Page 17 of The Countess and Her Sister
Elizabeth smiled with mirth, relishing his unabashed compliment. Rebecca had indeed done wonders for Elizabeth and Jane after they lost their father, and she was glad that her return to joy was noticeable. She was very glad indeed that he approved.
And yet it was a relief that she had no opportunity to reply, and deepen her own treachery in savoring his charm. Miss Bingley came to fawn over Mr. Darcy, and Elizabeth hastily absented herself from the peevish and preening woman’s presence.
Elizabeth sought out Jane, who was speaking contentedly with Richard and Mr. Tilney. “At last, another lovely lady,” cried the latter.
“We have been lamenting that half the ladies present this evening are either twice our age, or married already – or both,” Richard said. “Whereas ten of the twelve gentlemen are available and all seem quite keen. Jane has promised to be doubly charming, in an effort to restore balance.”
“I believe we must extract the same promise from Miss Bennet,” Mr. Tilney added. “It is only right.”
“Mr. Tilney has already informed us both that we are quite five times as charming as any other women on earth, so I believe they are quite safe,” Elizabeth said to Jane, raising her brow with a mischievous lilt.
“I see what you think of me,” Mr. Tilney said gravely. “I shall make a poor figure in your diary tomorrow.”
Jane gasped. “How did you know I keep a diary?”
“Does not everybody? I hope they do. One ought to always have something sensational to read on long journeys. But I know just what you will say, Lady Jane. I dined with the Bingleys, wore an elegant blue-green gown that shimmered in the candlelight, and appeared to every advantage – but was harassed by a very queer, half-witted distant relation who would make me dance with him, and distressed me by his nonsense. ”
Richard chuckled. “Jane could not be so unkind – such words would more likely appear in Rebecca’s black book of whims and witchery.”
When Mr. Tilney gave a hoot of laughter that drew the attention of Mr. Bingley, Jane’s eyes lit with merriment.
“My brother does not jest – she really does have a rather sinister looking journal full of her fancies, as well as some interesting drawings of various calamities befalling anybody who makes her cross.”
“It is a most instructive volume,” Elizabeth agreed.
“You have read Lady Rebecca’s journal and lived to tell the tale? You possess astonishing bravery, Lady Jane,” Mr. Bingley said, catching the thread of conversation as soon as he joined them.
“I have not, though she offered to share it with us once in an effort to lift our spirits when they were low.”
Mr. Bingley’s smile faltered. “I am heartily sorry you ever had such cause to need cheering. But if you ever find yourself feeling the slightest bit dispirited, I beg you would allow me to pen something to divert you – it would be a fine distinction to best Lady Rebecca at something!”
Jane actually giggled, as she had not done since before the dark cloud of her marriage had shaded her every expression. “I am far too pleased this evening to lament anything at all, but the next time that I do, I shall certainly apply to you for the balm of a fine joke.”
Elizabeth and Richard shared a significant look between themselves at Jane’s ease with Mr. Bingley. Mr. Tilney perceived it as well, and began to move away, muttering, “I suppose as a parson I ought to speak to Rebecca about her devil book.”
Elizabeth also drifted away, leaving Jane in good hands with their brother and Mr. Bingley. She ambled about the room, content to observe such an interesting assortment of people. Ere long, she was set upon by the pack of matrons who had been surveying the scene far more shrewdly.
The proud old ladies were full of impertinent questions, which, though not designed to divert Elizabeth, certainly had that effect. She took the liberty of responding in kind.
“You are the countess’s sister, are you not?”
“Her favorite of five, Mrs. Ferrars.”
“Not the most modest of them, I daresay,” Mrs. Rushworth sniffed. She glanced around the room at her son, who was awkwardly attempting to detach Miss Bingley from Mr. Darcy. “My son’s estate, Sotherton Court, is about sixty miles from Matlock Hall, near Corby.”
“We are not familiar with that part of the country, ma’am, and spend little time at Matlock Hall.”
“And do you often accompany the countess when she travels away from London?”
“Always, Mrs. Thorpe, by which I mean never. We do not travel often.”
“That is a pity! But you ought to make the most of your fortunate situation and enjoy visiting such refined places as Bath, for instance. I am taking John and Isabella there next month.”
Mrs. Ferrars gave the other two matrons a look of impatience. “My sons and I vastly prefer London, and it is only natural the countess should feel the same – but she can expect to enjoy the finest society wherever she goes. Whose balls and parties does she favor?”
