Who: Jane Bennet & Charles Bingley What: A ring and some necessary conversations Where: Music Room When: Thursday, July 14 Rating: CW for discussions of racism and xenophobia Status: Complete
The beach had come and gone from Summerview Park, but Bingley hadn't stopped smiling all the while. He and Jane had been to London together as well, bringing the pearl to R & S Garrard, the jewelers he'd contracted for Jane's ring. They had seemed surprised to see him, given that his correspondence had otherwise indicated that he wouldn't be able to visit town- but, with that remedied, they were all too pleased to roll out the proverbial red carpet for him (and his money).
With the promise of no more than a fortnight before delivery, they'd returned to Summerview that night. Longer time spent in London might have been tempting, but they were… already testing the newfound boundaries of even being able to leave, and, well, better to be safe this first time. Later, when they had to search for a home, they would be away for longer periods of time… and, well, married. Then none of those silly rules would matter or apply.
~~
A modiste had been to Summerview, spending two days secluded with Jane, Elizabeth, and Caroline, getting them measured and fitted for… whatever it was they needed. Charles had been roundly dismissed from the area (by Caroline), and warned against stepping foot there before being reinvited to do so. Properly abashed, he'd kept all curiosities quiet, and instead spent the days in the game parlor, using the cards to distract himself.
~~
In the end, it wasn't a fortnight, but instead a mere eight days before the post had delivered that oh-so-precious parcel. Charles had all but skipped through the corridors in search of Jane, and finally spotted that familiar figure in the music room. He had to bite his lower lip to keep from grinning too broadly as he approached, and once closer, he gently touched her shoulder before stepping into view. "Hello, my sweet."
--
Jane truly could hardly wait to marry Charles. She was entirely certain of her choice, and hadn’t had a single moment of hesitation or doubt. Her only concern, truly, was how meeting her mother would go over. He’d assured her several times that she did not need to have concern for it, but it was difficult imagining the embarrassing way in which she knew her mother was capable of acting. Jane had been navigating the letters well so far, and she was glad that Charles had written to her father, if only to establish that line of contact between them.
The whirlwind of wedding planning that they had set off to was very exciting. As much as she’d grown to enjoy the park and its delights - when they weren’t being unfairly tricked anyway - Jane had very much enjoyed their afternoon in London when they went to the jeweler. They’d made most of it, and had come up with a beautiful design. She could hardly wait for it.
Of course, other preparations had also kept her very busy. The modiste had been to the park and had kept Jane very occupied for a few days. They’d looked at what felt like a hundred examples of fabric, and she’d been measured from every angle. She wasn’t allowed to tell Charles about that visit in much detail, other than she believed the modiste to be very talented at her craft and that the dresses she made would be beautiful.
While planning the wedding was very exciting, she found moments in which she could relax and occupy herself otherwise for at least short periods of time. Jane was not the pianist that her sister Mary was, but she did enjoy occasionally playing a tune and listening to others. She sat on the bench seat, and had been playing a ballad that wasn’t too quick in tempo when she felt that gentle touch against her shoulder. With a wide grin, she looked up at him, “Good afternoon, my love. You seem in a cheerful mood.” Not that it was abnormal, really, but he seemed especially pleased to see her.
--
He had waited for a break in the music before touching Jane's shoulder, not wanting to interrupt her playing- even for something that he thought as important as this. But the music came to a stop and she looked up, her words drawing a flush to his cheeks, and a quick attempt at explanation, "Yes, well, I- you see, the post has come, and…"
--
His cheeks warmed, and Jane noted that she was beginning to pick up on even more of the smaller details between them. They were things that you only really learned when you studied someone for a period of time and came to know them in such intimate ways as what life partners surely would. He mentioned the post, and her gaze dropped from his gaze to his hands where he held a small parcel. A small gasp escaped her, and she glanced back up to him, “Is that… did they send it early?” There was - to her knowledge - only one item from the wedding that they had requested together that would come in such a package.
--
Bingley managed a single nod, and he set the paper package in Jane's hands. It did not show much wear from the postal handling, but perhaps that came with fine care of something so expensive and dear.
He moved to sit beside her on the bench, but then thought better of it, standing and… then thinking better of that, Charles finally settled on his knees there beside Jane, as if once more prepared to propose. The question had already been asked and answered, of course, and he certainly didn't expect that any response would have changed, but… it still felt right, to be on his knees there as Jane first saw the ring that would signify this commitment they were making to one another.
