Page 8 of Count the Cost (The Secrets of Elizabeth Bennet #2)
E lizabeth watched Jane open the note from Netherfield. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Mama leaning forward, almost ready to snatch the sheet from her eldest daughter.
“Jane will read it out to us, won’t you, dearest?” Elizabeth hoped her mother would be patient.
“It is from Miss Bingley.” Jane’s mouth twisted slightly, and Elizabeth sighed with relief. Jane wasn’t taken in by that shrewish woman.
“Well, what does she say, girl?” Mama was as oblivious as always.
“She is inviting Lizzy and me to afternoon tea at Netherfield tomorrow. She says that she has a great desire to know more of the history of the house.”
“Why would she want that?” Mama stared blankly at the note, as if it might explain the hidden motives.
“She does not, to be sure, Mama.” Elizabeth smiled guilelessly. “She is writing at the behest of Mr. Bingley who had to think of a reason for inviting Jane — and me, to make it all proper.”
Mama looked slightly happier than she had. The gentlemen had not called at Longbourn for two days together and she had been distraught and angry by turns.
“Well, of course you should go! You write a reply, Jane — you have such a nice hand, it will be much admired.” She turned to Elizabeth.
“And, you, Lizzy, must go and ask your Papa for the coach.”
Elizabeth glanced at the clock. “I will, Mama. But as it is for tomorrow afternoon I will wait until I take him his cup of tea in half an hour. Then he will be inclined to agree more easily.”
“You are a good girl; you know how to put your father in a good mood.” Mama was trying to be more agreeable with her second daughter.
Elizabeth smiled. She was not proving cooperative with her mother’s attempts to throw her in the path of Mr. Darcy, despite the supper dance at the assembly and the fact that she had to walk with him when chaperoning Jane.
And it was certain that her mother would certainly be in a towering rage if she heard what Elizabeth would be saying to Jane in their rooms tonight.
But Elizabeth was determined. She would not leave Jane in ignorance of what life at Netherfield would be like if Miss Bingley remained living with her brother and his new wife. Jane must guard her heart.
The next day, Elizabeth deliberately wore her cobalt shawl. The weather was mild for October, and she would not need her pelisse as well. But she didn’t like to think too deeply why she had chosen it, even when Jane raised her eyebrows at the sight of it.
“Are you determined to draw attention to yourself, Lizzy? And to whom?”
Elizabeth reached into Jane’s closet. “I think you ought to wear yours as well.” She had brought Jane home a shawl in a pale periwinkle blue that was startlingly successful in making her sister’s eyes bluer and larger than ever. At least if they both wore theirs, she did not stand out so much.
Jane stood in the doorway, looking firm. “As I said; why are you determined to do this, sister?”
Elizabeth held out the shawl to Jane. “I told you last night. I will not have Miss Bingley feeling superior, or trying to make you feel less than you are.”
Jane shook her head. “I am sure she will not be as bad as you seem to think, Lizzy.” But she did accept the shawl.
As the Bennet sisters were announced into the drawing room at Netherfield, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy both rose to their feet, and Elizabeth saw Mr. Darcy’s gaze darken at the sight of her wearing the shawl and warmth unaccountably spread through her.
Then his gaze went to Jane, and his eyes widened.
Elizabeth hid a smirk. There was no denying that their shawls were of a quality rarely seen even among the wealthiest in society.
And for both she and Jane to be wearing them, when even one was too costly for all families bar the most wealthy, would discompose him.
She wondered how Miss Bingley would deal with the situation.
That lady was looking at them narrowly. “Still wearing shawls indoors?” Miss Bingley’s brows rose ever so slightly as she turned to the footman. “Surely you were instructed to take such burdens at the door?”
Elizabeth didn’t wait for Jane to speak, but stepped forward. “Your staff did offer to take our shawls, Miss Bingley.” She dropped a brief curtsy. “But we told them that we prefer to wear them. Although I thank you for your consideration.”
Bingley jumped into the following silence. “We are very pleased you have come, ladies.” He gave his usual extravagant bow and beckoned them forward.
They curtsied to the room in return and Jane gave her usual serene smile, thanked him and moved forward to the chair that he was indicating.
Mr. Darcy didn’t wait for Miss Bingley to stop seething but stepped forward. “Would you care to sit here, Miss Elizabeth?” He indicated a chair somewhat apart from Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, although still within conversation range.
“Thank you,” she murmured as he held the chair for her and took the seat between her and Miss Bingley.
Elizabeth needed to reconsider her impression of Mr. Darcy. After their conversation at the assembly, she was in no doubt of his opinion of his hostess, and yet he had taken a seat between her and Elizabeth. That must be intentional.
Her heart warmed a little. Was he trying to protect her?
Miss Bingley’s eyes were still alight with malice, but Elizabeth decided she needed no protection from her. Neither would she wait in an uncomfortable silence for her hostess to speak first.
“I thank you for inviting us to Netherfield, Miss Bingley.” She smiled guilelessly. “I do know something about the history of the estate, which is fortunate for you.”
There was a smothered sound from Mr. Darcy. Was he actually amused?
“Why would I want to know that?” Miss Bingley looked astonished.
“Because that is what your invitation letter yesterday said you wished to know.” Elizabeth smiled at her, knowing the woman could not tell a genuine smile from one that was insincere. “But if you wish to converse about any other subject, I am happy to follow your lead.”
Miss Bingley sniffed. However it was obvious that she did not wish to incur disapproval from Mr. Darcy, so she affected a more pleasant demeanour. “I understand, Miss Elizabeth, that you enjoy visiting your relations in town.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I do indeed. My aunt and uncle are kind and elegant people, and they have three children under the age of eight, so I very much enjoy staying there.”
“And whereabouts do they live?” Miss Bingley was obviously quite certain the address would not be respectable enough for Mr. Darcy. And so it wasn’t; but Elizabeth was determined that she didn’t care.
“They live on Gracechurch Street. They have a lovely big house, which Uncle purchased when he married.” She turned to Mr. Darcy. “My aunt was raised in the north, Mr. Darcy, so she was happy to have a relatively large garden in town where she can recreate her family garden from Derbyshire.”
He nodded politely. “A fine county. I expect your aunt misses the scenery, living in London.”
“Gracechurch Street, you said,” Miss Bingley interrupted. “Is that not near Cheapside?” Her lip curled at even saying the name.
“Not far,” Elizabeth kept her voice pleasant. “I am very happy when I am there.”
Mr. Darcy frowned, and Elizabeth knew he was thinking Cheapside? Costly shawls as gifts?
She needed to change the subject. “Of course, when I am there, we go to the theatre regularly. I expect you do as well, Miss Bingley. Tell me, do you prefer Shakespeare’s tragedies or comedies? I would guess that Mr. Darcy prefers the tragedies, whereas I dearly love to laugh at the comedies.”