The Final
Indignity
a Jane Austen fan fiction vignette
by Lucy
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" Miss Bingley was very deeply
mortified by Darcy's marriage; but as she thought it advisable to retain the right
of visiting at Pemberley, she dropt all her resentment; was fonder than ever of
Georgiana, almost as attentive to Darcy as heretofore, and paid off every
arrear of civility to Elizabeth."
Jane Austen
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Miss Caroline
Bingley struggles to overcome her jealousy of the new Mrs. Darcy.
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This, Miss Caroline Bingley thought, as the carriage pulled
away from Pemberley, has certainly been the final indignity. Had it truly been
only a twelvemonth ago that she had been leaving Pemberley confident that she
was one step closer to her long cherished goal of becoming the Mistress of
Pemberley? The preceding summer she had taken as a sign of fate Miss Eliza
Bennet's sudden departure from Derbyshire just as Miss Eliza and Mr. Darcy were
so obviously and distressingly getting on. Oh, what a long and wretched
waste of time and effort these past years have been, thought Miss Bingley, and now
I must begin anew. But how? This had been the estate she wanted, the position and the income. That
the man attached to the situation should be handsome and in all ways dignified,
as well as unencumbered by a mother to challenge her role as Mistress, had been
just an added advantage. While she had never been particularly interested in
passion, to have also so recently witnessed that he was as well of a passionate
disposition annoyed her further, if only because Miss Eliza Bennet-for such she
would always be to Miss Bingley-as the recipient of said passion once again
managed to have what manifestly should have been her own. It never occurred to
Miss Bingley that such passion as she had surreptitiously witnessed was not
existent in the long sought after Mr. Darcy in and of itself inconsequentially
of the recipient, rather it was the product of a mutual and stout affection and
admiration. That would have required an acknowledgement, a recognition, if you
will, of Mrs. Darcy's, nee Bennet's, charming attributes of person and character. All
Miss Bingley could recognize, and that most unwillingly, was complete, abject
and humiliating defeat. Every secret wish she had harbored since their engagement
and subsequent marriage--a secret wish of witnessing either Mr. Darcy's
displeasure with his choice of a wife or said wife's failure in society--had
come to naught.
Miss Bingley had insinuated herself into this latest visit
to Pemberley, in company of her brother and his wife, and now she could only
repine that she had. In truth, Miss Bingley had not known why she had come to
Pemberley, or perhaps she knew precisely why: morbid curiosity, a need to
proudly display indifference toward her never captured prize, a desire to
assert to her acquaintances in Town her continued connection to the illustrious
family and estate, and of course that last spring of malicious hope that all
was not well with Mr. and Mrs. Darcy.
After Mrs. Darcy's London debut, what else had she left?
| | | |
"Louisa," Miss Bingley whispered conspiratorially
to her sister as the carriage approached the opera house, "I do not recall
an evening at the Opera that I have ever so anticipated."
"You are not alone Caroline. When it was learned that
Mr. Darcy intended to appear at the Opera this evening with his new wife the
entire Town suddenly clamored for an evening out at the Opera. This is, after
all, her first public appearance and curiosity is very high. For the entire
fortnight they have been in Town they have only attended a few private family
dinners."
"I am quite sure the country chit will make a fool of
herself. She will appear exactly as she is. An unfashionable, country nobody
with no grace and little breeding and Mr. Darcy will be mortified. He will see
that he made an error which he shall ever repine."
For as much as Mrs. Louisa Hurst enjoyed exercising
condescending gossip with her sister, she was not sure that even she could
condone the malicious ill will that Caroline held for the new Mrs. Darcy. It
seemed a wasted amount of energy and impolitic as well. Caroline had failed
completely in her attempt to secure Mr. Darcy; together they had failed to
separate both Charles and his friend from the now infamous Hertfordshire
sisters, so there
was nothing left but to get on with it.
Besides, she recognized, as Caroline would not, that their brother's
connection to Mr. Darcy through marriage was far more consequential than the
long established friendship and it would be unwise to do anything that should
disaffiliate them from Pemberley and all its connections and prestige. Louisa
was not in a temperament to discuss this with her sister again, so she merely
remarked on her frowning countenance.
