Her Indomitable Resolve Read online

“Is there truly an occasion for that?” asked the gentleman in his expansive manner. “It is not proper to be alone with your betrothed, sir, for there is her reputation to consider.”

  “I shall walk with Mr. Bingley and Jane and provide chaperonage,” said Elizabeth before anyone else could comment.

  Though Mr. Collins looked at Elizabeth with some annoyance, his wife spoke up at once: “Thank you, Lizzy. That would be for the best.”

  While Elizabeth and Jane were preparing to go out, Elizabeth noted how Mr. Bingley stepped up to Mary and spoke with her, earnest and attentive, for several moments before they agreed and stepped apart. Then, seeing his fiancé was prepared to depart, he stepped forward and offered his arm, leading her out of the house and onto the nearby path.

  As they walked, Elizabeth watched as Jane and her beau meandered with no real destination in mind, deep in conversation, paying little attention to where they were. Elizabeth followed at a respectful distance, not wishing to insert her presence between them, intent on enjoying the walk, though they were not proceeding with as much pace as she preferred.

  Thinking back on how Mr. Bingley had spoken with Mary before they departed, Elizabeth considered what their subject might have been. Though it was possible he had been thanking her for keeping a level head and agreeing to host Jane’s fete, Elizabeth thought it more likely the gentleman had been offering financial assistance. If he was, Elizabeth could only applaud him, for he knew it was one of Mary’s principal concerns, given the position of the estate.

  It was none of her concern, however, so Elizabeth soon left off any thought of what had been decided and concentrated on enjoying the day. So intent was she on the surrounding scenery, she did not notice when Mr. Bingley and Jane stopped to wait for her. Jane regarded her, diverted at her distraction, while Mr. Bingley watched her with that irrepressible grin of his.

  “I do declare, Lizzy,” said Jane when Elizabeth joined them, “that you are possibly the worst chaperone, for you cannot tear your attention away from the trees around us to watch your charges!”

  Elizabeth laughed with her sister and demanded: “Must I watch you every moment? Had I known that was necessary, I might have ceded your chaperonage to Mr. Collins, for he would be most attentive!”

  The laughter her words provoked was forced, for though she would not think ill of anyone, Jane did not much respect her sister’s husband. Mr. Bingley, by contrast, shook his head, a hint of exasperation hovering about him.

  “Do not take such drastic action, Miss Elizabeth, for I would not wish to bother your cousin. Jane and I shall behave.”

  “Of course not,” replied Elizabeth, fixing the gentleman with a cheeky grin. “I should never dream of it.”

  “I must depart soon,” said Mr. Bingley, his manner becoming more serious, “but I should like to thank you for your care for Jane. You have been a tower of strength to her these past weeks.”

  “It is nothing, Mr. Bingley,” demurred Elizabeth. “Though we do not always agree at Longbourn, I cannot think the divisions which have beset us of late will be long-lasting.”

  It was an overstatement, and Elizabeth thought Mr. Bingley recognized it as such. Distance between the family had been all but guaranteed the moment Mary agreed to marry Mr. Collins, a man none of them respected, whom no one could like. Though Mrs. Bennet did not wish to leave Longbourn, which had been her home for many years, none of the sisters would remain if they could change their circumstances.

  “I thank you, nonetheless,” insisted Mr. Bingley. “Before I return to Netherfield, I wished to confirm our plans for the spring. It is still your plan to join us in London?”

  “As long as you will have me,” replied Elizabeth, fixing the gentleman with a smile, “it would please me to accept.”

  “There will never be a time that we will not welcome you,” replied Mr. Bingley, returning her smile in every particular.

  Mr. Bingley escorted them back to Longbourn before he took his leave, kissing Jane’s hand while Elizabeth stood aside and allowed them a little privacy. When Mr. Bingley departed, both girls returned to their rooms for a time to contemplate the day. With any luck, the arguments of the last days would come to an end after Mr. Bingley’s intervention.

  It was fortunate, reflected Charles Bingley as he rode down the drive toward the manor house a Netherfield, that he loved Jane Bennet as much as he did. That it was necessary to connect himself to the family to gain her favor was unfortunate, but there was nothing he would not do for her. This morning had been a trial, though it had all worked out.

