“Why on earth would he want to go to Netherfield?” Elizabeth asked, turning to Jane.
“I have no idea,” Jane replied tiredly. “But I would prefer to think of that in the morning. I have had quite enough activity for one day.”
“Agreed,” Elizabeth said fervently. She looped her arm around Jane’s. “Let us go to bed and put this awful night behind us.”
They began to walk up the path towards the door when it burst open and a woman in nightclothes hurried toward them.
“Jane! Lizzy!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, throwing herself into their arms. “What on earth are you doing here? When you didn’t arrive before dark, we assumed you had stayed one more night with my brother! Or at an inn on the road!” She did not pause for explanation, but instead moved onto the question she was obviously eager to ask. “Who was that man?” She began to pull her daughters toward the door.
“I did not hear his name,” Jane admitted. “Lizzy?”
“His name is…” But she stopped. She knew he had told her, they had made proper introductions. But her mind was blank. She could not recall what he had said. “I cannot remember his name,” she admitted. “But for some reason, he is going to Netherfield.”
“Netherfield!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. “Did you hear that, Mr. Bennet?” Elizabeth saw her father standing in the doorway of the house, still fully dressed as she knew he would be. The candle burned in the window of his study, and Elizabeth knew he relished the quiet of night to read without distraction.
“I heard, my dear,” Mr. Bennet said. “But right now, I am far more concerned about why my eldest daughters come home in the middle of the night, half-dead with exhaustion, their coachman looking as if someone used his face to pound nails!”
“Oh, Papa,” Elizabeth said, pulling away from Mrs. Bennet to hug her father. He held a candle in one hand, but he squeezed her tight with his free arm. She felt strengthened by his embrace.
“We are quite well, I assure you,” she said into his chest.
“I am glad to hear it,” he said. “But I will hear what has happened.”
“It was two highwaymen,” Jane said quietly. “But I am sure they would not have hurt us.”
“What?” Mrs. Bennet yelped, grabbing the candle from Mr. Bennet’s grip and using it to look at her daughters closely. “You were robbed? Oh, my poor girls!”
The arm holding the candle began to droop, and Elizabeth seized the candle before it dropped to the ground.
“I do not know if my nerves could handle if anything happened to you!” Mrs. Bennet burst into tears and draped herself over Jane.
Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth helped Jane lead Mrs. Bennet into the sitting room and deposit her into a chair. Jane immediately knelt beside her mother and began to whisper reassurances. Mr. Bennet pulled Elizabeth slightly away.
“What happened?” He asked quietly. “The whole truth, if you please. You do me no favours to spare me details.”
Elizabeth nodded, swallowing hard.
“We were attacked,” she said in a whisper. “They sprung upon us and had knocked the coachman to the ground before we knew what was happening. While one held him, a second attempted to relieve us of our valuables.”
“How could the driver be taken in such a manner?” Mr. Bennet demanded angrily. “It is his job to protect his passengers!”
“Do not blame him, Papa,” Elizabeth said, laying a hand on his arm. “It is not his fault. You know as well as I that there have been no highwaymen in this area for years! It is not something anyone would have expected, especially not with the militia in Meryton.”
Mr. Bennet gave a huge sigh and rubbed his face with both hands. “I suppose you’re right,” he said, his voice muffled by his hands. He stopped rubbing and looked at Elizabeth with shining eyes. “I just cannot bear to think that you might have been hurt.”
Elizabeth felt touched by her father’s display of emotion and felt the stresses of the night finally catch up with her. Despite her best efforts, she felt tears begin to fall down her face.
“We were so scared,” she admitted. “But a gentleman came at just the right moment. He had a pistol, and the highwaymen decided he was not worth the effort of fighting.” She smiled at the memory. “I believe his horse stepped on one of them.”
“Good,” Mr. Bennet said fiercely. “They deserve it! And tomorrow, I shall visit the magistrate. Such lawlessness cannot be allowed to stand.”
“A fine idea,” Elizabeth agreed, wiping the tears from her face and gathering herself once more.
“But who was the man?” Mr. Bennet asked.
“I cannot remember his name,” Elizabeth said, embarrassed. “The excitement has completely robbed my memory. But I do know he was headed to Netherfield.”
