Carrie Bebris - Pride and Prescience

Elizabeth was beginning to feel that, in never having heard of Mr. Parrish before this week, she’d been living under a rock. Was there a soul in London unacquainted with him? “I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Parrish recently. He is a generous man?”

“I have hopes that he will finance my next archeological dig.” She could guess what Miss Bingley would have to say about that.

After dessert, the ladies departed to take tea in the drawing room, leaving the gentlemen to talk and smoke in private. Darcy, as usual, declined to partake of tobacco, but the scientists and the earl lit pipes. The pungent scent drifted into the air, carrying with it a light haze. Lord Chatfield leaned back in his chair, drew a long draught from his pipe, and asked the physicist about an experiment he planned to conduct.

The topic appealed to Darcy after the lightweight conversation of those nearest him at dinner. He rose and stretched, intending to exchange his seat for the one beside Chatfield that Elizabeth had vacated. Kendall’s hand, however, closed about his wrist as he tried to pass. The corpulent man had an exceptionally strong grip.

“How is your friend Bingley?” Kendall’s low voice carried a belligerent tone; his face appeared flushed. Darcy would have suspected the man had imbibed too much claret, but he knew better. This show was merely the latest display of his congenial personality.

He stared at Kendall’s fleshy fingers until they dropped their grasp. “I left him in good health,” he said finally.

“I understand he’s newly married.”

He did not bother answering, nor did a response appear expected.

“Tell me,” Kendall continued, “has he learned to think for himself yet, or do you still make all his decisions for him?”

Though tempted to walk away, Darcy forbore. The man obviously intended to speak his mind; to deprive him of the opportunity might provoke a scene right here in the earl’s dining room. Of all things, Darcy loathed scenes. “I offer him advice when asked.” He spoke in clipped tones.

“And did he ask your advice about his sister’s forthcoming marriage?” Kendall snorted. “He probably thinks she made quite a catch in Frederick Parrish.”

“I have not concerned myself in the matter.”

“Too engrossed in your own affairs for a change? Well, tell little Caroline I rejoice in her nuptials. She and Parrish deserve each other.”

As Kendall at last seemed satisfied, Darcy moved away, into the chair he’d sought near the earl. But he found himself unable to focus on the scientific discussion. Instead, he seethed in silence at Kendall’s unprovoked diatribe. What had been the man’s purpose?

Darcy rarely had occasion to interact with Lawrence Kendall. Though they belonged to the same clubs and knew many of the same people, the difference in their ages and dispositions generally prevented their paths from intersecting. When they did encounter each other socially, as tonight, they had very little to say to one another — which was why this evening’s show of spleen on the older man’s part had left him baffled.

His knowledge of Kendall came mostly from the gentleman’s association with the Bingley family. Charles Bingley’s late father had been in business with Kendall; together the two had built a fortune through trade. Near the end of the elder Bingley’s life, the relationship had soured. The two men dissolved their partnership, dividing the assets fairly, at least in the eyes of the Bingley family and their solicitors. Kendall, however, unjustly claimed that he had been cheated of his full share — this, after cheating Mr. Bingley through creative accounting for years.

Kendall first came forward with the assertion of fraud shortly after the senior Mr. Bingley’s death, and renewed the claim last winter. That second time, Kendall had argued with Charles Bingley so long and so aggressively that Darcy’s friend had almost surrendered the assets in question despite his solicitors’ advice. Bingley, inclined to assume the best of everyone, began to believe that perhaps an error had indeed been made. Darcy also suspected Bingley’s wavering to have been motivated by a desire simply to end the unpleasant conflict. He had urged his friend to stand firm.

That was the last he had heard on the subject, until now. It seemed Kendall yet harbored antagonism toward Bingley. And had broadened its scope to include him as well.

Elizabeth, meanwhile, found herself confronted by the other Kendall of the party. Juliet seemed a pleasant enough young woman as the general conversation drifted among such weighty topics as Lady Edith Carrington’s recent presentation at court, and the addition of second flounces to hemlines this season. But no sooner did Miss Kendall learn that the new Mrs. Darcy was sister-in-law to Caroline Bingley, than she maneuvered to sit beside Elizabeth on the sofa for a private tête-à-tête.

“I hear they are to be married Wednesday,” she said without preamble, apparently so focused in her own mind on Mr. Parrish’s plans that she presumed everyone around her to hold the same individual foremost in their thoughts. She smoothed her skirts, not looking at Elizabeth as she spoke. “It will be a very grand affair, I suppose?”

Elizabeth resolved to say as little as possible on the subject. Even had she possessed the information Miss Kendall sought, she had no wish to inflict additional pain on Parrish’s former inamorata by feeding her details she thought she wanted to hear. “I’m afraid I have not been privy to their plans.” Across the room, Lady Chatfield began to pour tea, a distraction for which Elizabeth was grateful. She rose, stating her intention to head for the tea table.

Miss Kendall, however, would not be dissuaded from her subject as she accompanied her. “The wedding will be the talk of the ton, I have no doubt.” Juliet accepted a steaming cup from the countess, added a lump of sugar, and stirred absently. “Miss Bingley will want the most lavish affair her brother can afford, and Freder—” She closed her eyes and swallowed. “Mr. Parrish — will acquiesce in every particular.” She added more sugar to her tea.

Elizabeth injected a note of levity into her voice. “By the following week, something else will seize society’s attention.” She sipped from her own cup, seeking a moment’s reprieve behind its rim. The earl had indicated Miss Kendall suffered from melancholy in the wake of Parrish’s rejection, but Elizabeth thought her eyes seemed unnaturally bright for someone mired in sadness. She attempted to change the subject. “Have you any special plans for Christmas?”

“We played together as girls, you know. Caroline Bingley and me. Dressed our dolls together. Rode horses together.” Miss Kendall added another lump of sugar and continued stirring. The silver demitasse spoon clattered against the delicate porcelain. “We haven’t spoken in years. Our fathers — well, never mind that. But this is a triumph for her, stealing Mr. Parrish from me. That woman set her cap for him and caught him before I knew what was happening.”

Had Miss Bingley actively interfered with the courtship? Given her calculated efforts to discourage her brother’s attraction to Jane, Elizabeth couldn’t put it past her to have aggressively worked to turn the admiration of a wealthy and not-quite-betrothed bachelor toward herself — especially right after the announcement of Darcy’s engagement and the disappointed hopes it represented. If so, Mr. Parrish likely would have been a target regardless of which lady he’d been wooing. Surely Caroline hadn’t pursued him solely out of malice toward Miss Kendall?

“That’s why she’s scheduled the wedding so soon — to spite me.” Juliet dissolved a fourth lump in the china cup. The more sweetener she added to her untasted tea, the more bitter her voice became. Her volume, however, remained low enough that only Elizabeth could hear. “She’s snickering at me right now, isn’t she? Congratulating herself on securing her own happiness and ruining mine all at once.” She expelled a short, unconvincing laugh that sounded more like a horse’s sneeze than an unaffected expression of mirth. “Well, tell her she failed. After they wed, I will see her unhappy.”