by Jennifer Joy
"What did you think of Miss Kingsley, Jane? Is she not diverting? And she has so many friends…"
"She has taken a liking to you. Her parlor was lovely," said Jane, looking wistfully out of the window.
"She is quite the accomplished lady. All of the paintings and drawings are her works, as well as the lacework and embroidery on the chair cushions," Elizabeth added. The room had felt like a shrine of Miss Kingsley’s feminine accomplishments, but Elizabeth could not blame her. She imagined that she would want to display herself in a similar fashion if she possessed such talents. Or maybe not…
Jane reached up to wipe the fog off the inside of the glass. "It is dreadfully cold. I hope the house is warm."
"What did you think of Mr. Gordon?" Elizabeth asked with a giggle, hoping to cheer Jane.
"He is a handsome gentleman, but his excessive compliments made me uncomfortable.”
Handsome hardly described him. Mr. Gordon looked like a Grecian statue with his perfectly chiseled features and muscular build topped with a halo of gold hair. Lydia would melt into a puddle of drool at the sight of him.
“I daresay that other ladies are flattered by his attention. His conversation could not have been too dull. I was so busy meeting new people, I hardly had the chance to speak with him.”
“He is every bit as charming as he appears, and I do not mean to imply that his manners were anything but those of a gentleman. However, there was something… I cannot say what it was specifically… I did not feel that I could relax around him.”
In other words, Mr. Gordon was not Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth had fretted all afternoon about how best to tell Jane that Mr. Bingley was away, and now the moment had come to burden her wretched sister with the news.
“It was thoughtful of Mr. Darcy to bring you a plate of food,” she started. “You will need your strength for when Mr. Bingley returns.”
Jane turned away from the window, straightening in her seat. "Mr. Bingley is away?"
"I learned as much from Mr. Darcy. Apparently, Mr. Bingley had some business up north, and he only left yesterday morning. Mr. Darcy did not know when Mr. Bingley is supposed to return, but when he comes home, he must find you well."
A smile brightened Jane's face while her eyes remained sad. "I would much rather see him sooner than later, but I am content to wait. He cannot be gone forever— not even at Miss Bingley's doing," she said, giving Elizabeth cause to laugh.
"You are far too kind, Jane— far kinder than I am in all regards, but especially in reference to Miss Bingley." Elizabeth thought for a moment. "I wonder if Mr. Bingley is pining away for you as we speak. I can imagine him miserable and working far too hard in his effort to forget you."
She could have kicked herself for her unfortunate phrasing. Jane went serious. "You do not think he will forget me so easily, do you?"
Elizabeth paused, thinking before she spoke this time. Only the truth would do. "If he does, then he does not really love you, and you are better off without him," she said softly. To lighten the mood, she added, "You could marry Mr. Gordon instead."
Jane threw her reticule at Elizabeth. It landed harmlessly in her lap, but Jane’s loveliness shone through her melancholy and brightened her aspect considerably.
"What about you, Lizzy? Did you meet anyone you feel tenderly inclined toward this afternoon?"
Elizabeth thought. There had been several gentlemen at the card party, but none of them had offered anything particularly intelligent to say. "If I am honest, I would have to admit that Mr. Darcy was the only gentleman there of any interest— and you know my feelings toward him."
"Even after his apology? How are you any different from him if you refuse to pardon his offense against you?"
“Offenses, Jane. There have been more than one.”
“And did I not hear him apologize to you for them— and in front of Miss Kingsley and myself, for that matter? And you? Did your apology mean nothing?”
Elizabeth grumbled. Of course, Jane was right. "I only apologized to him for my behavior toward him at the Netherfield Ball, but my opinion of him remains unchanged. Were it not for his offenses against Mr. Wickham, I could forgive Mr. Darcy fully and admit my error. But he abused his position of authority over one who could have benefited from a fraction of his kindness." She shrugged her shoulders and tossed back her tendrils to fiddle with her earring. Had she forgotten to wear them? She reached over to the other ear and felt the gold droplet.
