Page 27 of Miss Bingley’s Return

Elizabeth laughed and took her sister’s hand. “With that, I cannot but agree, dear sister.”

Chapter VII

Deliberate was the only term Elizabeth could use to describe the events of the ensuing days and the dinner that capped it. Though Miss Bingley had made no comment, given no visible sign she thought her designs were in danger of failure, her behavior made that clear without the need to say anything.

When they were together in company, Caroline was full of comments about how well her brother looked with Jane, how wonderful it was that they had reunited. If anyone said something contrary to this design, she did not snap or become angry, but the discontent was there in her eyes, leading her to pivot in order to maintain the story she had been telling. And every time Mr. Bingley’s attention wandered, or Jane spoke to another, Elizabeth could see her watching, assessing the best way to move them back to her preferred narrative.

“Yes, Lizzy, I can see what Caroline is doing,” said Jane on one occasion after a morning visit. “She is not subtle, you know.”

“No, I cannot suppose she is,” agreed Elizabeth. “I assume you mean to do nothing about it?”

Jane’s smile was reassuring. “Caroline may push as much as she wishes, but Mr. Bingley and I must cooperate.”

Elizabeth regarded her sister seriously. “And you have decided that you will not.”

“No, Lizzy, I have decided nothing,” replied Jane. “Should Mr. Bingley choose in my favor and demonstrate it such that I cannot misunderstand, I shall respond accordingly.”

There was something Jane was not saying, and Elizabeth thought she knew what it was. “Yet you have not decided in his favor. Something has changed, Jane—you are no longer enamored with Mr. Bingley.”

“You make me sound like an infatuated girl, Lizzy,” said Jane with a smile.

“Anything but that, Sister dearest,” replied Elizabeth. “I only remember the months after Mr. Bingley’s departure, how you pined for his presence.”

“Perhaps I did, Lizzy,” agreed Jane. “Yet I have learned something of what it means to esteem a man and what I wish in return since then.”

“Yes, my darling sister,” said Elizabeth, kissing Jane’s cheek. “I dare say you have.”

The dinner party to which Miss Bingley invited them was promised to be an intimate affair. “A few friends, nothing more,” said she with a note of cheerful anticipation that was more than a little forced. “We shall be a small party, yet merry all the same.”

Elizabeth could not help but glance at Jane, but her sister did not return it, instead assuring Miss Bingley that they would, of course, attend. For her part, Elizabeth said nothing, allowing Jane to be the mouthpiece between them.

On the night in question, the Bennet sisters arrived at Mr. Bingley’s house—Miss Bingley had not included the Gardiners in her invitation—to his sister’s excessive welcome. There were, Elizabeth noted, perhaps a dozen people in attendance, all friends of Miss Bingley and her brother, Mr. Darcy being one of their number. One of those present, she noticed, was Mr. Harrington, a surprise given how Miss Bingley had looked on the man with asperity the last time she had seen him with Jane.

For a time before the call to dinner, the diners exchanged conversation typical to such occasions—polite, sometimes animated, but with little depth. Though Elizabeth saw Mr. Darcy often and exchanged a few words with him, they did not stand together, the gentleman preferring to observe the company. She even chanced to have a conversation of more substance with Mr. Harrington.

“Miss Elizabeth,” said he, his attention on her though Elizabeth detected more than a few glances about the room, most of which were directed at her elder sister. “I might say it is a surprise to see you here, though we both know that is not true.”

Amused by his observation, Elizabeth said: “If you will forgive me, my presence is less of a surprise than yours.”

The gentleman accepted the point—other than an acknowledging nod, he made no reply. With a mind toward testing him, Elizabeth commented again.

“In truth, I might have thought you were the last person Miss Bingley would invite to such an evening.”

The man turned, his full attention on her. “And why is that so?”

“Perhaps I should keep my own counsel.”

“I assure you, there is no reason to do so.” Mr. Harrington nodded, though Elizabeth noted his eyes were on Jane. “No one who has seen Miss Bingley of late can doubt her wishes.”

“Your own have not been as unconcealed,” said Elizabeth, “but they are marked, nonetheless.”

Mr. Harrington smiled. “Your openness is refreshing, Miss Elizabeth,” replied he.

“My mother laments it,” said Elizabeth, offering a laugh. “She claims men are not interested in an intelligent woman.”

“That is a common enough opinion,” agreed he.

“Is it one you share?”