Page 3 of The Happiness of a Most Beloved Sister (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

CHAPTER TWO

A fter seeing her sister well-guarded from the cold, Elizabeth supported her down the stairs and to the withdrawing room, where the ladies had gathered after dinner.

Therein, they found Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst, both of whom welcomed Jane with professions of pleasure, and Elizabeth had never seen them so agreeable as they were during the hour that passed before the gentlemen appeared.

They are certainly not so well pleased with my company, Elizabeth mused with some diversion, recalling the cold distance the Superior Sisters had inflicted upon her at the table. Such is the power of Jane’s sweetness, I suppose. None can despise her, even should they wish to.

But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the first object—not with the sisters, at least. While Miss Bingley instantly turned her eyes to Mr Darcy and began plaguing him—and ‘plaguing’ was the only word for it, if Mr Darcy’s frozen expression was anything to go by—with witticisms, her brother made a direct line for Jane .

After bowing over her hand, Mr Bingley bestowed upon Jane a broad smile. “I do hope you are well this evening, Miss Bennet.”

Jane lowered her head demurely, her cheeks flushing a rosy pink. “I am much recovered. I thank you, sir.”

Mr Hurst turned to Jane, mumbled something indistinct, then proceeded to pester his sister-in-law about the card table.

Mr Darcy, with Miss Bingley thus distracted, also offered his congratulations on Jane’s return to good health before dismissing himself to another part of the room.

As he did so, he speared Elizabeth with another one of his haughty glares, and her jaw clenched.

How rude! If he dislikes me so, he ought to spare himself the trouble of looking at me so often.

Mr Bingley pulled a chair closer to Jane’s and proceeded to engage her in soft conversation.

Elizabeth watched them with genuine pleasure, albeit with some lingering uneasiness, until Jane widened her eyes in a subtle message of dismissal.

Feeling suddenly de trop , Elizabeth took this hint and followed Mr Darcy’s example by selecting a book and settling elsewhere.

She continued her observations from afar, occasionally peeking at the couple by the fireside over the top of her book.

Jane appeared most pleased with Mr Bingley, and he with her, but such a promising beginning did not necessarily mean their acquaintance would end well.

Jane had been equally pleased by Mr Wilbur, only to be cast aside like rubbish.

Jane’s humiliation and disappointment over Mr Wilbur’s duplicity had lasted far longer than anyone had expected, and in many ways, it affected her still.

Where once Jane had been open, light-hearted, and animated—albeit always appropriate and ladylike—she had been more withdrawn since that experience.

Charlotte had noticed the change and even mentioned to Elizabeth recently that Jane ought to make more of an effort to secure Mr Bingley by ‘helping him on’ and exposing more of her feelings.

Elizabeth had conceded that this was a good plan for a lady attempting to ensnare any husband at all without concern for her own inclinations, but it would not do for Jane.

No, Jane must be assured of her suitor’s devotion first; only then would she reveal the contents of her heart.

It was only natural after what she had endured in the past.

Seeing her beloved sister so apprehensive made Elizabeth more than a little resentful of Mr Wilbur, who had, after all, been the one to inflict it upon gentle, trusting Jane who wished to think ill of no one but who, after being jilted, had no choice but to question the motives of every gentleman.

How dare he behave thus? How dare he crush Jane’s spirit with his callous disregard?

He had broken something fundamental in Jane’s character, and Elizabeth feared that it would never be wholly repaired.

Mr Bingley did not appear to be of Mr Wilbur’s ilk; to the contrary, there was nothing apparently calculated in his attentions, nor did he stealthily hide their association from society as his predecessor had done.

Furthermore, the sweetness of his temper and general amiability was a good match for Jane; Mr Wilbur had been bolder and more imposing with his lovemaking.

Mr Bingley’s profession that he liked town as well as the country and was often travelling here, there, and yon troubled her somewhat—was he really so unsettled?

—but perhaps Jane could give him the stability he lacked.

And surely, with this malleability that Mr Darcy so disparaged, he would be inclined to dote on his future wife.

So long as he proved constant, Elizabeth very much liked Mr Bingley for Jane.

Until she was certain of it, she would remain vigilant on her sister’s behalf .

After some squabbling between Miss Bingley and Mr Hurst over whether to place the card table, the lady prevailed, and the party settled into a state of enduring ennui.

