A Sense of Obligation Page 18
Jane smiled. “It is true. Without Bingley there, I do not care much to go.”
*****
In London, Bingley awoke in his hotel room, and after a light breakfast, set out on his day. He was to meet Darcy at the solicitor’s at eleven. He arrived at the business offices of Bingley & Son at nine o’clock.
“Mr. Bingley, quite prompt!” his manager greeted him, and Bingley noted the surprise in his voice. He had not realised he had a reputation for tardiness.
“I have limited time in London. I leave this evening.”
The two settled to work, and Bingley smiled in satisfaction when the task was completed. He always saw to his business matters before, but now with marriage and a family on the horizon, it took on new meaning. Now it was no longer his father’s legacy, but his sons’ future. Sons with Jane. He smiled at the thought.
“I look forward to meeting the new Mrs. Bingley,” the manager said.
“I am uncertain when we will arrive in London for the Season, but I am certain she will enjoy meeting you.”
Bingley smiled again, imagining Jane with the appellation of Mrs. Bingley. His mother had an interest in the business affairs. Indeed, her fortune was added to the enterprise. His grandfather and great-grandfather had built the business and amassed a fortune. His father’s marriage to the heiress of a competitor cemented their profit. Modelling their lives like the gentry, Bingley was sent to school and university—where he met Darcy, who had been delayed a year due to illness. His sisters were educated at seminaries in Town and had dowries of twenty thousand pounds. Bingley’s father and grandfather merely presided over the business dealings, but the family still had their hand in trade. Jane did not bring wealth or stunning connections, but she was a gentleman’s daughter, and Bingley found that quite adequate for his position in society. Loving her as he did, he would have married her anyway, but he believed his parents would be pleased with the match, even if his sisters were not.
In the carriage on the way to his solicitor’s office, he shook his head. Caroline had not taken the news of his engagement to Jane well. She took the news of Darcy’s engagement to Elizabeth even worse. When Miss Lucas’ betrothal was announced at the ball, Caroline’s mouth fell open. He found Charlotte Lucas very pleasant company, but women like his sister only saw that she was plain, nearly on the shelf, and had no fortune or style. Caroline had not kept her complaints to herself in the days between the ball and Darcy’s wedding.
“What can possibly recommend her to him?” she asked over breakfast while Darcy was out riding the morning after the ball.
“I daresay he loves her,” Louisa replied.
“Love? Nonsense! Why should a man of Mr. Darcy’s stature marry a woman as lowborn as Eliza Bennet for love?”
He and Louisa shared a look and simply shook their heads.
“He has a duty to his estate and blood line to marry someone of better standing. It was rumoured he would make a match with his cousin.”
Bingley rolled his eyes. “You have spent years saying that rumour was incorrect. You cannot change your opinion merely because he did not choose you.”
Caroline scoffed and rose to pour another cup of tea. “You ought to have done better than Jane, too,” she said. She furiously stirred the tea, and the spoon clanging on the side of her teacup grated his nerves nearly as much as her words.
“Jane is a gentleman’s daughter and will make a wonderful mistress to any estate I purchase. I have done fine by my duty.”
Mr. Hurst grumbled, “See to yours now, Caroline.”
She returned to her seat and pouted a moment. “There were far too many betrothals announced at the ball! Reverend Black’s scandalous sermon the other week must have instigated all of these. Good heavens! Can you imagine someone falling in love with Miss Lucas? She must have entrapped him, in a moment of weakness, and were found in a compromising position?”
“That is enough! I will not allow you to malign another person’s name at my table.” It had felt good to take a firm stand.
Caroline continued as though she did not hear. “It must be why Darcy proposed to Eliza as well. I am certain she used some kind of allurement on him when she stayed here. There was no need for her to arrive at all! She came solely to gain Mr. Darcy’s notice!”
Bingley stood and tossed his napkin on the table. “You have gone too far. You have attempted to smear Miss Lucas’ name and now Darcy and Miss Elizabeth’s. Who is next? Jane? Me?”
