by Jann Rowland
The only blight on the evening was the behavior of her dearest sister, Jane. While all three Bennet daughters had always been close, Jane and Elizabeth had shared a relationship which was profound. Mary, who might have felt excluded by their close friendship, had always looked on their relationship with fondness but no envy. In every way that counted, they were the closest of sisters, and both Jane and Elizabeth made every attempt to include their youngest in everything.
As such, Jane’s behavior that evening was concerning to Elizabeth, for she knew not how to interpret it. Anyone watching from the outside would have seen nothing amiss—Jane was eager to greet her sister and welcome her home, eager to be in her company as ever. But to one who formed half of the pair, Elizabeth could see little signs that her sister’s behavior was not quite what she might have expected. She was hesitant, careful in Elizabeth’s company, as if she had some great weight settled on her shoulders. Elizabeth looked at her sister askance more than once, but Jane affected contentment, pretending not to see Elizabeth’s curiosity.
The next morning the party broke their fasts together after which the Gardiners departed for their home. Returned, as they were, to their usual family party, Elizabeth lost no time in confronting her sister. As typical for Jane when they were alone, she sighed and confessed something was bothering her. Elizabeth could not imagine what it was until her sister confided in her.
“It is only that I have received some troubling news which I know will be of distress to you.”
“Then you had best share it!” exclaimed Elizabeth. “While I know of nothing which would cause my beloved sister such pause, I know it must be serious, for I have rarely seen you in such a state.”
“When we visited Netherfield the other day,” said Jane, “I learned that they will receive a visitor after the wedding. A visitor whom I know you will wish to avoid.”
For a moment Elizabeth was at a loss to understand Jane’s meaning. Then the memory of seeing Mr. Darcy once again after four years, coupled with the memory of that night on the balcony of the assembly halls, flooded into her mind. Elizabeth felt her color rise, and she looked away, contemplating the utter irony that she would escape meeting him at his estate, only to have his company thrust upon her mere weeks later.
“Are you well, Lizzy?”
Jane’s panicked voice reached Elizabeth’s ears, and she pushed her confusion away. “I am quite well, Jane,” said Elizabeth, catching her sister’s hands up in hers and resting them between Jane and herself on the mattress on which they sat. “Why should you think I care one way or another whom the Bingleys invite to stay with them?”
“Oh, Lizzy!” said Jane, shaking her head. “Your reaction to this news betrays you, Sister dearest.”
“I was confused for a moment,” confessed Elizabeth. “But truly, I do not know why I should concern myself over Mr. Darcy’s coming. The more I think of that matter, the more I believe there is nothing about which to worry myself. If Mr. Darcy had truly meant any harm to me, he could have returned at any time to do as he wished. That it has been four years with no sign of him suggests I am nothing to him but a diversion.”
“Lizzy,” said Jane, her tone slightly censorious, “I think I know you well enough to recognize your obfuscation quite well.”
“I am in earnest, Jane!”
“Yes, I dare say you are,” replied her sister. “As it is a subject we canvassed often after the event, you are aware that I do not think you to be in any danger from Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth nodded. “While I know you think me simple for attributing it to misunderstanding, I cannot but think there may be something more to Mr. Darcy’s action than you are suggesting. He never appeared the rake when he was here.”
“Not where anyone but me could witness it,” muttered Elizabeth.
“Be that as it may,” continued Jane, as if Elizabeth had not spoken, “I am still wary of the man and would not have my sister hurt by him.”
“Thank you, Jane,” said Elizabeth. “I do not intend to put myself in the position of being hurt by Mr. Darcy. Whatever he may do, I care not, for I mean to avoid him. The less consequence and notice I give him, the better I will feel.”
“And your scruples do you credit. But, Lizzy, I wish you to consider something you may not have.” Elizabeth’s nod was sufficient for Jane to continue. “With Mr. Darcy’s return to the neighborhood, I am concerned for your wellbeing. I know you preferred not to speak to my father of this matter, but I would ask you to reconsider. If Mr. Darcy is a threat, should Papa not be informed so he can better protect you?”
