“Oh, brother, you are just in the very nick of time!” cried Mrs. Bennet a few days later. The rest of Elizabeth’s family gathered near the carriage to greet the weary travellers.
“The wedding’s not for another two days, sister. All will be well,” said Mr. Gardiner, well accustomed to his sister’s idiosyncrasies.
“Yes, yes, but you must help me,” she continued, taking his arm, the details of some vexing task already spilling forth.
Mr. Bennet was not a man easily given to affection but Elizabeth had always held the larger portion of her father’s heart, and on their greeting, he hugged her.
“I am glad you’re come back, Lizzy,” he said. “Wedding plans have taken over the entire household. I’ve had not a word of sense from anybody since Jane said ‘yes’.”
Elizabeth laughed.
“It’s good to be home,” she said, with no small feeling. “But where is Jane?”
“She’s off on some errand with Mr. Bingley’s sisters,” replied Mr. Bennet. “Wedding fripperies, dresses and fabrics. I’m up to my neck in it. When you’ve had a moment to rest, come walk with me in the garden, will you? I want to hear all about Mr. and Mrs. Charleton, for we have never met and given Mrs. Gardiner’s inestimable good sense, I’ve imagined they must have retained all the bad.”
“Of course I’ll walk with you,” she said, smiling. “Although I’ve nothing but good things to report from that quarter.”
“Then what possible use are you to me?” he asked. “What is the purpose of travelling so far to meet new people if one cannot abuse them properly on returning home again? Nevermind, then, girl. Go see your sisters. We’ll talk after all this wedding business is passed, assuming we all survive it.” Mr. Bennet began to return to the house, when something occurred to him. He turned back.
“Elizabeth, I think perhaps I ought to warn you,” he said, banked amusement written all over his countenance. “Mrs. Bennet is rather put out with you for losing the eye of the Earl of Matlock. She has declared herself determined never to speak to you again, which as you know means you’d best be on guard. She’ll accost you at the first opportunity, I am sure of it.”
“Ah,” said Elizabeth sadly. “Thank you for the warning, papa. I’ll find her and apologize again.”
“You’ve nothing to apologize for, child,” he said, his earlier amusement gone. “Your feelings are yours, and you of all my children know better than to let them be swayed by something so silly as a title.” His humor returned. Much like Elizabeth’s, it couldn’t be dampened for long. “Besides, he’s only an earl. You ought to remind your mother you’re holding out for a duke.”
“Go on, then,” said Elizabeth, laughing again.
Mrs. Bennet must have been cross indeed. Elizabeth and the Gardiners had been at Longbourn half a day and she’d not yet had a single word from her mother, except a request to pass the salt at luncheon, and even that was spoken most begrudgingly for no one else at the table would oblige her.
Jane returned home after dining with the Bingleys that evening. Coming into the sitting room where everyone was playing cards, she hugged Elizabeth tightly in greeting.
“Oh, Lizzy, I am so, so happy to see you,” she said.
“I missed you, sister mine,” said Elizabeth. As Jane stepped back, she added with a smile, “But I rather think you’d be happy just now seeing me or not.”
“I am glad not to have to test your theory at present,” said Jane, beaming. “I confess, I think I am the happiest woman in the world.”
“As you should be, for there’s not a soul breathing who deserves it more than you,” said Elizabeth.
“But what is the matter?” asked Jane. “I know you like to tease me, Lizzy, but you seem sad. What is wrong?”
The rest of the room carried on with their talking and card-playing. No one paid the sisters any heed, but the slightest hint of trouble and Lydia’s ears would perk.
“Nothing at all, dear,” said Elizabeth.
“I expect you’re tired from your trip,” said Jane, nodding. She gave Elizabeth a pointed look.
“Of course,” said Elizabeth. She whispered, “I’m fine. We’ll talk later.”
As they rejoined the others, it occurred to Elizabeth that she and Jane may not have time later to speak at all. The wedding was two days hence, and there was still much to be done.
