“A good thing? To speak so cruelly?”
“Perhaps, should Mr. Bingley think on your words, he will see his error and mend his ways.”
Jane shook her head causing the pain to spike. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly. “Or he will flee to London, pleased he learned what a harpy I was before he committed himself.”
“A harpy? You?” Elizabeth laughed. “Oh, Jane. Even if the description fit you, you must realize he is accustomed to that behaviour. Miss Bingley resides in his home after all.”
She gathered the dishes and was about to pick up the tray when they heard footsteps and muttering on the stairs. A moment later the door burst open and Mrs. Bennet entered the room.
“Mr. Darcy is coming up the drive!” Her eyes travelled over her second daughter’s form. “Did I not tell you to change that dress? Oh, he is nearly here!”
“Mama, I sincerely doubt Mr. Darcy cares what dress I wear.” She picked up the tray, glancing Jane’s way with an exaggeratedly tortured expression, and turned toward the door. “I shall return this to the kitchen and join you in the drawing room.”
“Nonsense! Jane can do it.”
“Mama! She is ill!” Dismay filled Elizabeth’s countenance.
“Then one of the maids will come for it. You are needed at once!” Mrs. Bennet began unlacing Elizabeth’s dress even though she still held the tea things.
The tray found a safe resting place just before Elizabeth’s dress fell to the floor and another was drawn from the wardrobe and dropped over her head. The neckline on the new garment was lower and much too revealing for a November morning, but Mrs. Bennet did not seem to notice. Indeed, she pushed and pulled Elizabeth into the gown until she was displayed to her full advantage. A warm blush covered Elizabeth’s cheeks as she glanced toward her sister.
Jane smiled at Elizabeth reassuringly until she realized Mrs. Bennet’s attention had turned her way. She refused to meet her mother’s gaze and the lady returned to her second daughter. Jane was thankful as she was in no temper to listen to her mother’s demands this morning.
“I suppose that will do.” The frown creasing Mrs. Bennet’s brow could be heard in her tone. “You must have new dresses.”
A moment later, the door clicked shut behind the ladies and Jane heard their footsteps rapidly descending the stairs. She released a sigh of relief as she slipped back down under the bed clothes.
Elizabeth had opened the curtain so the sunlight fell against the far wall, but left the bed in shadow. The room was bright enough without causing Jane additional discomfort. She took up the cloth and laid it back across her eyes, hoping to get some additional sleep.
Jane lay there, listening to the distant sound of voices and wondering what was being said below until her eyes grew heavy. Before she was able to drift off to sleep though, the door opened slowly. Jane lifted the cloth to see Mrs. Hill looking down at her.
“Are you feeling any better, Miss?” The housekeeper’s voice was soft and concerned, unlike her mother’s which was loud and piercing.
“I believe so,” Jane replied with a weak smile.
Mrs. Hill sat in the chair beside the bed and took up the cloth. She dipped it into the bowl of cool water and wrung it out before reapplying it to Jane’s forehead.
“Mr. Bingley is downstairs.”
Jane frowned.
“No one is expecting you to go below, but I thought you should know. I heard them say he delayed his trip to London so he could stop at Longbourn first.”
She could think of no reason for Mr. Bingley to come. Surely they had said more than enough to each other at the ball.
“I believe he is currently speaking to Mr. Bennet.”
Jane’s eyes opened wider. “Why?”
“I suppose you will have to ask them.” Mrs. Hill stood and took up the tray. “Will you be well enough to come downstairs for tea this afternoon, Miss?”
Her mind ran in circles trying to determine the reason for Mr. Bingley’s visit, so she nearly missed the housekeeper’s question. When she saw the older woman looking at her quizzically, she replied. “I believe so.”
Mrs. Hill gave a brief nod and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her; but Jane was already lost in thought and did not see her go. She remained this way until Elizabeth entered the room sometime later.
“Are you feeling better, Jane?” she asked after tiptoeing into the room and seeing her sister awake.