“Do be serious, Charles. You at least liked Jane the entire time we have been here. If only you would have returned to Town, we could have nipped this little infatuation in the bud, but you must see it is quite different from Darcy’s interest in Eliza.”
Bingley had turned red in anger. “It is clear you will not learn. I will not be beholden to your welfare any longer. You know I journey to London in part to change matters of your dowry as you are recently of age, and I am no longer your guardian. As such, you will have complete control of your shares of our Father’s company, and I encourage you to either marry this Season or make plans for your own establishment, for you will no longer be welcome in my home.”
He strode to the door while she called after him. She did not speak to him at all until just before he left for London. She had even refused to call on Longbourn to meet the Gardiners. She only planned to attend Darcy’s wedding because Lord Sidney arrived. Then she did not return after attending to Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh. Instead, she spent the entire day at Netherfield in their company along with Mr. Collins. As Bingley left for London shortly after Darcy and Elizabeth’s wedding breakfast, she pleaded her case.
“Charles, you cannot do this to me!”
“I can, and I will,” he promised.
“I will apologise for my words when next I see Darcy and Eli…” she amended her words as she saw Bingley’s face turn to stone, “Mr. and Mrs. Darcy.”
“You will also apologise to Miss Lucas and give genuine friendship to Jane.”
“Yes, of course!” she eagerly agreed.
“I want to hear a favourable report from her upon my return.”
“I promise, Charles,” she said and for a moment reminded her of when they were children. Disliking the softening of his demeanour, he only nodded and boarded the carriage.
Caroline did not know it, but their father’s will stated the stipulations of her inheritance when she reached the age of majority. She was always intended to live off her own income if she did not have a husband by the time she was one and twenty. Their father thought it would encourage independence and financial prudence. If Caroline had truly made an effort to befriend Jane, then he would provide her shelter, but all of her other items were to no longer come from the family’s legacy. She would not like the news.
Arriving at the solicitor’s office, Bingley found Darcy waiting within. He checked his watch. Traffic had moved slowly, and he was half an hour late. Blast and bother, even when he made every effort to arrive on time! Darcy did not seem to notice the delay, and Bingley grinned. He could certainly imagine what occupied Darcy’s mind instead.
*****
Jane was unsurprised to learn Mr. Collins had left for Netherfield before breakfast to see Lady Catherine off. He returned in just enough time to say a strictly formal farewell to the family. Amidst his thanks, he sounded as though he would return shortly. Jane could scarcely understand what would bring him back so soon, especially with Lady Catherine’s displeasure at Darcy and Elizabeth’s wedding.
She was surprised, however, when Caroline and Louisa called upon them Sunday after church. She attempted to greet them with an earnest smile, although she was beginning to suspect duplicity in their friendship. For the sake of Bingley, however, she determined to be as warm as ever.
“I did not expect to see either of you before the wedding!” she exclaimed.
Mrs. Bennet caught hold of the topic and carried on for such time. At last, there was a break in her speech, and Caroline seized it.
“Another!” screeched Mrs. Bennet. “Well, I am certain it cannot be another one of Lady Lucas’ daughters. They are too young.”
“Maria is the same age as Kitty, Mama,” Mary pointed out.
“Do not correct me, Child,” she replied testily.
“Actually, you are to wish me joy,” Caroline gushed. “We are to be cousins as well as sisters.”
“Cousins!” the Bennet women cried at once.
“Mr. Collins proposed yesterday on his visit to Netherfield, and I accepted.” She raised her chin in pride.
After an awkward silence, Jane offered, “My congratulations. It is a remarkable match.” Caroline had shown no true happiness at her announcement, and the entire thing was beyond her belief.
Mrs. Bennet, who had been pouring the newly arrived tea, emptied the pot in stupefied astonishment. Jane easily saw what she had realised.
“Miss Bingley and Mr. Collins? It is most preposterous!” Lydia began laughing.
