Mrs. Bennet's Favorite Daughter Read online

  “Your mother’s relations must bring you great pleasure,” added a simpering Miss Bingley. “How fortunate you are to be related to an earl!”

  “I have never thought of it,” replied Georgiana, her shrug showing her uncle’s position was of little consequence to her. “My uncle is everything good, and we are very close to his family. If I was not reminded of it, I declare I would not remember his position in society!”

  An awkward silence fell over the table, much to Elizabeth’s satisfaction; Miss Bingley should know better than to speak with such fawning attention. Taking pity on them, Elizabeth directed the conversation back to Miss Bingley’s original question.

  “The Bennet family, Miss Bingley, is not large either.” Miss Bingley perked up at Elizabeth’s statement. “My father has a sister, who lives in Devonshire with her husband, and we do not see her often because of the distance. On my mother’s side, she has a brother and a sister, both of whom live nearby.”

  “Oh?” asked Miss Bingley with exaggerated nonchalance. “Their estates are also situated near Meryton?”

  With a smile, hilarity welling up in her breast, Elizabeth replied: “Yes, my uncle’s estate is near to Meryton. As for my aunt, she lives in Meryton itself, for her husband is the solicitor there.”

  “A respectable profession,” said Mrs. Hurst.

  “Of course,” said Miss Bingley. Her reply was nearly a sneer. “What is the name of your uncle’s estate? If he lives close by, I am surprised we have not yet made his acquaintance.”

  “Oh, our uncle does not reside at his estate at present, Miss Bingley,” said Jane. “Uncle lives in London at present, for he is engaged in business there.”

  The smile with which Miss Bingley regarded them was now both triumphant and cruel, and her manner became ever haughtier. “Your uncle is in business, is he?”

  “Yes,” continued Jane, blind to Miss Bingley’s growing self-satisfaction. “Uncle is an importer and owns a large warehouse in Gracechurch Street, near Cheapside. At present, he lives near to his warehouses, for he finds it convenient to live nearby.”

  “I can see how that would be desirable,” said Miss Bingley, fixing Jane with a look which reminded Elizabeth of that a cat might have when stalking a mouse. “Then you do not see him much, I suppose, for he must be a busy man, though I suppose those of this community would welcome him with open arms.”

  It seemed Miss Bingley’s last statement confused Jane, who had detected her supercilious tone. Elizabeth, however, understood the woman perfectly and interjected herself into the conversation, eager to prick her insufferable bubble of self-conceit.

  “Actually, we see our aunt and uncle often, Miss Bingley, for they visit us in the summer and at Christmas. However, we shall soon see them with more frequency, for my uncle is to move into the neighborhood next year.”

  “Oh?” asked Miss Bingley, her enjoyment fading a little. “Does your uncle mean to purchase an estate? Or perhaps he will move his business to Meryton?” Miss Bingley snorted. “I suppose those living in the town would appreciate the arrival of a new family, and, more particularly, a new shop.”

  “You are mistaken, Miss Bingley,” said Elizabeth, enjoying the exchange, “for my uncle need not purchase an estate; he already owns one, as I have already said.”

  This caught Miss Bingley by surprise. “Then he has chosen to live in London while he owns an estate? That is singular.”

  “No, Miss Bingley, again I must contradict you. My uncle, you see, is descended, though several generations removed, from a line of gentlemen. His father was the solicitor in Meryton, but Uncle Gardiner had no interest in the law and instead made his fortune in business. Aunt Gardiner is the granddaughter of a gentleman, and her father was a parson.”

  Elizabeth turned to Georgiana and smiled. “She is also from Derbyshire and has much praise to give to your home.” Then Elizabeth turned back to Miss Bingley. “Uncle made his fortune and purchased an estate last spring, but as he is not giving up his interest in his business, he decided to take a year to prepare to transition it to a manager who will continue its operation in his stead. In the meantime, he leased the estate for a year until he can take personal control of it.”

  To Elizabeth’s eyes, it appeared Miss Bingley had caught her inference, for she blanched. Elizabeth regarded her for a moment with satisfaction before speaking again.

