Pride and Prejudice: An Amorous Retelling

1 :: Mr. Bingley

It was a truth universally acknowledged that a single man possessing a good fortune was in want of a wife.

This truth was so fixed in the minds of local families, it didn't matter the actual feelings or views said man possessed when he moved into a neighborhood. He was automatically considered the rightful property of one or other of their daughters.

"My dear Mr. Bennet," said his wife to him one day, "have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?"

Mr. Bennet replied he hadn't.

"But it is," Mrs. Bennet repeated and told him how a neighbor had been there and told her all about it.

Mr. Bennet didn't reply.

"Don't you want to know who has leased it?" his wife asked impatiently.

"You want to tell me and I've no objection to hearing it." At least, he had no objections at that moment. This was invitation enough.

"Netherfield's been leased by a rich young man from the north. He came on Monday to see the place and liked it so much, he agreed to take it immediately. Some of his servants will be there by the end of next week."

"What's his name?"

"Bingley."

"Is he married or single?"

"Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure! A single man with four or five thousand a year. What a wonderful thing for our girls!"

"How so? What does this have to do with them?"

"My dear Mr. Bennet," replied his exasperated wife, "how can you be so tiresome? You must know I'm thinking of his marrying one of them."

"Oh? Is that why he's settling here? He intends to marry one of our daughters?"

"Intends... don't be ridiculous! But it's likely he could fall in love with one of them, so you have to visit him as soon as he comes."

"Oh, but you and the girls can go. Or better yet, send them by themselves, for you're still a beautiful woman, my dear. Mr. Bingley might take a liking to you instead."

Mrs. Bennet, deaf to her husband's mockery, chided in all sincerity, "My dear, you flatter me. I have my share of beauty, but I'm nothing extraordinary now. A woman with five grown-up daughters shouldn't be thinking of her own beauty."

"In such cases, a woman rarely has beauty left to speak of."

"But you should go, my dear," Mrs. Bennet asserted again, missing yet again the subtlety of her husband's deprecating humor. "Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go to make way for Charlotte, and you know they never visit newcomers. If you don't go, you know we can never visit."

"I'm sure Mr. Bingley will be very glad to see you. I'll send a note assuring him he can marry any one of the girls he chooses. And I'll put in a good word for my Lizzy."

"Lizzy is no better than the others! She isn't half so pretty as Jane nor half so good-humored as Lydia, yet you always prefer her."

"Lizzy has some sense. The rest are all silly and ignorant like other girls."

"Mr. Bennet, how can you talk that way about your own children? It's terribly annoying." She sighed. "You've no respect for my poor nerves."

"Make no mistake, I have a high respect for your nerves. They're quite my old friends. You've mentioned them often these last twenty years at least."

Mr. Bennet was an odd mixture of sarcastic humor, reserve and caprice that even twenty-three years of marriage hadn't been sufficient time for his wife to understand him. Her mind was less difficult to understand. She was a woman of little information, uncertain temper and generally discontented with life. Her life's purpose was to get her daughters married and her life's enjoyment visiting her neighbors to share gossip.

Despite his words to the contrary, Mr. Bennet had always intended to visit Mr. Bingley and was one of the earliest neighbors to do so. It wasn't until the evening after the visit, however, that he disclosed it to his family.

Observing his second daughter trimming a hat, he said, "I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy."

"Well, we won't ever know what Mr. Bingley likes," said Mrs. Bennet resentfully, "since we aren't ever going to visit him."

"I'm sure we'll meet him at the assemblies, and any one of our neighbors will introduce him," said Elizabeth cheerfully.

"I doubt it since they all have daughters and nieces of their own they'll want to introduce to him," Mrs. Bennet scoffed. Her temper rising at the thought, she began scolding one of her daughters, "Don't keep coughing so, Kitty, for heaven's sake! Have a little compassion on my nerves."

"Kitty does time her coughs badly," said her father, giving Elizabeth a look. Elizabeth hid a smile.

"I'm not coughing for my own fun," replied Kitty fretfully. "Do you think Mr. Bingley will—"

"I'm sick of Mr. Bingley," cried Mrs. Bennet, vexed beyond her imagination.

"I'm sorry to hear that," her husband told her mildly. "Why didn't you tell me before? I certainly wouldn't have called on him this morning. How unlucky. We can't escape the acquaintance now."

The astonishment of his family was just what he'd hoped for, and Mrs. Bennet's shock surpassed the rest as he'd been expecting. Of course, she began to immediately declare it was what she'd expected the whole time and his satisfaction quickly turned to irritation.

"I knew I'd convince you! I was certain you loved your girls too much to neglect such an acquaintance. Oh, I'm so pleased! And such a good joke, too, that you went this this morning and never said a word until now!"

"Now, Kitty, I think you can cough as much as you like," said Mr. Bennet before he left the room, fatigued by his wife's crowing.

"What an excellent father you have, girls!" she said. "At our time of life it really isn't so pleasant to make new acquaintances every day. But for your sakes, we would do anything. Lydia, my love, though you are the youngest, I wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Bingley dances with you at the next ball."

"Oh!" said Lydia proudly, "I'm not afraid. Though I'm the youngest, I'm the tallest."

Forestalling a ridiculous, if potentially amusing, exchange arising between mother and youngest daughter, Elizabeth turned the conversation. "When do you think Mr. Bingley might return father's visit?" she asked, and this successfully diverted her mother's attention.

As expected, their father refused to give any further information about Mr. Bingley, so Mrs. Bennet had to find out second-hand information from one of their neighbors, Lady Lucas. Her report was very favorable. Her husband, Sir William, said he liked him very much. He was young, wonderfully handsome, extremely agreeable, and best yet, meant to be at the next assembly with a large party.

To Mrs. Bennet's way of thinking, being fond of dancing was certainly a step towards being ready to fall in love.

In a few days, Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Bennet's visit and sat with the older gentleman in his library for ten minutes. Though nothing in his manner conveyed it, Mr. Bingley had hoped to see the young ladies of the house. He'd heard much of their beauty. But in the end, he only saw the father. The ladies were more fortunate. They were able to see from an upper window that he wore a blue coat and rode a black horse.

"He has very fine shoulders," Elizabeth murmured to Jane as they withdrew from the window. "He certainly doesn't need padding. I think he has an excellent figure, which is a very lucky thing. I'm hoping he's also very handsome because if he is, we can say he's perfectly suitable as an object of desire."

Accustomed but not entirely reconciled to her sister's plain speaking regarding the male form, Jane blushed and exclaimed, "Lizzy!"

Elizabeth only laughed and winked. Jane dared another glance back out the window before turning her gaze away. Not being plainspoken about such thoughts didn't mean, however, the thought hadn't also occurred to her.