"Really Caroline, do not frown so. It will leave
unsightly lines upon your brow."
"Do not concern yourself Louisa, for I will soon be
smiling most broadly, for I am sure that Eliza Bennet will disgrace herself. I
will grant you that Jane will hold herself admirably well, for she is pretty
and inoffensive enough. But I am ever so confident in Eliza Bennet's inability
to impress the sophisticated society she is about to enter. Mr. Darcy may have
been bewitched by her fine eyes, but I dare say society is more discerning than
he proved to be."
As the Hurst carriage arrived at the Opera House and the
party stepped out they could not help but notice the unusually large number of
people ambling about outside in the cold winter night. Much to her chagrin Miss Bingley
realized that it was all in the name of the infuriating Eliza Bennet. Miss
Bingley was anew consumed with jealousy. "This attention should have been
for me as the new Mistress of Pemberley and Darcy House," she murmured.
"Dear Caroline," Louisa responded in agitation,
"You would not have garnered the same enthusiasm and excitement for you
are well known within society. She is an object of mystery, if you will."
"Pray, Louisa, are you now an admirer of Miss Eliza as
well? If so you shall see along with Mr. Darcy that she will be an
embarrassment. Frankly, Mr. Darcy deserves the shame she will bring to him this
evening. She is nothing but an inconsequential gentleman's daughter with an
uncle in trade, after all, and will look the more so in this setting. With so
many fashionable ladies present this evening she cannot shine. She will look
just the country nobody she is."
"In that assessment, dear sister, I cannot but
agree," Louisa said.
The curiosity to get a glimpse of the new Mrs. Darcy was
indeed running high. That Mr. Darcy had wed an unknown country gentleman's
daughter, a young lady of no fortune and with no connections in a small,
private ceremony after years of being chased by every mother and every
unattached lady in high society was itself enough of an inducement for such
curiosity. That his intimate friend had married a sister of Darcy's country
bride added more curiosity. And still more interest was fed by the oft repeated
knowledge that Mr. Darcy had wed his bride with the express disapproval of more
then one member of his illustrious family. What kind of woman, it was wondered,
could induce the ever reserved, proper and dutiful Mr. Darcy to abandon all
expectations of family and society? What kind of woman could inspire such
passion-for it was commonly surmised that only the forces of passion could
account for such a marriage.
Mr. Darcy and his friend Mr. Bingley had married the Hertfordshire
sisters, as they
were commonly called among the gossiping ton, a fortnight before and this would
be the evening in which they would finally be seen. The Bingleys had only just
arrived in Town the afternoon before, but the Darcys had been quietly in Town
for the entire fortnight, eschewing all but the most intimate acquaintances.
Curiosity was at a fever pitch.
As the Hursts and Miss Bingley were busy greeting a few
acquaintances a noticeable murmur of anticipation rushed through the crowd. A
very fine carriage pulled up to the Opera House with the well-recognized Darcy
crest emblazoned upon the door.
"Do you think she knows how to dress for the
opera?" Miss Bingley said to her sister, thinking that she herself looked particularly
fashionable this evening, with her ostrich feathers accentuating her height and
her jewel bedecked person glittering with pretension.
"We shall see shortly, I suppose. But I am sure she is
at least informed enough to be certain no mud is on her petticoat," Louisa
spontaneously added, much to Miss Bingley's delight. More than a few people in
the crowd noted the sisters' high-pitched and disagreeable laughter with
distaste.
The carriage soon came to a stop and Mr. Darcy and Mr.
Bingley stepped out. Both looked as handsome as was their want, with Mr. Darcy,
as was also his want, looking the more particularly elegant and refined. Yet there was also something different
about Darcy's air, a lightness that was not familiar to his acquaintances and
that rendered his countenance still more handsome then it had long been admired
to be. While Mr. Bingley was quite oblivious to the attentive crowd of opera-goers
awaiting the first glimpse of the infamous Hertfordshire sisters, Mr. Darcy was not. While it is not
the object of this tale to explore the thoughts of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, it
can be known that, at least this evening, to his own great surprise, he found
the spectacle of being a spectacle vastly amusing.
