Mrs. Bingley’s Sister (The Austen Novels)

Chapter 23

December 1819

Pemberley Estate

Derbyshire

Elizabeth heard a knock at her door, stirring her.

"It's me, Miss," she heard Sarah say through the door. The door then creaked open slowly, and Elizabeth heard her maid come in. She barely opened her eyes and saw Sarah fussing around the room

"Miss, we must prepare for dinner," she said. Elizabeth closed her eyes.

"Oh, Sarah," she lamented, "How am I to survive these next many weeks?”

Elizabeth opened her eyes and sat up to look at her maid, saying in some slow amazement, “He said I am everything a lady should be. What can he mean by it?”

Sarah smiled and said, “It sounds as if he still admires you, Miss.”

“I am surely imagining it.”

"I saw the man let you out of the carriage—he practically pushed Mr. Bingley out of the way!"

Elizabeth laughed and shook her head. "No, it isn't true."

"I am telling you the very truth, ma'am."

Elizabeth let out a romantic sigh, a slight smile on her face from the memory of his words earlier. She had confessed all to Sarah some months after that single visit Darcy made before little Jack was born three years ago. It had been a relief to tell someone the entirety of it, someone she could trust—Jane was trustworthy, to be sure, but she was busy being a mistress and a mother, and Elizabeth never wanted to bother her dear sister with her dashed hopes. It would only bring Jane into melancholy, and that was always the last thing Elizabeth wanted to cause.

But when Sarah walked in on her crying one day, many months after Jack's precarious birth, she sat and merely listened while Elizabeth explained through tears everything that had happened: her prejudice against the man, his admiration, the proposal she refused, the horrid way she refused it, the letter, her realization of who he was, and every little thing that had occurred since, which wasn't much—except that he might have admitted to her his feelings had lied elsewhere when the decision to marry Anne de Bourgh came along.

"It is quite foolish of me, you see," she had said that day, "to have been pining for such a man for as long as this—and I scarcely even admitted it aloud to myself until that visit he made, right before little Jack was born—but Sarah I promise you, he almost told me, no, he did tell me that he never married Anne de Bourgh, the lady he was supposed to marry, because his feelings lied elsewhere. That is what he had been going to say, I just know it, but we never were able to finish the conversation."

Sarah had sat next to her, a loving hand rubbing Elizabeth's back as she spoke. Elizabeth pulled her head from her hands and looked at her.

"Please do not reveal any of my folly to anyone, I beg of you, Sarah, dear," Elizabeth said. Sarah took her hands.

"Miss, your secret is safe with me. But can I tell you something?"

Elizabeth nodded, wiping her eyes. Sarah used her hand and tucked a loose strand of Elizabeth's hair behind her ear.

Then she said, "The way I see it, ma'am, if he hasn't married at all by now, why—it sounds to me like he might very well still love you, Miss."

Elizabeth had let out a tired laugh and shook her head. "I cannot hold out hope for such a thing."

"You may not, but I shall."

That had made Elizabeth laugh, and very soon she was recovered from her crying spell. They hardly spoke of it again.

But when they received the invitation for a Christmastime house party at Pemberley, Sarah hadn't been able to stop speculating about it.

"Do you not think, Miss, that he has invited the Bingleys in order to once again be reunited with you?" she had asked when they first heard the news. Elizabeth couldn't allow herself to wonder along such lines, and she told Sarah so. It did not bother her maid—

"I shall wonder then, shan't I, ma'am? If you will not, I very well will."

And now here they were, at Pemberley, preparing for dinner, Sarah doing her hair in a very special way.

"What are you doing to my hair?"

"Do you dislike it?"

"No, no, I am just wondering what you're getting at, making me look so pretty—"

"Miss, I am not going to explain the obvious," she answered with a wink. "The master here shall notice you, although admittedly, he needs no help in noticing, in my very own opinion, Miss."

"Just don't make me look too overdone. I don't want to draw any undo attention to myself. I have yet to meet Miss Darcy, I mean, Mrs. Llewellyn. She has been married many a year, yet I still think of her as Darcy's young sister."

"Who was almost seduced by that nasty brother-in-law of yours," Sarah added. Elizabeth turned and gave her a wide-eyed look.

"Sarah! Do not you dare speak of such things!"

"Sorry, Miss, I won't. What is he like though, that man?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I have no fondness for the man. He is a beguiler and skilled one, at that. I haven't seen him since before he married my sister. They live far north, and you know we only hear from Lydia when she needs money. I highly doubt he has a regular income."

"Was he handsome?"

Elizabeth gave Sarah a look, who laughed and apologized.

"To answer your question," Elizabeth said with a grin and a shake of her head, "Yes, he was quite handsome."

"Handsomer than Mr. Darcy?"

"Oh, goodness no," Elizabeth cried, with a laugh. "I do not think any man is handsomer than Mr. Darcy."

And the two continued on in this friendly way, until Elizabeth was ready to descend. There was a knock at the door, and Jane's voice broke through.

"Lizzy? Are you ready?"

"Yes, Jane," she replied, and Sarah opened the door for her. Jane beamed at Elizabeth when she saw her.

"Why, Lizzy, you look so lovely!" she exclaimed, then looked at Bingley, "Mr. Bingley, does she not look exceedingly good?"

"Indeed," Bingley said, offering his arm, "I shall be the envy of the house party for having the two most beautiful ladies on my arm as we descend."

The sisters laughed, and they all made their way down, Elizabeth feeling no little nervousness at the prospect of seeing Darcy again, but feeling beautiful, very beautiful indeed.