Page 29 of The Countess and Her Sister
After dinner, Elizabeth sought Jane out before the music and dancing resumed.
She had partaken of more than enough wine, and her courage was sufficient to hear an account of her sister’s displeasure.
Jane had certainly made little attempt to conceal her feelings – Elizabeth would have it out with her and be done with the frosty stares – and hopefully she might enjoy the rest of the masquerade.
She sighted Jane across the ballroom, speaking with Mr. Bingley and his sister.
Miss Bingley looked at Elizabeth with a sneer and leaned toward Jane to whisper in her ear.
Miss Bingley’s gaze drifted from Elizabeth to Mr. Darcy, but Jane’s eyes locked on her sister.
The mask she wore did not conceal the hard set of her jaw.
Elizabeth faltered in her steps, suddenly afraid of being set down by her sister in the presence of that vicious harpy.
But Jane turned and said something to Miss Bingley that caused her to falter, her smug smile fading.
Mr. Bingley turned from watching the dancers form the next set, and entreated Jane to join him, his hand extended to her.
Miss Bingley moved to place Jane’s hand in Mr. Bingley’s, her posture unusually deferential as she spoke. But Jane withdrew her hand, raising a finger as if asking Mr. Bingley to wait, and then she strode toward Elizabeth.
Jane offered a quick, tight smile, and let out a sharp breath.
“I did not think myself unreasonable at being cross with you for your costume, until I heard Miss Bingley malign you so absurdly. Certainly she has no right to think it presumptuous for you to masquerade as Mr. Darcy’s queen.
I thought that I did, but it seems so preposterous now.
It is just a costume, and he has rejected me, anyhow. ”
“Rejected you? Jane, you must not take it as such. He has seen that he does not suit you so well as his friend.”
Jane’s lip quivered. “Do you say that to me in earnest, Lizzy? Or do you rather mean to say that I do not suit him as well as you do?”
Elizabeth reached for her sister’s hand. “Could it not be both? Could it not be possible that those who are reserved are perfectly balanced by those who are lively?”
“And so, you shall have the gentleman of duty and honor, the man whose loyalty even compelled him to promise me that Thomas shall have his aid in perpetuity – and I am left with a man who may cease to return my regard if his sister’s mood turns sour.”
Jane fidgeted with her mask as tears welled in her eyes.
When Elizabeth could make no response beyond open-mouthed horror at her worst fears playing out before her, Jane continued to lament.
“Perhaps I ought not speak of it before I have made sense of it all – it has been but two days, Lizzy, and already you make no secret of your sentiments. I cannot but fear they have been there all along, moving you to promote Mr. Bingley at every chance.”
“I have done everything to extinguish them, to avoid making myself an obstacle in your path, but I can hardly alter your disposition, Jane, and render you the gregarious companion he requires to grow lively himself.” Elizabeth gasped at her own heated speech, but there it was, the truth now laid bare.
She was weary of berating herself for what Jane ought to have comprehended from all her diary entries.
“You are livelier with Mr. Bingley, whatever his faults, Jane. Whatever the future may hold, he is devoted to you, presently – more so than he has ever been to anybody, by Mr. Darcy’s telling, and you could hardly accuse a man you think so noble of speaking in self-interest. Your doubt in Mr. Bingley’s regard is understandable after what your marriage was, but you must endeavor to overcome such feelings.
You are perfectly capable of retaining Mr. Bingley’s affections by being yourself, Jane if only you would put aside the inadequacy you felt when you were mistreated by a man whom nothing would ever have pleased.
Forgive me, Jane, but Mr. Darcy has naught to do with my wish to see you happy – perhaps he has little to do with your own discomfort. ”
Jane squeezed Elizabeth’s hand as she drew in a long slow breath.
Tears spilled down onto her chest. She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes for a moment before looking at Elizabeth.
Finally, she spoke. “If you say that you have not been biased in pressing me to like Mr. Bingley, I shall believe you. You have always been a true and devoted sister. It is not your fault that I envy how much easier it has been for you.”
Elizabeth bristled at this. It had not been easy to convince herself she did not admire Mr. Darcy, to actually hope for his success in courting Jane, and to watch her sister prolong a courtship that paled in comparison to what might be.