Mr. Bingley, with his usual gleeful grin, was the first to
turn to the carriage to hand out his wife. Mrs. Bingley stepped out with an
almost equally gleeful expression of mirth and with an also apparently equal
obliviousness to the attention their party was receiving. Mrs. Jane Bingley
looked, as always, beautiful, graceful and sweet. To those who had known her as
Miss Jane Bennet there would be no discernable difference with the exception of
the improved quality of her gown-although in cut and style her choice of attire
was very much unchanged. She was immediately pronounced by all to be beautiful
and graceful with a very sweet countenance. Much as she was admired, however,
her presence could not long hold the attention of the curious crowd, for lovely
as she was, she was not Mrs. Darcy-captor of the elusive prize, Mistress of
Pemberley and Darcy House, consort to the powers and prerogatives of 10,000
pounds a year. Therefore, the crowd soon rested what felt like one single eye
upon the carriage and waited with no small anticipation to see Mr. Darcy hand
out the mysterious Mrs. Darcy.
Mr. Darcy held out his hand to his wife and just as a small
gloved hand was seen to rest in his, he leaned into the carriage and whispered
something with an amused expression on his face, so that as she was stepping
out of the carriage Mrs. Darcy's musical and gay laughter was heard softly
rising into the air. As she finally stepped out and stood next to her husband,
she glanced at the crowd. Turning a smiling face to his, arching her eyebrow
and leaning her head ever so slightly toward his, she made a hushed comment to
Mr. Darcy, causing him to laugh quietly and openly in a manner not often
witnessed by the London ton.
If a crowd can be said to rise in unified admiration, the
chorus of ohs
and ahs that
followed would be such. For not only did they make a striking pair with a
subtle intimacy about their air, but, more particularly, Mrs. Darcy was not at
all what had been expected of a country bride. Indeed, many of Miss Elizabeth
Bennet's own acquaintances would have been struck by the difference in the
young lady. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, who had known her in Hertfordshire,
saw the change immediately and could not account for it at all.
"Miss Eliza does appear different, does she not?"
Louisa asked her sister.
"I will concede that she has cleaned up well enough,
but her dress is rather simple," was Miss Bingley's dismissive
acknowledgement. But what was the
change, she wondered privately. Conceding to herself that it was not merely her
attire, but something in her air and in her carriage.
In truth, while Mrs. Bingley, nee Miss Jane Bennet, had not in any
manner changed since her marriage--she had always been beautiful and kind and
she remained beautiful and kind--the same could not be said of her sister.
While Miss Elizabeth Bennet had been a very pretty and handsome young lady, it
could only be said of Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy that she was a strikingly beautiful
woman.
And what, dear reader, you may be wondering, could have wrought
such a transformation in so little time? In truth, it was not a transformation,
rather a blossoming.
We will grant that Mrs. Darcy's attire was in part
responsible for the apparent transformation-and we will dispatch with these
details first. For with the guidance of her dear aunt, Mrs. Gardiner, Mrs.
Darcy had made her way to the most excellent dress shoppe of one Madame Dumas.
There Mrs. Darcy had naturally selected the very finest fabrics as her new
position and income allowed, but also had discovered a dressmaker whose designs
and cuts were always subtly and masterfully modified to enhance the natural
charms of her clientele, or to hide the unfortunate weaknesses of figure of her
clientele, as the case may be. Mrs. Darcy's dress this evening was an exemplary
testament to Madame Dumas' keen understanding of cut and figure. As befitted
Mrs. Darcy's natural distaste for excessive lace and other assorted
accessories, her gown was of a simple and clean cut, with a daring (but not
improperly so) neckline that accentuated her fine bosom and her soft shoulders.
The deep crimson color of the silk lent to her skin a luxurious luster and the
delicate chain of tiny diamonds and rubies that encircled the base of her
supple neck cast a barely perceptible shimmer on her naturally bright
visage. Her hair, in a high,
elegant arrangement with a few irrepressible curls framing her face, was
discreetly adorned with a small diamond encrusted comb.
