“Mama! There is a rather fine carriage coming along the drive! And two gentlemen on horseback accompany it.”
Kitty’s voice roused Jane, and she raised her head from the letter she was writing as Mrs Bennet got agitatedly to her feet.
“Is it Mr Bingley? You sly thing, Jane; I thought you said he had commitments that would prevent him attending us this evening.” She turned on her eldest daughter, whose bemused expression conveyed her feelings precisely.
“Why would Mr Bingley take the carriage to visit us, Mama? It does not make any sense.”
Waving her response aside with a fluttering hand, Mrs Bennet hurried to the window seat where Kitty was perched with her needlework and peered out in the direction of the gravel driveway.
“Why, it truly is a fine carriage.” She frowned as she pressed her face against the glass. “Though it is rather dusty.” She straightened up and turned around, raising her chin. “Your father would never send our carriage out in such a condition, that is to be certain.”
Jane shook her head but said nothing and returned her attention to her letter. It was late in the day to be receiving a call, but no doubt the visitors would be announced soon enough, and that was sufficient for her.
Mrs Bennet turned to tidy her hair in the drawing room mirror. “Kitty, put your work away and summon Mary and Lydia. And get Hill to bring more candles – the beeswax. This instant!”
Kitty did as she was bid and soon returned with her sisters in tow, though as yet no one had been announced, and Mrs Bennet’s impatience was spiralling by the second.
“If your father takes the visitors into his library, I shall never forgive him. If there are gentlemen visiting, they must pay their respects to me – to us. It is all very well having you settled, Jane, but I have four other daughters in need of a situation, and with the loss of Mr Wickham…”
Jane tuned out her mother’s voice, having heard the lament all too frequently, and got to her feet to peer out of the window. The carriage and its escort had pulled up near the front door, and the steps had been lowered, but in the falling dusk it was impossible to discern who the callers were until someone appeared in the doorway of the conveyance and, with a smothered gasp, Jane put a hand to her mouth.
Turning around, she smiled at her mother, who was now fanning herself with a handkerchief. “Let me go and see, Mama. I shall return directly.”
Letting herself from the room as Hill entered with the candles, Jane paused on the other side of the closed doors and let out a sigh of relief. Elizabeth was home!
Hurrying along the hallway to the front door, she emerged from the house into the cool evening air just as her sister rushed into her embrace with an ecstatic, “Jane!”
Having returned Elizabeth’s hug, she set herself up from the embrace, quickly recognising the people stood near the carriage, and she curtseyed formally.
“Mr Darcy; Colonel Fitzwilliam; Miss Darcy.”
Darcy acknowledged her. “Miss Bennet. We have much pleasure in delivering your sister safely home.”
“For which I thank you, Sir; she has been greatly missed. Though, Lizzy,” Jane turned to her sister. “We understood you to be in Somerset with the Haringtons. How come you to be here?”
“’Tis a long story, Jane, and I shall satisfy your curiosity directly, but we have journeyed far and my companions have yet a few miles to go for they are Netherfield bound, so let us see them on their way.”
Elizabeth took her leave of the Colonel, who then led his horse over to the stone mounting block, and she turned to speak to his cousin.
Jane exchanged some pleasantries with Miss Darcy, but could not quite account for the look of suppressed excitement upon her features, or the distraction in her manner and, seeing that her attention had drifted towards her brother, Jane turned about to observe him.
She blinked rapidly; if she was not mistaken, Mr Darcy had just bestowed a kiss upon her sister’s hand, and though Elizabeth’s face was somewhat averted, there was deep colour in her cheeks, and she appeared reluctant to step away from the gentleman. Jane looked quickly at Miss Darcy to see if she had noticed anything untoward, but to her surprise, the girl was no longer at her side. She had dashed forward and thrown herself into Elizabeth’s embrace, something that clearly surprised her sister, though she quickly returned the gesture and laughed.
“Dear Georgiana! We shall see each other on the morrow!”
