Page 23 of The Briar Bargain (The Rom Com Collection #3)

W hen the ladies withdrew after dinner, Elizabeth walked beside Jane with a lightness of step that would have been unimaginable that morning.

Dinner had unfolded like a particularly entertaining play, with Mr. Darcy cast in the unexpected role of her defender and Miss Bingley relegated to the far less flattering part of the thwarted antagonist.

"You are in remarkably good spirits, Lizzy." They settled themselves near the fire. "This morning you appeared ready to walk to Longbourn, and now you look as though you might actually be enjoying yourself."

"I confess that I was, and I am," Elizabeth replied. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst took seats at the far end of the room. "It has been a most illuminating day."

"Has it indeed?" Jane's eyes sparkled with gentle curiosity. "And might this illumination have anything to do with a certain gentleman's remarkable attentiveness to your welfare?"

Elizabeth felt her cheeks heat. "Mr. Darcy has been surprisingly helpful in deflecting certain unpleasant remarks."

“He has,” her sister replied .

Elizabeth inclined her head towards their hostesses. "They seem to be plotting something."

“You are changing the subject, but I will allow it.” Jane’s smile flattened as she watched Mr. Bingley’s sisters whisper together. "Let them plot.”

The unexpected firmness in her sister’s voice surprised her a little. “Jane?”

“I have spent the day with displaced families.” Jane shook her head.

“Mrs. Farrow is forever counting her six children to be sure none of them have wandered outside.

Little Peter is well, but he has frightened his mother so badly that I do not believe she shall ever regain a sense of peace.

Mrs. Anson is managing three young children of her own and is increasing again.

But she carries on, no matter how ill she feels.

Mrs. Johnson has been managing a crying infant, two homesick children, and her elderly grandmother who insists, every few hours, that she wishes to walk back to see that her cottage still survives.

Against that, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst just seem . . . small."

Elizabeth was delighted at this unexpected display from her gentle sister. "Jane! Such forceful opinions. I fear I may be a poor influence."

"You are nothing of the sort," Jane replied warmly.

"But these additional days at Netherfield have been instructive, Lizzy.

I find my patience sorely tested by ladies who spend their time manufacturing insults and grievances when genuine hardship exists mere steps away.

Little Sarah Anson has been asking every hour when she might go home to her dolly, and young Tom Johnson keeps watching the door for his father's return.

Meanwhile, our hostesses complain of being trapped in a house with thirty rooms and dinners with two courses. "

"I ought to have helped you more. I do apologise, it is simply that I have been so occupied with . . ." Elizabeth paused, searching for a delicate way to describe her day-long battle with Miss Bingley .

"With avoiding unnecessary conflicts, I imagine," Jane said with a knowing smile.

"And regaining your strength, which I require more than your assistance just now.

Mr. Bingley has been wonderfully generous.

He has promised temporary lodging in the village for those who require it, once they can be certain the bridge is sound.

" She tipped her head and leaned in. “Peter still worries about his rabbits.”

“Those rabbits might have cost him his life,” Elizabeth replied grimly.

"And yours as well," Jane said quietly, her hand finding Elizabeth's. "When I think of what could have happened . . ."

Elizabeth shook off the dark mood. "But it did not. And I would do the same again without hesitation."

Jane’s look was both fond and exasperated. "I know you would. Which is why I am so grateful that a certain gentleman was there to ensure your safety."

Across the room, Miss Bingley rose from her chair with obvious purpose, her sister following suit, smiling in a manner that reminded Elizabeth of cats spotting particularly plump mice.

"I do hope the roads dry before Sunday," Mrs. Hurst said with a sigh. "We shall grow moss behind the knees if this continues."

Miss Bingley let out a soft, musical laugh. "If only rain suited me. Alas, I am made for brighter climes."

"You are an ornament in all weather, as you well know, Caroline," said her sister.

"Miss Bennet, Miss Eliza," Miss Bingley said, nearly purring, "we were just discussing how difficult this situation must be for you both.”

"How thoughtful of you to be concerned," Jane replied with perfect composure. "Though I confess we feel more grateful than troubled. Mr. Bingley's hospitality has been beyond generous."

Her sister had not mentioned their hostess .

"Oh, Charles is kindness itself," Mrs. Hurst agreed with a wave of her hand. "But surely you must long for the ease of familiar surroundings? Your own rooms, your own servants, your own social circle?"