But as Miss Bingley so rightly mused to herself, it was not
just her attire that was different; it was something in her air and her
carriage. And while Miss Bingley could not discern its cause, Mr. Darcy, had he
been asked, could have easily specified its cause had he been inclined to do
so, for he had watched his wife blossom in front of his eyes as surely as one
watches a rose opening in the sun, day by day more fragrant and more abundant,
until one morning you awaken to find it in full glory and you stare in wonder
at its beauty. And it had all started in the marriage bed, where the happy
couple had discovered a mutual passion and sensuality that had increased the
intimacy of their hearts as surely as it had the intimacy of their bodies, and
in the deep trust and connection they quickly developed she had blossomed. Just
as surely as her joy was seen as much in her eyes as in her smile, Mrs.
Elizabeth Darcy's awakened sensuality was emitted as much in her air as in her
touch and her movements. And it
was this newly discovered sensuality, coupled with her naturally brimming joy,
all draped now in the finest fabrics, that transformed the pretty country girl
Mr. Darcy had wed into the strikingly beautiful woman that the crowd watched
Mr. Darcy escort-quite proudly, it might be added-into the opera house.
In short, the ladies quickly declared her in possession of
an easy, unpretentious elegance; the gentlemen, however, quietly among
themselves, found her sensuality the more noteworthy. All agreed, however, that
she was, with her dark hair and life suffused visage, her light and graceful
figure and lush skin, quite striking.
Miss Bingley watched in utter dismay, feeling unaccountably
indignant at the impression Miss Eliza had most certainly made as waves of
admiring comments rushed through the crowd. But her fury had only just begun, for after the first act,
as they left the Darcy box, Miss Bingley watched as Miss Eliza was surrounded
by admirers eager for a look and social vultures eager for an introduction and
an invitation to tea.
That should have been me! she continued to say to herself. That
is my place she has usurped!
Finally Miss Bingley walked away, unable to tolerate any
longer the obsequious efforts of the well healed to become acquainted with the
new Mrs. Darcy. She dragged Louisa with her and standing just near a large potted
plant where she might protest undisturbed and unseen, they listened, most
unhappily, to Lord S and Viscount X discussing the Hertfordshire Sisters.
"When Bingley's wife stepped out of the carriage I
thought Darcy's wife would have to disappoint. No family can have two such
lovely creatures, but I dare say Darcy bested us all again," Lord S mused.
"Yes, I dare say he has. Darcy's bride is not perhaps
as conventionally pretty as Bingley's, but she's an air about her that is
extraordinarily enticing. She is not at all like the ladies we are daily
putting up with here in Town."
"Quite right. I no longer wonder myself that he has
been hidden away in the townhouse for the last fortnight, with a bride like
that, and she so obviously smitten too. Darcy too. Would have never imagined it
from the cold fish! Never interested in the ladies before and now he looks as a
fool in love as I have ever seen."
"Yes, rather. Alarming, really. To be so effected. I
cannot say I ever looked at my wife in that manner."
"Perhaps. But our wives do not look like his wife.
They had attractions not of person or character, but of a more pecuniary
nature." The men shared a cynical, gruff chuckle.
"Have you been introduced to her, or have you simply
gawked like the rest of us fools?" The Viscount asked after a moment.
"Yes, I stopped Darcy on the way in and was able to
speak with her. She is rather witty as well as lovely. In truth she seems too
lively for our old Darcy. She is utterly charming."
Just then Mrs. Darcy's pleasing laughter was heard ringing
out in the hall. "Hmm." Lord S remarked. "It is no wonder,
really, that Darcy is smiling like a damnable fool. To think, for a while there
we all thought he would grow tired of being chased about and marry either that
sickly cousin of his or one of those grasping young ladies that were always
setting their caps at him. Although I suppose the cousin would have not very
likely produced an heir."
"He will certainly enjoy producing an heir now!"
The gentleman laughed in a most ungentlemanly manner. "Surely more than
with that persistent and sallow Miss Caroline Bingley that followed him around
like a little puppy."
"Like a puppy? More like a lioness after its prey I
would say. I never thought he would succumb to her ploys. He only tolerates her
for his friend, after all. But I had begun to think him quite ready to resign
himself to a nice practical marriage like the rest of us. And here he shows up
with this enchanting lass of a wife. How does Darcy manage to always have the
best? Finest woman I've seen in quite some time."
