Page 10

“ I’m sorry, what did you say?” Lizzy and Jane rattled along in the back of a bus towards their digs in Cheapside.

They had slipped out soon after their obligatory tea.

Having work the next day did circumscribe their social life quite a bit.

That lovely Mr Bingley offered to drive them home in his motorcar, but his sister insisted on staying on at Mrs Maxwell’s, so that was that.

George was nowhere to be found, so they arranged their own passage home.

Lizzy was relieved. She had much to think of since her meeting in the garden with Mr Darcy.

“ My goodness, you’re distracted.” Jane offered one of her disarming smiles. “I hope you aren’t still angry with Mr Wickham, Lizzy. I don’t think he really means to be rude. He’s one of those men who just doesn’t think.”

Elizabeth shook her head and had to smile. Jane could make excuses for the devil himself. She never saw the faults in a person, nor did she judge. “Oh, he thinks very carefully. Don’t be fooled. In any case, I wasn’t thinking of him. I do believe he’s found bigger fish than me to fry.”

“ I wish you wouldn’t use terms like that. Your way of expressing yourself has become rather—”

“ Brazen?” Elizabeth laughed.

“ I was going to say ‘bold’. Honestly, Lizzy. I do believe those suffragettes are having an influence on you.”

“ I certainly hope so…” She was silent a minute. “That Mr Darcy. He actually told me that he changed his mind about women and the vote.”

“ What’s so remarkable about that? You are very persuasive.”

“ It’s remarkable because men rarely change their minds. They might be persuaded to give in, but they rarely change their minds. It speaks well of him, but I can’t reconcile what I know of him now, and what George has told me. I suppose that’s made me so pensive.”

“ Perhaps there’s more to the story than Mr Wickham told you.”

“ Undoubtedly.” Elizabeth sighed. “Let’s think no more about it. You and Mr Bingley did a splendid job on your dance this afternoon. I was proud of you. I think Mr Bingley might have designs on you that go beyond a dance partner.” She rolled her eyes and Jane did too.

“ We’re behaving like schoolgirls… I do like him, though. I think I may be falling in love with him.”

“ I could see that coming from the first time he saw you in the window at Selfridges. Has he said anything to you?”

“ Not yet, but I expect he may. He does seem awfully fond of me. I think his sister likes me too.”

“ Caroline Bingley? Ha. That harridan.”

“ Lizzy, you shouldn’t say such things. She has always been very solicitous of me.”

“ Perhaps… through clenched teeth. She tolerates you at best, and she despises me. I have no idea why.”

“ Oh, I’m sure you’re wrong. I believe she thinks that I’m a good match for her brother.”

“ I truly doubt that, but if he really loves you, it won’t matter what she thinks.”

Jane began to tug on her gloves. “Families are important, Lizzy. You know that. Still, perhaps it is too early to talk of love.”

“ Not if we are speaking of love at first sight,” Lizzy teased. Before Jane could object, she glanced outside. “Come along. This is our stop.”

With that, they wove their way through the crowd onto the damp street and made their way to their cosy room as the mystery of Mr Darcy haunted Lizzy’s thoughts.

***

After that fateful “tango tea,” George’s interest in Lizzy waned to the point of cordiality and nothing more.

He never asked her to another tea or to a music hall.

He smiled at her, gave her no explanations, and drifted away.

She had to admit that the loss of his attention gave her no real pain.

He was amusing, but she was not in love with him.

Unfortunately, Jane saw less of Mr Bingley than she had hoped.

The summer season, which began in May with the vernissage at the Royal Academy , was in full swing, and Charles Bingley seemed to be off to one house party or garden party after another and was often engaged at cricket matches or parties in bungalows along the Thames.

They often saw his photo in the society pages of the London papers.

Lizzy suspected that this gay social tumult had been arranged for him by his sister so that he could meet a more suitable young lady than this shopgirl, Jane.

She said nothing to Jane as that would only add to her distress of not seeing him.

Rumour had it that he was looking for an estate, which would establish him in the upper echelons of society.

He might be drifting inexorably away from Jane, as his sister was, no doubt, planning.

It angered Lizzy, but there was nothing she could do about it.

The two of them, of course, worked setting the tableaus in Selfridges’ windows.

Summer frocks for the ladies, slim-fitting suits for the men, and straw hats with wide brims filled the displays.

The store bustled, and it gave them less time to think of young men as Mr Goldsman took up all their attention, at least, during the day.