“Nobody’s.” Elizabeth was delighted to be of so little use to the bristling matrons. “She has told me herself that we are so recently returned to society that she has formed no preferences of any kind, nor is she likely to with any haste.”
“To be a widow at her age – she deserves to make merry whenever she can,” Mrs. Thorpe observed with a little sigh.
“What are her pursuits? If she is fond of little excursions into the country, my John is often making parties of his and Isabella’s friends, and taking scenic drives – he has a great passion for stylish carriages.
He loves to thrill his friends with his exhilarating style of driving. ”
“Happily, Lady Jane has use of three very grand equipages of her own in London, and a few gigs and phaetons at her country homes, though motherhood has taught her to enjoy a more sedate mode of travel.”
Mrs. Ferrars and Mrs. Rushworth clearly thought Mrs. Thorpe of lower quality, though their own machinations were just as mean.
For another quarter hour, they beset Elizabeth with questions about Jane, and even asked about herself, what fortune she possessed – and to her own private hilarity, her accomplishments.
Dinner was an even more perverse delight. There had indeed been several miscreants meddling with the seating arrangement, resulting in a table Miss Bingley was plainly horrified to behold, for all deference to rank had been reduced to an oddly grouped shambles.
Elizabeth thought it was excessively diverting, and fortunately her own placement had not suffered too badly from all of the interference.
She was seated between Richard and Mr. Hurst, and was near enough to Jane to enjoy the sight of her sister speaking a great deal with Mr. Bingley at the head of the table.
Lady Gardiner was on his other side, affably guiding the conversation and putting her niece at ease.
Even Captain Tilney was near enough to pay Jane his occasional addresses, though he provided the greatest amusement to Elizabeth by his conversation with Miss Thorpe, whom Elizabeth thought entirely too saccharine to be trusted or taken seriously.
Naturally, Miss Bingley had already taken the opportunity to bestow favor on the simpering chit and slight Elizabeth in the process.
Mr. Darcy was seated – and plainly suffering – at the side of Miss Bingley on the opposite end of the long and elegant table, with nobody around him that she could imagine he would enjoy conversing with.
She spared him a moment of pity and resolved to think no further of him, unless it was to observe him with Jane after the meal.
While Mr. Hurst addressed his companions only with occasional observations on the fine meal in between inelegant gobbles, Richard was a wonderful dinner companion.
He had been especially inclined to be pleasing to Elizabeth since the debacle of Mr. Darcy’s insult, and tonight he eagerly amused her with whispered gossip about all their dinner companions.
Edward Ferrars, he told her, was disabused of his mother and supercilious sister’s ambitions for him; he wished to take orders and give very dull sermons.
His younger brother was a puppy and a coxcomb, full of tedious and even bizarre conversation.
Richard heartily recommended Elizabeth discover it for herself after dinner.
The Thorpes, he told her, were a family of little standing.
John Thorpe had known Mr. Bingley a little at Eton, and clung to the acquaintance, which Mr. Bingley was too generous to sever despite being vastly more genteel a fellow than his friend.
The family possessed little fortune, and Mrs. Thorpe had staked what remained of their resources on bringing her son and prettiest daughter to London.
After a season of little success, she meant to make one final attempt in Bath to ensnare wealthy mates for her children.
Most shocking was Richard’s revelation that Mr. Rushworth had been divorced above a year ago – it was a great scandal in the papers when his fetching and lively young wife ran off with a rakish friend of her family, who eventually abandoned her to the mercy of her mortified husband.
He had recently consigned himself to the marriage mart once more, in search of a more virtuous bride.
Elizabeth pitied the man’s placement beside Miss Bingley.
For Jane she felt nothing but affectionate elation.
Jane seemed to glow from the admiration of Mr. Bingley, the flirtation of Captain Tilney, and the unwavering support of Lady Gardiner.
Elizabeth had not seen her sister so joyful and easy since before her marriage, and her heart swelled with gratification at Jane’s return to herself.
She was as Elizabeth remembered her at the first assembly she ever attended, when she was fifteen.
Jane had been out for years and was radiant from the pleasing attention she received and the knowledge of being thought agreeable.
The subsequent years had altered Jane’s ability to like everybody she met and revel blithely in cheerful society.
But tonight, she was at last herself again, and though Elizabeth wondered when Jane might see that this had everything to do with Mr. Bingley’s convivial courtship, it occurred to her that Jane might have anybody she chose, and she might well choose any of them.
Without envy or reservation, Elizabeth heartily believed that her sister deserved only the very best of men.