That was too much for Miss Bingley, Lord S, one of the most
respected and well titled men in England calling Miss Eliza Bennet, that
country nobody with the disgraceful and embarrassing family, one of the finest
women he'd seen in quite some time! And to be laughed at and ridiculed herself
in such a manner. It was too much to be borne. Pleading a headache, she was
willingly escorted home by the Hursts, Mr. Hurst eager to retire to his bottle
of brandy and Mrs. Hurst dutifully consoling her indignant sister.
Some three weeks later Miss Bingley read the following
entry in the London Society pages:
Many a gentleman, single and married, is feeling wholly
bereft this morning as the loveliest and most charming lady in all of London
departs with her husband to Derbyshire for the remainder of the season. And why
so soon, some have questioned, when there are still so many who wish to have
the honor of hosting the most admired couple of the season? Some have
speculated that the charming lady's gentleman is rather put out by all the
admiration his fair and witty wife has inspired since first appearing at the
Opera and that he wishes to keep his treasure to himself. While we comprehend
his selfishness-for who would not want to keep that smile and those famously
fine eyes to oneself--we do hope that he will be more generous with the highly
anticipated arrival into society of a certain unattached young lady in his
care.
"I have such a headache," Miss Bingley groaned as
she threw the paper into the fire.
| | | |
As Miss Caroline Bingley walked around the rooms of
Pemberley that she had so often studied and carefully inventoried she was all amazement.
She could not understand it. Surely, this was perhaps the oddest thing about
Miss Eliza Bennet yet. For she had, apparently, changed nothing, absolutely
nothing. How could a woman with access to 10,000 pounds a year and an
admittedly besotted husband not take advantage of such an opportunity? When
Miss Bingley considered all that she would have done: new furnishings for the
principal drawing room, new colors altogether for the music room, and most
certainly a new housekeeper, just to start, for Mrs. Reynolds was all too
familiar in her dealings with the family. It had been peculiar enough that
while in London Mrs. Darcy had regularly appeared in less then opulent
jewels-for really, why have such finery as the Darcy jewels if they are to
simply sit in a safe unseen and unworn? (Little did Miss Bingley know that with
the exception of the necklace Mrs. Darcy wore the night of the Opera, which had
been a gift from her husband, all of the jewels that Mrs. Darcy had worn while
in London were, in fact, the Darcy jewels. But your storyteller digresses.)
As she surveyed the unchanged public rooms Miss Bingley
concluded that Miss Eliza Bennet must be completely intimidated by the
consequence of her new situation, and all things considered also concluded it was
quite natural that she should be. "She must feel keenly how ill prepared
she is and how ill suited she is to running such a great house," she
whispered under her breath as she ran her hand lovingly over a particularly
fine Japanese vase that decorated the north sitting room. This thought did not,
of course, inspire Miss Bingley with compassion, rather she felt a giddy sort
of triumphalism. Yes, thought Miss Bingley, this lack of decision is clearly the result
of her feeling the inferiority of her breeding and understanding. As she contemplated this thought a
smile spread across her face, for much as she had promised Louisa that she
would be all that is civil, she simply could not, based on this enlightening
realization, miss the opportunity of reminding Miss Eliza that she was in fact
altogether unworthy of such a situation in life.
"Only a woman of my accomplishments could be a great
Mistress of Pemberley," Miss Bingley said, as she looked at her reflection
in the drawing room mirror to ascertain if her headdress was properly askew. After
dinner, she
thought, while the gentlemen are having their port, I shall have some sport
with the little upstart, make her feel her inadequacy.
To see her in discomfiture in front of her guests, even if
they were all family, would be such a pleasure. But it must be while he is
out of the room,
she continued to muse, for if I am not all that is correct in front of Mr.
Darcy he is liable to bar me entirely from Pemberley as he has Lady Catherine,
and that would be most difficult to explain to my acquaintances in town, what
with Charles now being his brother and all.
"Miss Eliza, I will get the best of you yet," she
whispered, happily humming as she entered the sitting room where the party was
gathered in great sartorial pomp--feathers bobbing, silk rustling and jewels
sparkling.
And indeed, dear reader, as the ladies of the party-Mrs.