But this was nothing, she knew, to the difficulties Jane faced in courting any prospective suitor, after what she had endured in her first marriage.
What was a cautionary tale for Elizabeth was lingering and visceral for Jane.
Rebecca approached them, bearing three glasses of punch in her carefully clasped hands. “You two look as if you need this more than I do, and I had to sit through supper amidst the General flirting shamelessly with Mamma.”
Jane and Elizabeth each accepted a glass of punch, and Rebecca drank deeply from her own.
“The two of you look miserable, which I hope means you have had it out about your beaux. It is hardly as if you are both enamored of the same man, so I shall have no patience for such sullen looks. You still have options to revel in, Jane, and have perhaps not yet met every man who will happily fall at your feet. Go and demonstrate to Mr. Bingley how fortunate he is to be in your charming presence! And you, Lizzy, go forth and make Lady Catherine very angry, I beg you.”
Jane laughed and shook her head, and Elizabeth took this as encouragement to extend her hand to her sister. “Truce?”
“Truce, Lizzy. We are perfectly at peace, always, and in truth we have Miss Bingley to thank for rousing me to come to my senses. Anything that inspires such indignation in her ought to make us all smile – is it not so, Rebecca?”
Rebecca heartily agreed. “Whatever is in the punch to inspire such talk from my angelic sister, I must bid you drink more of it! Wickedness is a matter of form at any of Lady Thurston’s affairs; it is expected of us.”
Richard sauntered over to his sisters with a loose sway in his steps and a crooked smile.
“Jane, you have tarried too long and Lady Susan has carried off your beau. But why are none of you dancing? I can hardly stand up with all three of you at once – I shall claim my sweetest sister to aid me in protecting Bingley from the merriest widow in all of Christendom.”
As Richard offered Jane his hand, the ladies looked round at Mr. Bingley, who was appealing to Mr. Darcy with a helpless grimace as Lady Susan fairly dragged him to the set that was forming. When Richard led Jane away, Rebecca finished her punch and grabbed Elizabeth by the hand.
“Come, Lizzy! We have stood up together often enough when Jane practices her instrument. Let us dance so splendidly that all the gentlemen who have partnered other ladies regret their choice.”
Elizabeth saw through her sister’s nonsense, for Henry Tilney was walking in their direction, and Rebecca took every chance to vex his unflappable regard.
Mr. Darcy was also nearby, but Elizabeth happily followed Rebecca to join the dance.
At present she could think only of indulging her own relief that the rift between her and Jane had been healed before it could deepen.
She was emboldened by a surge of happiness beyond anything she had allowed herself to indulge in this last month.
Elizabeth and Rebecca laughed, their half-sprung spinning and twirling not always in time with the other dancers – indeed, half of their steps were entirely of their own invention, to the unrestrained amusement of their fellow dancers.
The rowdy party seemed a shimmering blur to Elizabeth; the flickering candlelight and almost scandalously dim lighting cast a dreamlike quality on the revelry, as if everyone dancing together was softer and lovelier, and their movements were all divine.
A small part of Elizabeth knew that they had all taken leave of decorum in the throes of their frivolity, but as the dance obliged her to exchange partners again and then again before reuniting with Rebecca, Elizabeth was beyond thinking of anything except her own exultant joy.
Even Jane was merrier, laughing with Richard, her movements as animated as Rebecca and Elizabeth’s nonsensical improvisations.
Everything was vastly amusing, Elizabeth felt uncommonly alluring as she noticed how Mr. Darcy watched her dance, and she made free in diverting herself to the fullest at a lavish ball with her favorite people.
***
Darcy shared a drink with Henry Tilney as they silently watched the ladies they admired make a rather enticing spectacle of themselves. Elizabeth laughed and swayed her head with a dreamy smile, and the sight of her so free with her joy stirred something inside of Darcy.
“Just what one might expect of Lady Thurston’s celebrations,” Tilney mused.
Darcy watched almost guiltily. “They are making up their steps – I would intervene, but nobody seems to mind – I would only add to the foolery of it.”
“Are not all steps made up? Look, our other cousins are following their very interesting new figures.”