Page 105 of Pride, Prejudice & Wicked Pleasure

"Some acquaintance or other, my dear, I suppose; I am sure I do not know."

"La!" replied Kitty, "it looks just like that man that used to be with him before. Mr. what's-his-name. That tall, proud man."

"Good gracious! Mr. Darcy!—and so it does, I vow. Well, any friend of Mr. Bingley's will always be welcome here, to be sure; but else I must say that I hate the very sight of him."

Jane looked at Lizzy with surprise and concern. She knew but little of their meeting in Derbyshire, and therefore felt for the awkwardness which must attend her sister, in seeing him almost for the first time after receiving his explanatory letter. Both sisters were uncomfortable enough. Each felt for the other, and of course for themselves; and their mother talked on, of her dislike of Mr. Darcy, and her resolution to be civil to him only as Mr. Bingley's friend, without being heard by either of them. But Lizzy had sources of uneasiness which could not be suspected by Jane, to whom she had never yet had courage to show Mrs. Gardiner's letter, or to relate her own change of sentiment towards him. To Jane, he could be only a man whose proposals she had refused, and whose merit she had undervalued; but to her own more extensive information, he was the person to whom the whole family were indebted for the first of benefits, and whom she regarded herself with an interest, if not quite so tender, at least as reasonable and just as what Jane felt for Bingley. Her astonishment at his coming—at his coming to Netherfield, to Longbourn, and voluntarily seeking her again, was almost equal to what she had known on first witnessing his altered behaviour in Derbyshire.

*****

Darcy could tell Bingley was anxious as they came upon Longbourn House. Though he shared his friend’s disquiet, the abode before them was not one that the former would have sought to enter earlier in the year. A fortnight had yet to pass since last he saw Miss Elizabeth, but the absence might as well have lasted months. He had had every intention of assessing her sentiments when he had called upon her last at the inn and, depending upon the results, was ready to propose then and there. His love had grown and likewise his hunger for her. He wondered if the flame of desire would ever settle into a simmer. Each instance had only added fuel to the fire, quenching his thirst for the moment but tormenting him in between. He wanted dreadfully to reenact their intercourse at the cottage. There was still so much he could show her.

Bingley’s eyes shined upon seeing Jane, who appeared flushed but received them with tolerable ease, and with a propriety of behaviour equally free from any symptom of resentment or any unnecessary complaisance. Miss Elizabeth said little to either gentleman and sat down again to her work. To Darcy, she appeared in good health and as lovely as ever. He was glad to see no effects of the tension that she must have suffered and was pleased that he had a hand in relieving her of further apprehensions.

Pleased and embarrassed, Bingley was received by Mrs. Bennet with a degree of civility that heightened the colour in her two daughters, especially when contrasted with the cold and ceremonious politeness of her curtsey and address to his friend. Though he had found it easy enough to be friendly in the company of the Gardiners, Darcy could not do the same at Longbourn. After inquiring after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, he fell into silence. Miss Elizabeth looked at him only once, and he could read nothing in her gaze. She had been less guarded in Derbyshire, and he wondered what would have occasioned her reticence when she ought to have been more at ease in the comfort of her own home? Had the recent events taken a toll upon her after all? Was she embarrassed at having shared the truth of Lydia and Wickham with him? Or had some of her prior hostility, perhaps fanned by her mother, returned?

He was not seated by her, but he had a good view of her and her sister, whom he observed almost equally. Miss Bennet shared in some of her sister’s reserve, though Bingley’s attentions were increasingly animated and directed toward her. After what her sister had disclosed to him, Darcy began to understand Miss Bennet more in the light of shyness than indifference. But what could explain the behaviour of Miss Elizabeth, who wanted none of timidity? He had seen her flustered in Derbyshire, and he attributed her reaction to the surprise of his appearance and there having been no closure, of sorts, to the events at Hunsford. On the natural, she should be a little embarrassed, especially if she were ashamed, as Abby had indicated, of how she had judged him previously.

