Something to Think Of, page 2
She recalled his expression on hearing her speak those words. Mr. Darcy changed color, but the emotion was short-lived, and he listened without attempting to interrupt her while she continued.
“I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive can excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted there. You dare not, you cannot deny that you have been the principal if not the only means of dividing them from each other—of exposing one to the censure of the world for caprice and instability and the other to its derision for disappointed hopes and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind.”
With no slight indignation, she had observed that he listened to her with an air that proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse. He even looked at her with a smile of affected incredulity, prompting her to inquire, “Can you deny that you have done it?”
With assumed tranquility, he then responded, “I have no wish of denying that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your sister or that I rejoice in my success. Toward him, I have been kinder than toward myself.”
Were Elizabeth to rely on Mr. Darcy’s letter, she would never suspect he had a part to play in a possible reunion between Jane and Mr. Bingley. The specific passage belying that possibility came to mind:
Perhaps this concealment, this disguise, was beneath me. It is done, however, and it was done for the best. On this subject, I have nothing more to say, no other apology to offer. If I have wounded your sister’s feelings, it was unknowingly done. Though the motives which governed me may to you very naturally appear insufficient, I have not yet learned to condemn them.
In truth, the events that unfolded prior to his leave-taking fueled her hopes. Immediately upon returning from her hours-long ramble about the park, Elizabeth received word from Charlotte that she had missed the morning’s visitors.
Lady Catherine’s nephews had called during her absence. Mr. Darcy stayed only for a few minutes, but his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam had been sitting with them at least an hour, hoping for Elizabeth’s return.
With his letter’s contents weighing heavy on her mind, Elizabeth could only suppose that indeed Mr. Darcy must bear no ill will toward her. How else is his coming to the parsonage to be explained? What must a man of Mr. Darcy’s temperament care about slighting the Collinses by not calling on them before taking his leave of Kent?
Her heart could not help but whisper he had done it for her, just as she now understood his every visit to the parsonage implicitly had been to see her. Their every seemingly coincidental encounter in the lanes had been by his design.
Is it too much to hope that for my sake, if nothing else, Mr. Darcy sought to redress the harm he caused my sister?
Elizabeth picked up her book and flipped through the pages, hoping to divert her busy mind away from thoughts of Mr. Darcy and suppositions of what he may or may not have done. All in vain.
You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.
However repulsed Elizabeth might have been upon first hearing Mr. Darcy’s ardent avowal, she would be lying if she denied his words now meant something to her, even if she was sure she might never hear them again and even if she was unsure whether she might ever wish to.
Thoughts of Jane’s letter intruded once again, specifically the part that read, I do not dare commit my reversal of fortune to paper, thinking as I do that fate is a fickle friend at best. For now, I will only say my happiness is almost complete.
Staring out the window at the countryside and admiring the abounding sights of spring as far as the eyes could see whisking by, Elizabeth sighed. Barring any travel delays, soon, my dearest Jane and I will be together again. Until such time as I can adequately satisfy my curiosity, I shall think no more on the matter.
Elizabeth’s carriage drove to the Gardiners’ door at the appointed time. The scene was much the same as she remembered it some weeks earlier when she had arrived from Hertfordshire with the Lucases with Jane sitting in the drawing room window awaiting her arrival. When she entered the passage, Jane welcomed Elizabeth with open arms and a smile as bright as the younger sister could ever wish to see.
Elizabeth glanced to the top of the stairs with the expectation of seeing a troop of little boys and girls, eager for attention from an older cousin. They were nowhere around, giving Elizabeth to suspect they were likely away at the nearby park. It was just as well, for Elizabeth’s primary design was the reunion with her sister and the unraveling of the mystery Jane’s letter had wrought.
Sitting beside her sister in the drawing room, Elizabeth said, “Dearest Jane, I cannot tell you how pleased I am seeing you looking so lovely. Pray, I am not speaking out of turn in saying it is most refreshing in comparison to when I was here last.” She took Jane by the hand. “Dare I say it is attributable to the change in circumstances you alluded to in your last letter?”
