Page 25 of The Happiness of a Most Beloved Sister (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

T he remainder of the week dragged by at a slow pace.

Elizabeth was impatient to return to London and see her sister’s happiness for herself, but of course they were meant to stay till Friday, and till Friday they would remain.

After a protracted goodbye—lengthened a good deal by Mr Collins indelicately hinting for Elizabeth to acknowledge that she regretted refusing him, an honour she could not truthfully bestow—she and Maria at last climbed into their hired carriage and were off.

“Good gracious!” Maria exclaimed, unlacing her bonnet and throwing it upon the seat beside her. “It seems but a day or two since we first came! And yet how many things have happened.”

An image of Darcy’s face as he proffered her the flower stone, which she had tucked safely into her reticule for the journey, swam before Elizabeth’s vision. “A great many indeed.”

They traversed the road between Hunsford and London peaceably and arrived at Gracechurch Street in a timely manner, only a little less than four hours from when they had set out.

They were greeted at the door by not only Mr and Mrs Gardiner but also Sir William Lucas, who had arrived to escort them home as arranged.

Jane was also there, but she stood off to the side, watching the spectacle with cool stoicism and only the barest of civilities.

Elizabeth’s stomach clenched when, upon meeting Jane’s eye, her sister turned her head sharply away.

This gesture went unobserved in the hustle and bustle of their arrival, and everyone was swept into the drawing room without any comment.

“Well,” said Mrs Gardiner once everyone was seated comfortably with a beverage in their hands, “we are so glad to have you back with us, Lizzy. And you, Miss Lucas, are very welcome too. Did you enjoy your holiday?”

They both agreed that they had, with Elizabeth leaving most of the enthusiastic adulation to Maria, who had endless compliments to offer on the score of Rosings Park and its inhabitants.

During the younger girl’s recitation, which was attended to and minutely questioned by her father, Elizabeth’s gaze strayed to where Jane sat at the far end of the room from herself.

Jane was as physically lovely as ever with her golden hair pinned up in a fashionable style, and her gown, white and pure as fresh snow, appeared new to Elizabeth’s eye.

She nodded along as Maria spoke, keeping her gaze studiously affixed to the girl without a single glance in her sister’s direction.

There was no fond warmth to be found in the rigid set of her expression, nor any apparent perception of Elizabeth in the room with her.

Heretofore, the pair of them had always sat together in close confederacy, communicating with and without words through a bond that had seemed unshakeable.

Now Jane would not so much as look at her.

Without warning, Maria changed topics. Turning to Jane, she said, “Elizabeth says that Mr Bingley has called upon you here in town. You must be glad to see him again.”

Jane gave Maria a regal nod. “He has. He paid a visit only this morning, and I am very pleased to renew the acquaintance.”

“But what will you do when we return to Hertfordshire tomorrow? Does Mr Bingley mean to live at Netherfield again?”

“As to that,” Mr Gardiner broke in, “I have exchanged correspondence with my brother Bennet, and he has given his permission for Jane and Lizzy to remain with us a little longer. It seems that Mr Bingley is not currently at liberty to leave London, so it was deemed best to extend their stay.”

Jane’s face remained deliberately askance from her sister as she said, “Though Elizabeth might return to Longbourn if she chooses.”

Elizabeth winced at the sharp thrust of this pointed suggestion piercing her beneath her ribs.

She reached for Darcy’s token, which she had transferred to her gown pocket, and squeezed it tightly within her fist. She was tempted to withdraw the stone and fidget with it as she often did when she was anxious, but she had learnt to keep such oddities to herself after years of admonishment for nibbling on her thumb.

She knew she would reach for it the moment she was alone, however.

Mrs Gardiner settled her cup within its saucer with a notable clack.

This was one of the subtle ways her aunt expressed her pique without causing the sort of scene Mrs Bennet was infamous for.

“The matter has already been settled,” she said rather sharply.

“You have been gone from home longer than Lizzy has, so perhaps it is you who would prefer to travel on to Hertfordshire with Sir William and Miss Lucas?”

Jane lowered her head. “No, Aunt.”

The indignant lash of Mrs Gardiner’s tongue in Jane’s direction struck Elizabeth with awe.

She had never seen her aunt so openly angry before anyone other than family—and even amongst her nearest and dearest it was a rarity for the even-keeled lady.

She behaved with expected decorum, yet the snap in her voice could not be denied.

Sir William and Maria appeared uneasy in the wake of her reprimand.

With a clearing of his throat, Mr Gardiner redirected the conversation into safer waters and asked after the health of the Collinses.

Jane’s jaw was clenched so tightly that it was beginning to ache.

Mrs Gardiner was, as ever, on Elizabeth’s side; her favouritism was absolutely appalling.

The pair of them seemed to share some sort of understanding that Jane was excluded from, and this, in turn, led to her aunt always taking Elizabeth’s part in their disagreements.

It had been thus since Mrs Gardiner had married into the family.

Despite what Elizabeth had done, Mrs Gardiner remained her staunch advocate.

If Jane had to listen to her aunt say ‘Lizzy meant well’ one more time, she was liable to scream.

What difference did it make if she ‘meant well’?

The damage had been done and been very nearly irreparable.

Miss Bingley was no aid to her cause, always touting her brother’s supposed understanding with the hated Miss Darcy, and Jane herself had not yet contrived a way to throw herself into Mr Bingley’s path before he had turned up at Gracechurch Street on an otherwise unremarkable Monday morning.

Oh, she was aware that Mr Darcy had informed his friend of her being in town—and that it had been done on Elizabeth’s behalf.

Jane could not find it in herself to care.

The fact of the matter was that she ought to have been married by now and that Elizabeth had been the one to delay her plans, good intentions or not.

All she had done in approaching Mr Darcy—another bit of interference that could have easily gone awry—was mend her own error, which was the least Jane was owed after so much humiliation.

In time, say after being installed as Netherfield’s mistress for at least a year, she might consider forgiving her sister if Elizabeth made a consistent showing of repentance, but until then Jane was unmoved.

For the present, she wished for nothing more than for Elizabeth to go back to Longbourn where she belonged.

Mrs Bennet would keep her there and out of trouble, well away from Mr Bingley until Jane could at last secure him.

Since Mrs Gardiner would not bend, she would be forced to endure her sister’s presence and guard her courtship carefully.

If Elizabeth thought to get close enough again to scare Mr Bingley away, she had another think coming.