Page 14 of Ever After End

CHAPTER 13

S t Valentine’s Day arrived, and Longbourn was busy preparing for the Netherfield Ball. Mr Ferrars had already asked Jane for the first and the supper sets, which she granted, and Mrs Bennet had, of course, relayed this information to her sister, who ensured it was known throughout the village by tea time the following day. It was true that even in the space of two weeks, the man’s attention had been so marked that it was noted by all in the village, with or without Mrs Bennet’s help.

The Bennets greeted their hosts in the receiving line, then entered a ballroom filled with ladies in white and ivory ball gowns. “I do wish it was the fashion to wear something other than white to a private ball,” said Kitty, whose pale complexion was washed out terribly by the lack of colour. “I hate not looking my best, just because I must wear my worst colour.”

Her sisters agreed that it was an abominable injustice, but white was the fashion, and any lady wearing anything else at a private ball would stick out like a peacock. There were officers, but the Bennet ladies were not allowed to dance with them, and those men did not approach them. After Mrs Bennet’s experience, Mr Bennet had visited Colonel Forster, and banned the entire regiment from his lands, or from approaching his daughters.

The men Mrs Bennet named were each given a week in the lock up for ungentlemanly conduct, Wickham himself received two, and they were all strictly forbidden to speak the Bennet name again, nor even to court ladies in the village. Colonel Forster was horrified to hear that his officers had been speaking thus of gentlewomen in the street, declared that the men had forfeited all rights to such privileges, and that they were all lucky not to be demoted. They were now rarely allowed outside of camp. As a result, the Bennet ladies danced a great deal less than the other ladies, but they did not repine, for without revealing Kitty’s mistake, their parents had explained the dishonour of the officers, and also, Mrs Lockhart had invited another half dozen of her husband’s friends for the ball, so the selection of dance partners was not as sparse as it could have been.

Though Miss Ellis was needed at the ball to supervise Mary and Kitty, she had been obliged to stay home to control Lydia, who was heartbroken at being left behind while her sisters danced. Lydia had never attended a private ball of such distinction, only small dances at the homes of the Lucases and Gouldings. Once the Lockharts left the neighbourhood, who knew when another would happen in Meryton again. Elizabeth, Jane, and Mrs Bennet all agreed Lydia needed more society, and that her isolation was making her despondent. She needed more than her sisters’ company, she was too lively of a girl.

Elizabeth wrote to her uncle requesting to use some of her ready funds to pay for a term of school for Lydia, and a recommendation from their aunt for a good school for young ladies of Lydia’s rank. Uncle Gardiner replied that Elizabeth must be careful not to let her family’s needs scrape away at her funds, but because Jane promised that the following year would be paid by whatever additional profits were earned by her efforts on the estate, he did not deny the request. Elizabeth had only so far spent fifty pounds of the seven hundred that was held back from the percents. In another month, Uncle Gardiner would come to conduct Lydia to Mrs Mandeville’s Seminary for Young Ladies, a good school located in London, where the young ladies enjoyed the museums, lectures, tours, and other delights of the city.

Mr Ferrars’s younger brother had arrived the day before the ball. Elizabeth danced with him, but when she discouraged his second request, and rebuffed his subsequent attentions to her, the man became snide, and rude to all of the Bennet ladies. He then spent the rest of the night attempting to part his brother from Jane. Elizabeth found the hauteur of Mr Robert Ferrars revolting, and told Mary that she could not repine the loss of his approbation.

Mrs Bennet was, as usual, a problem, and Mr Bennet, as usual, did nothing. In fact he made the matter worse. For once, not only had Mrs Bennet drunk too much punch, but so had Mr Bennet. Mrs Bennet was loud the entire evening, and Mr Bennet embarrassed everyone when Mary attempted to perform on the harp-lute that Uncle Gardiner had just sent from town. She was not very skilled yet, but she had learned a few light, pleasant tunes, and the village had no one who played a lute, although there was a man with a guitar in the village. The harp-lute was a smaller instrument more appropriate for ladies, and Mary was excited to display it.

“Mary, you are always monopolising one instrument or another, let the other ladies have a turn to exhibit,” her father said, waving for a footman to take Mary’s lute and return it to their carriage.

Elizabeth felt terrible for poor Mary, and did her very best to pay attention to her dinner partner, Mr Lockhart’s friend, Mr Osborne, who was a partner at a small bank in London. Suddenly, Elizabeth heard her mother’s shrill tones.