Jane blushed crimson. Despite her modesty, her natural beauty could not help but shine through.
“I would have to say it has everything to do with it,” she replied. “Oh, Lizzy! It has been so long since I had reason to feel as hopeful as I do.”
Indeed, Jane’s melancholy had persisted for months. Elizabeth feared the combination of Mr. Bingley’s defection and his sister Miss Caroline Bingley’s betrayal of what Jane had supposed was genuine affection between them jaded Jane’s wont to only see the best in people. This picture of her elder sister warmed Elizabeth’s heart. She squeezed her sister’s hand. “Pray, do not keep me in suspense.”
Jane was about to say more when both she and Elizabeth were suddenly roused by the sound of the doorbell. Jane’s face overspread with joy, as though she was expecting someone to call.
Releasing her sister’s hand, Elizabeth’s breath caught. She jumped to her feet.
Any number of thoughts raced through her head, the most unsettling of them all having to do with her suspicion that Jane’s newfound happiness indeed had to do with a renewal of her acquaintance with Mr. Bingley and the possibility that Mr. Darcy had been the means of bringing it about.
Jane stood and smoothed her skirt. Elizabeth also adjusted her attire.
The thought that not only was Mr. Bingley the imminent guest but that Mr. Darcy might be accompanying him also crossed her mind. Before she had time to think about what such a prospect must portend, the door of the drawing room opened, and in walked the Gardiners’ housekeeper with two gentlemen on her heels.
Chapter 3
Very Agreeable Strangers
Until that moment, Elizabeth had not realized how much she was depending on the gentleman caller being Mr. Bingley; more than that, how much she was hoping the other gentleman would be Mr. Darcy. Her heart sank. Then her eyes fell on Jane, whose eyes were full of joy.
Elizabeth did not hear the Gardiners’ housekeeper present the visitors—at least not clearly. Her busy mind was frantically engaged in conjecture and speculation of how she could have been so wrong. Before she knew what she was about, the housekeeper had retreated from the drawing room and she and Jane sat opposite two very agreeable strangers.
When the gentlemen were gone, Elizabeth said, “Jane, you are very sly. Not once did you mention your having met Mr. Hemmingsworth in your letters to me while I was in Kent.”
“Dearest Lizzy,” Jane began, her voice filled with more joyfulness than contrition, “pray you will forgive me. Not that I did not want to tell you. I just did not know how to tell you.”
“Whatever does that mean, Jane?” Elizabeth asked. “You realize you can tell me anything.”
Jane nodded. “I do, but I feared if I spoke of my new acquaintance, you might think of me as being capricious.”
“Do you mean regarding your affection for Mr. Bingley?”
“You always thought his feelings for me were greater than I did. I did not wish to disappoint you.”
“I am sorry I caused you to feel you could not share your budding feelings for Mr. Hemmingsworth with me. I should have liked to have known.”
Elizabeth spoke nothing but the truth in saying that. Part of her ill feelings toward Mr. Darcy had to do with his role in separating Jane and his friend Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth recalled having argued to him that Jane’s attachment to Mr. Bingley was strong, even though Mr. Darcy had stated that he had detected no such sentiments on Jane’s part.
Is it possible that I may have been mistaken? Jane, herself, had suggested an attachment between Mr. Bingley and her evidently was not meant to be despite my observations to the contrary.
Was I wrong to attribute my sister’s sentiments as her way of protecting her broken heart? I, better than anyone, understand Jane’s penchant to hide her true feelings from everyone. Only those who know her best have an inkling of what she is feeling.
On the other hand, I cannot deny the events that have just unfolded.
Based on all Elizabeth observed, Jane was very fond of Mr. Hemmingsworth. Not only did her elder sister smile a lot, but she also laughed. Elizabeth told her sister as much. She asked when and how the two of them met.
“Oh, you will never believe the odd confluence of events that led to my meeting him. Ironically, there is a connection to Mr. Bingley himself.”