“My reasons for keeping this from Papa are still valid, Jane.”
“You cannot think to take this all on your own shoulders.” It was not often that Jane became frustrated, but her tone indicated it, nonetheless. “And surely you do not think Papa would force you to marry him.”
“Nor did I think he would after the event,” replied Elizabeth.
“He would never do that,” agreed Jane. “Unless, of course, there was some consequence to your reputation which, of course, there is not. Now that Mama is no longer with us, the threat of her saying something imprudent has been removed. Do you not think it is time to inform Papa and allow him and our brother to perform their duty by protecting you?”
It was a powerful argument, and for a moment Elizabeth felt herself wavering. But there were other matters to consider. Elizabeth thought her state of mind or wellbeing would remain uncompromised by Mr. Darcy’s coming and the thought of what would ensue—particularly by her brother, who would be quite upset—stayed her hand. There was no reason to suppose Mr. Darcy meant her harm and every reason to believe he would pay her no mind whatsoever. As such, Elizabeth could not bear the thought of the tumult which must result from such a confession.
“I understand your reasons for wishing to tell Papa, Jane. But I am convinced it is not necessary. There is little to be gained from such an action. What would Papa do? Demand Mr. Bingley put Mr. Darcy from his home and never allow him entrance again?”
“Of course not, Lizzy. But he could ensure your protection.”
“If there was some danger, I might agree. But I am convinced there is not. Four years absence between visits supports my theory. No, Jane, I have no desire to provoke such a scene when I am convinced it is unnecessary.”
Jane appeared hesitant as if she were considering arguing the matter further. So Elizabeth played her trump card.
“Please, Jane—you promised to keep my confidence. I simply wish to forget about it. There is nothing to fear from Mr. Darcy’s coming.”
A long look was Jane’s response, after which she grimaced and nodded. “Very well. But heed me well, Lizzy—if I think there is some danger which you will not acknowledge, I shall not hesitate to act in your defense.”
Feeling a little choked up by her sister’s support, Elizabeth threw herself into Jane’s arms, accepting the caress of Jane’s hand on her back, the love of an elder sister. She had been so blessed—Elizabeth did not know what she would have done without Jane’s support.
As might have been expected, later the day after Elizabeth’s return saw a pair of visitors descend upon Longbourn. While it might be reasonable to suppose they came to see her, given her recent return, it was also evident that at least one of the ladies came to see someone else in particular. Thomas certainly did not seem to mind the presence of his fiancée in the slightest though much of her attention was on Elizabeth. The other visitor was Charlotte Lucas.
It was an interesting dichotomy among the four ladies, thought Elizabeth as she greeted her friends with unfeigned enthusiasm. Jane and Caroline, being of age, had always been the particular friend of the other, perhaps because it had long been assumed that each would marry the other’s brother. Charlotte had always been Elizabeth’s friend first and foremost, though each of the sisters was quite friendly with the other’s friend, and Charlotte and Caroline had always been pleasant to each other. Elizabeth and Charlot
te were younger and older than the other two ladies respectively, Elizabeth still being twenty, while Charlotte was four and twenty. With Mary, Thomas, and Mr. Bingley in attendance that morning, the ladies renewed their friendship.
“I see you have been returned to us in good order,” said Caroline as they sat down to visit. “No beaux have snapped you up while you were visiting the north?”
“Unfortunately not, Caroline,” replied Elizabeth with a laugh. “It seems you must endure my presence in your new home, at least for a little while.”
“It is of no matter,” said Caroline with an airy wave. “The responsibility to see you safely married must now rest with me. I believe myself quite equal to the task.”
“Elizabeth does not need a reincarnation of our mother,” said Mary with a roll of her eyes once the laughter had ceased. It was an ongoing joke with Caroline that once she became the mistress of the estate that she would take on their departed mother’s role of matchmaker and see them married.
