Page 37 of To Win Her Affections

“I suppose you are a scheming woman who will go to any lengths to obtain what she desires.”

The audacity of this woman was so absurd that Elizabeth nearly released a sardonic burst of laughter. “You consider me a scheming female? That is most curious, Miss Bingley, for I have seen a woman flatter a young girl to secure her brother’s good opinion and insert herself into that man’s notice.”

“And this is the extent of your understanding?” sneered Miss Bingley, her eyes raking over Elizabeth. “One such as you can have no comprehension of the motives that infuse those of my level of society.”

“You question my understanding,” retorted Elizabeth, “but your own appears deficient, Miss Bingley. In saying this, I must assume you are attempting to put yourself on Mr. Darcy’s level, which is laughable considering the relative disparity in your birth.”

“I am a member of society—”

“Through Mr. Darcy’s influence and nothing more,” interrupted Elizabeth. “Mr. Darcy is the grandson of an earl, nephew to another. What are you? The daughter of a tradesman.”

“How dare you!”

“I dare because it is the truth.”

It seemed she had silenced the virago, as Miss Bingley had no ready response. Or she was shocked that Elizabeth would bring up her parentage and was nigh apoplectic with rage and offense.

“Let us speak plainly, Miss Bingley, for I have no interest in continuing this discussion. I neither look down on you nor your brother for your birth—I am much more interested in character than origin. But for you to look down on me for that selfsame reason is absurdity of the highest order. Either you do not understand the mores of society, or you have convinced yourself that your dowry somehow invalidates your birth.”

Though Miss Bingley’s eyes blazed with affront, she did not try to deny what Elizabeth said, which showed that she at least understood the truth.

“I shall not listen to this,” said she. “Your desperation to raise yourself from squalor has led you to throw yourself at Mr. Darcy and his sister. I require you to stop.”

“And I shall repeat myself. For you, of all people, to suggest such a thing is the pot calling the kettle black. I would not throw a shade if I were you, Miss Bingley, as you will not appear spotless by comparison.”

“Listen to me, little Miss Eliza—”

“No, Caroline, I believe the time for Miss Elizabeth to listen to you is over.”

Miss Bingley recoiled at the sound of her brother’s voice, but Elizabeth, though she had not paid any attention to it, had heard the approaching tread of feet in the hallway. Though her back was to the door, she did nothing more than turn aside, which allowed Mr. Bingley to step into the room past her and confront his sister. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner followed him into the room, her uncle watching the pair, anger set into his jaw, while her aunt stepped beside Elizabeth and put a hand on her arm. Elizabeth gave her a grim nod to show that she was unaffected, and turned back to the scene before them.

“Fortunately, one of the servants knew your destination,” said Mr. Bingley, “as it relieves Mr. Gardiner of the task of throwing you from the inn.”

“Charles—”

“Not another word, Caroline.” Mr. Bingley’s voice, which had ever been genial, now cracked like winter ice on a thawing lake. “You have said quite enough already.”

Mr. Bingley turned, and stepped to Elizabeth, grasping her hand, showing her something of a crooked grin. “Miss Bennet, please allow me to apologize for my sister’s poor behavior. I have not done enough to curb her baser instincts.”

“Charles!” repeated Miss Bingley, not so much chastened as furious.

“Her behavior is atrocious, and I am ashamed of her,” continued Mr. Bingley as if he had not heard her speak.

“There is no need to apologize, Mr. Bingley,” said Elizabeth, still eyeing the fuming Miss Bingley. “The breach of good behavior is not yours, so neither is the remedy.”

“Perhaps you are correct,” replied Mr. Bingley, a measure of his good humor restored. “But you know as well as I do that my sister will never offer her regrets, so I must offer them in her stead.”

It was all Elizabeth could do not to laugh at the woman’s flaming face. “Thank you, Mr. Bingley. In whatever measure absolution is necessary, I grant it without reservation.”

“Thank you,” said he.

Mr. Bingley turned to his sister and assumed his stern expression. “Caroline, I shall not have you importuning these good people any longer. You will return to the carriage and instruct the driver to return to Pemberley at once. When I return, we shall chat about the proper way of behaving to those who are your superior in society.”

By now, Miss Bingley’s offense was so violent that Elizabeth thought she might pass out from the experience. “I might think that you would support your own sister. Instead, you support the scheming of this . . . this . . .”

“Do not finish that sentence, Caroline,” growled Mr. Bingley. “There is no amending your behavior. With that truth in mind, I find we can no longer impose upon my friend. As such, we will prepare our effects and depart from Pemberley in two days. I suggest you leave the room before I decide it would be better to leave on the morrow.”

Left with no other choice, Miss Bingley gathered the tatters of her dignity and stalked from the room, with not even a glance for anyone present. Mr. Bingley, for whom such stern behavior was not at all natural, watched her go, remaining impassive. When her footsteps grew distant and indistinct, he nodded once to himself and turned to Elizabeth.