--
The package was settled into her hands, but she hadn’t begun unwrapping it. He moved to sit by her, then he stood again, and then… down to his knees beside her. She certainly did not expect another proposal, but she couldn’t help smiling sweetly at him, her hand lifting just a moment to brush against his cheek before she set about actually opening that package.
The string was removed, and then the paper unfolded from around the box. There was a slightly larger, even sturdier box for the shipment, and then inside of that was nested a ring box surrounded by a little packaging filler for safety. With the wrapping set aside, Jane unlatched and opened the final box to reveal the ring that was inside.
A sharper gasp escaped her then as she held it low in her lap so that they could both see it. The pearl that he’d given her was perfectly set in the center, surrounded by sparkling diamonds in a pattern that reminded her of the stars. That was what he had promised her… the stars themselves, if that was what she wanted. The design had come together even more perfectly than she could have imagined. Her heart beat a little faster now, “I have my star, Charles.”
--
His eyes had half drifted closed at that fond touch, but when Jane started to unwrap the parcel, he was once more rapt with attention. The packaging came undone, bit by bit, until finally…
Charles gasped aloud- he couldn't help it. Even speaking with the jewelers in person, he hadn't truly been able to visualize how stunning this piece of jewelry might one day be. They had put their very wishes and words to metal and precious gems.
"I admit, I… had doubted that they might really be able to craft something worthy of you… worthy of our love, Jane," his voice still an awed sort of whisper. "But if anything could have been… it is this." Carefully, he plucked the ring from its resting place, holding it up for her. "Will you wear it, my love?"
--
When they’d spoken to the jewlers about wishing for a centerpiece for the pearl and a design reminiscent of the stars, she had thought perhaps they would come up with something that was sufficiently sparkling, but she couldn’t truly imagine it until now. The burst of glittering gems looked like a distant star in the night sky, and she couldn’t have been more thrilled.
His words made Jane smile wider, a slightly emotional little laugh escaping her, a few happy tears brimming in her eyes. She gave a quick nod, her curls bouncing a little as he asked if she would wear it, “Of course I will, Charles. It really is perfect, isn’t it? It’s more than I ever could have dreamed.” She reached out, offering her hand to him to place the ring, relaxed and thankfully (mostly) steady.
--
He took her hand in his, delicately holding her fingers in place so he could slide the ring onto her fourth finger, where it settled… well, as if it had been made for her, of course. Bingley then drew that same hand up and kissed her knuckles, a few unexpected tears brimming in his own eyes as well.
An inhale, a little shake of his head, and he released her hand. Looking up at her, and feeling a bit daring, Charles reached up and carefully brushed aside a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "I'll never need to look up at the night sky to cast my dreams on falling stars ever again, Jane. You hold one, because you are my dream."
--
Her fingers curled around his as he lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles, and she couldn’t help smiling. The ring fit perfectly, of course. They’d taken the necessary measurements, and though it still felt unfamiliar for now, she was sure that there would come a time when it felt as much a part of her as her hand itself.
Jane knew that this was a public room where anyone could walk in without notice, and that was the only thing that kept her from kissing him as she wanted to. “If you wished to, Charles, I believe you could have resounding success as a poet,” she still grinned, and though she’d later examine that ring further now that it was on her hand, she was still memorizing this moment with him, “I am your dream, and you are mine. I am so very excited for starting our life together… and now just one more piece is in place.” Of course, they were already walking along in that journey, but it wouldn’t be official for a few more weeks.
--
"I can't imagine sharing those words with anyone but you," he admitted, almost abashed at the compliment. "They wouldn't feel right being… read or proclaimed and analyzed."
He finally stood, but didn't immediately move to reoccupy the bench beside her. "If you wish to continue playing, I will happily be an appreciative audience."
--
She had not, of course, wanted to embarrass him or make him feel uncomfortable with her observation. She gave a gentle smile and assured him, “I understand that sentiment. I merely meant… your words are very romantic, and I am so lucky to be the woman that inspires such sentiments.”
Jane considered things for a moment before she likewise stood, “I had been playing for a while before you arrived, though I would be happy to play for you again. For now, perhaps some more comfortable seating? Though I play well enough, I am not so accomplished to carry a conversation at the same time. I want to fully enjoy having a few moments with you.”
--
"Comfortable seating is quite fine," Charles assured her, stepping to Jane's side and reaching for her hand, intertwining their fingers. It wasn't far to find a chaise to sit down, closer than they once would have dared, but… still within the realm of propriety.
He drew her hand up and kissed her knuckles again, smiling happily. "You needn't understate your accomplishments, either, Jane. I am wholly awed by you, no matter what."