Only Jane and Mr Bingley seemed wholly pleased with the arrangements, while the rest of them were forced to shift for themselves.

Elizabeth did not mind overmuch, though she dearly wished she had remembered to bring her own book down with her; the ones on offer were not especially to her liking.

Mr Bingley had not been exaggerating when he proclaimed himself a lackadaisical reader.

Mr Darcy was so engrossed in his volume he was able to successfully disregard all of Miss Bingley’s entreaties for notice.

Elizabeth did not know how he comprehended anything he read with her jabbering in his ear like that; she would have been driven to distraction.

Much as Elizabeth despised his arrogance, she almost pitied Mr Darcy for having to endure their hostess’s unremitting attentions.

Curious about what book could possibly be so fascinating and wishing to learn the title, she leant forwards slightly, her gaze fixed upon the spine.

A flash of silvery grey caught her notice, and she realised, belatedly, that Mr Darcy was returning her scrutiny.

Elizabeth immediately withdrew her eyes and buried her nose within the pages of her own book, mortified to be caught staring.

What would Mr Darcy think? That she was admiring him?

Trying to solicit his attention? Heaven forfend!

Unlike Mr Bingley, Mr Darcy was a relatively simple creature to make out.

He might boast the more complex character, but when his every impetus was rooted in pride and disdain, it was not difficult to discern his intentions.

He meant to look down upon them all, and Elizabeth especially, from his high horse.

Whatever his deeper feelings were, he was ostensibly content to keep them to himself and never trouble anyone with confidences or even friendliness.

Yes, Elizabeth had quite the measure of Mr Darcy.

“Lizzy, be a dear and run up to my room and fetch me another shawl. This one is too warm.”

Elizabeth, startled from her musings on Mr Darcy, blinked at her sister a moment before saying, “Are you not concerned about a draught? You have only just become well enough to leave your room.”

Jane’s tone was pointed when she replied, “I am more than warm enough by the fire, and I should like a different shawl.”

Taken aback, Elizabeth merely stared at her a long moment. Mr Bingley seemed no less astonished by Jane’s waspish command.

The gentleman’s startled expression must have recalled Jane to her better self, for her countenance softened. With a conciliatory smile for her sister, she added, “If you would please be so kind.”

Excusing Jane’s behaviour as a sign of her fatigue and not wishing to prolong the dispute, however small, Elizabeth replied, “Of course. I shall only be a moment.”

Before she could rise, Mr Darcy’s baritone halted her in place. “Why not send a servant?”

Jane, who had returned her full smiling attention to Mr Bingley, frowned lightly and turned back. “I beg your pardon?”

Elizabeth, with no little astonishment, also looked to Mr Darcy, who had set his book aside. He refuses to so much as acknowledge Miss Bingley’s increasingly desperate bids for attention, yet he can insert himself into a conversation that has naught to do with him? The nerve !

“It seems to me,” said Mr Darcy, his cutting gaze locked with Jane’s, “that a servant might go just as well as Miss Elizabeth. There is no need to disturb her reading.”

Jane’s nostrils flared slightly, the only sign of her offence.

Her tone remained as light and pleasant as always.

“Elizabeth knows which shawl is my favourite and where it can be located. It would be more trouble to explain the particulars to a servant, which is why I asked my sister for assistance.”

Miss Bingley, who had been watching their dispute at first with resentment and now with palpable glee, threw her opinion into the mix.

“I agree with dear Jane. The simplest solution is to send Miss Eliza for the wanted item.” Mrs Hurst seconded her sister’s notion, while her husband simply snored and disregarded them all.

Mr Bingley’s gaze volleyed between the combatants as if undecided. “Er, ah…I would not want a guest to go to the trouble…perhaps we should call for a maid.”

Jane offered him a placatory smile. “That is entirely unnecessary, sir, for my sister does not mind in the slightest. Do you, Lizzy?” She turned to Elizabeth, eyes wide and mouth tight, silently insisting.

Mr Darcy’s jaw clenched, a muscle flexing just by his ear, and he seemed to want to say more. He glanced at Elizabeth, and she saw the irritation flashing like lightning behind a bank of dark clouds in his eyes. She swallowed reflexively.

Rising, Elizabeth decisively put an end to the dispute. “I do not mind at all, for I should like to stretch my legs after sitting so long in one attitude. I shall be back in a moment.” She then swiftly departed the room, glad to be free of that stifling atmosphere of discord.