Page 10 of Miss Bingley’s Return

Not long before they arrived at the modiste, the subject came up between them. “How soon do you suppose it will be before you reunite with Mr. Bingley?”

Jane, who had been deep in thought, started a little, though she did not hesitate. “I cannot say, Aunt. As we are not to participate in balls or the like until our gowns are ready, it may be some time.”

“Yet, Miss Bingley has promised to introduce you at the earliest opportunity,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “Do you not suppose Mr. Bingley will be nearby?”

“Perhaps,” said Jane.

“Just remember that London has a way of revealing people more clearly than country visits ever can.”

Jane frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It is much more relaxed in the country, Jane,” replied she. “In London, everyone is trying to impress everyone else—the slightest slip is dissected, examined, and often used as a reason to look down on the offender.”

“That is not all, I think,” said Elizabeth, understanding her aunt’s meaning. “As there are many others around us, it becomes an effort to maintain one’s image. If Miss Bingley were to contradict herself, for example, others might note it and speak of it.”

“Lizzy, I have seen nothing of Miss Bingley that leads me to suspect she is dissembling,” chided Jane.

“I do not cast aspersions on Miss Bingley, Jane. Even the best of us sometimes perform to strangers—if two presentations are at odds, the differences become apparent.”

“Yes,” murmured Jane. “I suppose that is correct.”

Elizabeth did not relish visiting the modiste, for she was not fond of the dressmakers, though she did not make an issue of it. For too many years, she had clashed with her mother in such settings, for their tastes were quite different. When they completed the fittings, cut the needed cloth from the bolts, and ordered the dresses, they took their leave and returned to the street and the crowded pavement, the bright shop windows displaying their wares. At Mrs. Gardiner’s suggestion, they visited a few more shops for accessories, and even just for the pleasure of browsing those items that pleased them.

It was thus a shock when they encountered a man known to them. What was even more of a shock was the discovery that this man was better known to them than Elizabeth knew.

Fitzwilliam Darcy had not planned to be on Bond Street that day. Georgiana was spending the day with their relations, leaving Darcy at sixes and sevens and unwilling to remain in the house all day. Bingley was absent, Fitzwilliam was away on business, and few of his other friends were in town. Being a lover of books, with a fine library he thought it his duty to expand, he had come on the notion of visiting the bookseller and set off without a second thought.

As always, he found the quiet, the sharp smell of leather, the tang of ink and glue soothing, which had resulted in Darcy browsing there longer than he would usually allow. The proprietor, knowing Darcy by sight, complimented his choices and wrapped them for Darcy to carry from the shop. Then he stepped outside, looking for his carriage, impatient to make his way home.

That was when he saw them—three ladies known to him standing like an island amid a sea of moving shoppers. Darcy had not known Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth were in town, and he had not known they shared any connection with Mrs. Gardiner. In normal circumstances, he might have turned away before they saw him, but a sudden thought came to him, and he grew curious, so he turned toward them rather than away. Darcy caught the moment Miss Elizabeth saw him, the first of the ladies to notice his presence. Though the surprise showed her thoughts were akin to his, soon an expression he could not quite name replaced it.

“Mrs. Gardiner,” said Darcy, noting Miss Bennet and Mrs. Gardiner had caught sight of him. “Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth. How do you do?”

“We do well, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Bennet as the three ladies curtseyed to him.

Though Miss Bennet remained inscrutable, Darcy saw the confusion returning to Miss Elizabeth’s face. Knowing her character as he did, it was no surprise when she spoke at once.

“You know our aunt, Mr. Darcy?”

Darcy looked at Mrs. Gardiner, who gave no hint of her feelings. Knowing it was his responsibility—he was their social superior, after all—he nodded to Miss Elizabeth.

“Yes, Miss Elizabeth, I have that privilege. What I was not aware of was the connection between you.”

Miss Elizabeth turned to her aunt, curious rather than suspicious. “It is interesting that you said nothing, Aunt. Mr. Darcy’s name has been on our tongues and on the pages of our letters since October.”

“That is true, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “Yet, as Mr. Darcy is higher in society, good manners dictated we allow him to choose whether to acknowledge us.”

“I know your uncle through business dealings, Miss Elizabeth,” said Darcy, hoping to head off any unpleasantness. “Mr. Gardiner is an astute man of business, one recommended to me by an acquaintance. We have several joint interests.”

“Mr. Darcy has eaten at my table,” added Mrs. Gardiner. Then she turned to Darcy and asked: “How is your excellent sister?”

“Georgiana is well,” replied he. “Today she is visiting with my aunt and her daughters.”

“Which is why you are here at the bookstore rather than attending her,” said Mrs. Gardiner, her expression knowing.

“Yes,” agreed Mr. Darcy.

He studied the Bennet sisters for a moment. “I heard no word of your coming. Mr. Gardiner and I have not spoken in some days.”