  In all fairness, they were not all objectionable. Elizabeth was bright, vivacious, and charming, a genuine joy to know, and even Mary was an excellent woman, though moralizing and severe, not one for whom Bingley felt any affinity. And the Gardiners were all that was good also; Mr. Gardiner was a man who reminded Bingley of his late father.

  The objectionable members were, however, as objectionable as anyone Bingley had ever met. Mrs. Bennet, loud and improper, had not a lick of sense, and Collins was a man whom Bingley could not tolerate for any length of time and maintain any civility. The master of Longbourn was the primary reason Bingley had decided against the purchase of Netherfield, for he had no wish to stay near the simpering simpleton, and every wish to put as much distance between them as possible.

  As he dismounted his horse and put it in the care of a groom, Bingley shook his head, feeling more sardonic amusement than usual, fancying his thoughts were akin to those Darcy might feel when confronted with such a ridiculous specimen as William Collins. Then again, given the man’s ubiquitous words concerning Lady Catherine de Bourgh, a woman of whom Bingley had heard much, Bingley knew he was already acquainted with Collins from the time the man had been his aunt’s parson. Fitzwilliam, in particular, had made some choice observations about Collins, comments which Bingley had thought were exaggerations at the time. How wrong he had been.

  In all honesty, however, Bingley had never intended to settle at Netherfield. The estate was convenient due to its proximity to town and the size was perfect, allowing Bingley to learn to manage an estate in circumstances which would not prove too challenging for his untried abilities. At the same time, Bingley did not know if he wished to settle so near London, and there were issues with the estate which would require an outlay of capital to correct. It would be better to find an estate in better condition. Darcy could help in that, Bingley thought.

  Despite all these thoughts rolling through his head, Bingley had never considered ending his attentions to Jane, even when he had been at liberty to do so. Captivated the moment he had laid eyes on her, Bingley had determined soon after he would have her for a wife and would not consider any other outcome. Jane’s worth was such that enduring her family was an insignificant matter, regardless of what anyone else said in opposition.

  As if the mere thought of her could conjure her before his eyes, the chief of those who derided his choice appeared. Caroline, proud and haughty, eager to ascend society’s ladder as she was, had never taken to Meryton and decried the Bennets as unsuitable from the moment of their first acquaintance. Not that Bingley ever listened to her—they were very different, so much so that Bingley had stopped listening to her long ago, though in her opinion she ruled over the family as she saw fit. His proposal of marriage to Jane in defiance of her strident protests had shaken her confidence. Had it also stilled her tongue, Bingley would have been much pleased.

  “I see you have returned,” said Caroline, resplendent in her ostentatious dress and plumes of ridiculous feathers. “Since the scent of smoke does not cling to you and there is no soot staining your clothing, can I assume Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Collins have yet to burn Longbourn down around them in their incessant arguing?”

  Not for the first time, Bingley wished Mrs. Bennet was more circumspect. The woman had no ability for tact and was as apt to complain in front of the neighborhood as she was in the privacy of her own home. This fact had been evinced on more than one occa
sion in Caroline’s presence, which led to her sniping about it at every opportunity.

  “There is nothing left to dispute, Caroline, for we have made the final arrangements.”

  Caroline sniffed with disdain. “I hope that is true, though I have no confidence in it. Even so, I hope none of our friends in London accept invitations to the breakfast, for I would not witness their derision upon seeing the arrangements Longbourn will boast.”

  “In that, I must contradict you, Caroline,” said Bingley, injecting a warning tone in his voice. “Everything will be lovely I am certain.”

  As usual, his warning was less than efficacious, for Caroline huffed, her anger making her ugly. “This could all have been avoided, Charles. Had you listened to me and refrained from offering for Miss Bennet, we could have returned to London where you could have found a more appropriate wife.”

  “As I have informed you before,” replied Bingley, maintaining his temper, “there is no more appropriate woman, for to me Miss Bennet is perfect.”