"Be that as it may, outside of his unflattering comment at the Meryton Assembly— which I am certain he regrets— he has never acted in a manner worthy of what Mr. Wickham accuses him… Lizzy, what is wrong?" asked Jane.
Elizabeth felt over the cushions of the coach, shoving her fingers in the crevices between the cushions. “I am missing an earring.”
Jane searched over the floor while Elizabeth patted down her dress in the hopes that it had caught on the fabric or in a fold.
“Might it have fallen at Miss Kingsley’s home?” asked Jane. “You do tend to fiddle with it when you are nervous.”
Elizabeth did not wish to return so soon after their departure, nor did she want to search the room with everyone’s eyes upon her. “I will send a message as soon as we are home. There is the chance that a maid will find it if it is there.”
Jane grabbed Elizabeth’s fidgeting hands. “It will be found, Lizzy. Anything that important cannot stay lost for long.”
“It is only a silly earring,” Elizabeth started, her eyes burning and adding to her frustration.
“Nonsense. Those were our grandmother’s earrings, and the only pretty adornment you have ever owned.”
“Help me look around the cushions again, Jane? I hate to think what Father will say if he found out that I lost one of Grandmama’s earrings.”
Their search ended abruptly when the carriage stopped and the coachman opened the door to hand them out.
“Let us go inside. We will think better in the warmth,” suggested Jane.
Hastening up the steps before the chill in the air seeped through her coat, Elizabeth opened the door before the butler could, intent on her design to send a message to Miss Kingsley. He jumped out of her way before they collided.
"I am so sorry, Pigeon. It is frightfully cold outside and my mind is distracted," she apologized.
"There is a roaring fire in the drawing room. Your mother and sisters are there, having only recently arrived," he informed her.
"Is Father not home?" she asked.
"Mr. Bennet has not returned from his club since departing after breakfast," Pigeon said, his face a study in the art of detached passiveness. He bowed and went about his duties, leaving Elizabeth and Jane alone.
Penning a short letter, Elizabeth asked for it to be sent to Miss Kingsley’s before joining her family downstairs.
Laughter and song reached her from the other side of the drawing room door. At least someone was putting the new pianoforte to good use. She opened the door to the tune of a flat key and halted in place. The room looked vastly different.
Mother rushed over to her. “How was your tea with Miss Kingsley?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued, “You will never guess what I have been up to.”
“Shopping?” Elizabeth asked, a bite in her voice. A harp stood proudly in the corner, its gilded frame gleaming in the late afternoon light. New tables in assorted heights and widths were scattered about the room with hothouse flowers adorning some and gas lamps on others. Portraits of people Elizabeth did not know nor had ever seen adorned the walls between samples of embroidery she did not remember doing.
Now that Miss Elizabeth had gone, Darcy had no inclination to stay.
Only one more card game continued, and Sophia departed from them to sit on a couch near the fire where Gordon lounged. Plopping down on the cushion, she reached over to pick something stuck on the lace of a pillow. "What is this?" She held up a gold earring shaped like a raindrop.
Darcy recognized it immediately. "It
belongs to Miss Elizabeth," he said.
Sophia contemplated him with narrow eyes, a look she had used a lot with him recently. He should not have responded so quickly.
"Interesting that you should notice. I doubt you know what earrings I am wearing," she observed.
She was right. He had no idea if she even wore earrings. "It is nothing," he said. "While speaking with Miss Elizabeth, she pulled her hair aside to fiddle with her earring, and I happened to notice."
Gordon sat up, "I noticed that too. What a charming lady. She is not so handsome as her elder sister, but what she lacks in beauty, she makes up for in character. I could not help but notice how she made everyone around her laugh."
Darcy scowled. How could Gordon presume to compare the two Bennet sisters when they were as different as night and day? In every way, Miss Elizabeth was superior.
Standing up, Gordon reached out his hand. "You cannot entrust it with a servant. Allow me to return it to her. I am curious to see if the other Bennet sisters are as handsome as the eldest."