  “We appreciate your brother’s interest in Netherfield, Miss Bingley, for my uncle wished to ensure it would be managed by an honorable man, one who would see to its prosperity in his stead. Netherfield has stood empty for some years now, forcing my uncle to spend much of the spring in residence trying to correct some of the issues which had resulted from the master’s lengthy absence. My father has offered his assistance, but having someone in residence is a boon.

  “I suppose, in some respects,” said Elizabeth, twisting the knife even further, “your brother’s situation is much like my uncle’s. I assume your brother will follow Mr. Gardiner’s example and purchase his own estate when the lease expires. I wish him the best of luck, for Mr. Bingley is an excellent gentleman.”

  “Thank you, Miss Elizabeth,” said Miss Bingley. “We have always been proud of Charles.”

  So satisfied was Miss Bingley that she did not raise the subject again. They finished their dinner with amicable comments of a blander nature, and if Miss Bingley did not contribute as much, Elizabeth did not repine her reticence. Neither, it seemed, did Georgiana.

  “I am quite put out with you, Elizabeth,” said Georgiana when they had retired to the sitting-room, where Miss Bingley turned her attention on Jane. “When you informed us of your uncle’s ownership of this estate, I almost burst out in laughter!”

  “It was all I could do to keep my own countenance,” replied Elizabeth. A glance confirmed Miss Bingley was oblivious to what they were saying. “It was clear from the moment she began to speak that she wished to discover something she could use to persuade her brother away from Jane.”

  “Then it was a spectacular failure,” replied Georgiana. “She has always had a high opinion of herself. It may be she will be more bearable now that you have pierced her conceit with such precision.”

  Elizabeth doubted this was true, for she suspected Miss Bingley’s opinion of herself was sufficient to withstand the beating Elizabeth had given it. But she did not say this to her friend, instead turning the conversation to other matters, which included them all after a time. It would not do to anger Miss Bingley and alert her to the subject of their discourse. Though Elizabeth suspected the woman would not return the favor if the situation were reversed, she, at least, would not behave in such a manner. Her mother had taught her children to behave better than that.

  The dinner with Bingley and Hurst was proceeding as Fitzwilliam might have expected, for Bingley had little to say which did not consist of his admiration for the eldest Bennet daughter. He was an agreeable man, though perhaps a little fixated on certain matters. Then again, had Fitzwilliam the admiration of a woman of the quality of Miss Bennet of which to boast, he might well trumpet it from the rooftops too.

  “What do you think of Miss Bennet, Fitzwilliam?’ asked Bingley after a time of this. “Do you not think her the most beautiful creature you have ever beheld?”

  “Oh, aye,” said Fitzwilliam, stifling a laugh at the sight of Hurst’s rolled eyes. “She is in possession of an uncommon beauty, to be certain.”

  “And a dear, excellent creature too,” said Bingley with a sigh. “I cannot thank the heavens enough, for never had I expected to find such an excellent woman in such a place as Meryton.”

  “Come now, Bingley,” said Fitzwilliam with a hearty laugh. “Do you speak censure of this fine neighborhood?”

  “No, not at all,” replied Bingley, his attention focusing again on his surroundings, where he had been contemplating his lady’s perfections only a moment before. “Meryton is all that is pleasing. I simply did not expect to find a woman I could see making my wife
.”

  Hurst snorted at his brother’s declaration. “I dare say you have said that about no fewer than a dozen other young ladies.”

  “I have never announced my intention to make any of them my wife,” replied an injured Bingley.

  “Perhaps you have not gone so far,” replied Hurst. “But what of Miss Cartwright? Miss Colford? Miss Herbert?”

  By this time Bingley was blushing to the roots of his hair, much to Fitzwilliam’s amusement. Hurst, it seemed, was not so interested in the conversation as he had suggested, for he turned back to his plate at once. After a moment, Bingley collected himself and glared at his brother.

  “Maybe I have spoken out of turn in the past. But Miss Bennet is different.”

  “As you please,” said Hurst. “Only take care, for you know it will anger your sister to hear you speak so of a country miss with no fortune or connections.”