--
Their fingers intertwined, and Jane squeezed his hand gently as they took their seats together. It was good just to be near him without a whole array of wedding decisions also set at their feet.
Although she was certain that she was not as accomplished as Caroline or Louisa, she didn't say as much. It wouldn't really be a helpful statement, and he never judged her for having had less opportunity, "I have no doubt of that. You have been so wonderfully supportive, Charles, and knowing I have you by my side has given me both strength and peace." She had been faced with a lot of decisions about the wedding, and it seemed that they'd both been writing many letters to both of their families for the planning. Her mother had desperately wanted to be involved in every step of it while Jane had distinctly… leaned into excuses that prevented such involvement.
--
Charles wouldn't have ever thought to compare Jane to his own sisters (though perhaps the reverse might have been true). They were different people, and they'd had different opportunities presented to them. And yes, perhaps his perception of Jane was colored by the love he held for her… but what man in love could have said anything different?
"I am glad that I can grant you those things, my love. You deserve all that and so much more." Well, the very stars themselves, as he'd said. Now plucked from the sky and captured on her ring finger. "I'm only relieved that it seems I'm able to… somewhat provide that," he added, with a playful sort of smile.
--
Jane’s smile mirrored his own, though a small flush came to her cheeks. His wording did catch her interest, and she assured him, “You have provided more than I had ever hoped for and then some.” It was an easy thing to confirm, though it did bring a lingering question to her mind. Her mother had thought to immediately ask, but… Jane still hadn’t.
After a moment, examining the very fine ring that had been commissioned specifically for her, she finally mustered the courage to ask, “Charles… is it imprudent of me to ask about… money? I… it hasn’t mattered, really. Not for my decision. I just want to marry you because… well, because you’re wonderful in every way and I love you so much that it feels that my heart may burst with it. That’s all that I need.”
She took a breath, and continued, “But I saw the way that the jewelers acted around you, and I am worldly enough to surmise that your family has been afforded fine educations and certainly very fine possessions. This ring and the fabrics for my dress are the most luxurious items I’ll certainly have ever possessed, and… truly the number does not matter to me because I know that you’ll provide for me - for us. Though I can’t help feeling that perhaps knowing would make me feel a little more prepared for whatever questions anyone may throw our way. I hardly want anyone to think that I’m… well, ill-informed or aloof, either way.”
--
Bingley had expected Jane to ask about money, eventually. It wasn't something that he wanted to hide from her, now that they were engaged and he had no reason to believe that his income played any part in her decision. Moreover, he'd also promised her father that he would discuss it with her, and their parents were all set to arrive here at the manor tomorrow.
"It's not impudent," he offered, first. "We are to share a life together, Jane, so it is important for you to know what… what I bring to that match. Beyond, of course, my effusive love for you." This added with a small smile, hoping to ease her tension over the topic.
"My parents emigrated shortly after they married. My father- ah, his name was Rakesh, I suppose I've never told you that, either. And my mother's name is Nalini. They took an English surname when they came here, but they never changed their first names, and they gave us middle names in Hindi." He gave Jane's hand a small squeeze.
"But they came here to seek their fortune, as so many have. My father had worked with the new jacquard looms in India, and was quite adept at it. Knowing how popular Indian fabrics were becoming, he invested in a mill, teaching them the techniques and eventually taking control of import and export. His name and his mill became synonymous with silk brocade, damasks, jacquard, and the finest, purest dyes. It's from him that I found my love of color and patterns."
He was rambling. "I went to Eton and Oxford, but by the time I was at Oxford, my parents had decided to sell the mill upon my father's death. They'd secured more than enough to provide a generous dowry for Louisa and Caroline both, and I wouldn't need to work, either. That, right or wrong, had been their goal. I could have inherited the mill and worked as he had, but that wasn't what they wanted for me. They wanted me to be able to enjoy the fruits of their labors, in ways that they weren't always able to do."
"So when my father died, 75% of the mill was sold to a man my father had trained up and trusted. From that sale, the investments they'd made, and the remaining share of the mill's profits, Louisa and Caroline were each given twenty thousand, and I have a secured living of at least four thousand per year."
Charles took a deep, heavy breath. The weight of all that had settled hard on his shoulders, but now Jane knew it. For better or for worse.
--
Although Jane could argue that Charles brought much more to their match beyond love and even money, she also wanted him to be able to enter that discussion without interference. Grateful that he was willing to speak on the topic, she gave a nod and a smile, prepared to listen.
