Page 35 of The Heroic Mr Darcy's Bad Manners
“Tomorrow is as good a day as any. We need wall-papers, fabric, linens, and quite possibly some furniture. We should inspect the rooms and make a list before we go to the shops, which means we should make a good beginning today. It is fortunate indeed that you are here because you are more familiar with your parents’ and sisters’ tastes than I.”
“I do not believe you need to worry about my father’s accommodations. You know he hates town, and it is unlikely he will spend much of his time here.”
A shadow passed across her grandmother’s face, and Uncle Henry lowered his newspaper.
“In this he no longer has a choice,” Uncle Henry grumbled. “He is the Earl of Glentworth and must assume his duties when the Season begins.”
Elizabeth was glad it was not she who must take that unwelcome news to her father.
The butler came with a calling card on a silver salver and offered it to her grandmother.
“We must delay the inspection of the rooms, dear Elizabeth. Lady Melbourne has asked me to call as she has an acquaintance she wants to introduce me to.”
#
Sunday morning.
Elizabeth was reading a letter in quietude when her grandmother entered the parlour and looked about the room to ascertain they were alone. She was surprised the older lady was up so early the night after Lady Middleton’s ball. She herself had gone to bed before midnight after a pleasant visit to the Gardiners’.
“Dear Eilís, have you received any news from Jane?”
“No, not today at least. This letter is from Charlotte,” Elizabeth replied.
“I am at a loss as to what to do…” Maeve Bennet sighed and sat down heavily on an old-fashioned settee. She looked tired, her features drawn and eyes shadowed.
“May I be of assistance?” Elizabeth offered.
“Yes, perhaps I should inform you. You know him better than I and may have a better understanding of his conduct.” Her grandmother turned towards her and grabbed her hands, which worried Elizabeth.
“A certain Mr Bingley attended Lady Middleton’s ball last evening, though no opportunity arose for an introduction.”
Elizabeth could only nod whilst worrying whether Mr Darcy had accompanied his friend. The letter from Charlotte had informed her that the aforementioned gentleman had returned to town the very same day she had left for London, and that was four days ago. No, that seemed unlikely. Perhaps Charlotte was mistaken, because if he had returned, he surely would have accompanied Mr Bingley to Lady Middleton’s ball—a titbit her grandmother would have been eager to relate if it had been so…
“I understand that Mr Bingley singled out Jane to such an extent that expectations of a forthcoming proposal were raised.”
“Yes. Sir William mentioned as much to me at the Netherfield ball.”
“Sir William?” Grandmother Bennet huffed in disbelief. “I do not believe a word that comes out of that flibbertigibbet’s mouth. Oh no, it is your opinion I seek. But keep in mind that young gentlemen today are prone to fall in love with a pretty girl for a few weeks, then forget all about them as soon as they encounter another charming young lady.”
“I assure you”—Elizabeth lowered her voice in exasperation—“that is not the case with Mr Bingley, who is most violently in love with Jane.”
“Violently in love!” Her grandmother huffed. “The expression is so hackneyed and indefinite, it gives me little idea of what has transpired. It is as often applied to a flighty half-hour acquaintance as it is to a strong, long-lasting connection. Pray, tell me, how violently in love is Mr Bingley?”
Her grandmother was a shrewd and discerning lady, but in this instance, Elizabeth believed she was wrong.
“I have never seen a more promising inclination,” Elizabeth assured her. “He grew quite inattentive to other people because he was wholly engrossed in Jane. Every time they met it became more obvious and marked. At his own ball he offended two young ladies by not requesting a set because he danced thrice with Jane. I myself spoke to him on two separate occasions without receiving any answers. Could there be any finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very essence of love?”
“Oh yes! Of the kind of love I suspect he has felt. Mr Bingley was supposed to return to Meryton the very next day and had accepted an invitation to dine at Longbourn yesterday. But he is still in town and highly engaged in making love to his newest conquest. Last evening he smiled and danced twice with Miss Helena Bergman. Mind you, she is not to be trifled with. Her Swedish father must be of Viking blood because he is as tall and broad-shouldered as he is fair and bad tempered. Mr Bergman has fathered four sons who resemble him in every way. Mr Bingley will not be left unscathed should he trifle with their only daughter and sister. Poor Jane! With her disposition, I am concerned she will not soon recover. It would have been better if it was you, dearleanbh[6].You would have laughed yourself out of it much sooner.”
Her grandmother rose to pace the floor. Elizabeth could not believe Mr Bingley had forgotten about Jane so soon—and that he had failed to keep his dinner engagement at Longbourn. There must be a plausible explanation as to why he had shown Miss Bergman marked attention. Two dances were not a declaration…
“Do you believe Jane could be prevailed upon to come to Limerick House?” her grandmother asked. “A change of scenery would do her good, and we could entertain her so well that she forgets that there ever was a Mr Bingley.”
“I cannot believe it. Mr Bingley must have a good reason for behaving thus. Perhaps Miss Bergman is his cousin, and he was aiding her to gain notice amongst the other gentlemen?” Elizabeth argued, but her grandmother simply raised an eyebrow in reply.
“Perhaps he is not the man I thought he was,” Elizabeth allowed reluctantly. She doubted very much that she had been so mistaken, but her confidence had shattered when the most agreeable gentleman proved to hardly warrant the name. “He certainly surrounds himself with questionable friends. They must be more alike than I initially thought…”
“Some of these young men gad about and make love to everyone they meet, but there is no substance to their amorous trifling,” Mrs Bennet huffed.
