6. Chapter 6

VI.

Caroline Bingley did not consider herself to be a malicious person. Certainly this could be deemed a matter of opinion, but as far as she was concerned, her actions were generally reasonable and understandable.

Being the favourite of her mother had undoubtedly spoiled her somewhat, but she had certainly been forced to prove her worth on more than one occasion throughout her life. Her wealth opened certain doors, but her father's method of acquiring their family's fortune had often limited the heights to which she could rise. She did not take well to restrictions; and as her assets were far superior to those of many ladies considered her superiors in society, this simultaneously irritated and motivated her.

Her natural beauty was not something she took for granted and she regularly engaged in the various methods modern society had cultivated to assist ladies in prolonging their features. She neglected nothing in pursuit of the achievements necessary for society ladies: she excelled at music, modern languages, artistic pursuits, and danced every contemporary dance without misstep. Her intelligence and biting wit had served her well in school and then later in establishing herself in Town. In fact, she even felt that her intellect was the feature Mr. Darcy found most alluring in her.

Granted, he had not yet pursued a deeper acquaintance, but she felt sure that this was simply a matter of time. That gentleman had been hounded since his youth by ladies of the ton and their matchmaking mamas; as of yet none had succeeded in securing any lasting interest, but she was undeterred. Caroline believed that patience and repeated exposure would be all she needed to secure a gentleman like Fitzwilliam Darcy and as he was a close acquaintance of her dear brother, her plan had been easily set into motion.

Despite being the middle of three children and female, Caroline was the clear authority among the siblings. Louisa was never especially bright nor often interested in much beyond whatever was considered to be fashionable – be it clothing, food, dances, or any other thing – she followed the dictates of the society matrons and fashion journals with uncompromising rigidity. When she had entered society, she had quickly and easily married a gentleman who would support these whims without complaint as he was merely pleased to be on the receiving end of her rather large dowry, which would allow him to continue his own life of leisure. Caroline had secretly believed Mr. Hurst was not especially impressive as far as potential suitors went, but she considered him to be satisfactory for Louisa and as he would further their family's standings in Town slightly, she encouraged her sister.

However, for her brother and herself, she held much higher goals. Her brother was amiable, attractive, possessed a moderate fortune, and had managed to secure several well-connected friends (the most prominent of which, of course, being Mr. Darcy). All that was left to complete her plan was for Charles to marry a well-connected and (ideally) wealthy society lady, which she deemed to be easily enough accomplished with his many positive attributes. This would then put her in the perfect position as a wealthy, accomplished, well-connected lady: she would be an obvious choice of wife for Mr. Darcy.

And once all of these goals were accomplished, Caroline would finally attain the respect she deserved. No one would dare refuse anything to the Mistress of Pemberley! Her thoughts briefly focused back to her first Season when she first came to properly understand the difference between her status with a father in trade and that of the girls in her school who were born to landed gentlemen. She quickly pushed the distasteful memory away and completed her morning toilette. She was not a lady who dwelt on past injustices; she was strong and ambitious and capable, she had shown them then and she continued to prove herself every day. Her plan had been smooth and without flaw.

Indeed, until quite recently she did not experience any doubts as to its eventual success. But then, not a fortnight ago, Mr. Darcy had remarked in an offhand manner as to the attractiveness of a certain lady's eyes. At first, Caroline had been overjoyed – her plan was finally coming to its final stages – but then her inquiry had brought forth a most unexpected response: Miss Eliza Bennet! Even in thinking of that brown little country chit, she found herself becoming agitated. Taking several deep breaths to calm her agitated state, she reminded herself that he had rolled his eyes and been quite droll about the whole thing; her plan was in no true peril as ultimately, she did not care however many and whichever women he beds as long as he marries her. Caroline looked briefly at her own appearance in the glass and, determining that was all as it should be, she put thoughts of Eliza – she sneered the name like a slur in her thoughts – out of mind as she went downstairs to breakfast at the time she knew Mr. Darcy normally broke his fast.