“No, I dare say she does not,” said Charlotte. “I am quite confident in her ability to attract a man without any interference at all.”
“This presupposes I actually wish to attract a man,” said Elizabeth. On one hand she was amused. On the other, the joke was old and had become tiresome.
“Very well,” replied Caroline, holding her hands up. “It seems you are not to be teased. The subject shall be raised at some time or another, so I shall let it rest at present. Let me just say that I am glad of your return, Elizabeth. It would not have been the same had you not come back in time.”
“There was never any question of it,” replied Elizabeth with genuine warmth. “Missing my brother’s wedding was not to be considered.”
“As I informed you, Caroline,” said Thomas in a manner which suggested his affection for the woman.
For some time, the company devolved into smaller conversations among themselves, Caroline with Jane as was to be expected, while Charlotte sat close to Elizabeth, with Mary in attendance. They were much more similar in temperament than the others, though Elizabeth was forced to acknowledge that regardless of Jane and Caroline’s dissimilarity, their friendship was just as close.
“Can you tell me of the places you saw, Lizzy?” asked Charlotte.
And so they spoke of Elizabeth’s tour. But Elizabeth avoided the mention of Pemberley, the same as she had the previous evening. While the man himself might be coming to interrupt her serenity and invade her peace of mind, Elizabeth did not wish to give anyone any hint of the discomposure she had experienced while visiting the place.
“You are very fortunate,” said Charlotte after they had spoken for some minutes. “I should like to tour those places you have seen. But my father has not the means for such frivolities and is content with Meryton and his occasional excursions to St. James’s Court.”
Elizabeth shared a wry smile with Charlotte—her father’s knighthood and admittance to that exalted company was one of his favorite topics. The man was too busy being civil to all to contemplate anything beyond his immediate purview. Elizabeth suspected Charlotte was completely correct—there would be little chance of her ever seeing such sights.
“Perhaps not,” replied Elizabeth, feeling the need to reassure her friend. “But I suspect one way or another, you will be allowed to become acquainted with such sights, even if it is only a passing acquaintance. If nothing else, perhaps you and I may tour them sometime by ourselves.”
“That would be lovely, Lizzy,” replied Charlotte. “But I shall not hope, lest I be disappointed should it not come to fruition.”
At that point, Caroline commandeered their attention again, and the conversation turned to general topics. After some little time, Caroline brought it around to that which she had originally meant to take it, in Elizabeth’s opinion. Unfortunately, it was not one she would find palatable.
“As you know, we shall be gone for some weeks after we are married. I shall count on hearing from you, Jane, of certain events which shall take place while we are absent.”
“Perhaps Elizabeth can be counted on as well,” said Thomas with a grin for his sister. “My father, unfortunately, is not a great letter writer. He avoids it at the best of times.”
“I should think it unlikely there will be much to discuss,” said Charlotte. “Meryton is not exactly an area of great excitement, after all. My father has informed us that a company of militia are to quarter here for the winter, but I do not believe they are to arrive until after you return.”
“That is because you are not aware of the impending addition to our party here.” Caroline paused for dramatic effect, and Elizabeth knew at once what she would say, the sly glance at Elizabeth telling her all she needed to know about the woman’s reasons for speaking in such a way. “My brother, you see, has asked Mr. Darcy to visit, and the gentleman has accepted. He will arrive after we leave and will likely stay until after we have returned.”
“If you ask me,” said Mary sotto voce, “it is fortunate that Caroline will already be married to my brother before the gentleman comes, given her behavior the last time he was here.”
Elizabeth snickered while Charlotte and Thomas laughed outright. Pleased that her sister had diverted Caroline’s tease so effortlessly, she reached out and squeezed Mary’s hand in thanks.
“You were not at the assembly—the first your sister ever attended, I might add.” Caroline smirked at Mary and then winked at Elizabeth. “I rather thought the gentleman was quite interested in your sister, for he danced with her, you know.”