Caroline coolly replied, “I do not see why you should think so.”
“He is ridiculous, and you are so…so…” Lydia searched for a word.
“Proud!” Kitty helped Lydia along.
“He has a good living now and as Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s rector. I have met with her a few times before and was pleased to see her and her daughter again yesterday.” Jane’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and Caroline began speaking faster. “I know she is a very kind and condescending lady. She holds other, greater, livings as well. It shall be no hardship to preside over the Hunsford parsonage and frequent Lady Catherine’s table until I am mistress of Longbourn.”
Mrs. Bennet dropped the pot entirely, then.
“Mama!” Mary cried out.
Handkerchiefs were quickly produced to attempt to clean the mess, but Mrs. Bennet’s nerves could not be contained.
Jane rushed to Caroline and Louisa’s sides. “Thank you again for calling. I fear all this excitement has wearied Mother. The exhaustion of planning two weddings has quite fatigued her. I wish you very happy.” She kissed Caroline’s cheek. “I know Charles will be pleased as well. Do excuse us. I am certain we shall spend quite a bit of time together next week.” Jane then turned to her mother and helped her upstairs.
Caroline and Louisa showed themselves to the door, and in a matter of minutes, Mrs. Hill arrived with compresses for Mrs. Bennet.
“Oh! It is a good thing Lizzy has married Mr. Darcy! Miss Bingley and Mr. Collins would turn us out of this house before Mr. Bennet would be cold in his grave, I am sure!” She lay back and appeared faint for a moment, then took a sniff of the smelling salts Kitty held out for her. “Oooh! It is vile! If only he would have asked Mary!”
“Be calm, Mama. Papa is healthy, and Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley will see to us, I am sure.” She patted her mother’s hand.
“I worry about you, Jane, dear. Gaining such a sister! Well, it is good she will be out of your house. And married to such a man! His patroness is a terrible, miserly woman with no style or beauty. Her daughter is quite insane.” Jane rolled her eyes as her mother changed her opinion on Mr. Collins so quickly. “I am certain she will never bear him a son.”
“Hush, Fanny,” Mrs. Gardiner said.
“It will be nothing like you and Lizzy. You two will have no hardships with your husbands’ attentions.”
“Fanny!” Mrs. Gardiner cried.
“Mama!” Jane and her sisters cried at once.
“What? Lizzy already knew how to secure Mr. Darcy, and do not think I am blind as to the real cause of this change in the wedding date, Jane. I do not speak an untruth. How do you suppose I begat five children?”
“Mother!” the girls cried again and quickly fled the room.
“Fanny, calm yourself!” Mrs. Gardiner said.
Jane and her sisters collapsed in her room, laughing at their mother, Caroline Bingley, and Mr. Collins.
“Jane, is it really true?” Lydia asked when they finally calmed.
Jane blushed. She always tried to be an example for her older sisters. “Lizzy admitted that she allowed Mr. Darcy some liberties while at Netherfield; that is all she has said to me. I think we know better than to trust Mama.”
“And you?” Mary asked, and Jane hated to hear the condemnation in her voice. She had thought they were becoming closer. Mary might never forgive her.
“It is only the difference of a few days,” she said weakly and stared at her hands.
Lydia jumped from the bed. “Jane, you wicked thing!”
Jane tugged Lydia back down. “No, listen to me. Do not be like me! We were engaged, and the licence was purchased, but it is no excuse.”
Mrs. Gardiner came in then. “No, it is not. Nor should your father have left you alone with him. An error he has promised to rectify with you three.”
Before she could scold further, a maid arrived with a note for Jane from Miss Bingley. “Read it!” Kitty encouraged.
The whole room watched as she read and then burst into laughter.
“What?” they exclaimed in unison. Jane passed the letter to Mary to read.
