The Art of Apology (Happiness in Marriage)

Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

“ T hank God we are away from those people and shall not have to see any of them again today!” Miss Bingley exclaimed as she entered the drawing room at Netherfield. She sat on one of the silk-covered sofas, Mrs Hurst taking a place beside her and nodding in agreement.

“Why did you make us go to that church?” Mrs Hurst asked. “Surely there was no need to go at all, or we might have found a more…acceptable one in a nearby town. What is the largest town hereabouts?”

“As I have told you,” Bingley said, “we are in the country, and it is expected that we attend on Sundays. Besides, it is an excellent way to become part of the community. I met ever so many people in the short time we spent in the churchyard. I liked being there, and I shall be glad to go again.”

Darcy just caught sight of Miss Bingley’s eyes flickering upwards as he passed by her to go to the window. Hurst was sitting in a chair by the fire, a newspaper hiding his face, and Bingley had taken a place across from his sisters. Darcy found the conversation pointless, and it would surely only lead to the Bingleys and Mrs Hurst squabbling. They had already done so several times in his hearing, all because the ladies did not like the county in which their brother had taken a house.

If anyone should feel fatigued, it is me . Darcy’s tendency to be unsociable had worsened since Ramsgate. He knew it, yet there was nothing he could do about it—nor did he want to, truth be told. He had every right to be in a foul mood, given the way his once-friend George Wickham had attempted to ruin his and his sister’s happiness forever. Georgiana remained much affected, and Darcy prayed she would improve under the care of their aunt Lady Romsley and her new companion, Mrs Annesley.

I shall return to my former self in time. There is no need to force myself to more cheerfulness than I feel. Anyone who is a true friend will not care. When they were lately in town, Bingley had enquired whether he and his family were well, afterwards expanding this to include other matters that might be concerning Darcy. His questions were posed in a manner that suggested he recognised something more than his usual responsibilities was weighing on him. Naturally, Darcy had denied all suggestion that there was anything amiss.

“Darcy,” Bingley called, “do you not agree that the parson was excellent and the church is charming?”

He turned from the window where he had been mindlessly watching the wind rustle through the trees and shrubs, and said, “It is a perfectly acceptable country church. I have been in worse.”

“That is not a ringing endorsement, sir,” Miss Bingley said, then chuckled. “I believe you agree with Louisa and me that the entire neighbourhood is…I hate to say terrible, but there is nothing to like about it. You are simply too kind to admit it, knowing how it would disappoint my brother.”

Darcy acknowledged her with a quick nod but remained silent. In actuality, his views on the neighbourhood did not entirely align with hers. True, the people he had met were not the sort he preferred to spend time with, but—just as with the church—he knew there were other places that would be more trying to live in, even temporarily.

Presently, it was important to Bingley to be in Hertfordshire. Whether he remained here for months or for years, Darcy would not speculate, but his friend wanted to familiarise himself with the county because his mother had passed her childhood in it, only leaving upon her marriage. Mrs Bingley had died when Bingley was still a young child, and he had few memories of her. Darcy knew what it was like to want a connexion to a dead parent and the need to seek it. That was why he had immediately agreed to help his friend find an estate he might lease in Hertfordshire.

“I do wish you had taken an estate somewhere more fashionable,” Mrs Hurst said. Darcy had heard the same exact words from her at least half a dozen times. “Mama would not expect or want you to suffer for her by actually residing in the county. A sensible man would have simply found a decent inn and stayed a night.” She and Miss Bingley regarded each other and nodded, the latter adding her agreement in a loud and hearty voice.

Bingley’s cheeks turned red. Darcy went to sit near him, quietly offering his support. There was nothing he could or would say; it was a family dispute.

“I disagree, and I am the one who spoke to Papa about the matter—not you. He regretted not spending more time here. I wish we had so that we might have known her family before they all died or moved away.”

Miss Bingley’s eyebrows rose and fell, a silent sign she did not share his sentiments, but Mrs Hurst’s countenance indicated a degree of understanding.

“It would have been…pleasant,” she said. “But Papa was occupied with his business and family in Yorkshire, and now, there is no one here for us to know. I do wish you had made it a visit of a few days rather than lease an estate.”

In Darcy’s opinion, there was no need to repeat herself; she was becoming reprimanding, and he was annoyed on his friend’s behalf.

“At least he did not purchase it,” Miss Bingley mumbled.

“Be as superior as you like,” Bingley said to his sisters. “But I also expect you to be gracious. If that is too difficult, you may return to London. I shall do well enough without you here. I do not need you to run my household, Caroline. Darcy has managed Pemberley very well without the benefit of a lady while Miss Darcy is so young. You and Hurst have a home of your own, Louisa, if you are so anxious to be amongst people more to your liking.” He stood and, to Darcy, continued, “I need fresh air. Would you care to take a walk?”