They had gotten over the awkwardness of meeting while in Derbyshire, or so he’d thought. She had seemed more receptive to his company. Had time and distance cooled her openness? Was she concerned that he had encouraged him too much in Derbyshire and feared that he might renew his offer? Women were creative creatures when they wished to make their interest known to the opposite sex. They might be demure in their attempts, but if a man is alert, the indications are there. A look, a word, a smile was often all that was necessary. Only the more introverted, such as Miss Bennet, or awkward women might appear apathetic. Miss Elizabeth was neither bashful nor inarticulate. That she refrained from engaging with him must signify a detachment. Through the whole of their visit, Miss Elizabeth inquired after his sister and said no more to him.

However, he allowed it was no easy matter to edge in a word through her mother’s prattle.

"It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away," said Mrs. Bennet. "I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People did say you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope it is not true. A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood since you went away. Miss Lucas is married and settled. And one of my own daughters. I suppose you have heard of it. Indeed, you must have seen it in the papers. It was in The Times and The Courier, I know; though it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only said, 'Lately, George Wickham, Esq. to Miss Lydia Bennet,' without there being a syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or anything. It was my brother Gardiner's drawing up, too, and I wonder how he came to make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?"

Bingley replied that he did and made his congratulations.

"It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married," continued Mrs. Bennet, "but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very hard to have her taken such a way from me. They are gone down to Newcastle, a place quite northward, it seems, and there they are to stay I do not know how long. His regiment is there; for I suppose you have heard of his leaving the militia, and of his being gone into the regulars. Thank Heaven, he has some friends, though perhaps not so many as he deserves."

Miss Elizabeth looked uncomfortable and asked of Bingley whether he meant to make any stay in the country at present.

“A few weeks, I believe,” Bingley replied.

"When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley," said Mrs. Bennet, "I beg you will come here, and shoot as many as you please on Mr. Bennet's manor. I am sure he will be vastly happy to oblige you, and will save all the best of the covies for you."

When the gentlemen rose to go away, Mrs. Bennet invited and engaged them to dine at Longbourn in a few days’ time.

"You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley," she added, "for when you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with us, as soon as you returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you, I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your engagement."

Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said something of his concern at having been prevented by business.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Mrs. Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask them to stay and dine there that day; but, though she always kept a very good table, she did not think anything less than two courses could be good enough for a man on whom she had such anxious designs, or satisfy the appetite and pride of one who had ten thousand a year.

Lizzy was glad to see them go and the misery of the hour come to an end. Her mother’s officious attention to Bingley, contrasted to her treatment of Mr. Darcy, had been excruciating. Knowing that her mother owed to Mr. Darcy the preservation of her favourite daughter from irremediable infamy, Lizzy had felt hurt and distressed to a most painful degree by a distinction so ill applied. Were the same fair prospect to arise at present as had flattered them a year ago, every thing, she was persuaded, would be hastening to the same vexatious conclusion. At that instant, she felt that years of happiness could not make Jane or herself amends for moments of such painful confusion.

"The first wish of my heart," she had said to herself, "is never more to be in company with either of them. Their society can afford no pleasure that will atone for such wretchedness as this! Let me never see either one or the other again!"

As soon as they were gone, Lizzy walked out to recover her spirits; or in other words, to dwell without interruption on those subjects that must deaden them more. Mr. Darcy's behaviour astonished and vexed her.

"Why, if he came only to be silent, grave, and indifferent," said she, "did he come at all?"

She could settle it in no way that gave her pleasure.

"He could be still amiable, still pleasing, to my uncle and aunt, when he was in town; and why not to me? If he fears me, why come hither? If he no longer cares for me, why silent? Teasing, teasing, man! I will think no more about him."

Her resolution was for a short time involuntarily kept by the approach of her sister, who joined her with a cheerful look, which showed her better satisfied with their visitors, than Lizzy.

"Now," said she, "that this first meeting is over, I feel perfectly easy. I know my own strength, and I shall never be embarrassed again by his coming. I am glad he dines here on Tuesday. It will then be publicly seen that, on both sides, we meet only as common and indifferent acquaintances."