Darcy, Miss Darcy, Mrs. Bingley and Mrs. Gardiner--took seats around the music
room later that evening our delightful Miss Bingley lost no time. Quite secure
in her decor inspired assertion that the ever confident Miss Eliza Bennet had
clearly lost all such confidence, she began thus: "Do tell me, Mrs. Darcy,
why you have not made your mark as mistress of this great house?"
"To what do you portend, Miss Bingley?" Mrs.
Darcy replied with an amused expression, as she gestured for Georgiana to serve
the tea.
"Why, your sister, dear Jane, has made numerous
changes to Netherfield, but I do not seem to notice any that you have made here
at Pemberley. It all looks quite the same as it ever has. Does not Mr. Darcy
allow you such liberty?" she asked haughtily, all the while looking down
her long nose. "Or is it that you are unsure of yourself? If the later I
would be pleased to give you guidance if you so desire, having more experience
in these matters as I do."
"You are all kindness, Miss Bingley, but your
assistance will not be necessary. I assure you I am quite at liberty to change
anything I should desire and I am also quite capable of selecting wall colors
as well as the next." Mrs. Darcy smiled in that sweetly arch manner her
husband found so irresistible and Miss Bingley found so impertinent.
"I am sure, Mrs. Darcy. But then pray tell, why have
you not indulged in the pleasure of redecorating?"
"I find the indulgence unnecessary Miss Bingley. I
find the public rooms here at Pemberley are completely to my satisfaction, as
do, I might add, both Georgiana and Mr. Darcy."
"Yes, but even Pemberley must be refreshed from time
to time. Fashions do change. But perhaps you are unsure which fashions are
appropriate to follow given your new situation?"
"Not at all Miss Bingley. Generally I find good taste
an easy enough fashion to follow. Fortunately, decorating at Pemberley has
never been dictated by the whimsies of fashion and so it need not be constantly
altered."
"Yes, but, you must desire to make it your home."
"It is my home, Miss Bingley. And all I require for
that is the affection of both my husband and my sister, and since I thankfully have
those in abundance I am quite at home. The fabric on any given settee is
certainly secondary, would you not agree?"
While Miss Bingley contemplated a reply, Georgiana joined
the conversation unexpectedly. "Lizzy has redecorated the private sitting
room that she and my brother share in the master suite of rooms. It is very
lovely. I find it very serene and welcoming. Lizzy has agreed to help me
decorate my chambers in a like manner."
"You share a private sitting room?" Miss Bingley
asked disbelievingly.
"Is that not fashionable, Miss Bingley?" Mrs.
Darcy replied archly.
"Well, I certainly would not wish to do so."
"Than how fortunate that it should fall to my
lot." Turning to Georgiana and putting an end to the conversation, Mrs.
Darcy continued, "Shall you play for us this evening Georgiana? I am sure
Miss Bingley would like to hear how much you have improved."
And with that, Miss Bingley was left to ponder another
avenue by which she might embarrass Miss Eliza without threatening the
privilege of visiting her at Pemberley. Perhaps, she mused, my maid Molly, a
very capable gossip, could find some useful information for me.
| | | |
It was a full week into her visit when Miss Bingley's maid,
Molly, at last had some information to share. Molly had been in Miss Bingley's
service for five years now, and they shared a love of gossip and feathers.
Molly was quite sure that her mistress was the most fashionable lady in
England, although she was also just bright enough to realize that she was not,
however, the most pleasant or the most generous.
"I've always told you Miss that these Pemberley
servants are as quiet as a tomb. Why I can walk into any grand house and know
anything you should desire in a day, but not here Miss. And I have not that
much to share even now Miss."
"Very well, but what have you learned?"
"Nothing that will please you, Miss."
"Nothing at all? Is all in this house really so
uniformly charming?"
"So it would seem Miss. The staff have nothing but kind
words for the new mistress."
"How disappointing," Miss Bingley sighed.
"There is one bit I've learned, it has a bit of
scandal to it I dare say. Oh, not as much as if I could get the mistress's maid
to speak with me, but she is as closed mouthed as the master's valet."
"Well, well Molly. This is good. Scandalous is very
good. Do tell me now and if I am satisfied with the information you will of
course find a tolerable surprise in your monthly pay."