“I believe I am, but I am puzzled, Lizzy. Mrs. Hill said Mr. Bingley had come.” She sat up and held her sister’s gaze as she waited for an explanation.
Elizabeth nodded slowly. “Mr. Darcy must now go to London to make arrangements for the settlement. He asked Mr. Bingley to delay his journey so they could travel together. They left directly after their visit.”
A sinking sensation entered Jane’s bosom. “Oh.” She realized he had no desire to see her, he had simply been obliging his friend.
“He asked how you were feeling this morning.”
“Did you tell him I felt like a fool?” Jane rolled to her side, clutching her pillow.
“It was clear he was not at his best. I asked Mrs. Hill to prepare some of your tea for him.”
Jane glanced over her shoulder. “He appeared ill?”
Elizabeth’s smile tugged at her lips, but was a bit restrained. “I believe you both suffer from the same affliction.”
Closing her eyes, Jane thought of the previous evening. From the time she returned to the ball until they left, Mr. Bingley had constantly been seen with glass in hand. Indeed, he had appeared a bit unsteady when he handed her into the carriage.
“You believe he overindulged?”
“I believe he attempted to drown his disappointments.” Elizabeth straightened the counterpane without meeting her sister’s gaze.
“Mrs. Hill said Mr. Bingley spoke to Papa.”
Her sister nodded once more but said nothing.
“Do you know what was said?” Jane asked
“I suppose you will have to ask him or Papa.” Again, Elizabeth appeared to be hiding her mirth, but a moment later it was gone. “Are you able to join us below or shall we remain here today?”
Jane took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I suppose I cannot hide away forever. The Lucases will surely come this afternoon. I did not have an opportunity to speak to Charlotte last evening.”
“Perhaps the three of us can go to the stillroom. Charlotte asked if we had any lavender remaining. It will be quieter there.”
And away from Mrs. Bennet and Lady Lucas. Jane looked at her sister. Elizabeth had returned to her normal cheery disposition. She had crossed to the wardrobe and was selecting a warm, comfortable dress for each of them.
Jane sat up to help remove the impractical gown her mother had forced upon her sister. A few minutes later, Jane was sitting before the mirror while Elizabeth brushed her hair, being careful not to tug too hard. Using as few pins as possible, she piled Jane’s hair in a manner that did not sit heavily upon her tender head.
The knocker sounded as they were coming down the stairs and they greeted the Lucas ladies in the hallway. Jane, Elizabeth, and Charlotte made their excuses and escaped to the stillroom as Mrs. Bennet’s exclamations began. Jane was thankful for the reprieve as her headache still lingered.
“We saw Mr. Bingley’s carriage on the road,” Charlotte said as they looked over the dried flowers.
“Yes, he and Mr. Darcy are travelling to London together. They stopped to speak to Papa before they left,” Elizabeth responded as she selected the largest clusters.
“Just Mr. Bennet?” Charlotte’s brow rose.
Elizabeth blushed.
“May I tell you how proud I am of you, Eliza? You saw Mr. Darcy’s worth and did not act foolishly.”
Jane’s jaw dropped. “Charlotte, I am shocked that you would be so mercenary.”
“No, Jane, you misunderstand me. I was not only speaking of his fortune, but his worth as a man.” Charlot
te turned toward Elizabeth and smiled. “Eliza and I had spoken before regarding it and I feared she would refuse him in favour of another.”
Her sister’s complexion reddened further. “I pray you do not mention it again, Charlotte. I was quite foolish. Mr. Darcy told me of his dealings with Mr. Wickham. Now I have only to be ashamed of what my feelings had once been.”
Jane and Charlotte sat silently while Elizabeth told them the true story of Mr. Wickham’s inheritance and how he surrendered all claim on the living in the church in order to receive monetary recompense. Jane was saddened to hear of Mr. Wickham’s propensities and voiced her hope that he was sorry for what he had done and anxious to re-establish a character. Charlotte and Elizabeth exchanged a doubtful glance, but added their desire that it should be so.
