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“You lied to your brother and maligned my character!” Jane’s hands clenched at her sides. It was all she could do not to shake a fist at Miss Bingley.
“Charles!” Miss Bingley nearly shrieked. “Will you allow her speak to me this way?”
Jane had avoided looking in Mr. Bingley’s direction lest she read disgust and horror on his face. Her behavior could hardly be less ladylike. But he crossed his arms and regarded his sister with raised eyebrows. “What would you have me do, Caroline? It appears you did deceive me. Should I chastise Miss Bennet for speaking the truth?”
Jane wanted to jump into the air and cheer.
Caroline huffed as her eyes darted from Mr. Bingley to Jane and even to Maggie, who gave her a skeptical look. She tossed her head. “I will not remain to be spoken to in this way!” she announced before turning on her heel and marching down the pathway.
Once she was out of sight, the fire in Jane’s veins burned out; she felt as limp as a rag doll. Where had she found the nerve to address Miss Bingley in such a way? And what did Mr. Bingley think? He had defended her, but he must be horrified at her unladylike behavior.
She pressed two fingers against her lips, incredulous at what she had dared to say. Of course, silence now will do me no good.
Mr. Bingley had been observing his sister’s retreating form, but now he turned solemn eyes on Jane, his arms still crossed over his chest. No doubt her display of temper would be completely unacceptable to a gentleman such as Mr. Bingley, who strove to see the good in everyone.
Yes, his sister had lied, but surely it was a family matter for Mr. Bingley to address—not an opportunity for Jane to hurl accusations at the other woman. The hardness in his gaze told her all she needed to know. Jane knew she had lost him.
“I-I apologize,” she mumbled. “I sh-should never have spoken to your s-sister in such a way.” She swallowed past a lump in her throat. “I do not know what came over m-me! I c-cannot apologize enough!”
He still regarded her with an accusatory glare. Of course, he could not forgive her. Her display of anger was unforgivable! It was arrogant even to request such consideration. He could never grant it. What had she been thinking, giving free rein to her anger?
Too late, Jane also recalled her aunt’s warning about Miss Bingley’s abilities to spread rumors. Would she attempt to retaliate through malicious gossip? Tears threatened, and Jane squeezed her eyes tightly closed to prevent them from falling. Weeping in front of Mr. Bingley would make her humiliation complete.
She dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand, as if that would somehow hold back the tears. But she knew the only thing that could save her from a mortifying scene was a swift exit.
Before Jane was even aware of having made a decision, her feet were carrying her away from Mr. Bingley, pounding on the gravel faster and faster until she was running. Away from Mr. Bingley and his sister. Away from Gracechurch Street. Away from all the expectations and obligations that constrained her.
It fe
lt good to run. The city provided few opportunities for exercise. Houses and trees were a blur. People flashed by, some giving her quizzical looks. But she ignored them all. A burning pain in her side forced Jane to slow to a walk, and finally to drop onto a bench by the side of the road.
Breathing heavily, she glanced at the street, the houses, and shops. It was completely unfamiliar. Jane did not have the least idea where she was.
Chapter Five
Bingley found himself unexpectedly alone in the middle of the park. Jane had suddenly sprinted away in the grip of evident distress. The Gardiners’ maid, Maggie, had swiftly followed her.
Bingley briefly considered running after them, but a parade of two people sprinting through the London streets would attract enough unwanted attention. Three people would be beyond enough.
He stared at the bare branches of the trees silhouetted against the February sky—rapidly turning from blue to gray—and considered that it might soon begin to rain.
This was a bit of a dilemma. Should he return to the Gardiners’ house unaccompanied by any of its inhabitants? How awkward. He also might encounter Jane in the drawing room, sobbing into a handkerchief, when she obviously did not want to see him. Although she had run in the opposite direction from Gracechurch Street, there was every reason to suppose she would swiftly make her way to safety.
The only sensible choice was a strategic retreat. Bingley sighed and turned toward Darcy House.
Soon his boots were ringing on the cobblestones, and Bingley could contemplate recent events at leisure. He was tempted to curse, although he abhorred the practice. The morning had been proceeding delightfully. Jane had agreed to continue their friendship. She had not chosen to cut Bingley or his sisters, and she did not hold Bingley responsible for his sisters’ subterfuge. He had experienced genuine hope for the first time in months.
Then it had all fallen apart—because of Caroline. It was no wonder Jane had lost her temper; Caroline had all but accused the other woman of deception and malice. Bingley himself had experienced something akin to anger.
Jane’s castigation of Caroline had been a bit of a shock. Who would have guessed such a mild-mannered woman was capable of such sharp words? But the surprise was not necessarily unwelcome. His sister needed to face the consequences of her actions, particularly when impugning another person’s character.
Bingley was at his wit’s end with her and would need to speak pointedly with her when they next met. Fortunately, he was unlikely to encounter her today, unless she made another unscheduled appearance at Darcy House.
I will be back in time for luncheon with Darcy. What should I tell him of the day’s events?
Bingley stopped suddenly in the middle of the street, prompting oaths from a passing cab driver. Darcy had been Caroline and Louisa’s ally in convincing Bingley of Jane’s indifference to him and persuading him to quit Hertfordshire.
Had Darcy known of Jane’s presence in London?
