“I… I had only heard some dreadful news about one of the local officers, who committed some serious offense and is to suffer a severe punishment for it.” Marianne’s hand lingered inches above his. She did wish to dance, for she had promised to make merry, and had thus far failed abysmally. “Pray, do I know you, sir?”
“As I said, we arrived only today. You may introduce yourself, though I know it is not quite proper, or we could choose to maintain this air of mystery, for I had thought to unmask myself at just the right moment.”
Her hand fell into his, and Marianne smiled. “Now I am vastly curious, and I shall ply you with questions!” She wondered if perhaps he were a great lord or peer of some kind, or a person of such reputation that he would be recognized in a new place. She ought to be wary, but she was instead quite intrigued. She took one of the goblets and drained its contents, and then did the same with the second one. Feeling herself quite fortified, she was resolved to make it through the dance without shedding a tear over either of the wastrels who had taken her in.
He led her to the dance, and it was he who began by asking questions. “Where are you from? And how long have you been in Meryton?”
“Perhaps I have lived here all my life.”
“Oh. Have you?”
She shook her head. “No. I suppose I do not sound like I am from Hertfordshire? My family is from Sussex, but we presently reside in Devonshire. My mother and sisters and I are visiting our cousins here.” She decided that if he meant to be opaque, she would be vague as well; the mystery of it was ratherthrilling, and she silently prayed that he was not a cad, while convinced that surely all menmustbe.
Despite this resolution, Marianne was able to converse energetically with the gentleman, and she was glad of the distraction. They spoke of idle things, their fondness for music and outdoor diversions, and when he declared that he scarcely read at all, though he often wished to, Marianne was relieved that she might consider no more than a passing friendship with the newcomer, for he intended to remain in their area for quite some time.
It was only when the conversation turned to his residency there that things ran aground. “Though you will not reveal yourself so early in the evening, I can hazard a guess where you shall reside,” Marianne said, unable to resist some curiosity. “There are only a couple houses in the area that are grand enough to accommodate a lady as fine as your sister by marriage appears to be. Mrs. Jennings, who accompanied us into Hertfordshire, has only quit Purvis Lodge four days ago, and I doubt it should be let again so quickly. Which means… but wait, it cannot be Netherfield, for the odious Mr. Bingley means to return there next week, if the rumor is to be believed.”
“The odious Mr. Bingley?”
“Ugh! I wish he would not come amongst us at all, for….” As a turn of the dance required them to separate, Marianne was glad of the interruption, for it occurred to her that perhaps she may in fact be dancing with the odious Mr. Bingley. Kitty had been sure it was him when the man entered with his sister, but Mary had given some reason why it was impossible. Marianne could scarcely recall, for she had been wretched at the time, and forever more so in the interval.
Still, Marianne began to feel inexplicably apprehensive. When they came back together for the next figure of the dance,the gentleman prompted her to elaborate. “Why do you call this Mr. Bingley odious? Have you any acquaintance with him?”
The room was lit by hundreds of candles, but the glowing gold light was still dim, and the man was masked; even so, Marianne attempted to assess his expression as best she could. She sensed a trace of trepidation in his eyes, and the longer she remained silent, it began to look like panic. And then, all the vexation she felt at Willoughby and Wickham seemed to rush to the surface, and she allowed it to overcome her. She hoped thiswasMr. Bingley.
“Because he used my cousin Jane very ill, last autumn. Everyone believed him to be in love with her – the entire neighborhood had been given every reason to expect a match between them! He even threw a ball in her honor, and then abruptly departed the county afterward. He did not even deign to bid her farewell; his vicious sister, who had been a false friend to my cousins, wrote a letter dripping with triumph in declaring that they meant never to return. I think him the cruelest, most heartless man in the world, and I have known my share of villains!”
He blinked, his mouth agape, and he missed the next steps of their dance. “Perhaps he does mean to return to her, and his sister misled your cousin for some purpose of her own.”
His stumble caused Marianne to falter, and he reached out to steady her, but Marianne stepped out of the formation of dancers and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “If that is what he meant, he might have made it known to her, rather than allowing her to believe for these last six weeks that she had been trifled with. Fortunately, she has been spirited away to London with a fine new wardrobe, along with Lizzy, where they shall divert themselves in Mayfair with my friend Mrs. Jennings. We are all sure she shall soon forget him.”
Mr. Bingley came to stand with her, removed from the dance entirely. “Jane is in London? Since when?”
“Aha! I knew it,” Marianne hissed at him. “You have come too late. Jane and Lizzy left for London on the first of January.” She glared at him, but inside she felt some confusion. He had only left London that morning, and Mrs. Jennings had promised to make haste in taking Jane to call on the Bingleys. “Have you not seen her in town?”
“No, I have not – I have been much occupied with Lady Rebecca’s family, for her brothers and cousin are my dearest friends. If she called while I was away from home, my sisters never told me of it.”
“I suppose they would not have,” she snarled. “I heard that they made it clear while they were at Netherfield that they did not approve of Jane’s relations – my relations – and were often implying they desire you to make a match with Miss Darcy.”
“Never! She is too like my own sister, they know that.”
Marianne shook her head. “I do not speak of what they know, but of how they behaved; Lizzy would have no reason to misrepresent their behavior. She told me they run roughshod over you, which I daresay explains why it has taken you so long to return. Well, I am glad you are too late, for we all believe she deserves better, and dear Mrs. Jennings is determined that she shall find my cousins far better matches than capricious cads who break their hearts and expose them to the derision of all of Meryton!”
“Good God!” Mr. Bingley removed his mask, letting it drop to the floor as he covered his face in his hands and groaned. “You paint me as the worst sort of villain, Miss…? Lord, you have torn me to shreds and I do not know your name.”
“My name is Marianne Dashwood, and I knowexactlywho you are, sir. You are indeed the very worst sort of villain, to trifle with a heart so gentle and eager. What makes you think she would have you back again, if she had not left Meryton? She is the heiress to Longbourn, now, and has twenty thousand pounds from her uncle; no doubt you shall often hear it spoken of by the gossips here tonight, and I do hope it torments you.”
“I care nothing for these things! That is, I am glad for her – but whatever happened to Mr. Collins?” He shook his head in confusion, his eyes glistening with tears in the candlelight. “I loved her even when I believed her to be penniless.”
Marianne gave a snort of derision. “Love is not cruel, Mr. Bingley.”
“Well, it is not easy, either! I was convinced by my sisters, I will admit it – they persuaded me of Jane’s indifference.”
“How could you have believed it? How could they know better than yourself what had passed between you?”
“I… I do not know,” he stammered. The tiny, satirical looking woman he had called Lady Rebecca stalked over, grinning boldly at their altercation. Already, murmurs of curiosity rippled through the crowd around them, but Marianne cared not a whit what the good people of Meryton thought at such a moment.
“Charles, whatever is the matter? Miss Marianne, I presume? Whatever have you done to my brother?”