The young lady stepped back and grasped Elizabeth’s hand. “But I am so happy for you-” she stopped, throwing a conscious look at her brother and then another over at Jane, who narrowed her gaze, her curiosity at its height.
Darcy ushered Georgiana into the carriage and, with one long meaningful stare at Elizabeth, he mouthed something at her that Jane failed to detect, though her sister looked vastly pleased by it, and regained his mount before joining his cousin, and the party set off back down the drive.
For a moment, both girls watched its progress in silence. Then, unable to bear the suspense any longer, Jane threw her sister a quick glance. “Do you have something you wish to share with me, Lizzy?”
Biting her lip to contain a smile, Elizabeth turned and linked her arm through her sister’s as they walked into the house. “Let me greet Mama, Jane. Then, we shall be at liberty to go upstairs and talk to our hearts’ content.”
~o0o~
It did not take long for Elizabeth to acquaint Jane with her news, but before she did, she expressed her own delight over her sister’s engagement to Bingley and her happiness to see her beloved Jane so content.
Accepting her congratulations, Jane quickly turned her attention to Elizabeth and Darcy. Having observed her sister’s growing interest in the gentleman during their time in Town, she was not overly surprised by her sister’s change in opinion though she did press Elizabeth for confirmation that she was happy with her choice, such a short period having passed since her rejection of the same gentleman.
Elizabeth took little time in recounting how her feelings had changed over recent weeks and how it was that both she and Mr Darcy had come to be in Bath. She emphasised how fortunate she felt to be loved by such a man and spoke eloquently of her affection for him in return. Jane was soon appeased and thus more than content, for her only qualm over accepting the hand of Bingley had been that she would be leaving behind her dearest sister and companion in a household that would be all the more intolerable for Elizabeth with her absence.
“When does Mr Darcy propose speaking to Papa?”
Elizabeth got to her feet and walked over to the window, staring out over the parkland of Longbourn wistfully. Never before had she returned home from a sojourn elsewhere and wished she had not come. Even now, she longed to be with Darcy, no matter where he was: Bath or Netherfield, either would suffice. To be at Longbourn and distant from him, three miles or no, was perfectly intolerable.
She released a sigh, and then turned to face her sister. “I believe he intends to ride over in the morning. We have been on the road all day, and he did not wish to enter into such an interview now; besides, I think it best if I speak to Papa myself first.”
“You intend to tell him you are engaged?”
“Good heavens, no – I do not!” Elizabeth laughed and walked over to re-join her sister who remained perched on the edge of the bed. “I would not wish to so fully undermine Mr Darcy; yet though Papa must know that I have revised my opinion of the gentleman somewhat since I was last at home, I feel it might be wise to relate some of our more recent encounters. Mr Darcy advised me last evening that he felt Papa was none too pleased to hear of the amount of time we had spent in his company of late when he was not aware of it. I think I had, perhaps, at best explain our meeting unexpectedly in Bath, though I am at a loss over how to account for my sudden return home!”
“I think he will be so relieved to see you, it will not trouble him!”
“Mama seemed completely disinterested, did she not? I suspect she was relieved that Mr Darcy did not call upon her.” Elizabeth shook her head. “I fear the worst, Jane. She never liked him and has shown no discretion in making that known, not only amongst her own acquaintance, but even in his company. I know neither how she will take the news, nor what expression she may make of it to him.”
Jane patted her consolingly on the hand before getting to her feet.
“Be thankful, Lizzy, for her aversion. Her fawning over Bingley since his declaration knows no bounds. Though Mr Collins is our father’s blood, not hers, you would be excused for believing the contrary.”
“Oh dear!” Elizabeth watched her sister as she pulled the bell for hot water to be brought. “I am so sorry, Jane. Is it truly awful?”
With a shrug, Jane walked over to the chest against the far wall and extracted a bathing sheet, offering it to her sister. “Bingley has the patience of a saint, but there are times when I detect that he is sorely tried. Perhaps now he has company, he will be here less; certainly, I shall be able to pay a call at Netherfield now, which before I could not!”