  Bingley grimaced and shook his head, turning to Fitzwilliam. “As you have likely guessed from Hurst’s inelegant statement, Caroline does not think well of Miss Bennet.”

  “She was friendly enough,” replied Fitzwilliam.

  “Oh, Caroline deigns to associate with her in Meryton, for there is no one else she considers worthy. But if we were to meet in London, Caroline would hold Miss Bennet at arms’ length.”

  “That is the truth!” guffawed Hurst. “Your sister has a high opinion of herself—there is no mistaking that!”

  “It is all so vexing!” exclaimed Bingley. “I cannot understand what Caroline is thinking. That Miss Bennet is the daughter of a country gentleman I well understand, but she is the daughter of a gentleman. Does that not make her acceptable in society’s eyes?”

  “Is she acceptable in your eyes?”

  “Without a doubt,” replied Bingley without a hint of hesitation. “I would consider myself fortunate should I obtain her affections.”

  “Then it seems to me,” said Fitzwilliam, “that yours is the only opinion that matters. Society would agree with you, Bingley, for birth trumps fortune. Some will think you mad for marrying a girl with no attention to her fortune, but you will have the comfort of an affectionate wife. Should I advise you, I would urge you to care little for the opinion of society and act in a manner that will constitute your own happiness.”

  “I am interested to hear you say that,” said Bingley, fixing Fitzwilliam with a look that was faintly amused. “Only last night Caroline informed me with no hint of doubt that you would advise me against Miss Bennet.”

  Fitzwilliam snorted, diverted himself. “Though it pains me to say it, Bingley, your sister does not know of what she speaks. Not only would I never presume to question your judgment in such matters, but I am also aware of the benefits of affection in marriage.”

  “Can I also assume that Darcy would agree with you? Caroline was most emphatic in her assertion that Darcy will warn me away from Miss Bennet as soon as he comes.”

  “What do you think, Bingley?” asked Fitzwilliam. “Does such officious behavior sound like my cousin?”

  “Well . . .” said Bingley slowly, “he has advised me against certain ladies in the past.”

  “If you will recall,” interjected Hurst, “Darcy informed you of a rumor he had heard of Miss Colford. Her family lives near his aunt, so he would have some knowledge of them. If Darcy had not stepped in, you might not have heard of the family’s financial difficulties until it was too late.”

  “That is true,” said Bingley, his eyes coming into focus. “And regarding Miss Townsend, he only informed me she did not seem too enamored of me.”

  “And he was correct,” said Hurst with a laugh, “given her engagement only a month after you stopped calling on her.”

  Bingley nodded, warming to the subject. “As I recall, Darcy had little to say any other time I asked him about a young lady. In fact, I remember him telling me once to consider her carefully, but that I should allow nothing to stand in my way should I be convinced of my love—and hers.”

  “It seems you have your answer, Bingley,” said Fitzwilliam. “If Darcy thought a woman held you in no affection, I believe he might intervene, but only to make his opinion known. Should you decide in favor of Miss Bennet—or any other woman—I doubt Darcy would do anything other than congratulate you.”

  Bingley nodded, his countenance suffused with pleasure once again. “Yes, I can see you are correct. Perhaps I shall ask Darcy’s opinion, but I shall hold to my right to decide my future.”

  “Excellent, Bingley! Then I suspect you will be a happy man. Should your sister not appreciate your choice, it is yours. She can have nothing to say.”

  “Thank you for that, Fitzwilliam, Hurst,” said Bingley, nodding to each in turn. “I believe you have given me the best advice I have ever received.”

  The conversation turned to other matters then, though Bingley was still inclined to bring Miss Bennet into it whenever the woman crossed his mind. That she did so every few minutes was amusing. Fitzwilliam thought the lady’s calm demeanor and kindness would do well for his friend.

  Chapter IV

  Elizabeth’s account of her handling of Miss Bingley brought much amusement to her family. Mrs. Bennet, in particular, took offense to Miss Bingley’s probing questions.

  “Well, it is good you diverted the lady so neatly, Lizzy,” said she with a sniff when the matter was made known to her. “If it had been me in your place, Miss Bingley should not have escaped without a stinging set down.”

