darcy,” she inquired sweetly, “how are you finding Pemberley? I have always regarded it the most splendid manor in all of England, do you not agree?”

“I do not believe I could assert that fact with any confidence, as I have personally seen very few of the vast number of houses in all of England. However, I concur that it is splendid.”

“Have you made many changes as Mistress? Redecorated and reorganized? Pemberley has long been without a woman's touch, no offense intended, Mr. Darcy, so I imagine there were numerous areas to address.”

“You would be mistaken, Miss Bingley. Pemberley has been excellently managed by my husband and a superb staff. I have seen no need to change anything. Learning where everything is has taken me most of the past six months,” she completed with a laugh.

Darcy smiled. “My wife is jesting, of course. Within a month she had mapped the entire estate, out buildings as well. She employs her boundless energy and superior intellect and has assumed most of Mrs. Reynolds's duties. I am quite proud of her.” Lizzy blushed prettily and Darcy kissed her hand.

Caroline would not let the subject rest. “Most impressive,” she murmured, “I suppose redecorating has consumed much of your time as well?”

“Not really. My private parlor was the only room requiring extensive renovation, having sadly sat vacant for so many years. We did rearrange our private sitting room, but that has been all. William's mother and other ancestors had amazing taste. I see no reason to change a thing.”

Caroline was shocked, on several counts. The “our private sitting room” frankly baffled her, as she had never heard of such a thing. “Certainly the esteemed departed Mrs. Darcy did have excellent taste, but styles do change. Surely you must recognize the expectation to modernize and, of course, to compliment your own personality. As Mistress it is essential for you to place your distinctive flavor to your home, Mrs. Darcy. Has no one informed you of this necessity?”

Darcy was scowling and opened his mouth to speak, but Lizzy squeezed his knee and replied with a shrug. “Fashion and trends are fickle, Miss Bingley, whereas elegance, refinement, and graceful aestheticism are timeless. Pemberley boasts the latter in all aspects. Modernizing for the sake of convenience and comfort is legitimate, but to constantly revamp in a vain attempt to chase the whimsy of fads is nonsensical. My ego does not require such superficial blandishments.”

Darcy's face had relaxed into its usual serious pose, but inwardly he was jubilant with pride. Caroline was at a loss. She recognized that she had just been insulted but could not readily think how to respond. Fortunately for all, the conversation turned to the planned shopping expeditions for later in the week; Kitty was especially all fluttery at the prospect, having never shopped in Town. A couple of references to baby furniture and clothing were made, but Caroline was so caught up in her own thoughts that she did not note them.

The meal ended without further mishap, everyone in the party retiring to the music room. Georgiana and Mary played a couple of duets they had been practicing, Mary displaying an increased aptitude under Georgiana's gentle instruction. The ladies each sang a couple of songs. Caroline chose a particularly romantic ballad, performed brilliantly as she did possess a stunning alto; however, as her eyes alit on Darcy a great portion of the time, it was uncomfortable for all. Darcy's face was a mask of dark disapproval, fingers warm and tense on the nape of Lizzy's neck. Bingley quickly challenged Darcy to a game of chess, breaking up the musical entertainment session.

Mary, Georgiana, and Kitty continued to play and sing softly in the background while Jane, Lizzy, and Caroline sat on the settees and drank tea.

“Do you have any idea what Mr. Darcy has planned for you tomorrow Lizzy?” Jane asked.

“Not one iota. He has been immeasurably secretive about the affair and rather smug about it all to boot. All I know for certain is that we are dining with Lord and Lady Matlock, but I have no clue as to whether they even know it is my birthday.”

“Tomorrow is your birthday? How lovely,” Caroline murmured. “Mr. Darcy has planned a surprise, I take it?”

Lizzy laughed. “Oh yes! I joked when I surprised him on his birthday November last that he had six months to plan my surprise and I rather think he took me at my word! He has been scribbling notes and sending couriers hither and yon, asking me all sorts of innocent questions about previous trips to London.” Lizzy shook her head and glanced fondly at her spouse, currently scowling in concentration at the chess table before him.

Caroline felt ill. “You have become well acquainted with Lord and Lady Matlock, Mrs. Darcy?”

“Yes. They live quite close to Pemberley, as I am sure you know. They spent Christmas with us, along with Colonel Fitzwilliam, and we dined with them frequently over the winter and spring. Have you been so fortunate as to make their acquaintance, Miss Bingley?” Lizzy did not mention how attentive Lady Matlock had been during her recovery, nor the role Lord Matlock played in the Orman fiasco. These were painful topics and she did not wish to discuss them with Caroline.

“At a few social gatherings, yes. Has the breach been healed with Lady Catherine?”

Jane inhaled sharply and Lizzy's smile froze. After an uncomfortable pause: “This is a private matter, Miss Bingley. It would be best not to pursue.”

