Page 6 of Cads & Capers
CHAPTER FIVE
Back in March, while she was yet at Hunsford Parsonage, Elizabeth Bennet had been delighted to receive a letter from Jane explaining that Mr Bingley—having learnt of Jane’s presence in town by means that were unclear to anyone—had defied his family and friends and called on her at the Gardiners’ home
Pray forgive me, dear sister, for keeping it from you, but I could not easily understand what he meant by calling on me in Gracechurch Street. His own sister had been so very definite on the point of his disinterest, and I was very afraid to allow myself to hope.
The letter went on to say that Mr Bingley had proposed. Several paragraphs of Jane’s rapturous exclamations were included and made Elizabeth smile no matter how many times she read them. Given the timing of things, she wondered whether he had proposed on the very night of his friend’s ill-fated addresses to her. So, Mr Darcy did not , after all, ruin the happiness of a most beloved sister , she mused. But it was not for lack of trying . Mr Bingley’s will had prevailed.
Charles has gone to Hertfordshire to seek my father’s permission and has said that—if she would like it—he will bring my mother to London when he returns. Dear Lizzy, pray tell me you will return to London too? You know I am always in need of your help to stand up to her when we shop.
Elizabeth had found the notion of leaving Kent early a very agreeable one. Everywhere she turned was some recollection of Mr Darcy, and each recollection made her feel more and more ashamed of herself. She had been blind, partial, prejudiced, and absurd, happily surrendering to the lies of a man who flattered her and ignoring the goodness of the man who did not. Who would have imagined me so vain? She had hoped that the remembrances would not travel with her to London or, if they did, that the busyness of preparing for Jane’s wedding would make it impossible to ruminate over them.
Once ensconced at Gracechurch Street, Elizabeth did her best to put aside condemnation of herself and plunge into the arrangements for dear Jane. She was a carefully careless chaperon when Mr Bingley came to call, and listened with endless patience to her sister’s musings on love and her beloved when he was absent. Jane’s happiness was the finest antidote to the misery within her own heart.
She lived in fear of meeting Mr Darcy in London; her only consolation was that he would avoid her as assiduously as she must avoid him henceforth. Jane’s wedding did present some danger, for surely Mr Bingley would invite his friend to attend. She could only hope that Mr Darcy’s dislike of the neighbourhood would keep him away.
“Now Lizzy.” Mrs Bennet leant towards her second daughter in the carriage as they travelled back to Hertfordshire. “None of this running off into the fields when we get back. There is scarcely a fortnight! We must plan the breakfast, and arrange for…”
Elizabeth exchanged a small smile with Jane as her mother rattled away. More letters had gone between Gracechurch Street and Longbourn than either of them could have ever imagined, and she did not doubt that Hill had everything well in hand. Nevertheless, Mrs Bennet would go in and upend all the plans, insisting on the impossible and disregarding the probable. And Hill would be as wonderful as ever she was, simultaneously taking care of them all and soothing her mistress’s nerves.
“Mama!” Elizabeth cried with a little laugh some minutes later. “I do not intend to run off. I am well pleased to be by Jane’s side. Nothing less than perfection will do.”
“I should think not.” Mrs Bennet thudded back into the squabs with a sniff. “She is marrying a great man, you know.”
“I do know.” Elizabeth grasped her sister’s hand. “And he is marrying a perfect lady. Jane, have I told you how happy I am for you?”
Jane turned pink with pleasure and lowered her eyes. “Only ten times a day, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth squeezed her hand and let go. “Then make today’s count eleven. I am so very happy for you, dear sister.”
Even Mrs Bennet could think of no criticism in the face of such sisterly affection and only smiled. The congeniality among them lasted until the very moment they entered Longbourn’s door. Hill came to greet them and received an immediate flurry of instructions, through which she calmly removed pelisses and bonnets and sent their maid, Sarah, off to gather refreshments for them all.
“Yes, yes, ma’am,” Hill repeated over and over. “All will be well. ’Tis all in hand.”
Mr Bennet removed himself from his book-room and came to kiss his wife’s cheek and nod approvingly at his eldest daughters. “Well, Jane, Lizzy. Good to have you home again, even if Jane’s tenure is to be short.”
“Let us all sit,” Mrs Bennet announced, “and then we may acquaint you with all of our plans.”
