Chapter 2

Jane Bennet was frowning down at the magazine in her hands, her lips silently mouthing French words, when she heard a loud gasp from her right side. She turned from her position next to the crackling fire and turned pale. Charles Bingley, the man she loved, the man who had abandoned her several months previously, was standing a few yards away, staring at her in shock.

For a long moment, the tableau held and then Jane, impelled by ingrained courtesy, curtsied. Bingley, in turn, bowed, though his face was flushed.

“Miss Bennet,” he finally managed. “This is a surprise. I had no idea you were in Town. When did you arrive?”

Jane gazed at him in wonder. Caroline Bingley had made it very clear that her brother knew of her presence in London.

“I have been in London since the New Year, sir, staying with my aunt and uncle Gardiner,” she said uncomfortably.

“Oh!” Bingley returned, and his face fell. “I see. I apologize for disturbing you, Miss Bennet.”

“We are in a library, and you have as much a right to be here as I do. I hope that Mr. and Miss Darcy are in good health?”

Bingley blinked and said, “Yes, they are very well, and my sisters too.”

“I saw Caroline a week ago,” Jane responded, forcing herself to speak calmly. “She was in the best of health then, or I would have inquired about her too.”

Bingley gaped at her incredulously. “What?”

“I saw Miss Bingley last week,” Jane repeated, flushing at Bingley’s look of disbelief. “I called on her a week after I came to London, and she returned the call last week.”

“Caroline … knows you are in London,” Bingley repeated in a daze.

Jane, to her dismay, felt tears form in her eyes. She always wanted to think the best of others, and Caroline Bingley’s false friendship had wounded her to the core.

“I must go, Mr. Bingley,” she murmured, hurrying away. Bingley lifted a hand toward her but then let it drop. What was happening?

/

Elizabeth had been happily poring through Clermont , by Regina Maria Roche, when an odd premonition prickled the back of her neck, and she turned to observe the tall, unwelcome form of Mr. Darcy of Pemberley.

“Mr. Darcy!” she exclaimed with more amazement than courtesy. “What are you doing here?”

Darcy, thoroughly taken aback by the sight before him, gaped briefly before recovering sufficiently to bow and say, “Erm, Miss Bennet, good morning. I came in search of some books for my sister. I hope you are well?”

Elizabeth flushed at this response and managed a returning curtsey. There was no excuse for being rude, even toward a man she disliked profoundly. “I am indeed, sir. Does Miss Darcy enjoy Gothic novels?”

She thought it unlikely that Miss Darcy, supposedly a haughty young lady who could boast of a multitude of accomplishments, would peruse such plebian fare. She was therefore surprised when her companion said, “Yes, she is very fond of Gothics. She enjoyed The Mysteries of Udolpho and The Romance of the Forest , both by Miss Radcliffe. I am hoping to find something else on these shelves to pique her interest.”

Elizabeth found herself smiling at these words. For all that Mr. Darcy was a proud and unpleasant man, it seemed he truly cared for his younger sister. Many a gentleman would sneer at the thought of wandering into Hookham’s library, which was generally filled with women, and those women, while they included some members of the gentry and nobility, also included some of the middle class.

“Excuse me, Miss Bennet, but may I inquire – are you quite alone here?” Darcy asked uneasily, his heart beating faster. The lady, who was wearing a simple muslin blue gown with a dark red pelisse over it, with a red bonnet on her head, was always beautiful, but when she smiled, she was glorious.

“Oh no, indeed not,” Elizabeth returned, then added archly, “I am certainly well known for tromping the glorious countryside of my home, but I would not be so fast as to wander around London alone. My dear aunt from Gracechurch Street is seated near the main door of the library, and Jane is in the Reading Room.”

Darcy goggled in horror. “Miss Bennet is in the Reading Room?”

Elizabeth tilted her head, and one eyebrow flew up. “Indeed she is. Is that a problem?”

Darcy gulped and turned, tempted to rush over to Bingley. A moment later, he turned back with a grimace. It was too late, of course. Bingley would have met Miss Bennet by now. He could only hope that the lady’s handsome countenance did not sway his friend too much.

“Is it possible that your friend, Mr. Bingley, is in the Reading Room?” Elizabeth Bennet inquired, her expression now cold.

“Um, yes, Miss Elizabeth, he is,” Darcy admitted awkwardly.

“I think you need not worry about that gentleman, sir,” the girl returned, tossing her head angrily. “It is obvious that a man who abandoned my sister after paying her such open attention, who did not even bother to bid her farewell, who has ignored her these last weeks, who allowed Miss Bingley to treat Jane with such wanton discourtesy, will be able to manage a passing moment in the same room as my older sister. And Jane, for all that she was heartbroken by Mr. Bingley’s desertion, is far too genteel a lady to cause a scene in a library. I have no doubt they will bid one another courteous greetings and farewells, and your friend will escape without even so much as a prick of conscience.”

Darcy gawked at this incredible speech. He had thought, no, he had been certain, that…

“Miss Bennet was truly attached to my friend?” he blurted out incredulously, then flushed in embarrassment.

His companion’s eyes flamed with outrage, and Elizabeth said, “Of course she was! She truly loved him! But do not worry, sir; she is a saint, my dear sister Jane, and she has forgiven Mr. Bingley, his sisters, and you for the disdain shown toward her.”