“It must be the man who has let Netherfield!” Mrs. Bennet’s voice broke into the conversation. “From the glimpse I had of him, he was obviously a gentleman. And obviously rich.” Mrs. Bennet’s tears were quite gone, replaced by a calculating look.
“Someone has let Netherfield?” Jane asked.
“It’s about time,” Elizabeth added. “It has been empty for ages.”
The door to the sitting room opened and Mary, Kitty and Lydia came into the room, yawning and rubbing the sleep from their eyes.
“What’s going on?” Lydia asked crossly. “All this noise woke us up.” She looked at her elder sisters without greeting them. Elizabeth was not surprised. Lydia may dislike going to bed, but she hated being stirred from sleep once it came.
“Welcome home, Jane, Lizzy,” Mary said, making up for Lydia’s lapse.
“All this for them coming home? Not that I’m not glad to see you,” Lydia conceded.
“It seems as if your sisters have met Mr. Bingley!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed.
“Who on earth is Mr. Bingley?” Jane asked, clearly confused.
“The man who rescued you!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. “The one who has let Netherfield. The one who has five thousand a year!” Elizabeth heard the emphasis her mother placed upon five thousand. This Mr. Bingley was rich indeed.
“You met Mr. Bingley?” Kitty and Lydia asked at once, envy in their voices.
“Lizzy, did he say his name was Bingley?” Jane asked, looking for confirmation.
Elizabeth rubbed her head, the excitement around her feeling suddenly overwhelming.
“I do not know,” she said slowly. Had he said Bingley? It sounded possible, but she couldn’t be certain. “Perhaps he said his name was Bingley? I don’t know, I think maybe his name started with a ‘D’…”
“Of course, it was Mr. Bingley,” Mrs. Bennet said, waving away Elizabeth’s uncertainty. “He was a gentleman headed toward Netherfield. Who else could it be? And you have met him already! How wonderful. Yes, this is just as I had hoped.”
“You hoped that our daughters would be beset by highway brutes?” Mr. Bennet asked dryly. “And require rescue?”
“Don’t be silly, Mr. Bennet,” Mrs. Bennet snapped. “You know well enough that I intend for him to marry one of our girls, for why else has he come to the country but to find a wife? That he should encounter our girls in such an exciting manner is better than I possibly could have imagined.”
“Highway brutes?” Kitty asked, surprised. “We did not hear that. What happened?”
When no one answered her question, she began to pout.
Elizabeth exchanged a look with Jane. Jane looked startled, but Elizabeth was not. There was little else on their mother’s mind these days besides matchmaking and marriage.
“Perhaps next time,” Mr. Bennet said without amusement, “we could put all the girls in danger. Now that should have the suitors lining up. For every man desires to be a hero.”
“You tease me, Mr. Bennet,” Mrs. Bennet replied, not hearing the edge in her husband’s voice. Elizabeth could tell her father was not pleased that her mother so easily dismissed the ordeal she and Jane had endured. “But when you die, it is us that shall be tossed on the street! And you are no longer young…”
“Before you have me in my grave,” Mr. Bennet said loudly, talking over his wife, “I would like a good night’s sleep, if at all possible.”
“I cannot believe you got to meet Mr. Bingley first,” Lydia said, envy thick in her voice. “Papa only visited him yesterday!”
“Tell us about the highwaymen,” Kitty said pleadingly. Elizabeth ignored her again.
“I gladly would trade the experience with you,” Elizabeth said darkly. Her father had visited Mr. Bingley yesterday? Then why was he so far from Netherfield today? Elizabeth shook her head, she had no desire to further dissect their encounter. “Next time, you may face the highwaymen.”
“She does not mean it like that, Lizzy,” Jane said quietly, and Elizabeth immediately felt herself fill with shame. She had allowed her fatigue to make her unkind.
“I know,” Elizabeth sighed. “Lydia, I apologise. I am quite tired.”
If Lydia, who had crossed her arms and thrown herself into a chair, accepted her apology, Elizabeth could not tell. She rubbed her temples, her head aching, and she wanted nothing more than to go to bed.
“It is no matter,” Mrs. Bennet said in a soothing tone to her younger daughters. “You shall all have a chance to meet him in a few days. He told your father that he will be attending the Meryton Assembly!”
Elizabeth dropped her hand from her head slowly, glancing at her mother. The Assembly? In just a few days? She would get to see him again in just a few days?