“Of course, I understand. It is just so sad when families have these little feuds leading to gulfs in the relationship. I know how close Mr. Darcy has been to his aunt over the years so can only imagine how painful it must be for him to suffer this schism.” She shook her head mournfully, internally rejoicing at the grim cast to Elizabeth's face. “Sadly, one must live with the consequences of one's choices in life, no matter how regretful they may be.”

“I can assure you, Miss Bingley, my husband has no regrets. You presume too much in declaring any knowledge of Mr. Darcy's feelings on this or any matter. I would caution you, as a friend, to remember this.” Lizzy smiled sweetly and took a sip of tea, turning then to Jane. “Has Charles made a choice of decorator, Jane? William was mentioning Klaus Breihmer or perhaps Jonathon Worthington. They apparently have fabulous reputations.” They then launched into a discussion of redecorating the Bingley townhouse, which gave Caroline something new to complain about.

It was a warm evening, and although the windows were opened, no breeze was forthcoming. Elizabeth fanned herself continuously but began to experience a vague light-headedness and faint headache. Hoping to forestall a more serious affliction, she whispered to Jane that she needed to retreat to the terrace for some fresh air. Caroline had moved to the pianoforte to listen to Georgiana, glancing up as a pale and trembling Elizabeth, after a pointed visual exchange with Mr. Darcy, slipped out the door. Darcy rose quickly and followed his wife, anxiety written all over his face.

Caroline was overcome with curiosity. “Is Mrs. Darcy unwell?”

Georgiana beamed. “Nothing serious. She is actually getting better each day, and the physician says the symptoms should pass soon.”

“She has needed a physician? How terrible. She always appeared so healthy and strong. Country stock, they say, usually has greater fortitude. Poor Mr. Darcy! No wondered he appears so dismayed.” She tsked.

Kitty flared. “My sister is with child, Miss Bingley, not unhealthy. Mr. Darcy is concerned, not dismayed.”

Caroline turned white as a ghost, mouth falling open. “Please excuse me.” She exited the room, feeling faint herself. A baby! An heir to Pemberley! Of course it was absurd. Her chance with Mr. Darcy had long been an impossibility, and she had already set her gaze elsewhere for a suitable substitute. Nonetheless, she could not stem the flush of anger and melancholy that lanced through her.

She stood in a darkened alcove in the hallway, breathing heavily and unaware of her surroundings for several minutes. Gradually, her misty eyes focused, spying Darcy and Elizabeth on the balcony.

Elizabeth sat on the stone bench, leaning against the wall with eyes closed, Darcy kneeling in front. He was fanning her vigorously and holding her hand.

“Thank you, beloved. That truly helps.”

“Do you need something cold to drink, my love?”

She opened her eyes and smiled, softly caressing his cheek. “It is passing. Here, sit next to me.” She patted the bench and he complied, leaning first to plant a kiss to her lower abdomen. He sat near, circling an arm about her shoulders and drawing her close. He kissed her forehead, free hand gently rubbing her belly.

Lizzy sighed and shut her eyes. “I think I am just tired. My mistake. I felt so well today that I did not nap and now it is catching up with me.” One hand lay on his inner thigh, the other over his caressing one.

“As soon as you wish, we shall extend our apologies and go home. Jane and Charles will understand. Then I can hold you in my arms and ensure you sleep the night through.”

“Hmmm. What a delightful thought. I want to be well rested for tomorrow.”

He smiled, burying his face in her hair and kissing softly. “I have planned an easy day, my heart. Nothing too strenuous. Just you and me, alone, with plenty of opportunities for me to tell you how deeply I love you.”

Elizabeth lifted her face to his with an unabashed glow of love. He cupped her cheek, running a thumb over her lips and chin. “Mrs. Darcy,” he whispered, meeting her mouth with a tender but thorough kiss.

Caroline observed and heard it all, a fist at her mouth preventing the choked sob from escaping. With a lurch she retreated to the first room available, the dark library. Never in all her life had she witnessed such a scene. With a stab to her heart she nonetheless recognized it for what it was: love. The elusive emotion spoken of in fairy tales and poems and songs, but rarely seen, at least so openly. Caroline did not quite know what to feel. The anger at losing Mr. Darcy was still there, the resentment at the inferior ranked country chit for becoming Mistress of Pemberley remained, yet she could not deny what she had seen. They truly loved each other. Any interpretations of enchantment or nefarious designs were baseless.

For the first time in her life, Caroline Bingley wondered if such an emotion could be hers. She visualized their countenances as they gazed at each other and her stony, selfish heart melted minutely. Still, she quickly reasoned, what profit is love without status and wealth? With much to ponder, Caroline sought the sanctuary of her bedchamber. Only time would reveal if these epiphanies would usher in a permanent character alteration.