The sudden sound of approaching feet caused Darcy and Elizabeth to turn, and a moment later, Mrs. Gardiner appeared around the corner and said hastily, “Lizzy, my dear, Jane has taken ill, and I fear we must leave at once.”

“Of course, Aunt Gardiner,” Elizabeth returned, bestowing a frigid curtsey on Darcy and sweeping out of the alcove toward the front door.

Darcy, confused and dismayed, stood motionless, his brain whirling. He had conspired with Bingley’s sisters to keep his friend unaware of Miss Bennet’s presence in London, certain that the lady wanted Bingley only for his fortune. According to Miss Elizabeth, he had been terribly wrong and it was therefore his fault that his friend, usually the most gentlemanly of souls, was now guilty of abandoning a courteous and beautiful lady.

He was still cogitating when Bingley appeared around the stacks, his own expression a mixture of bewilderment and distress. “Darcy, I must speak to you in private as soon as possible!”

/

Jane wiped her brimming eyes with her handkerchief and stared across the carriage at her favorite sister, who was looking at her worriedly.

“Pray do not worry,” she said, her voice wobbling. “It was merely the shock of seeing him there. I am … I will be well, I assure you.”

“What did he say, Jane?” Mrs. Gardiner asked compassionately. She was seated in the forward facing seat next to her eldest niece, and reached out to take Jane’s gloved hand in her own.

“He … he asked me when I had come to Town, and based on what he said, he was entirely unaware that I was here. But how can that be? Caroline said that he knew I was here...”

“She lied,” Elizabeth said angrily, her eyebrows lowered in anger.

Jane shook her head and a few more tears slipped down her cheeks. “I cannot believe that, Lizzy. I cannot! Yes, she was rude and unkind when she visited last week, but to actually deceive her brother in such a way! It is beyond my comprehension!”

Elizabeth opened her mouth in protest, then closed it as Madeline Gardiner shook her head warningly.

“My dear Jane,” the older woman said, “do you happen to remember the story of Joseph from the book of Genesis?”

Jane gulped, frowned, and then turned a puzzled countenance toward her aunt. “Joseph of Egypt, who became second in command to Pharoah?”

“Yes, that Joseph. If you remember, he was carried off to Egypt after his brothers stole his coat of many colors, threw him in a pit, then hauled him out in order to sell him as a slave. They then proceeded to kill a goat and dip the coat in its blood, whereupon they took it to their father Jacob with a story of having found it out in a field. Jacob was convinced that Joseph had been torn to pieces by a wild animal, little knowing that his own sons had sold his favorite child into bondage. Compared to that, Miss Bingley’s deception is a minor thing, do you not think?”

Jane stared in confusion, her eyes wide. “You are saying that you think Caroline was justified?”

“Not at all! Her deception is sinful and cruel. However,” and here Mrs. Gardiner sighed, “it does you no good to be so optimistic about the characters of those in your sphere. You are a remarkable woman, my dear niece; honest, kind, and generous. Miss Bingley, based on your description, has none of those attributes. She sounds like a social climber who is far more interested in pushing her brother toward a well-connected society miss than a marriage of true affection.”

Elizabeth, who had been holding her tongue with difficulty, said irritably, “That is entirely correct, Jane, and you know it! We are not grand or rich enough for Miss Bingley, and once she realized that her brother was in love with you, she acted in haste to remove him from your sphere. Having succeeded, she would never dream of telling Mr. Bingley of your stay with our aunt and uncle here in Town.”

Jane compressed her lips and looked down into her lap. “I cannot imagine such cruelty, I cannot. It hurts my heart.”

“I know,” Mrs. Gardiner said, patting her niece’s slender arm. “I think it wise to realize something else, too. When someone is in the habit of behaving a certain way, they tend to assume others will as well. Miss Bingley sounds like a prevaricating, tiresome creature, but given her own intense desire for social advancement, it is likely that she assumed that your own ambition was to ensnare a wealthy husband. It is quite probable that the lady truly thinks you do not care much for her brother. She herself would almost certainly accept the offer of a wealthy, high born man regardless of his character, so she assumed the same of you!”

“That is true,” Elizabeth mused thoughtfully. “She certainly was pursuing Mr. Darcy with all her energy, when it seems to me that they have very little in common. Not that I can imagine anyone being happy with Mr. Darcy; he is such a cold, taciturn gentleman. His only positive attributes are his vast wealth and position as nephew of an earl!”

“Lizzy, that is very unkind,” Jane protested. “There is no reason to think that Mr. Darcy has anything to do with this unhappy affair.”

“There is every reason,” Elizabeth retorted, her hands curling into tight fists. “He was at the library as well, in the Gothic section. He was most dismayed when I informed him that you were there as well. Based on his expression and verbiage, I am certain that he was part of the plot to keep Mr. Bingley away from you, dear sister.”

Mrs. Gardiner released Jane’s arm and leaned back against the squabs. “We do not know the details, Elizabeth, though given Mr. Darcy’s treatment of Mr. Wickham, we can hardly expect exemplary behavior from the gentleman. The salient point, I think, is that Mr. Bingley knows of your presence here, Jane. If he still cares for you, he will call. If he does not, you will not see him again.”