Page 37 of Elizabeth in Scotland (Elizabeth and Darcy Abroad #2)

Jane looked at her. For a fleeting moment, Elizabeth could have sworn there was a hardness in her eyes.

As soon as she blinked, it was gone, and Jane’s face bore the gentle expression she had so often seen there.

Elizabeth bit her lip, wondering. Surely she had not really seen what she thought she had seen. It was only a misunderstanding.

“I am not the only lady worthy of Mr Bingley’s regard,” Jane said delicately. “But I must confess that he has the most pleasing manners of any gentleman I have ever met.” She folded her hands demurely in her lap. “I would be pleased to be proposed to by such a man.”

“And to accept such a man. He has five thousand pounds a year!” their mother exclaimed.

“Did you meet any handsome gentlemen on your trip, Lizzy?” Lydia asked, turning the attention away from Jane. Elizabeth took a deep breath, still unnerved by the changes in her older sister. She tried to focus on the question at hand.

“Well, we mostly stayed at the estate, and when we had occasion to go to the village, we mostly stayed to ourselves.” She tried to conceal her feelings before she spoke of Mr Darcy. “The only men of our social status were Mr Campbell and Mr Darcy.”

“Mr Darcy? He was the other potential heir, was he not?” Lydia asked, screwing up her nose. “Was he very angry when you and Papa won the house?”

“No, he was most gracious,” Elizabeth said. Thankfully, Lydia asked no more about Mr Darcy, but only exclaimed that it sounded very dull indeed and that she was glad she had stayed behind to meet the officers of the militia.

Elizabeth was glad when luncheon was over and she could think privately at last. Mr Darcy was indeed very handsome.

Of course, she would never have mentioned any such thing in front of her mother, not if she ever wanted to have a moment of peace again.

It could only have raised unfounded hopes, likely to come to nothing.

She hurried out of the dining room and found Jane at the end of the hall, at the point of going upstairs to her room. “Jane!” Elizabeth said breathlessly. “Jane, may we talk for a moment?”

Jane narrowed her eyes at her. “What is it? I had intended to work on my embroidery,” she said flatly.

Elizabeth pleaded with her as she started up the first few steps. “Please, Jane. Let us go for a short walk so we can talk.”

Her sister thought for a moment and finally relented. “Very well,” she sighed.

They walked out to the garden and wandered among the flowers while Elizabeth got up the courage to ask what she had been burning to know since the first few weeks had passed in Scotland, when it had become impossible to ignore the absence of a letter from Jane.

When she had the first inklings that something had gone horribly wrong.

“Is there something amiss, Jane? I feel there has been a terrible break between us.”

Jane was quiet for a long while, stewing in her own thoughts. Suddenly she halted and turned on her. “Yes, there is. And I wonder that it took you so long to ask. I am furious with you, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth was shocked, but her sister did not give her a chance to say anything more before her venom came spewing out.

“First, I resent very much that you — the second born — were asked to go to Scotland instead of me. Second, that you left me to manage our mother’s nerves and watch over the younger girls all alone. You cannot know what a trial these last months have been.”

She felt as if she had been slapped. Hardly knowing what to say, Elizabeth attempted an apology. “I did not know you wanted to go to Scotland, Jane. Believe me —”

Her sister gave a derisive laugh. “Your apology means nothing now that it cannot be helped. And there is more, you know there is.” She stood with her hands on her hips, looking more furious than Elizabeth had ever seen her. “To think you suggested a man for Mary before you thought of me?”

Elizabeth’s mouth hung open in shock, for she could not have imagined Jane objecting to such a thing.

She grasped desperately for an explanation where she had never imagined that any could be required.

“I suggested Mary and Mr Campbell might suit because of the similarity in their temperaments and interests,” she exclaimed.

“Much as I respect Mr Campbell, I do not think you would be happy with him at all. Besides, were you not considering Mr Bingley? From the little I have heard, he seems ideal to secure your happiness.”