As Lizzy and Jane arrived home at the boardinghouse, a letter was waiting for them from their mother. As soon as they reached their room, Lizzy opened it and read it to Jane.

Dear Jane and Lizzy,

Wonderful news. Papa has received an invitation to attend the Henley Regatta.

You girls must join us. Perhaps you can get the entire weekend of July 1 and 2 or even the Monday.

It would so please your father. We will be attending with Mr Collins, and he is most anxious to make your acquaintance. Do see if you can manage it, won’t you?

“ What do you make of that?” Lizzy peered over the letter at Jane.

“ What do you mean? Papa wants us to join him for the regatta. I think it will be splendid… if we can convince Mr Goldsman—”

“ No, Mama wants to trot us out to that Mr Collins person.”

“ Oh, Lizzy. Does it matter? It’s a chance to attend the regatta. I was so hoping that Mr…” Jane frowned and sat on her bed.

“ You were hoping that your Mr Bingley would ask you, weren’t you? Perhaps he will and you can just tell him we are already engaged for that event .” Lizzy did her best to turn up her nose aristocratically, which worked its magic on Jane. She laughed.

“ I have been rather a mope these last few weeks, haven’t I?”

“ If you have, this outing will just do the trick. I think we might persuade Mr Goldsman to give us either the Saturday before our usual Sunday, or the Monday off, but not both. He’s been a bit grumpy lately… complaining that our English summers are not warm like they are in Chicago.”

“ You want to go, then?”

“ Of course, I do. I must admit that I miss all of them, even Mama.”

“ Well, then, it’s settled. Read the rest of the letter.”

There was news of Mary, Kitty and Lydia, and the usual gossip around Meryton.

Lizzy’s friend, Charlotte, was also attending the regatta with her parents, Sir William and Lady Lucas.

That pleased Lizzy enormously. She and Charlotte were great friends.

In fact, she’d tried to persuade Charlotte to join them in London and try their luck at obtaining a position at Selfridges, but Charlotte declined.

Ah, well. They would visit in Henley-on-Thames if Mr Goldsman was amenable.

Perhaps, they might even see Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy there.

Lizzy couldn’t imagine why Mr Darcy seemed to pop into her head more often than not.

Perhaps it was that conversation in the garden that disconcerted her.

She disliked being contradicted in her opinions, especially when she herself was doing the contradicting.

As luck would have it, Mr Goldsman was perfectly happy to let the two of them leave a trifle early on the Friday and then return for work on Tuesday morning.

Both Jane and Lizzy acquitted themselves admirably during the store’s decorating craze that Mr Selfridge ordered to celebrate the coronation of King George V and Queen Mary.

Any passerby might think that Selfridges was a palace, hung with red bunting along the exterior columns, and gold-embroidered medallions depicting the royal emblems. There were twelve-foot-high shields with the coats of arms of the kings of history, gauntlets, flags, and all manner of royal paraphernalia.

The window dressing lasted far into the night, and Lizzy and Jane gladly stayed late after closing.

When Mr Goldsman asked questions such as “What about this?” or “What about that?” they could answer each time.

“We’ve finished that, sir. All done.” The poor man really had no earthly reason not to grant their request. It was not that his nature was so magnanimous, but Mr Selfridge set a tone in the store that rewarded hard work and, unlike all the other employers in the city, really cared whether his employees were happy.

Before they knew it, they were on the train to Henley, all decked out in their summer frocks and brimming with excitement.

Unbeknownst to Jane, Lizzy had a stack of Votes for Women pamphlets secreted in her travel bag.

The regatta, which drew the rich and powerful to the river for sport, would be a perfect place to distribute her suffragette literature.

Her poor sister was convinced that Lizzy would end up in prison being force-fed and abused.

Lizzy, however, was firmly entrenched in the idea that discretion was the better part of valor.

She had no intention of getting arrested.

“ Oh, Lizzy, Jane, there you are.” Their mother’s voice pierced through the throng at the station like a rapier.

She was bouncing about, waving and shouting, and she came over, fluttering around them both like a distraught mother hen.

“Come along, come along, girls. Your father has hired a motor, and we have rooms at the Cherry Tree Inn.”

“ Doesn’t that sound lovely?” Jane looked at Lizzy, her face awash in smiles.

“ It sounds… cosy.” Lizzy wasn’t sure what they would find there. Perhaps all five of them would be crowded into one room. Still, it was a chance to see the family again after an absence of so many months, and Lizzy welcomed it.