She committed the names of his parents to memory, and somewhere there was a pang in her heart to think that in immigrating, they changed their family name and even gave their children distinctly English names in an effort to… blend in. She squeezed his hand in return, her gaze soft and attentive.
Jane took in those details about the fine fabrics, Charles learning a love for color and pattern, and his parents' wishes for their children. They had been very successful, indeed, to have made such a fortune just in his father’s lifetime and to pass that along to their children. She wondered if things would have been different if his father hadn’t sold the mill… if he ever would have come to Summerview, or if he’d have taken on more of a life dedicated to following in the footsteps of his father.
Her eyes had widened a little at that number, and her cheeks flushed, but she was very careful not to let herself become too flustered. She gave a nod, acknowledging the information she’d been given, and after a moment she admitted, “Your parents did very well for themselves, then. I can hardly fathom that amount of money, honestly. My father’s living is half of yours or less, though we were always cared for and comfortable enough. My own dowry… well, I suppose you’ll discuss the details with my father, but it’s a small fraction of what your sisters are entitled to, though Lady Whistledown has promised the additional five thousand.”
Quickly following, she squeezed his hand and assured him, “I know that the money makes no difference to you, Charles. That… no matter how little I may bring additionally into the picture, that’s not what our marriage or our love is ever founded upon. I’m just wrapping my mind around it a little. Thus far in life I’ve had only around forty pounds of pin money a year to do with what I please.”
--
"Were I allowed to refuse the dowry without causing offense to you or your father, I would, Jane. I do not need the money, nor do I wish to cause any kind of financial hardship on those who are to become my own family." It was a thin line to walk, perhaps, and Bingley wasn't quite sure how to navigate it. "As to the money from our hostess, I daresay that should go to you, no?"
He gave her hand another small squeeze in return. "I had very deliberately avowed myself not to discuss the number, here at Summerview, until such a time as this. With a woman I'm already set and indeed eager to marry, apart from any monetary concerns. There have been… far too many others, over the years, who heard the number and designed to craft an affection to the money but not to me." With Jane there had been no such worries.
--
She gave a small smile, and agreed, “Although I would allow the refusal at your insistence, I believe my father to be too proud. I would not wish to injure his pride by declining it.” It would be almost unheard of for a dowry to be declined. In fact, Jane had sometimes worried that she may not find a match at all if her suitor was displeased with the amount of her dowry. He added that the money from Lady Whistledown should go to her, and she flushed, “I would not decline it, Charles, if that’s what you would agree to do with the funds. I would not want to squander it, though. Perhaps… set it up in a fund or investments to grow, though I know very little of those things.”
Jane could only imagine how things might have differed if her Mama had been around to interfere with their relationship sooner. His wish not to be known by his money… her mother was a bloodhound out for that sort of information. “We could be practically penniless and live in a one room cottage, and I’d be the happiest I’ve ever been just to be with you, Charles. Even if I could assume from your education and status that you likely had a comfortable living, I could not imagine having set eyes on you for money alone and it saddens me to think that others would have. Money provides… pretty things and security, yes, but it’s your love… your kindness, intellect, warmth, and friendship that I have affection for.”
--
"No, certainly not. I wouldn't even mention the thought of it to any but you, Jane." Such impropriety, truly. Never indeed.
"Perhaps the money from Whistledown shall help secure the new Bingley Manor? That would benefit us both, to be certain, and it is… an investment of a sort. In our own family's future."
He'd never had cause to doubt or wonder if Jane had anything less than true intentions toward him, apart from any lofty societal or monetary goals. It had been refreshing, revitalizing even. Leaning over, he pressed a gentle kiss just to her temple, but there was a grin on his features as he added a playful, but wholly insincere, "You forgot to mention how devilishly handsome I am, my love."
--
She gave a nod as he suggested that the money bestowed upon them by their hostess go towards funding their future home, “Of course. It is a very worthwhile investment. Not only will we wish to select a home, but even if it does have some furnishings already, we’ll certainly want to put our own touches on it as well.” A grin and she suggested, “We’ll make it colorful. Tasteful, of course, but we’ll incorporate those colors and patterns you grew to love so much.” She lifted her free hand there to gently touch the vibrant fabric of his vest, just over his heart.
Jane smiled as he brushed that kiss to her temple, and though he was playful with his statement, she was very adamant when she replied, “You are devilishly handsome. I’m… perhaps still growing accustomed to being allowed to acknowledge it. Society's rules on such things make it difficult to express truths sometimes.” For so long she’d been told if she even looked at a man too long that she might bring scandal upon her family.