“I seem to recall that he stood up with you, too,” replied Charlotte.
“He had a duty to his host’s daughter,” insisted Caroline. “To me, he was all politeness. In his eyes when he looked at your sister, I am certain I saw the true light of admiration.”
“For a girl of sixteen?” demanded Elizabeth, feeling a little uncomfortable at her future sister’s continued teasing. “Of course, any man of his age would feel nothing but infatuation for a young, awkward girl, just out in society.”
“You have never been merely an awkward girl,” said Caroline. Everything in her tone suggested she was entirely sincere in her praise. “Even as a young girl, you sparkled, Lizzy. If you decided to turn your attention on him, I have no doubt you would charm him utterly.”
“Thank you, Caroline,” said Elizabeth, feeling equal parts vexed and pleased. “But you forget I may not be amenable to it.”
“That is why it is my role to act in your interest.” Caroline’s grin told Elizabeth she was at least partially jesting. “If you will be so unnatural as to refuse.”
“I must inform you, my dear future sister,” said Elizabeth, “that you are in very great danger of being as disagreeable to me as when you called me an ‘insufferable bluestocking in the making’ when I was ten! Cease this talk, I beg of you!”
Caroline’s laughter was echoed by their companions, and with evident affection, she reached out and clasped Elizabeth’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Then I shall be silent, though I am surprised you remembered that. I had quite forgotten it myself!”
“We Bennets do not forget such slights,” was Elizabeth’s arch reply. “You should remember that, if you wish to join this family.”
“Then I will take care to remember.”
At that moment Jane, who had seemed somewhat uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, changed the subject, asking Caroline some question of the arrangements for the upcoming wedding. Thus diverted, Caroline allowed herself to speak on that subject at great length. Elizabeth nodded at her sister in thanks. Jane truly was the best of sisters.
Chapter V
“It is good you have returned, Elizabeth. The wedding would not have been the same if you had remained absent.”
Elizabeth smiled warmly at the Bingley matron. “It was never my intention to stay away when my brother married your daughter, Mrs. Bingley. My tour of the north with my relations was plann
ed specifically to ensure we were able to return in plenty of time.”
“Excellent, my dear! I hope you have come today prepared to assist, for there is still much to be done for the upcoming wedding breakfast.”
As it happened, that was precisely the reason why Elizabeth, along with her sisters, had presented themselves at Netherfield that day, and with a nod of her head, she set to it with a will. Most of the details, those concerning lace and flowers, decorations and other such fripperies Mrs. Bingley thought necessary, might have escaped Elizabeth’s notice, had the planning been her responsibility. With her singular interests, Elizabeth had always known she was unlike most other young ladies of her age. But her education common to most young ladies essential to their future had not been neglected, and in such cases as these she was willing to learn, viewing this as an education she may someday be able to put to good use. The thought she would likely never marry whispered in the back of Elizabeth’s mind, but she put it aside in favor of her present activities.
Mrs. Bingley was, in essentials, quite similar to Elizabeth’s late mother. The two ladies had always been close, two peas in a pod, as it were, and while Mrs. Bennet had tended toward silliness and gossip, Mrs. Bingley was her pair in every way, though perhaps not so pronounced. When the Bennet matron had passed, Mrs. Bingley, while not donning mourning attire, had still given her late friend every honor in her power to give, not hosting dinners or other events for the time the Bennet sisters had been in mourning, often speaking her feelings of how much she had missed her friend.
As a result, she had taken on the Bennet sisters as her own daughters, providing for them a sort of surrogacy for the mother they had lost. All three girls loved her, for she was a good woman, if a little trying at times. She quite looked on the wedding of her daughter to Longbourn’s heir as a feather in her cap, the second feather being, of course, the future expected marriage between Longbourn’s eldest daughter and her own son. But the younger girls were not forgotten.