Elizabeth smiled and got to her feet as a servant came in with a pitcher, and Jane left her sister to refresh herself, returning downstairs to await her.
Turning towards the washstand, Elizabeth sighed. Her father’s reaction to her engagement was hard to predict and, having learned more from Darcy of his last interview with Mr Bennet, she could not, even with all her knowledge of him, ascertain whether he would be pleased or disgruntled by the intelligence.
Staring into the mirror as she lowered her hands into the bowl of water, Elizabeth bit her lip. Whatever the outcome, she would do all in her power to ensure a smooth ride for Darcy the next day, and with that in mind, she made haste to refresh herself and hurried downstairs to attend her father in his library.
~o0o~
Bingley’s greeting had been all that Darcy could wish. Their friendship being of such long-standing, the Express requesting that he and his family visit for a short duration had been a pleasure rather than an inconvenience, and as Bingley had been rattling around in solitary fashion since his return, he was delighted to have some company and, what was more, of the very best sort.
Darcy’s letter had suggested that no mention be made of their visit prior to their arrival, a postscript that had puzzled Bingley. The knowledge that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was homeward bound, something that would bring such joy to his dear Jane, was something he was loath to keep secret, but as his friend’s arrival was imminent he found himself able to comply with the request without too much struggle and instead went about engaging further household staff to assist with the influx of guests.
Happily accepting the congratulations of his visitors on his successful application for Jane Bennet’s hand, Bingley had shown them to their rooms and bade them restore themselves before joining him in the drawing room for some pre-supper refreshments.
~o0o~
Thomas Bennet was a man of mixed parts – intelligent and educated, his greatest regret in life was the foolish infatuation that had bound him swiftly and irrevocably to Frances Gardiner. Yet the union – so dissatisfying on many levels – had its consolations. Like many a person in a less than idyllic marriage, how could he regret the progeny of the union, the lives that would not exist without its occurrence?
Contrary to appearances, he did love all his daughters, though not in equal measure and, without doubt, the depth of that love was tempered by his tolerance levels. Yet, though the younger three girls did try his patience, he loved them still, and despite his affinity for his second eldest, her mind being so much more agile, they all held a charge on him in his interest for their future.
Loath though he was to admit it to his wife, her desire to see one of them well-settled was one of her more rational notions. He was not blind also to his own failings in this regard, that had he been more sensible over the business opportunities of his estate, their dowries would not be quite so slender a morsel. His contentment in seeing his eldest engaged to a man of substance was appropriate to the benefit it would draw down upon the others. That it might quieten his wife’s excesses, exacerbated ever since Jane had become of marriageable age, he held little hope for.
Getting wearily to his feet, he walked over to the only wall in his library that was not encased with bookshelves. Here, between the two windows, hung a collection of miniatures of his children taken over the preceding years.
As was often the case, his eye was drawn to one of Elizabeth, and he frowned. His daughter’s unanticipated presence earlier that day had been sufficient surprise for one day; learning that she had been conveyed thither by the Darcys had been one he could have done without. His last encounter with that gentleman, though he had brought valuable intelligence and done them a vast service, still rankled. The memory of several weeks of that young man’s taciturn manner last autumn was insufficient to be supplanted by a half hour in his company whilst discussing a particularly unsavoury matter.
Yet Elizabeth had earlier been at pains to explain that Mr Darcy – who they all knew to be a proud, arrogant and unfeeling sort – was nothing of the kind if you really knew him, and his suspicions were aroused. His daughter was hiding something from him and, coupled with her championing of Mr Darcy, he could not help but suspect that she had developed a fondness for a man who was too far above her.
As the supper bell sounded, Mr Bennet turned away from the miniatures with a sigh and walked towards the door. He only hoped Elizabeth would recover quickly from her interest in the gentleman and, though he would not deny Jane the pleasure of happiness in marriage, he could not help but regret that Mr Bingley had ever brought his friend into the neighbourhood at all.