“Dearest Jane, please do not hate me forever. Charles would be so angry if he thought we were not friends. I assure you I had no idea Mr. Collins came yesterday to propose. I had assumed he desired to speak with Lady Catherine. She had already left, and as I was explaining it to him in the main hall, I was taken aback as he got on one knee. I refused, I did! But he would not take no for an answer. He rose and kissed me instead! You can imagine my mortification when I heard steps and turned to find Lord Sidney had just witnessed Mr. Collins’ display. He eagerly gave his congratulations, and now I am to marry!”
The ladies broke into laughter once more.
“You see, girls, this is why you ought not to be alone with men!” Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed, and they laughed again.
“Yes, but not for fear of seduction or compromise but from receiving such a proposal!” Mary cried.
“Indeed!” Mrs. Gardiner agreed, and it was many moments before they were calmed enough to return to the drawing room. Jane could only wonder what Bingley and Elizabeth would think of the news.
Chapter Fifteen
Darcy awoke to find his arm draped over Elizabeth’s side. She was cuddled close to him. Her dark eyelashes—the darkest he had ever seen—were striking against her pale, creamy skin. Her face was exquisite in repose. The neckline of her night shift had slipped low. It did not expose any more of her bosom than an evening gown would, but he could view her unrepentantly without the enduring scrutiny of being in the company of others. She had a visible mole on her right breast, which he had long admired; from his new vantage point, he discovered two fainter ones on her left one as well. He smiled; he was the only man in the world who would know of the existence of those other moles.
He repressed a sigh at her beauty. He became entranced with the rise and fall of her chest and resisted the urge to trace his finger along her neckline. That thought sent him evaluating where his hand clutched her trim waist. His eyes drifted over the length of her, settling where her hips gently flared wide—hips he wanted to grasp in the throes of passion, with their bodies entwined. He suddenly realised their lower legs were tangled; her night shift had ridden up in the night. Darcy wore breeches but not stockings. Her silky smooth calves were against his, and he became aware that he was in danger.
He did not know the time—it was barely light—but he needed to leave his wife’s bed if he was to resist his desires. He reminded himself that all he needed was patience and perseverance. She was legally and irrevocably his—he had the rest of his life to worship her, body and soul. He took a deep breath to cool his ardour lest he make his usual morning condition—which was making his breeches painfully tight—obvious to her warm, soft body, nestled much too close.
Very slowly, Darcy extracted himself from the bed. He penned a quick note and
left it on the pillow next to her. She rolled onto her back, and Darcy placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. As he left, he thought he heard a contented sigh.
*****
Elizabeth awoke alone and full of regret. She knew her wifely obligation to her husband, a duty she freely admitted to herself she was growing quite curious about. She was dismayed that she could not fulfil it. That he no longer was in her bed shamed her further. Did he think she was wanton, asking him to stay? Presumably, she should not desire his nearness; that was why the refined in society had separate bedrooms. Only in the vulgar and crass lower classes did husbands and wives share beds.
Before this particular morning, Elizabeth had put little stock in such a notion. She was well aware society might say one thing, such as dictating separate bedrooms, but what happened in private moments could be quite another thing. It was all a matter of discretion. She might privately read Tom Jones but would never mention it in a drawing room. If a husband and wife felt affection for each other, why must they separate? Who would ever know? Yet, if there truly was no problem with husbands and wives sharing a bed, why was her husband absent?
She had no idea what to do next. She had been too ill yesterday for a tour of the house. Should she prepare for her day and ask a servant to request her husband escort her to breakfast? Should she wait for his arrival? Should she descend the stairs on her own and hope to find the correct room? She laughed as she accurately recalled the location of the kitchen but not the dining parlour! At last, her eyes espied a note on the pillow next to hers, written in a masculine hand.
Loveliest Elizabeth,
You can have no idea how utterly enchanting you look as you sleep in what I hope will become our bed.
Waking with you in my arms was a delight I have never known but hope always to repeat.
I awoke early and chose to let you rest. I will be in my study attending to business, but please have a servant inform me when you are prepared for the day, and I will escort you to breakfast.
-Yours, W