Page 12 of The Widower of Pemberley

Darcy also noticed that Bingley found Jane Bennet to be an interesting figure from how he quickly inserted himself into the conversation around the girl.

Bingley made the group laugh, and Miss Bennet regularly turned her cloudy eyes towards his friend with a smile that made her lovely despite the deep pox marks over her face.

It was a terrible misfortune for the Bennet family that the poor girl was blind.

Darcy did not know this, but every matron in the room was disappointed—Mrs. Bennet included—when Bingley spent the better portion of the evening in conversation with Miss Bennet.

Mrs. Bennet’s disappointment came because she had wholly ceased thinking of her eldest daughter as a marriageable being.

There might be some unsuitable person whomighttake a scarred and blind wife, but no sought-after man, no member of that delightful species who occupied such a large place in Mrs. Bennet’s heart and hopes, no single gentleman of large fortune,could ever fall in love with someone who had suffered the way that Jane had.

Thus Mrs. Bennet’s chief thought when she saw Mr. Bingley pay attention to her oldest daughter was that he didnotpay attention to Elizabeth, upon whom her hopes for one of the girls making an exceptional marriage chiefly rested.

She likewise thought nothing of the attention that Mr. Darcy paid to Elizabeth.

This second matter was excusable.

Mr. Darcy chiefly looked at Elizabeth with a deep frown. He did not approach close enough to listen to her conversation, and it is likely that Mrs. Bennet thought that he was paying attention to his sister and not her daughter.

While the neighbourhood would have, in general, been eager to see which of their daughters Mr. Darcy might turn towards, his behaviour of declaring that the partners he had danced with were ugly,andthat he would show no kindness towards Elizabeth Bennet because he despised pretty women, had convinced all that he was a disagreeable, unpleasant man, above being pleased, and that it would be no kindness to a soul to wishhisattentions upon them.

In the big coach and four on the way home, Georgiana was full of conversation about Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bennet. Each delighted her. Miss Bennet was all that was kind, all that was sweet, and all that was lovely in Georgiana’s eyes. “It is easy as one speaks to her to forget that she cannot see. Her eyes are clouded, but the way she addresses a person—she speaks in such a way as to make me believe that I am better, kinder, nicer than I am.”

“You are without reproach,” Darcy said in reply. “There is nothing wanting in your character.”

Georgiana laughed. “Youmay say that. I have flaws! I am too quiet, and I sometimes think mean thoughts about people. Miss Elizabeth does too. She said so.”

“I never think mean thoughts about anyone!” Bingley exclaimed. “Not unless I absolutely must, and even then I hate the necessity.”

“I do not believe that is a virtue,” Darcy said. “To think well of everyone suggests a lack of discernment and failure of judgment. I am glad that whatever my flaws, many though they are, a belief in the universal goodness of mankind does not rank amongst their number.”

This statement of ill mood went unchallenged, though Bingley frowned in some concern at his friend.

Mr. Bingley was deeply concerned for Darcy.

He had not seen his dear friend since the death of his wife.

Immediately he had noted that Darcy was thinner, quieter, and with a burning inside that pushed him into flashes of open anger and great irritability. Darcy never fully lost his temper, and that only made Bingley more concerned that he could perceive any such emotion.

Darcy only appeared easy and happy in the presence of his daughter, and a little bit with his sister. Otherwise, he was quiet to the point of rudeness, refused to engage in polite conversation with Bingley’s sisters, and acted so much like a bear that Caroline was on the verge of abandoning her marital aspirations towards him.

But what else could be expected?

Within the course of a few months, Mr. Darcy had lost his mother to the natural consequences of age and illness, and thenhis wife in a wholly unexpected accident. Only a strange man indeed would not be deeply affected.

The previous Season, Mr. Bingley had perceived that Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were not on good terms, but Darcy was close about the matter. He was generally close. He did not complain about his wife, not even to his dearest friends.

The discord was obvious to one who knew Darcy as well as Bingley. He had wondered whether there was some way to achieve a reconciliation, but when he had attempted to broach the subject with Darcy, his friend had pretended that nothing was amiss. So, alas, the lovely Mrs. Darcy and the handsome Mr. Darcy rarely appeared together, and they pursued their entertainments separately.

Darcy had still taken the sudden and tragic death of his wife severely. Bingley’s friend thought deeply, felt deeply, and had a profound sense of duty and a deep kindness towards those who needed his aid.

Thus, Bingley knew his own duty: he must be cheerful, talkative, and eager to bring Darcy into company. He would distract his friend from his melancholy until he began to forget and until time repaired his damaged spirits.

Making the acquaintance of Miss Bennet delighted Bingley, but he had no thoughts of flirtation.

Matters between men and women were arranged by the fundamental rules of society. Pretty girls were presented by their matron mothers or aunts at balls for the inspection of such gentlemen as Mr. Bingley—hewouldmarry one of them someday, but only when he found one whose conversation and looks heparticularlyliked.

His father had always told him that when he married, he must marry to please his heart, and that he should be in no hurryto wed. It took time to know a woman well enough to discover whether it would be wise to pair one’s life with hers. Above all, his father had insisted to Bingley, he must be certain ofherheart andhercharacter and not merely his own.