  Caroline glared at him. “You have thrown everything for which our father worked and struggled into the gutter with this mad pursuit of Miss Bennet!”

  Unimpressed with his sister’s show of coldness, Bingley rejoined: “I have done nothing of the sort. Unlike you, father did not covet high society, and he had no pretensions toward joining it. Father wished us to become a landed family and to begin the process of becoming accepted. I will accomplish this when I purchase an estate.”

  “A provincial estate in a backwater town,” snapped Caroline. “Father had much more than this in mind. Why do you allow your friendship with Mr. Darcy to go to waste?”

  “Darcy and I remain as close as we ever were.” There was no point in informing Caroline he had no interest in purchasing Netherfield; she would learn of his plans soon enough.

  Caroline growled under her breath. “Then why is he not here?”

  “You know as much of those circumstances as I,” replied Bingley. “I do not direct Darcy, and I do not pry into his business.”

  “It will be a miracle if he does not throw you aside now with this alliance you have made.”

  “If he does, then so be it. I, however, have more faith in my friend and know he will not find my wife to be anything other than lovely.

  “It would be best if you would leave the subject alone now, Caroline,” said Bingley, interrupting whatever other charges she was about to level at him. “There is little I can do at this late date, even if I regretted my actions and wished to be free of Miss Bennet, which I do not. You should remember that I am soon to be married and my wife will preside over my home. Continuing to harp on this subject will make you unwelcome.”

  “I fear nothing your mousy little wife can do,” sneered Caroline. “Jane Bennet would not believe me anything other than her best friend, even if I were to spit on her face!”

  “Yes, Jane tends to look on others with favor; it is part of her charm. Do not consider her witless, however, for she is not, though she is kind to a fault. If you mistreat her, remember that I will remove you and send you to the Hursts. Or perhaps you would prefer to strike out on your own, supported by your dowry.”

  Eyes narrowed, Caroline glared on him with fury. “You would not dare.”

  “Continue to speak in this manner, Caroline,” said Bingley. “Then you will see exactly what I will dare.”

  With one final significant look, Bingley stepped around his sister and climbed the stairs toward his room, eager to be out of her company. While his sister had not been shy about expressing her displeasure, she had never leveled such open criticisms at Jane, never accused him of such betrayal of their father. If she persisted, she would discover how resolved he could be.

  In the end, Bingley knew his sister would be better off with the Hursts, as he doubted she could live in his home with Jane and not attempt to wrest control from her. Her pretensions with respect to Darcy would all come to naught; Bingley knew that even if Caroline would not confess it. Perhaps Darcy would assist him in finding an estate in Derbyshire near Pemberley. It would put him three days’ journey from Hertfordshire and the Collinses, and once Darcy married, he thought Caroline would have no interest in visiting.

  It was just as well he had no intention of speaking to her regarding the arrangements for the wedding and, in particular, the wedding breakfast. If Caroline knew he intended to assume a portion of the cost for the event, there would be no silencing her. It was fortunate that Mrs. Collins was not in the habit of proclaiming such matters for all the neighborhood to hear. If it had been Mrs. Bennet, Bingley did not think it would have remained unknown for two minutes.

  Chapter III

  The days and weeks leading to Jane’s wedding were bittersweet for Elizabeth. While she tried to put aside those thoughts which plagued her, the knowledge that Jane would soon leave, stranding Elizabeth in a house in which she little wished to reside, there were times when those thoughts overwhelmed her desire to suppress them. It was a joyous occasion; Elizabeth did not wish to ruin it with maudlin thoughts.

  Preparations for the wedding breakfast proceeded apace, details were decided upon, arrangements made. It could not be said the arguments between Mary and Mrs. Bennet were a thing of the past; Mr. Bingley’s intervention, however, had served its purpose. Mary no longer opposed every costly item Mrs. Bennet wished to include, though she continued to be a voice of reason, a pragmatic force keeping Mrs. Bennet’s more lavish style in check. And while Mrs. Bennet continued to give wing to her flights of fancy, the more luxurious arrangements she had wished to include were now forgotten. Elizabeth was certain the result would satisfy them both.