However, Caroline's efforts to compose herself were quickly abandoned once again when she arrived to the breakfast room to discover that not only was Mr. Darcy not present, but that he was apparently walking in the gardens with none other than Eliza Bennet! They were walking with linked arms and – an audible gasp escaped her lips – he was laughing! She sunk down into a chair without her usual grace. This is unacceptable! She needed time to consider this new development and as none but her abigail knew she was yet awake, she quickly raced back to her rooms to contemplate her next actions.

ooOOoo

Upon his return to the house and Miss Elizabeth's departure, Mr. Darcy found himself at a loss for what to do next. He had originally planned a ride this morning, but now felt that a cold bath may be more in order; certainly sitting in a saddle was not currently an option. He cringed as he imagined the look on his valet's face should he request a second bath not two hours after his first and without having any evidence of a dusty ride to justify the activity.

No, he thought, I will regain my senses soon enough; I need not bother Stewart. Perhaps I may find some suitably distracting estate business in the library. With this plan in mind, he strode purposefully toward the room.

Upon arriving, Darcy was relieved to see the room unoccupied. It was yet too early for Charles to be awake and productive, but he knew Miss Elizabeth enjoyed reading... Stop that, this instant! He commanded of himself; the purpose of this activity is to discontinue thoughts of Miss Elizabeth, not increase them!

Although his outward actions – sitting at the desk, endeavouring to read various estate documents, and so forth – gave the appearance of one deeply engaged in business, his mind was far from such profitable pursuits. Instead, a silent and vicious war was raging within:

The strength of new passion – in such quantity as he had never before experienced – was in such force as to nearly cause physical pain; indeed, he was quite sure that if left unquenched long enough, he would be in substantial physical discomfort, in addition to the tremendous emotional strain of suppressing his baser instincts. He had often been in the presence of attractive ladies – some he would previously have considered superior in physical beauty to Miss Elizabeth – but he had never been so captivated before. He could not help but wonder at these new feelings and his wonder led to varying extreme emotions that ranged from a powerful desire to act to an equally forceful disgust with himself.

Wildly, his thoughts raged toward marriage or even, fleetingly, an improper dalliance. He knew she was not the type of woman to be taken as a mistress or worse, used and cast aside; in fact, even in contemplating such possibilities, he found great distaste. He could no longer pretend he was not interested – Ha! Interested does not begin to describe this oppression! – but he could not countenance thinking of the lady in such a degraded state: She is worth more than that; he felt the truth of those words keenly through his being, but her station in life is still decidedly too far below my own to contemplate marriage.

This led his thoughts unceremoniously into bitter reflections – made the more distasteful because they served to thwart his own desires – of exactly why the lady would not make a suitable marriage partner. In a particular moment of self-reproach, he berated himself for forgetting his place and position: It would be a degradation to my family – Darcy and Fitzwilliam alike – to align myself with a lady whose family has no rank, name, fortune, and relatives to attorneys and tradesmen! Not only this, but how should my relations bear such a trial when those in Town learn of such an event? With what inducement might I be able to justify the taint to themselves? Shall I explain that her eyes bewitched me such that I allowed myself to entirely forget my duties to my family? Her imperfect musical talents were as siren calls to my ears and I could not be restrained?

He could not consider a lady of Miss Elizabeth's standing and fortune a realistic prospect; it would be entirely insupportable. And, what of her family? A tactless, witless, and mercenary mother, and silly, vapid sisters! How could I ever consider, let alone justify, connection with such a family? It would be utterly reprehensible.

In thinking further of family, he remembered his own sister, who was not yet out and would undoubtedly be affected by his choice of bride and her family. Remembering Georgiana and all of their recent struggles pained him – Ramsgate seemed but a fortnight ago despite it being near six months – which memory drove the last vestiges of lust from his thoughts, but there remained an ache nonetheless. Poor Georgie, she deserves better than a brother who would allow his animal instincts to dictate such important decisions! How like a cad and hypocrite I would be to present to my sister that I chose a wife for reasons of base passions, rather than duty and honour.

But here, he stopped. His thoughts had become so abusive that he was forced to recognize his own exaggeration: Come man, it is not so far gone as this! I have made no offers nor overt gestures to the lady, not requested nor received permission to court her – what actions of mine would lead her to expect such advances? I have not imposed upon her.