“We still do not know if it even was Mr. Bingley,” Jane pointed out. “Papa, could you see him before he left?”
Elizabeth turned to her father, trying to hide her eagerness. She scolded herself. There was no reason to be eager. He was just a stranger they met on the road; there was no reason for her heart to start beating faster when she thought of him. No reason at all.
“I don’t know,” Mr. Bennet said with a yawn. “I was still in my study when he rode away. You may talk of this until dawn if you wish, but I am going to find my bed.”
Elizabeth yawned as well, suddenly feeling as though she might fall asleep on her feet.
“A fine idea, Papa,” Elizabeth agreed, stretching and following Mr. Bennet towards the sitting room door. Elizabeth saw Jane stand and kiss her mother’s cheek goodnight. Elizabeth halted and went to kiss her mother as well. She was, after all, quite glad to be home.
“I want to hear about what happened to Lizzy and Jane,” Kitty whined one last time.
“Tomorrow,” Jane promised, finally answering the younger girl.
This seemed to placate Kitty, for she too began to head for bed. At this point, everyone decided they may as well go upstairs. Kitty, Mary and Lydia walked with the candle they had lit to come downstairs, while Mr. Bennet led his wife and other daughters through the dark house.
At the top of the stairs, Mr. Bennet turned to Jane and Elizabeth and kissed both their cheeks. “I am glad you are home, and overjoyed to have you safe,” he whispered to them.
“I am happy to be home as well, Papa,” Jane said and Elizabeth murmured her agreement.
Mary, before disappearing into her room, gave Jane and Elizabeth the lit candle, so they could prepare for bed.
“See you in the morning,” Mary said as a goodnight.
Jane and Elizabeth opened the door to their room and Elizabeth saw, wonderfully, the bed was ready for them to crawl into. Setting the candle down on a table in front of the mirror, Elizabeth sunk down onto the soft bed with a sigh.
“Lizzy,” Jane asked quietly. “Are you truly fine? You were so brave on the road… Keeping us safe while I was frozen with terror!”
“I was terrified as well,” Elizabeth said, not looking Jane in the eye. The tears that first appeared with Mr. Bennet reappeared. “I was so afraid that they would hurt us, hurt you, and I had no idea what to do… I have never felt so helpless.”
Jane sat down beside her sister, tears on her face as well. She put her arms around Elizabeth, and Elizabeth felt all of the stress of the night come to the surface and she cried into Jane’s shoulder. She knew Jane cried as well, it was just so much.
“I’m sorry I did not ask after you in the coach,” Jane whispered, after both their tears had dried up. “I could hardly think at all, but I should have thought about you.”
“I was hardly in the mood to talk,” Elizabeth assured her sister. She had been thinking the same thing, that she should have asked after Jane in the carriage.
“It is lucky that this Mr. Bingley came along,” Jane said, standing up and beginning to ready for bed.
“Yes,” Elizabeth agreed firmly.
“I shall look forward to thanking him again at the Assembly,” Jane continued.
“Yes, I am sure he will have the attentions of the whole of the Bennet family,” Elizabeth said, dread already filling her. Her mother and sisters could be quite overwhelming. She felt sorry for the man in advance.
“I do not think it is to be avoided,” Jane agreed. Silence filled the air as the sisters continued to prepare for bed. It seemed as if they were too tired to talk more. They slipped beneath the covers and Elizabeth blew out the candle.
“He was quite handsome,” Jane said after they lay in the dark for a few minutes.
“Was he?” Elizabeth asked, glad that Jane could not see her for her cheeks heated up. “I hardly noticed in all the excitement.”
“Oh, yes. And very tall,” Jane said. “And his eyes were quite striking.” Elizabeth could hear the amusement in her sister’s voice.
“I had not noticed,” Elizabeth said stubbornly, knowing that she lied.
“Well, I hope you notice at the Assembly,” Jane said, turning on her side and settling down for sleep. “For I am quite certain that he noticed you.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again. She had no desire to continue this conversation. And besides, Jane was mistaken. There were far more pressing things to notice this night than her. Jane would see the truth of things at the Assembly.
No, this Mr. Bingley, if that was indeed his name, would take no notice of her. She was certain of it, but could not understand why that made her sad. She closed her eyes and sleep overwhelmed her before she could give the matter any more thought.