“Mr. Bingley?” Elizabeth asked, her voice a mixture of intrigue and concern. “What does your meeting Mr. Hemmingsworth have to do with Mr. Bingley?”
“Well, just over a fortnight ago, while I was attending the theater with our aunt and uncle, I espied Mr. Bingley.”
“You did? Why did you not mention this in your letters? Did the two of you have a chance to speak?”
Jane shook her head. “We did not. I was sitting in the lower level, and I noticed him high above in one of the private boxes. Of course, he could not have seen me. It appears the young lady seated next to him was all that caught his eye. The prospect of it all was a bit too much for me to bear.
“I excused myself from my party and hastened into the lobby. Not paying attention to where I was going, I collided with Mr. Hemmingsworth.” Jane covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile. “Oh! Lizzy, I have never been more embarrassed in all my life, so much so I burst into tears.”
Elizabeth’s own smile widened. “And then what happened?”
“I am afraid things only got worse, for he was holding a drink in his hand–a burgundy wine, no less. I caused him to spill his drink on his crisp white cravat. Aghast, I somehow retrieved a handkerchief from my purse, and I started dabbing spilled wine from his cravat, which undoubtedly made it worse. Fortunately, there was no one around to observe my impetuous behavior.”
Jane’s composure grew uncharacteristically animated. She continued, “I knew not what I was about until he took my hand in his and leaned closer.”
Elizabeth’s eyes opened wide. Albeit amused, she stayed silent.
“He then took the handkerchief from me. He said, ‘If you continue to go on in this way, someone is bound to think you are my wife.’”
Jane blushed a little.
Elizabeth could honestly say she had not seen her sister so lively in what seemed like years. She liked seeing Jane this way. She really did.
Elizabeth wanted to know more about Jane’s budding relationship with this new acquaintance. The last time she saw Jane, Elizabeth was sure her sister was head over heels in love with Mr. Charles Bingley and was suffering a broken heart because of his defection.
It seemed that Jane had moved on and rather quickly at that, which posed a conundrum for Elizabeth. Part of her reason for refusing Mr. Darcy’s hand in marriage was because of Jane’s disappointed hopes and his role in causing it.
Elizabeth loved her sister very much, and she wanted her to be happy. She decided to support her and find out more about this promising relationship with someone new.
“What did you say?” Elizabeth cried.
“I offered a heartfelt apology, and I begged his forgiveness. At which point he said he would forgive me on but one condition—that I must tell him my name.”
“How scandalous!” Elizabeth exclaimed half-jokingly, half-seriously. “And then what happened?”
“What else could I do but curtsey and hurry away? I returned to my seat as fast as I could only to find, a little later, that he had followed me, or at least that is what I thought at the time, when all along he was seated directly behind me—he and his brother. For a moment, I thought I was seeing double.” Jane laughed a little. “Oh, Lizzy, do you not agree that Mr. Hemmingsworth and his brother are two of the most handsome men you have ever seen?”
Elizabeth dared not argue her sister’s point. The two gentlemen were very good-looking indeed—tall, dark, and handsome with dark curls and arresting eyes. Everything about their appearance gave much to admire. What was more, the gentlemen were most congenial.
Were I to guess, I would say they are aged four and twenty, perhaps a little older, but certainly not as old as Mr. Darcy, she further considered in silence.
Still, there was a seriousness about the gentlemen that belied their youth. It amazed Elizabeth the ease with which she and the younger brother fell into conversation while Jane spoke with the older.
This characterization of the older versus the younger caused Elizabeth to chuckle inside. The gentlemen had jokingly referred to themselves in those terms, what with their being twins born mere minutes apart. The brotherly affection they shared was evident. Why, they even completed each other’s sentences. The older of the two bore the name Stanford and the younger Mitchell.
“Jane, that is an interesting initial meeting to be sure. As much as I want to know more, I cannot be satisfied entirely until you tell me what became of Mr. Bingley. Did the two of you ever come face-to-face that night?”