  The Bennets were a tight-knit family, the bonds of affection strong between them. Though they had rarely had occasion to defend their position, the neighborhood in which they lived being dotted with families of similar circumstances, the fact remained that Mrs. Bennet had not been born to a gentle family. Few remembered that fact, but when others raised it, the family united in defending their position and rebuffing whatever criticism came their way.

  “There is little need to concern yourself with what a woman such as Miss Bingley has to say,” said Mr. Bennet. “For her to look down on any of us is absurd, considering her father was a tradesman and her brother does not yet own his estate.”

  “That does not make her any less acceptable in my eyes,” said Jane.

  “No, Jane, nor would I suggest it should,” replied Mr. Bennet. “We were speaking of Miss Bingley, not our family. With your uncle engaged in his own business—and making a highly successful go of it, I might add—we Bennets cannot cast stones at anyone of similar circumstances. I only suggest that Miss Bingley should refrain from thinking herself above us when my family can claim a line of gentlemen which extends more than two centuries.”

  To that, Jane nodded and turned her attention back to her meal. Jane had not misunderstood Miss Bingley’s comments the previous day, for they had spoken of the matter on their return journey to Longbourn. Elizabeth did not wish her sister to think poorly of Miss Bingley if she did not so wish, but she did hope that Jane would be wary of her. Though Jane had said nothing, Elizabeth believed her sister would watch Miss Bingley, though it was not in her sister’s character to behave with any unkindness toward her.

  “There is another matter which will be of some interest to all my family,” said her father, returning their attention to him. “For we are to have a visitor, it seems, and soon.”

  “A visitor?” asked Lydia. “Other than Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, we never host anyone at Longbourn.”

  “That is true,” replied Mr. Bennet, grinning at his youngest. “We would all welcome more frequent visits from my sister, but as the distance is great, that is not possible. No, the person of whom I speak is a man unknown to me, yet he possesses a close connection to us all.”

  This cryptic statement prompted a reaction, just as Elizabeth was certain her father had wished. The gentleman watched them all with some amusement for a few moments, laughing at some of the more outrageous guesses offered by his youngest daughters. Then when the tumult died down a little, he assuaged their curiosity.

  “Though you
have made some interesting deductions, none are correct.” Mr. Bennet glanced at Lydia and with laughing eyes said: “Lydia, do you believe I am not known to Colonel Fitzwilliam? And why should he stay with us when he is situated with his officers, in very comfortable accommodations, I might add?”

  “Then who is it, Papa?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Our visitor is to be none other than Mr. Collins, my heir and the future master of this estate.”

  If there was any subject likely to provoke a response from Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Collins was that subject. Though Elizabeth could not remember it, her father had told her of the nerves his wife had displayed early in their marriage. And had Mr. Bennet not done anything to help her overcome her fears, Mrs. Bennet would have been right to fear for her future, for genteel poverty was not a matter at which one should laugh.

  The Bennets’ circumstances, however, were not so dire as this. All five girls had dowries, though it was true they were not on the scale of those possessed by Georgiana, or even Miss Bingley. Lydia and Kitty’s dowries were still smaller than the rest, but with Mr. Gardiner’s help, Mr. Bennet was adding to them, and with the interest return from some investments their uncle had suggested, they all had fortunes large enough to support themselves should the worst come to pass.

  “I cannot say that I am eager to host Mr. Collins,” said Mrs. Bennet, nodding to Mr. Bennet’s news. “But he is your heir, and thus it is prudent we give him our attention. Do you know what kind of man he is? I should not like to accept a ruffian into my home.”

  “No, I do not think he is a ruffian,” replied Mr. Bennet. “Mr. Collins’s father was one of the most disagreeable men I have ever known, but even he was not a lout. This Mr. Collins seems like him in some ways, but different in others. I cannot say I expect his society to be agreeable, but he should not tax us too much.

  “In fact, he is a parson and holds a respectable living in Kent. Given his choice of words in his letter, I suspect he is not the most intelligent of men, and his continuous words and praise of his patroness, one Lady Catherine de Bourgh, is almost laughable. But other than perhaps a propensity to induce us to laughter, I hope he will not be objectionable.”