"Thank you Miss." Molly lowered her voice.
"'Tis only this Miss. The maids tell me they have never had to make more than
one bed a morning in the master suite, if you take my meaning."
"Are you telling me that they share a bed every
night?"
"Ay Miss. Every night from night through
morning."
"That is rather singular, but not precisely
information I can be satisfied with."
"'Tis all I could learn Miss. Why the staff will only
say that they seem a right happy pair, and walk about the park together in the
mornings."
"I can see that myself Molly. You have been entirely
useless in this matter."
With that Miss Bingley sent away her maid with a petulant
wave of the hand. This visit was not at all what she had hoped for. The Darcys
were annoyingly charmed with each other and every one seemed annoyingly charmed
with the infernal Eliza Bennet. But a full week remained of her visit, and she
was confident she would uncover some morsel of unhappiness upon which she could
feast.
| | | |
Miss Bingley made her way to the library fully aware that this
was the last place anyone would look for her. It had been raining for three
days straight and she felt an urgent need to hide, to mull over the disastrous
decision to come to Pemberley and her unfulfilled secret wish to see the Darcys
in some sort of misery. She would settle, at this juncture, for just a sign
that they were not deliriously pleased with each other. Granted they did not
look upon each other with the foolish, undignified grins and smiles that her
brother and his wife shared, but there was something intense in their looks and
gazes that she found highly disturbing. To say nothing of their very
distressing habit of surreptitiously touching each other when they thought no
one was watching. Miss Bingley, she of the eagle eyes and obsessive interest,
had of course seen it all: Mr. Darcy's fingers cascading down Miss Eliza's neck
and coming to rest upon the bare skin of her shoulder while Mrs. Darcy was
pouring him a cup of tea; Miss Eliza placing her hand upon Mr. Darcy's chest
for just the briefest moment when he turned from the sidebar where he had been
filling his breakfast plate with fruit; and most shockingly, just yesterday, as
they thought the room's attention on Georgiana as she performed at the
pianoforte, she watched as Mr. Darcy ran his hand down Miss Eliza's thigh and
then, Miss Bingley was quite sure, squeezed it, pressed it within his grasp
before removing his hand back to his own lap.
"Ugh!" she groaned as she considered the immodest
behavior-for even if this was a family party, it was behavior far too familiar
for a respectable marriage. "I would have never expected such behavior
from Mr. Darcy," she mumbled. "Why, not even Charles goes so
far." But privately she had
to admit to herself that it revealed a side of Mr. Darcy that in her long,
carefully studied and failed seduction she had never surmised, that she had
never, in fact, even seen a glimpse of, excepting those infuriating days at
Netherfield when he would stare at Miss Eliza with an intensity that had left
her breathless and envious. And as she sat in contemplation, she could not but
acknowledge that these surreptitious immodesties on Mr. Darcy's part were
leaving her breathless and envious even now when only the coldest embers of
hope remained-for to believe in his present or future regret was becoming most
difficult.
As she sat in a chair, slouched in a most unladylike
manner, she began contemplating the annoying happiness that seemed to now
pervade throughout Pemberley-it had never been what one would call a joyful
place, after all, it had always been reserved and dignified as befitted an
estate of its rank and wealth, but it was now undeniably joyful. Caroline
Bingley abhorred joyful.
Her cantankerous revelry was interrupted by loud voices
coming toward the library. In horribly aggravated spirits she was in no humor
to be civil, particularly to Miss Eliza, whose voice she recognized, so she
rose quickly and went into the alcove just off the library and leaned against
the wall in the farthest corner. Even if someone entered the library, here she
would not be seen unless they entered the alcove itself. Just as she positioned
herself in the corner of the alcove the library door opened and she heard the
objects of her contemplation enter.
But what was this? Raised voices? Anger? Was the blissful
pair actually arguing? Oh, what sweet elation Miss Bingley felt as the library
door closed behind them and she was privy to the very lovely sound of what
could only be called a quarrel. What a broad and substantial, if somewhat unsettling
smile spread across her face as she caught Mr. Darcy's raised voice in mid
sentence.
"...and might I inquire why not?"