Darcy objected. "Unless it came up in your conversation with Miss Bennet, how do you know where they live?"
"I have their address," Sophia offered. She always was a pest.
"You have not been introduced to the family. They might consider your arrival, even to do them a favor, as an imposition," Darcy persisted.
Gordon laughed. "Perhaps in your family, Darcy. I get the impression that the Bennets do not hold to formalities and will simply be pleased to have a gentleman such as myself call."
Sophia snorted delicately. "You think that everyone ought to be pleased to see you, Gordon. I wonder how you have managed to avoid the snares of the single and desperate year after year?"
"Only by imitating your example," he teased.
Darcy shifted his torso toward the door. “Are you going to flirt with each other all afternoon, or can we go about our business?” he asked tersely.
Gordon laughed, but Sophia did not. “How dare you say such a thing when you know that Gordon is like a brother to me— an annoying, overconfident brother, I might add. Besides, what is your grand hurry to Miss Elizabeth? She does not think well of you. I do not know your offenses against her, but I could not help but notice how she struggled to be polite in your company.”
Drat Wickham! First, he nearly ruined Georgiana, and then he took it upon himself to ruin any chance of friendship with an interesting lady by poisoning her against him. “A misunderstanding worsened her poor opinion of me,” Darcy said in his defense.
Of course, he had not done himself any favors by insulting her vanity aloud to Bingley on the night they first met. If he could go back in time…
“Really?” said Gordon, his fingers pinching his chin. “A single young lady with a mind strong enough to despise Mr. Darcy? I think I wasted my charm on the wrong sister.”
Dear Lord, no. Darcy gritted his teeth together. With Gordon hovering over them like a bothersome insect, Darcy would have little opportunity to set things right with Miss Elizabeth. He felt like he would burst with pent up frustration. Only a small dose of self-loathing held him in a relaxed posture. He could not continue in the same manner without proving Miss Elizabeth’s unflattering assessment of his character correct. He had to change.
Sophia harrumphed. Darcy wished she would stop staring at him. He did not need her to guess the workings of his mind before he had the chance to understand them himself. Why did he feel drawn to Miss Elizabeth? Was he only seeking to satisfy his pride by turning a foe into a friend, even… an admirer?
“Let us hope that Miss Elizabeth is not like you. Once your good opinion is lost, it is lost forever. If you seek to redeem yourself, she may very well despise you all the more for your efforts,” said Sophia, plunging a dagger into Darcy’s damaged ego.
Chapter 11
Elizabeth had to remove two cushions just to have a seat. “What is all of this?” she asked.
Lydia stopped pretending to play the pianoforte, jumped up from the bench, and twirled around the room with Kitty. Mary was nowhere to be found, but even if Elizabeth asked for her whereabouts, she would never get a straight answer until Mother had told her news.
“I will get to that shortly, but first, let me begin with the best news.” Mother rubbed her hands together and licked her lips— like a child standing before the window of a candy shop. Elizabeth met Jane’s eye, but her sister shook her head, equally ignorant to their mother’s activities.
Mother continued, “I went to Mrs. Robinson’s house for tea. She has a separate parlor where ladies can go to play cards and add to their pin money. It is all in good taste and many of the socially elite frequent her establishment. I met a charming lady, Mrs. Gordon, there today.”
Elizabeth knew where the conversation headed, and she did not like it. “Mrs. Robinson runs a gambling house?” Perhaps if she called it as it was, Mother’s conscience would bother her.
“If that is what you must name it, Lizzy, then so be it,” Mother huffed, crossing her arms. “It cannot be harmful so long as I win— and I won enough to turn out this room in a manner befitting our family without asking Mr. Bennet for a single penny. It was an innocent diversion, and I was pleased to meet many respected ladies of society who, for one reason or another, remained in town for the winter. I even heard talk about your new friend, Miss Kingsley.” She arched her eyebrow as if she had a juicy bit of gossip to tell.