In addition to that, she had her own very particular feelings about appearance. Even in her mother’s letter in response to her engagement, that had been a prominent theme. I knew you couldn't be so beautiful for nothing. Beautiful and sweet… but he saw her as so much more than just that, “I appreciate a great many things about you, Charles. All I have been noted for until I met you is my beauty. I always wanted to be noted for other things… and that’s why I may be naturally prone to speaking more about other qualities before appearance. You are strikingly handsome, Charles, and if you need me to say it more, I’m happy to do so. I never want you to doubt that I find you attractive,” she said this with flushed cheeks and a smile, even a little playful despite the sincerity of her conversation.
--
His heart quickened at the touch, simple though it was. Charles no longer questioned the reactions he felt to Jane's presence.
"I do not need you to say it," he replied, a moment later. "That you are willing to… to touch me, even in simple ways- to say nothing of your kisses, heady and intoxicating that they are- surely that all points to… more than a mere passing tolerance for my appearance."
He paused a moment, considering something, before finally adding, "I am aware that, beyond the style of fashionable English clothing, I am quite obviously the son of an immigrant. And with that comes… prejudice from some, assumptions from others. My family and I have all been in many spaces that would not have otherwise tolerated our presence were it not for our income. Matches for my sisters have been revoked upon the realization that the children of such a match would not solely bear their father's skin tone."
A deeper breath, a sighing exhale. "You are undoubtedly the loveliest, most striking woman I've ever known, Jane. But that beauty only skims the surface of all that you are, of all that I love."
--
The terms that he used surprised Jane. Willing… tolerance. Her brows drew a little as he spoke, but she remained quiet, giving him time to work through whatever thoughts or emotions had come to the surface. In truth, Jane was a little naive about the challenges that his family had suffered for the color of their skin. She knew some had certain prejudices, but she held none of her own.
"I am more than just willing and tolerant, Charles. Whatever hesitation others may feel in their small minded ways, I look at you and see the most handsome gentleman I've ever met. I cannot pretend that I fully grasp the struggles you have endured based on the color of your skin, but I want to do everything I can to learn. I want… to embrace all that you are, and where you come from." Jane knew his parents had done what they thought necessary to protect themselves and their children. She wanted to do the same for the next generation, though she didn't know that they would make all the same choices.
"When we have children, I hope they look like you. I have known that they will be a blend of us, and never once would I wish that they take on my complexion. I want them to know and embrace their heritage. I want to learn so that I can help teach them. I will always be proud to be with you, Charles."
--
"I would not ever expect you to fully know what it is like, Jane. Nor had I ever thought you harbored such hesitations. It isn't something I intend to… color our day-to-day lives, if I can help it. I very keenly want you to be my wife- that will never change. I just wanted you to know… what others may think of you, by association, once that happens. So you could make the choice with full information."
I want to do everything I can to learn. I want to embrace all that you are, and where you come from.
Casting aside caution, Bingley withdrew his hand from Jane's just to, in turn, reach up and brush fingers against her chin, turning her gaze up to him- and then leaning over to kiss her. "I am so honored to have you choose me, Jane."
--
Without hesitation, Jane shook her head and insisted, “I care not what others think of me, Charles. Not in that regard. Not when such thoughts are born of senseless fear or judgment.” She almost pitied them…for not allowing themselves to know such wonderful people. For judging others without taking care to know them for who they truly were. “I know that we will not fully be able to escape such people for all our days, but if there is ever a space that is unwelcome to you, neither of us belong there. Where you go, I will go, and if we are not wholly embraced, then we will take our patronage elsewhere,” she insisted resolutely, without flinching.
Although they were in a technically public place, no one else was in the music room at that moment. She did not hesitate to lean into that kiss just a little, lingering for a sweet moment, “We choose each other. We always will, Charles. Of that, I am very certain.”
--
"If you are trying to make me fall further and further in love with you, Miss Bennet," he had leaned his forehead to hers once the kiss parted, keeping the moment close and sweet, "it is very much working." That, he supposed, was part of what Jane meant- in the continual choosing of one another.
--
She smiled a little as they remained close, leaning a little into one another’s space without care for if anyone happened to see it, “I am just being truthful, my love, but if such a goal is accomplished by those truths, then I can see no fault in it.” After all, being more in love with one another could never be a bad thing. They were already promised to one another, and she was counting down the days until she was Mrs Bingley instead of just the eldest Miss Bennet; 25 days.