Jane stomped her dainty foot and uttered a frustrated gasp. She then stormed off back to the house and slammed the door.

In her astonishment, Elizabeth had not the least notion of what she ought to do.

Finally jarring herself into movement, she began to walk through the flower garden again.

Perhaps their beauty might soothe her astonished, anguished heart.

Never in her life had Jane spoken to her with such anger.

Was it better or worse that she could hardly understand the cause?

She was at least spared the bitterest pains of self-reproach, and yet it cut Elizabeth to the quick to feel that she could not understand or respect her sister’s actions.

Perhaps Jane’s anger was only temporary.

Or was this a side of Jane she had never seen before?

All this time, she had thought she knew her sister.

But it seemed she had never really known her at all.

At last, for it seemed there was nothing else to be done, Elizabeth returned to the house.

∞∞∞

The following day, Elizabeth received a visit from her friend and neighbour, Miss Charlotte Lucas.

They hugged as Charlotte came up the garden path, and they started out for a stroll.

“How I have been longing to see you!” Charlotte exclaimed.

“I could not wait any longer, so I took it upon myself to call on you and welcome you home. How was the journey?” Charlotte asked.

Elizabeth took some time to tell her about their travels, the house, and the Darcys. “I hope they will keep their word and come to Netherfield, for I am sure you will be very glad to know them.”

“I am sure I will be if you say so,” Charlotte said, linking her arm through Elizabeth’s as they walked.

Even though they were seven years apart in age, Charlotte was her dearest friend.

While Mrs Bennet could hardly speak of Charlotte without lamenting her plainness, she was foolishly overlooking her great worth.

Charlotte was intelligent and kind, qualities infinitely more valuable than mere prettiness.

“Tell me, what has you so troubled, Lizzy? You do not seem yourself.” Charlotte asked after a brief pause. “Did something befall you at Strathalt House? Perhaps a spook has vexed you?” she teased.

“No, it is not a ghost,” Elizabeth said.

“It is the spectre of the once-good relationship that Jane and I shared. Something has gone terribly wrong, Charlotte. She is furious with me, and I cannot understand why.” Elizabeth held back the tears with difficulty.

“I had no idea she would be upset that Papa asked me to go to Scotland instead of her. I never would have dreamt of going if I had known.” She bit her lower lip, knowing that was not entirely true.

She would never regret going to Scotland, meeting Mr Darcy and Georgiana, and falling in love.

That last realisation made her still, and Charlotte halted on the path, her frown deepening. “That does not sound like Jane.”

“I know. Oh, Charlotte, it was awful. We have never fought before, and yesterday she was so angry —” Tears spilt down her cheeks, and she had to stop walking. “I fear the breach between us will be difficult to mend.”

“Between you and Jane? Surely not! Jane is the sweetest, kindest, most unassuming person I know.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I thought so, too. But after yesterday, I am consumed with doubts. Has she seemed different at all while we’ve been away?”

Charlotte thought for a moment. “No, I cannot think of any instance where she has not been her quiet, proper self.” Charlotte linked arms with her again and pulled her down the road.

“Perhaps you are mistaken about her reactions. I am sure she was only a little hurt that your father showed such preference for you.”

“I suppose so, Charlotte. But if she wanted to go to Scotland so badly, why did she not say so? We have never been ones to hide anything from each other.” Elizabeth could not hold back the tears any longer.

Thankfully, she knew Charlotte would hold everything in confidence.

“Oh, Charlotte, I feel as if the whole world is crumbling. I have never seen Jane like this. It is as if I do not know her anymore.”

Charlotte rubbed her back as they walked slowly down the little hill. “I am sure all will be well in time. Give her some space, and I am sure she will come back to you and apologise. She will see the error of her ways. Jane has always been one to think of others before herself.”

Elizabeth said nothing more, but her heart was not at peace. She would have agreed with Charlotte only a few short weeks ago. After Jane’s angry display in the garden, Elizabeth was no longer sure her sister wished to mend the breach between them.