Darcy also stood, nodded politely to the ladies, disregarded Hurst, who was still hiding behind the paper, and followed Bingley from the room.

By Monday morning, Mrs Bennet was ready to deliver her invitations to the forthcoming dinner party. Elizabeth admired her mother’s ability to move so quickly from conceiving the idea of holding such an event to being prepared to tell those lucky people who would be asked to partake in it.

“John will deliver these,” Mrs Bennet said, tapping a short pile of notes and naming their manservant, “and these we shall deliver ourselves.” She held a much smaller group of invitations aloft.

The ladies were in the parlour after breakfast. Mr Bennet had already gone away. Elizabeth did not know where; her father seldom spent much time with them when he could avoid it. In truth, she was already anticipating taking a long, solitary walk and thus removing herself from her mother and younger sisters’ company. She loved them dearly, but that did not mean she wished to be with them all the time. The day was long, and she would dutifully and gladly give them all the attention they desired later on.

Her mother shuffled through the cards she meant to hand out herself and moved one into the other pile. “We shall go to Lucas Lodge first, then Netherfield, and afterwards, I wish to call on my sister. ”

Lady Lucas for gossip and to show off that she will be the first to host Mr Bingley, Netherfield so that she might throw Jane at that gentleman, and finally Aunt Philips for more gossip, ideally how Mr Bingley is surely already madly in love with Jane and will soon propose. Elizabeth bit her lips together to avoid laughing at her joke.

Aloud, she said, “It sounds like you have arranged a delightful morning, Mama, but I should not go. You know my father insists I avoid Mr Darcy as much as possible.”

Her mother scoffed. “I do not care what that man has said.”

“Mr Darcy or Papa?” Kitty said, sounding baffled, but Mrs Bennet continued as though she had not heard her.

“Mr Bingley must see us at our best, and that includes being forgiving of his odious friend. I would be glad to never see him again, and if he so much as looks at one of you girls askance, I shall kick him! But”—her mother took a deep breath, evidently meant to calm herself—“Mr Bingley will look upon us more kindly if we overlook his friend’s rudeness. Lizzy, I hope that you and Mr Darcy will soon come to an understanding.”

Lydia guffawed, and Mrs Bennet shot her a disapproving look and said, “Oh, not that sort!” Then she continued giving her instructions to Elizabeth. “You need not say anything to him. Be polite, allow Mr Bingley to see how happy we are to know him, and I shall be satisfied. Your father and his odd notions are unimportant.”

Since Mr Bennet’s decree would permit Elizabeth to act as she most desired—both in avoiding Mr Darcy’s company and this morning’s proposed calls—she preferred not to overlook them. However, her mother insisted, and there was no getting out of it.

A short while later, having completed her preparations, she sat with Jane in her chamber as her sister finished her own.

“I wish Mama did not insist I go,” Elizabeth grumbled.

“I am glad you are coming with us,” Jane said, her voice soft and soothing. “It means so much to my mother, and I hope that once you spend more time with Miss Bingley, you will see what I did at the assembly—that she is really very agreeable. I dare say Mr Darcy will improve upon acquaintance too.”

“You are encouraging me to disregard— disobey— what Papa said. I am proud of you.” It was unlike her older sister, and Elizabeth was not sure whether or not she approved of this show of defiance. “But it does not make me any more inclined to make calls today.”

“Of course I am not saying you should disobey my father! I just think it is important that you provide Mr Darcy with the opportunity to apologise, and?—”

Elizabeth laughed. “He already has apologised. After church yesterday, as I told you, and he did a very poor job of it. It was obvious how reluctant he was to speak to me, and that is because he believes it to be unnecessary. Admit it, you are telling me to disregard Papa’s orders. I would expect it of Kitty or Lydia, but not you or Mary.”

Jane blushed. She sat at a small table covered in pieces of jewellery and other accoutrements and began to arrange them, no doubt as a way to avoid looking at her sister. “I cannot believe Mr Darcy is truly so disagreeable. Mr Bingley thinks well of him, and he is such an amiable, kind gentleman, he would not be friends with someone who was not likewise respectable and good.”

“Then how do you account for his behaviour at the assembly?”

There was a slight pause before Jane responded. “I do not know why he acted as he did, but he must have had a very good reason—something that has nothing to do with you. You were merely the unfortunate target of his unhappiness. Everyone has those moments when they are quick to anger.”

Her voice full of the genuine affection she felt for her sister, Elizabeth said, “You just want everyone to be friends, or at least amiable acquaintances. Very well. I shall go and astonish you—and Mr Darcy—with my politeness.”