“Did I not tell you, Mrs Long? I knew how it would be! Mr Ferrars has been half in love with Jane since he entered the village!” exclaimed Mrs Bennet, loud enough for everyone in the dining room to hear.

“Yes, Mr Ferrars, the sooner you marry my eldest and introduce my other daughters to your rich friends, the better,” followed Mr Bennet, as inebriated as Mrs Bennet, and equally as loud.

Elizabeth looked over at Jane just in time to see her turn white, though she did not display a hint of distress, or even a flicker of emotion. She turned to the dinner partner on her left, their parson, Mr Abbot, and asked him how he found the pheasant. Elizabeth saw a look pass between Mr Ferrars, who was on Jane’s right, and his brother, and hoped that Mr Robert and her parents would not present too great a challenge for Jane and Mr Ferrars.

The following morning, a note addressed to Jane was delivered at the breakfast table.

Netherfield,

Miss Bennet,

I find that I simply cannot do without yours and your sister Elizabeth’s company today at Netherfield. I beg you to return this message to say that you are not too tired from last night’s frivolities to come and sit with me in my private parlour. The men are going shooting. I shall send my carriage for you at noon.

Abigail Lockhart

Jane and Elizabeth both thought the invitation was strange, considering the amount of work that must be done at Netherfield after the ball, but they sent their acceptance. Mrs Bennet raved about this distinction somehow being a compliment to Jane by Mr Ferrars. Elizabeth and Jane were grateful that Mrs Lockhart was to send her carriage for them, for Mrs Bennet was not above sending them on foot to avoid letting them use the carriage when it looked like rain. She might have sent Jane on horseback, but Elizabeth would not ride.

When Elizabeth and Jane were shown into Abigail’s private parlour, there was a tea service waiting. Their hostess seemed nervous, and unhappy as she poured and served.

When they finally each had a cup of tea and a cake, Jane demanded “Abigail, what is it?”

Abigail hesitated, “Jane I am so very sorry to tell you that Mr Ferrars has returned to London with his brother. I fear that his admiration of you was unequal to your parent’s display last night. I cannot account for Mr Robert’s dislike of your entire family, but he would not leave Edward alone until he forced him to admit that while you were suitable, your parents and family are not nearly fashionable enough for their mother, who would be furious, possibly even angry enough to disinherit him.”

Jane's face was as still as stone, she said nothing, only sipped her tea. “Oh, Jane,” said Elizabeth.

“Jane, I am so sorry,” said Abigail. “Nicholas is furious with him. He says that Edward carried on too far, and that even after a fortnight, his honour is engaged after such notice, but Mr Robert was unyielding. I do believe that Nicholas and Edward will fall out about it. I could never put such a thing in a letter. I had to ensure that you had some privacy, and your sister with you, when you learned of it.”

“Thank you,” said Jane. She then sighed. “I am not devastated, but I am disappointed. I did not love him yet, but I was hoping that he would give me some assurance of his regard soon, that I might let my heart be touched.”

“Jane, I am grateful, with a mother and father such as ours, that you are so careful of your feelings. Otherwise, with their behaviour and its subsequent results, you would have had your heart broken near to a dozen times by now,” Elizabeth said sadly to her sister. It was a shame. And now Jane would be obliged to return to Longbourn and listen to her mother complain to the entire neighbourhood of her disappointment for weeks.

Abigail continued to make comforting little remarks to Jane as Elizabeth contemplated what ought to be done next to help Jane through this regret and mortification. It had been too long since she and Jane had visited their aunt. Perhaps she would send her uncle an express when they returned to Longbourn, asking if the two of them could visit. It was three months until her majority, and Elizabeth needed a break from the endless negativity she found all over Meryton.

That would only delay the inevitable. Mrs Bennet was equal to displaying her disappointment for the entire village, and then displaying it all over again afresh the moment Jane returned. It felt like an endless cycle. Mrs Bennet had chased away so many suitors, only to bemoan her discontent over the matter for months every time. Heaven and earth, the woman was still bemoaning the loss of a silly youth who had written poetry to Jane in London when she was only fifteen. The young man had not even finished university.

In an instant, Elizabeth suddenly had an idea. “Abigail,” she demanded. “Tell me everything there is to know about Ever After End.”