  Of more importance to Elizabeth was that Jane seemed satisfied. Then again, Elizabeth knew her dearest sister, knew that she would not protest even if there was no wedding breakfast.

  “I am content, Lizzy,” said Jane on one occasion when Elizabeth broached the subject.

  “If you are, then I will desist. It is only that Mama and Mary seem to be planning your wedding breakfast with little thought given to your own preferences.”

  “Who says they are not my preferences?” asked Jane, fixing Elizabeth with a diverted grin. “On those occasions they have suggested something I do not prefer, I have spoken. Otherwise, I have little complaint with what they have decided.”

  “Only you, Jane,” said Elizabeth, bussing her sister’s cheek. “I shall refrain from speaking of it again.”

  The autumn progressed, the last leaves clinging to the branches of trees in defiance of wind and rain soon fell, and winter was upon them. Christmastide came and went, the Collinses and remaining Bennets celebrating the season with the Bingley family, which now included the Hursts, who had arrived not long before. Miss Bingley, Elizabeth noted, was civil, but never exerted herself beyond those simple manners, her disapproval for her brother’s alliance obvious for anyone with the wit to see. Mrs. Hurst’s feelings, at least, were less overt than her sister’s, speaking with Jane and Elizabeth kindly, though it was true she avoided Mr. Collins and Mrs. Bennet wherever possible. Of Mr. Hurst there was little to say, for the gentleman had no interest in anything other than his wine and his food; as there was much of both, he was content.

  In years past, the family at Longbourn had been joined every year by the Gardiners and their children. This year, however, they did not make the journey, citing Jane’s upcoming nuptials as the reason for their absence. Elizabeth, however, knew better. Though at Mary’s insistence, she had offered the invitation the Christmas after Mr. Bennet’s passing, Mr. Collins had not been happy to be hosting his wife’s family and had made no secret of how unwelcome he considered them. Thus, the Gardiners, with Kitty, celebrated their Christmas in London.

  In time, the New Year passed, and January was upon them. By now the weather was cold enough to force Elizabeth inside and eschew her walks. It was fortunate there was much to do before the wedding, or she might have gone distracted at the loss of her respite. But work she did, at th
e behest of her mother and eldest sister, and by this means, Elizabeth diverted her thoughts from her unwanted proximity to Mr. Collins and the upcoming separation from her dearest sister.

  A week before the wedding, Elizabeth chanced to speak with Jane about that very subject. Though Elizabeth provoked most discussions of this nature, on this occasion Jane, eager to assure herself of her sister’s wellbeing, initiated it.

  “My wedding is now only a week away, Lizzy,” said Jane. From her tone, Elizabeth knew she was not speaking with longing or wistful thoughts of the coming separation. Elizabeth, however, chose to take it in such a way.

  “And you will have your gentleman at last,” said she, a hint of a tease in her tone. “The anticipation must be nigh unendurable.”

  A ghost of a smile flitted across Jane’s face. “It has been a long engagement, Lizzy. Yes, I confess I am eager to have all this completed, so I may start my new life with my husband.”

  “That is understandable, Jane. Were I in your position, I would feel the same.”

  Jane regarded Elizabeth for a long moment before saying: “It will distress me to be parted from you, Lizzy.”

  “As we have confided in each other many times before,” replied Elizabeth with a laugh.

  “We would not need to be parted if you would accompany us on our wedding tour.”

  This was one subject that had provoked contention between the sisters in recent days. “I know younger sisters often accompany their married siblings on their wedding tours, Jane. In this instance, however, I would prefer to allow you and Mr. Bingley your privacy.”

  “There is ample opportunity for privacy should we desire it,” replied Jane. Elizabeth could hear a slight scolding in her tone. “There is still time, Lizzy. Shall you not depart with us next week?”

  There were few things Elizabeth wished more than to leave Longbourn. The discomfort in which she would soon live was yet a source of much consternation and the prospect of parting with Jane, no more palatable now than it had been when Mr. Bingley first proposed to her sister. The reasons for not wishing to go, however, were still valid, and Elizabeth did not mean to be argued from her position.