He nearly laughed aloud as he found a way to rationalize and minimize his feelings: This is practically a schoolboy crush and nothing more. It has, perhaps, merely been too long since I have found a lady worthy of any attention that I have become unable to distinguish between an enjoyable diversion for a few weeks as opposed to a proper courtship. After all, had the lady stronger connections or fortune, I may then be in some serious danger, but as it is, we may enjoy one another's company for a time and then part as friendly acquaintances. And now a smile did grace his face, Yes, a casual, friendly, and even flirtatious acquaintance – provided no improper expectations are set – is just the thing I have needed to regain my humour after recent events!

These self-serving reflections relaxed the gentleman into some complaisance. They served to soothe his sense of honour while also granting his fervent wish to continue to be in Miss Elizabeth's company. Perhaps he was in denial since he seemed entirely unable to sense how great a danger he was already in; it seemed either his confidence in his own strength of will to overcome such petty instincts was formidable or else he could not have realized fully how far his attraction had progressed. In fact, should he have ventured further into his own thoughts, he may have come to understand that his own arrogance was working against him here in believing he was so easily capable of ignoring such deeper emotion, but such reflections were beyond his capacity when the alternative was so tempting.

Indeed, Mr. Darcy did not notice that he never once properly contemplated his unacknowledged favourite qualities in the lady; her wit and vivacity, her refusal to be intimidated or awed by his presence and standing in society, and her caring and compassionate spirit were far more intoxicating to him than her sparkling eyes and well-proportioned figure, but yet he did not attempt to evaluate or even truly acknowledge this element of his attachment. Perhaps on some level he knew that should he look too closely at these qualities he may be forced to re-evaluate his own priorities and behaviours; or perhaps he was merely so overcome with his own ardour that he could not properly identify its source and therefore made the logical assumptions, but regardless, in failing to adequately account for the lady's presence being so overwhelming to his own self-control, Mr. Darcy was thus able to convince himself to believe that he was in no true danger.

With this sense of security, he allowed himself the pleasure of re-playing in his mind their earlier walk and conversation before actually commencing with the various estate and personal matters at hand.

ooOOoo

That evening's dinner was a strange affair. Although it was only their household's party (as the Bennet sisters were eating their food in Miss Bennet's room to conserve that lady's energy), there seemed to be an unusual tension in the atmosphere.

Charles was eager to be done as soon as possible but also a man of impeccable manners, which caused him to vacillate between barely touching each course but feeling compelled to compliment the attention and care that had led to each item, which therefore necessitated his actually sampling many of them. This impatience was undoubtedly due to his knowledge of the upcoming arrival of a certain flaxen-haired lady to the evening's activities. It might have been comical to watch had any of the other party members cared to observe him with any real attention.

Caroline, for one, barely noted her brother's behaviour as her attention all throughout dinner was only for Mr. Darcy. She was singularly attentive to his every perceived need. In fact, every course this evening was for his benefit and to his taste, she had seated him directly across from herself, worn the garment she felt would most capture his gaze, and repeatedly attempted to engage him in conversation of topics that may interest him.

Although no one else was aware, Caroline's meditation all through the morning and the better part of the afternoon had resulted in her decision that she must make her interest in Mr. Darcy more apparent for that gentleman's benefit. She had determined that he simply must not be aware that she would be a willing recipient of his attentions and, as such, had become intrigued by the only other available lady currently in the household. After all, he himself had denied any deeper intentions with her, so he likely was suffering from boredom and lack of options. Caroline therefore would only need to redirect him with her encouragement. If any parts of her clever mind questioned this, she was quick to ignore or silence those parts; she had worked too hard and for too long to be overthrown by a no-name, no-fortune upstart and this interpretation of recent events was the only palatable option!

Perhaps were Charles not so mired in his own thoughts, he might have assisted his poor friend in fending off his sister's many attacks, but as has been previously noted, he was far too consumed with his anticipation of Jane's company to even notice, let alone help. Mr. Darcy, on the other hand, noted the odd behaviours of both Bingley siblings. In fact, their actions were so marked that it appeared even Mr. and Mrs. Hurst were exchanging bemused looks.

Of Bingley's actions, Darcy quickly surmised that he was expecting Miss Bennet to join their party following dinner's conclusion. He found his own thoughts drifting briefly to her sister, who would undoubtedly have to accompany her, and almost found himself wishing for dinner to be complete as well! However, Miss Bingley was insisting on serving him portions of every dish and then inquiring in great detail as to his opinions of each. Even were he not anticipating the events following dinner, this would have irritated him.