“Does the room need so many chairs and tables? And what of the portraits and samplers on the walls? They are not ours,” said Elizabeth, her disgust rising the more Mother talked.
“What does it matter who did the paintings or embroidered the samplers? If a single gentleman of fortune were to presume that these are the accomplishments of my talented daughters, then who am I to correct him?”
Jane spoke out in her shock. “But, Mama, that is a lie. Would you have us marry a gentleman only to have him find out that we are not as accomplished as he believed us to be? I would rather study with a tutor and display my own work honestly than resort to trickery.”
Mother waved in the air like a cat batting at a fly. “We do not have time for such foolishness when we must prepare for the upcoming Season.”
"Where is Mary?" asked Elizabeth. She needed to change the subject before she burst from agitation.
Lydia, finally tiring of twirling, collapsed on a nearby fainting couch. "She left for the orphanage with Aunt Gardiner after you departed for your little card party. La, what a dreadful place to spend a day— surrounded by brats with snotty noses and dirty feet. I could never be convinced to do it."
Elizabeth scowled at her. "Perhaps it would do you good to think of others as Mary does. There is nothing wrong with wanting to alleviate the sufferings of those less fortunate than we are."
Lydia stuck her tongue out and reached for the bowl of fruit on the table in front of her.
"I suppose you will say that you are proud of her and that, of all of us, she is using our exalted circumstances for the betterment of humanity. I will shock you all when I am the first to marry and then we will see who is proud of whom," said Lydia, enunciating her statement by tossing the last of the orange peel she held back into the fruit bowl.
Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the appearance of Pigeon. "Mr. Gordon and Mr. Darcy are here to see you, miss," he said to her.
Her mouth, already open, gaped wider at his announcement.
With a stoic face, he continued, "They mentioned something about an earring, miss. Shall I allow them in?"
Mother answered for her, bustling about the room as she spoke. "Of course she will see them. Let them in, Pigeon." She arranged her daughters so that they might be seen to advantage. It was the same routine they had often performed at Longbourn, only this time there were no ribbons to hide behind pillows or strategic sitting on upholstery stains.
Elizabeth was so relieved that her treasured earring would be returned, she did not complain when Mother pinched
her cheeks and smoothed her hair.
Mr. Gordon waltzed into the room, his white teeth sparkling and his hair falling in perfectly careless curls over his broad forehead. Elizabeth heard her sisters, and even Mother, swoon.
Mr. Darcy, on the other hand, looked like a storm. What had brought the two gentlemen together to call on her? It was preposterous when a servant could have returned her earring just as easily. Or Miss Kingsley could have saved it for their next meeting. Of course, Elizabeth was pleased to have it returned so soon.
She introduced the rest of her family to Mr. Gordon, who enchanted them with his gorgeous looks and charming manners.
Mother remembered herself enough to say that she was pleased to see Mr. Darcy, but her words lacked their usual enthusiasm— especially after her rapturous greeting of Mr. Gordon.
Mr. Darcy looked as pleased to be there as Mother did to receive him. Why had he come? Elizabeth searched his face while Mr. Darcy glared at Mr. Gordon. Which one of the gentlemen had her earring?
Mother ordered tea to be brought in and insisted that they sit in the chairs nearest the warm fire, chattering without letup.
Mr. Gordon smiled, the dimple in his cheek deepening. "Thank you, Mrs. Bennet. You are very kind. It is so frightfully cold out, I would not be surprised to hear that the Thames has frozen over."
Lydia and Kitty clapped their hands. "Oh, I do hope it does! Then we shall go ice skating!" they declared, of the same mind.
Mr. Gordon gave a detailed account of the many diversions to be had at the Frost Fair— those rare occasions in town when the Thames froze into thick sheets of ice where the people gathered for a party that only ended when the ice melted. His words faded into the distance as Elizabeth inspected Mr. Darcy’s face. Did he have her earring? His collar jutted up to cut into his jaw. She watched the muscles at his temples tense, and before she thought to distract her lingering contemplation, he captured her with the intensity of his gaze.