“I daresay I am acquainted with them well enough,” said Mr Bennet with a twinkle in his eye. “The bills have preceded you, my dear, although I should imagine a painful lot remain to come.”
“Well,” said Mrs Bennet as she breezed through the vestibule on her way to the breakfast parlour, “Lizzy is intent on refusing offers of marriage, and Mary can scarcely be prevailed upon to dance with a fellow, much less marry one. We might as well extend ourselves for Jane!”
Elizabeth followed her sister and mother down the hall, thinking of what her mother would do if she had any idea of her refusing Mr Darcy.
It was not too much longer before they were enjoying an afternoon repast of cold meats and cheeses with bread and tea. Elizabeth longed to escape to the sanctuary of her bedchamber; alas, the rumbling of her stomach would not permit it.
Lydia entered the breakfast parlour in her customary high-spirited way, tossing herself into a chair and serving herself a generous slice of cake. “Such news, Mama! I could scarcely wait until you were home to tell you!”
Kitty entered behind her sister, subdued; her eyes were red-rimmed and her colour was high. She settled into the chair farthest from Lydia and said nothing, only looking sullen and put upon. Elizabeth groaned silently, wondering what argument had arisen between them now.
Mrs Bennet, busy buttering a piece of bread, asked without much concern, “What is it?”
Lydia sat straight, visibly preening as she announced, “Mrs Forster has invited me to Brighton as her particular friend. There will be balls and assemblies every night, and sea-bathing and card parties?—”
“She ought to have asked me!” Kitty interrupted indignantly.
“You are not her particular friend,” Lydia shot back immediately.
“Particular friend or not, I am two years older!” Kitty’s eyes had already begun to well up.
Elizabeth glanced at her father, expecting him to say that neither of them would go, no matter who was invited.
“You will let me go, will you not, Mama?” Lydia entreated. “Papa says I am too young, but Mrs Forster has promised to take good care of me.”
“Your sister’s wedding!” Mrs Bennet reminded her. “How would it look if you were to miss the breakfast? And only imagine what rich friends Bingley might have invited to attend. You would not wish to miss that!”
“But after the wedding, the regiment will be gone and we shall all be dull and miserable,” Lydia protested.
“Would you not take us all, Papa?” Kitty begged. “I do not think it fair that only Lydia should go.”
“With the money being spent on this wedding,” Mr Bennet replied drily, “I do not think I shall have enough remaining to get us farther than Watford.”
Elizabeth smiled at the joke, the only person at the table who did.
“It would hardly cost anything at all,” Lydia cajoled. “Lizzy, you will want to go most of all, especially when I tell you what I know about a certain person we all like.”
Elizabeth reached to help herself to more of the salad. “Who might that be?”
“There is no danger of Wickham’s marrying Mary King,” Lydia pronounced. “She is gone down to her uncle at Liverpool; gone to stay. Wickham is safe.”
“Perhaps it is Mary King who is safe,” Elizabeth observed mildly. “Safe from a connexion so imprudent as to fortune.”
“Who cares about that?” Lydia replied. “Why are you not happier? I know you liked him.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together. The story Mr Darcy had disclosed was not hers to share, much as she should like to warn her young sister away from such a scoundrel as Mr Wickham. Even Jane knew only that Mr Darcy had proposed and been refused; what came after was not relevant. Elizabeth had no wish to relate a tale that could only distress her. But Lydia—apparently anticipating that her sister would be delighted to find her old favourite free, and incredulous that she remained sedate—wanted some answers.
“I am far less inclined towards the gentleman than you might have imagined,” Elizabeth said eventually. “And in any case, what can it signify? He is gone to Bright?—”
“Not yet,” Kitty inserted. “He is part of the group that yet remains to break down the encampment.”
That was unlucky. Elizabeth had hoped he would not be a part of the neighbourhood activities, of which there were to be many. “Well, he will soon be gone, and that will be that.”
“Oh, enough about Mr Wickham! If that dreadful Mr Darcy had not denied him what he was owed, I should be very glad to see him married to any of you,” Mrs Bennet cried. “But so it is not. Now once Bingley is officially your brother…”
With that, she was set off on the well-worn subject of suitors for the rest of her daughters. Mrs Bennet was certain that Bingley would very obligingly settle them all with one or another of his friends, and perhaps he would—save for one.
Strange how that thought gave Elizabeth a tiny pang of something like regret.