“No,” Jane said, her voice bearing a slight hint of regret. “I cannot say with certainty what became of Mr. Bingley after that. I am afraid my mind was more agreeably engaged with thoughts of Mr. Hemmingsworth for the rest of the evening.”
For Elizabeth’s part, a hint of disappointment could not be repressed. She had been absolutely persuaded of her sister’s love for Mr. Bingley for so long, perhaps to her own detriment.
Sensing this, Jane cried, “Now, Lizzy, surely you cannot be too disappointed in my saying that. It has been months since Mr. Bingley left Hertfordshire with the promise of returning. Months. You cannot expect me to pine away for him forever.”
“Jane, are you saying you no longer have any feelings at all for Mr. Bingley?”
“No—I am not saying that. What I am saying is that when and if he and I ever do come face-to-face again, I am sure we shall meet as little more than indifferent acquaintances.”
Elizabeth exhaled a deep sigh in resignation. “If you say so, I have no other choice than to believe you.”
“I say so.”
The younger woman half-smiled. “And here you are weeks later, receiving a morning call from the gentleman and his brother. Tell me, has he called often since making your acquaintance?”
“Yes, he has,” Jane confessed. “He has even dined here at my uncle’s behest. They have several mutual acquaintances in business. However, today was the first time his brother joined him. I believe I owe that particular courtesy to you.”
“Me?” Elizabeth asked.
“Indeed, for I might have mentioned to Mr. Hemmingsworth that you were due to arrive from Kent,” Jane said smilingly.
“Pray, do not tell me you have taken on the role of playing matchmaker, dearest Jane.”
“Well,” Jane began, “he is a single man in possession of a good fortune. I can only suppose he must be in want of a wife.”
Elizabeth said, “That makes two single men with good fortunes in want of wives, does it not?”
Jane smiled. Placing her finger on her chin, she said, “I suppose I never really thought about that.”
“Heaven forbid. No one who knows you best would ever think of you as being mercenary.”
Jane scoffed. “No one other than Miss Caroline Bingley, that is.”
“Oh, let us not spoil this happy moment with thoughts of that miserable woman,” Elizabeth said. “I am much more interested in continuing our discussion of the Hemmingsworth brothers.”
Elizabeth then leaned closer to her sister. “You mentioned the gentlemen having good fortunes. Pray, tell me, how wealthy are the Hemmingsworths?”
“Lizzy!” Jane exclaimed.
“What? Let us not pretend that is not the first question our mother will ask once she finds out about them. I simply want to know what I ought to say.”
Chapter 4
A Moment’s Reflection
Darcy looked up upon espying his friend Charles Bingley enter the room. It had been ages since they last saw each other. For a while, they had kept in touch by way of letters. That was before Darcy’s disastrous proposal to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Since then, he had cut himself off from almost everyone.
“I had expected your return to town weeks ago.” Taking a seat, Bingley sank contentedly into the finely upholstered chair.
Situated on the opposite side of his large mahogany desk, Darcy set aside the book he had been reading. “Indeed, but I traveled to Somersetshire rather than come directly to London.”
“In your last letter, you mentioned Miss Elizabeth being in Kent visiting her friend, Mrs. Collins. Did you have occasion to spend time in each other’s company?”
“Numerous occasions, in fact,” Darcy said.
“Did she happen to ask about me? I suppose she must wonder about my failure to return to Hertfordshire as I had promised.”
Did she ever, Darcy considered. Much to his chagrin, his deliberate interference in his friend and her sister’s relationship had been the catalyst for his most heated debate with Elizabeth ever—the one in which she rejected his offer of marriage.
“She did,” Darcy said, hoping he would not have to say more.
“You would not believe this, but I could swear I have seen Miss Bennet here in town—on many occasions, in fact. At the theater, at a shop in Mayfair, and at one time on a crowded street. I always supposed it was just my imagination running away with me. Surely, were Miss Bennet in town, she would have made her presence known to me.”