“And what of Mr. Bingley, Jane? Did you have a moment to speak before he was forced to leave?” Charlotte’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
“I was still abed when they visited.” Jane began returning the unused flowers to their places, while she avoided meeting the others’ eyes.
“Mr. Bingley asked after her, then went to speak to Papa,” Elizabeth offered.
Before more could be said, raised voices could be heard from the front of the house. The ladies exchanged worried glances before Jane peeked out the door to see what was occurring. From her position, she was unable to see the entire hallway, but could make out red coats by the main entranceway.
“Papa, it is unfair!” Lydia’s cry carried the length of the house and surely to every nook on each level.
“You must forgive my daughter, gentlemen. I believe she has been taken from the nursery before her time. My wife and daughters are at home to only female callers this afternoon. Please inform Colonel Forster I will be visiting him in the next day or two.”
Mr. Bennet’s voice sounded jovial, but Jane heard the underlying tension. She waited until the front door closed, Kitty and Lydia stomped up the stairs, and the book room door latched.
“What is it, Jane?” Elizabeth asked, as she stepped closer.
“It appears Papa has sent the officers away.” Suddenly, she was overcome with curiosity. “Will you excuse me?” she stated more than asked and ventured out into the hall.
Stepping lightly, she moved quickly down the hall until she stood before the door to her father’s domain. She squared her shoulders and knocked. Her father’s voice sounded weary when he called for her to enter.
“Ah, Jane. Are you feeling better, my child?” He gave her a warm smile and she immediately succumbed to the onslaught of emotions from the previous day.
“Oh Papa,” she cried and rushed into his arms.
He stood to catch her and rocked her gently as she released all her fears and disappointments. When her sobs became sniffs, he handed her a handkerchief and walked her to the closest settee.
“I suspect that was overdue.” His brow rose in a similar manner to Elizabeth’s and Jane could not hide her smile. “There is much that has transpired and I fear you have borne the force of it.”
“Lizzy told me you are not ill.” She laid her head upon his shoulder as she did when little and seeking comfort.
“I am not ill. The letter your mother found was from a university friend. I had not given him any names, only the individual’s symptoms.”
“Is it Old Mr. Henry?”
“Why would you think so?” He leaned back so Jane was forced to sit up.
She shrugged her shoulders.
“No, Old Henry will probably outlive us all. Do not fret, my child. It is none at Longbourn.” He brushed a hair from her cheek. “I am more concerned for you. I must say, I hardly recognized you last evening.”
Her cheeks burned and, once again, she was unable to meet his gaze. “I have apologized to Lizzy. I know not what came over me. I was so … angered.”
“But it was not all directed toward your sister, was it?”
Jane shook her head. “I fear it was directed toward nearly everyone. Oh, Papa, even toward you.”
“Of course. You thought I had not prepared sufficiently, and you were right to feel that way.”
“But we are to honour our mother and father …”
“That does not mean you do not see their foolishness.” He took a deep breath and released it. “Your mother did what she thought was best for you because she knew I would not take immediate action. Was it the wisest course? No. But her love for you and your sisters overruled her good sense.”
Jane eyed him suspiciously.
“Yes, Jane, I am aware that your mother has her moments of acumen. I have not given her credit where it is due.” He patted her hand. “You would be surprised to learn that your mother is quite thrifty. Indeed, when you all were quite young, she was able to limit spending and save, as she knew there were things which would be needed once you reached a marriageable age. I suspect she has yet to spend this year’s pin money.”
Her jaw fell open, surprised to hear her father praise her mother. “But you always say how silly she is.”
“And so I saw her as being such, in regards to men and marriage. I understand now that I allowed her to carry the weight of your futures instead of taking an active interest myself.” His eyes brushed over her countenance as if seeking some unknown sign. “You are the eldest, Jane. What is it you desire? Do you wish to marry Mr. Bingley?”
Jane sighed. “I no longer know, Papa.”