Social circle was a polite but not very veiled euphemism for sphere .

"Indeed, there is great comfort in familiar things," Jane agreed pleasantly. "Though houses can feel like home immediately when the inhabitants possess generous hearts."

Miss Bingley's smile tightened almost imperceptibly. "I suppose those accustomed to simpler pleasures are more easily satisfied."

"Perhaps," Elizabeth said with dangerous mildness, "though I believe true happiness stems from internal resources rather than external circumstances."

"How true," Jane added. "After all, the ability to find joy in simple pleasures and to appreciate the kindness of others seems a more pleasant way to stave off tedium."

Mrs. Hurst's fan reappeared and began fluttering with agitated energy. "Some of us," she said with brittle brightness, "cannot help but notice when standards fall below those to which we are accustomed."

"Oh, certainly,” Elizabeth agreed cordially.

“Though the highest standard of gentility is how one treats those who have no way to return the favour, do not you agree?

Kindness to those in distress, generosity to those in need, courtesy to those who depend upon one's hospitality—surely you agree that these represent the pinnacle of refinement? "

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst exchanged glances that spoke to their frustration. Elizabeth nearly laughed at their nearly identical sour expressions.

"Well," Miss Bingley said with forced lightness, "how fortunate that we need not concern ourselves with such weighty matters this evening. I am sure the gentlemen will rejoin us soon with news of their important discussions about bridges and drainage . "

Elizabeth hoped not. She had improvised enough for one day.

"I do hope so," Jane said warmly. "Your brother was so pleased about the progress they have made."

"Yes," Mrs. Hurst said with obvious lack of enthusiasm. "Having a task before him has helped him endure the situation. He grows restless so easily. Most men do.”

“Not Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bingley hastened to add.

Her sister nodded. “No, not him.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Miss Bingley smiled thinly. "Though I do believe Charles is content with the current arrangement. He always enjoys company."

"Mr. Bingley has offered hospitality in abundance," said Jane, her eyes remaining on her needle. “He is very kind.”

"Yes," Miss Bingley replied slowly. "And warm-hearted. Too much so, at times. We are often required to protect him from being taken advantage of."

Elizabeth turned her head slightly to address her sister. "How fortunate that Mr. Bingley has so many willing to advise him."

Mrs. Hurst gave a soft laugh. "My brother values guidance.”

“Especially from those who understand the wider world.” Miss Bingley’s politeness was all frost.

"And yet," said Elizabeth, tilting her head, "some guidance may be less about the world and more about how one wishes the world to be."

"An important distinction," Jane agreed, her tone serene.

Mrs. Hurst paused, assessing them both. "You must not mistake concern for interference."

"Perish the thought," Elizabeth said, inclining her head. "I am sure your concern springs from only the purest of intentions. "

Miss Bingley smoothed a hand over her skirts. "Charles may be susceptible to admiration, but he is not inconstant. He takes his associations seriously."

"I am glad to hear it," Jane said quietly.

Mrs. Hurst turned her attention to the rain-spotted windowpanes. "Such a pity the roads have not had enough time to dry."

Jane smiled but kept her gaze on her stitching. "It is not the season for gallivanting, to be sure. But it is rather cosy to be indoors, is it not?"

Miss Bingley gave a small, languid sigh. "Cosy, yes. But I confess I do long for the company of Town—so many friends, so many engagements. Do you recall Lady Bessborough’s musical evening last spring, Louisa?"

Mrs. Hurst’s eyes lit at the memory. "Oh yes. A crush in every room. Dreadful acoustics. And yet it was utterly divine."

"I daresay London is quite changed by now," said Miss Bingley. "Every season there are a new set of young ladies coming out. And so many of them are so very eligible."

Elizabeth gave no outward sign of noting the shift in tone. But she leaned back in her seat with deliberate care.

Jane stitched on.

"Oh, certainly," Mrs. Hurst said with a titter. "But that is what makes London society so invigorating, do you not think? One is never short of new acquaintances. And Charles," she said with an affectionate sigh, "is always in demand."

"Indeed," said Miss Bingley with exaggerated cheer, "there is no end to the admiration he attracts. A great favourite with the daughters of the ton. Was it not Lady Frances who once declared him the most amiable gentleman in the room?"

Elizabeth glanced at Jane. Her sister’s serene expression had not altered in the least .