"Mr. Darcy, have you yet tasted the roast beef? Is it prepared adequately to your taste?"

"Yes, it is well-prepared; thank you." He suppressed a roll of his eyes.

"And the pork, is not the sauce decadent?" She attempted to be flirtatious while displaying a piece of said pork on her fork.

"Indeed" was all the answer he offered the lady. He barely took note of her many other questions of his opinions on subjects beyond the food, opting to merely provide monosyllabic responses in the futile hope that this would discourage further inquiries; it did not.

By the conclusion of the last course, his mood had wildly fluctuated numerous times between resentful irritability on one extreme and hopeful giddiness on the other. He was careful to avoid examining these emotions too closely and settled for being merely grateful that he was now free to engage in some type of activity – any activity! – that would discourage further interaction with Miss Bingley.

Naturally, Charles quickly dismissed the idea of the sexes going to separate rooms following the meal; after all, the sooner they were all assembled in the drawing room following dinner, the sooner the Bennet ladies might join them. However, upon arriving in the room, he found himself at a loss as to what he should actually do until their arrival. It seemed his eager energy had no other outlet but to pace about the room, periodically estimating the temperature of each part of the room in order to determine the optimal seating location for Miss Bennet's health.

For his part, Mr. Hurst inquired of his sister-in-law if the card table would be making its appearance (as they had been several evenings now without), but her response indicated that cards were quite out of the question as no one among the party wished to play. Indeed, that lady had learned from Mr. Darcy that he did not particularly enjoy cards and since then, she had been resolute in her denial of the activity. As he found no special interest in any of the company if cards were not to be played (his wife and in-laws included), Mr. Hurst promptly settled himself into the softest sofa and fell to sleep easily.

Mrs. Hurst, who had seated herself on the sofa nearest the fireplace, had intended to engage her sister in conversation over the latest Journal from Paris, but quickly realized that this would not happen when she observed her sister's determined gaze upon Mr. Darcy. Feeling left out and rather put out, Louisa looked toward her husband who was comfortably ensconced on the other sofa, looking quite ready for yet another nap. With a small "humph," that was noticed by none, Louisa resigned herself to admiring her various jewellery pieces and fantasizing of future purchases.

For their parts, Miss Bingley and Mr. Darcy had come into the drawing room with divergent goals; hers was to promptly engage him in any manner of conversation or activity possible and his was to avoid those very same events. As she had immediately taken hold of his arm upon completion of dinner, he was left with no choice but to escort her into the next room; however, he was careful to maintain a detached affect and answered only the questions that absolutely necessitated responses and, even then, was quite miserly with his words. This did not seem to have his desired effect as the lady only gripped tighter and inquired more eagerly of him.

In a final effort to disengage himself from Miss Bingley, Mr. Darcy indicated that he would be reading in his favourite armchair. Naturally, Miss Bingley was forced to release his arm, as there was insufficient room for two adults on a single chair within the confines of propriety. She was not one to retreat so easily and agreed quite animatedly with him that reading would be an exquisite form of pastime for her as well! She therefore chose the second volume to the book that the gentleman was perusing and made a show of settling in to her seat on the couch with her sister – directly across from the gentleman – to begin her activity. Thankfully for Mr. Darcy, she did not observe his un-gentlemanly eye roll at her display.

With all of the party thus situated did Elizabeth and Jane enter the drawing room.

A/N: I know that this chapter lacked dialogue, but I felt the need to develop some of the characters and their thoughts a bit more and this was the only way that was working for me. I am also trying to keep somewhat with Ms. Austen's style (as well as a 21st Century American can ;)) and she does have large passages of text description rather than dialogue for many scenes, so I do feel it's in line with the original book, as well as appropriate for the development of this story. However, as always, I welcome suggestions for improvement.

I hope you still found the chapter enjoyable and with the Bennet sisters joining the party, the next chapter should be pretty fun (and more dialogue heavy), so stay tuned!

As always, reviews – constructive and supportive alike – are SO appreciated! They really motivate me to keep going and help me to improve, so THANK YOU! Also, thank you to all those who added this story or me to alerts and favorites – I'm honored!