“Lizzy, there you are,” said Lydia, as though Elizabeth had not occupied the same room for nearly half an hour. “Mr. Collins arrives tomorrow. I do hope you’ve prepared yourself.” Kitty tittered; Mary sniffed from behind her book.
“How do you mean, Lydia?”
“He’s quite cross with you,” said Kitty. “Father’s had three letters from him since you left for Newcastle.”
“It’s true,” said Mr. Bennet. “The grandiloquent Mr. Collins has volumes to convey on any subject.”
“I suppose it’s too much to hope that this grandiloquence was not spent on my connection with the Earl of Matlock,” said Elizabeth quietly to her father.
“Oh, yes,” said Lydia. “He’s got loads to say about you and his lordship.”
“Do not trouble yourself about the letters, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet without lowering his papers. “I daresay the man will save you the trouble of reading them and expend himself to the task of acquainting you with their contents when he arrives tomorrow.”
The house was abuzz with activity after breakfast the next morning. Mr. Collins had not yet arrived but Mr. Bingley’s sisters were already in attendance, ostensibly to lend hands to ceremony preparation. Elizabeth discovered Miss Bingley’s true motives for coming soon enough.
“Miss Eliza Bennet,” cried Miss Bingley as the sisters sat. “How changed you are since I saw you last so many weeks ago.”
“It is a pleasure to see you again, Miss Bingley,” said Elizabeth.
“I hear you met with our mutual friend during your travels,” said Miss Bingley.
“If you mean the earl,” said Elizabeth, concealing any reaction. “Yes, we met him in Derbyshire. He joined us for part of our trip.”
“And then you were bound up in that awful storm,” said Miss Bingley, shaking her head at theatrically. “How very dreadful for you both.”
“It was an adventure, to be sure,” said Elizabeth. Clearly Miss Bingley had something particular point to press. She’d not bother engaging Elizabeth in conversation otherwise.
“I know all about it, you see,” said Miss Bingley. She watched Elizabeth carefully as she spoke. “He’s been at Netherfield all week, you know. Matlock, I mean. I can’t imagine what drove him from Newcastle with such haste, but I’m so very glad it did.” She laughed. Elizabeth smiled without feeling.
“In any case,” continued Miss Bingley, lowering her voice. “I shall tell you, because we are such very good friends and I know I may rely on your strictest confidence. Once your sister’s happiness is secured tomorrow, I have good reason to believe my own will soon follow!”
Elizabeth was spared giving an immediate reply by a noisy argument erupting between Lydia and Kitty at the far side of the room. Miss Bingley turned to look and sneered her distaste at the young women, attempting to conceal her reaction with a smile as she turned back to Elizabeth.
“You understand me, don’t you Miss Eliza?”
“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Miss Bingley,” said Elizabeth. To speak the lie required all the composure at her disposal. “I’m glad to hear of any felicity that finds you, but I know nothing of the specifics in this case.”
Miss Bingley leaned in, her voice now nearly a whisper. “I can appreciate your delicacy in the matter, truly I can. I shall not speak of it in company until the news is published, but you and I have always been such good friends, I cannot conceal it from you. I have reason to believe Matlock – that is, our friend Darcy – intends to make me an offer!”
To Elizabeth’s mind, the intervening moments were dolorous and slow in their passing. She noted from a distance the triumph on Miss Bingley’s face, her exultation mounting at whatever she saw in Elizabeth’s own countenance. Elizabeth forced an approximation of a smile as Miss Bingley resumed her seat and began talking of Bingley’s intended wedding attire in normal tones.
Elizabeth heard not a word. She was too late. She ought to have been more forthcoming; she ought to have told Darcy the truth about Henry Charleton, that he’d been no more to her than pleasant company. She ought to have told him when she was free to do so that there was no room in her heart for any other man, not when it every moment wished for Fitzwilliam Darcy.