He frowned. “Do you have no feelings for the man?”
Tears filled her eyes. “After the way I behaved, I doubt it matters.”
“Of course it matters, Janie.” He patted her hand once more. “Mr. Bingley has gone to London, but he assures me he will return.” He cradled her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You must determine how you will receive him when he does.”
“Mama will expect me to encourage him.” Her tone was flat and accepting.
“Most likely, but she is not you. Your mother has been instructed not to speak of marriages to anyone but Lizzy; and then she is to follow your sister and Mr. Darcy’s wishes.” A glint entered his eye. “I fear her inclination toward grandeur will not be met.”
“Mama is not to speak of marriages?” She looked at him incredulously, her tone filled with doubt.
Mr. Bennet appeared smug as he shook his head.
“However …?”
He patted her hand one last time and stood. “I have my ways, Jane. You and Lizzy will be pleased to hear I mean to employ them.” He crossed to his desk and sat, obviously dismissing her.
Jane started toward the door, but turned back and placed a kiss upon his cheek. “Thank you, Papa.”
Mr. Bennet smiled, but waved her away, so she left the room.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The carriage rolled through the countryside, no different from any other journey, except the occupants within seemed to have exchanged personalities. The autumn had been mild, but ruts still occurred here and there in the road. Though the carriage driver was competent, some could not be avoided. Bingley’s head bounced against the window frame and an oath issued from his lips. Darcy swallowed his amusement before handing his friend a cushion.
“Perhaps this will do?”
The normally amiable gentleman accepted it, but uttered not a word. He placed the squab against the glass and leaned against it.
Silence filled the equipage and Darcy thought Bingley might have drifted off to sleep. He opened his lap desk and drew out the notes he had jotted down the previous night when he was unable to sleep. As he perused the items he wished to include in the marriage settlement, he heard a gruff sigh. A moment passed before Bingley spoke.
“How does it feel?”
Darcy raised his eyes and found Bingley staring at him. The look was not cruel, though his words had a bitter tinge.
“Of what do you speak?”
With an effort, Bingley sat up allowing the cushion to fall to the floor neglected. “Having women desire you? Being accepted wherever you go? Being sou
ght after for your opinion and company?”
A harsh laugh escaped Darcy’s lips. “Do you not mean having women desire my fortune and station? Being tolerated for my connections? Indeed, I believe you are more sought out for company than I.”
“Perhaps.” Bingley picked some lint from his trouser leg. “But only for an evening; a dance. When searching for a husband, their eyes turn to you.”
Darcy set his papers aside and leaned back to observe his friend. “Have I told you of my encounter with Miss Bennet last evening?”
Bingley frowned.
“She had escaped the ballroom and was sitting on the balcony. Her distress was obvious, but not her state of … mind.” Darcy pursed his lips as he considered his words. “In hindsight, I would say she was struggling with her desires being in opposition to her mother’s directions.”
“That is not what I observed.”
Not wishing to pry but curious regarding the change which had overcome his friend, Darcy leaned forward. “I understand if you do not wish to speak of it, but I am unable to imagine what transpired to create such animosity in you.”
A look of uncertainty travelled over Bingley’s countenance. He turned to gaze out the far window. “Miss Bennet rebuffed me. She questioned my affection for her and declared me inconsistent.”
“I see.”
Bingley’s head turned swiftly to study his friend. “Do you? And do you agree?”
“It is not my place …”
“No, I am asking, as a friend. Darcy, have I been inconsistent? Do I allow Caroline to rule me?”
Eyes widening, Darcy was uncertain how to answer his friend. But answer he must, as Bingley stared at him expectantly. He took a deep breath and prayed for wisdom before opening his mouth.
“I would not say she rules you …”
“Of course she does not!” Bingley agreed in a reassured tone.
“But I would not allow my sister to treat guests as rudely as Miss Bingley does. She walks a thin line between courteous and disrespectful.”
“Caroline has always been thus.” Bingley shrugged.
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