Chapter Twelve
“Jane! Are you up here? Miss Jane?”
Jane looked up from the trunk full of old clothes and sundries that Mrs Nicholls directed her to when Jane informed her that she wished to give Mrs Bingley something to thank her for her hospitality, but had no funds with which to do so.
Mrs Nicholls said that there were antiquated but stunningly beautiful items in the trunks left by previous residents that perhaps she could make up new, and Jane was of the hope that she could find something worth embroidering for her hostess.
“I am here, Lizzy!” she called as Elizabeth entered the attics.
“Mrs Nicholls thought I might find something that I could turn into an acceptable gift for Mrs Bingley. Look at this wrap! So well stored and preserved! Not a moth hole in sight! Have you ever seen such a lovely blend of silk and cashmere?” Jane held up a shimmering white wrap that must have belonged to one of the previous families of the house.
“Do you think that Mrs Bingley would mind if I embroidered this and gave it to her as a thank you for all her kindness? Is it even appropriate to give her a wrap from her own attic?”
“I think it is a lovely idea, and Jane would be so touched by the gesture,” Elizabeth answered. “She sets great store by her needle work, and admires yours greatly. I think she would be very happy to be presented with some of your work.”
“Now I only need to see what Mrs Nicholls has for thread,” Jane mused. “She told me I could look through her sewing box.”
“You know, there is a very fine dark green embroidery thread in my sewing box–which is–I fear–terribly neglected.” Elizabeth inspected the wrap admiringly.
“If you used that, it would complement the green gown she plans to wear to the ball. There are even some lovely little seed pearls and beads I never used because I have never enjoyed sewing, particularly. You must come and take what you like!”
Ten minutes later, the ladies had searched Elizabeth’s sewing box, which had been well stocked throughout the years, as Miss Bennet found lovely threads and more to fill it with, but while Elizabeth had no objection to possessing a well stocked sewing box that could serve all of her needs, she did not enjoy needle work for pleasure.
She even gave Jane her hoop and sewing bag, so Jane might move the work about the house easily and hide it from Mrs Bingley when necessary.
Jane objected to the generous supplies that her friend pressed upon her, but Lizzy insisted that she would soon be Mrs Darcy, and could replace the items easily.
“And probably never use them, for I will have a lady’s maid to attend to my own wardrobe, and I assure you, a tenant wife would far rather accept a plain infant gown from me than one I embroidered.
I can put together an uncomplicated garment, but I simply have not the patience for decorative needlework.
I am certain I will find other ways to embellish such gifts. ”
“Well, I thank you, Lizzy, and I wish you all the joy of having married well enough that you need never sew again, unless you want to.” Jane hugged the younger woman. “Were you looking for me for a reason?”
“I only hoped to be certain you are still feeling well enough to join us at Longbourn,” Elizabeth said in reply. “Are you certain your head is better?”
Jane had spent the entire day after the party at Lucas Lodge in bed with the drapes closed in her room, so terrible was the pain in her head.
The swelling was almost entirely gone, but that did not prevent Jane from experiencing at best, a small headache, or worst, a terrible megrim, either everyday, or every other day.
Yesterday was so unpleasant that laudanum had to be administered, and Jane had slept heavily until this morning.
Thankfully, all of her other bruises and small injuries were fading slowly to nothing.
“I am thankful to report that my head is much better today, and that your sister has loaned me another incomparable gown that I greatly look forward to wearing,” Jane assured her as the two took seats by the window in their shared sitting room.
She deftly threaded a needle, and began working quickly on the wrap.
“I feel awful that Mrs Bingley has lent me half her trousseau before she’s worn it. ”
“Oh, I assure you. You have not touched even a tenth of my sister’s trousseau!
When she had clothes made in town, each time the deliveries were made, Charles insisted that Jane purchased far less than Caroline, and must order more, for she was a married woman!
He dragged her out himself, thrice! She could give you an entire wardrobe, and still have four more wardrobes in her dressing room.
I believe he enjoyed himself while spoiling her in town.
I do hope that Darcy has less appreciation for shopping, for I do not tolerate excessive hours spent at it as Jane does. ”
Jane was looking forward to dining at Longbourn.
She had spent the morning elucidating Mr Rupert Hurst on the merits of Miss Mary Bennet over Miss Crawford, who–in Jane’s opinion–had no business being a parson’s wife, being far too frivolous and not at all kind, gentle, or practical enough.
Indeed, the young lady had no respect for the collar whatsoever, and spent her time attempting to advise him to leave the clergy and distinguish himself as an officer.
Mr Hurst listened carefully to everything Jane and Georgiana had to say, yet when Miss Crawford returned with Mrs Bingley from an excursion to the village, he returned to her side immediately.
“It is kind of your mother to include all of your sister’s guests,” Jane said. “I have a book to return to your father, and I am told that your mother is the premier hostess of the village.”
“She was before Jane married, but I believe that with what my sister learned from our mother, and the resources at Mr Bingley’s disposal, that Jane will eclipse her without much effort.
” Elizabeth sorted seed pearls by size and shape.
“My sister has some lovely plans for the festive season, and a ball, and the wedding. I think this winter will set her firmly on the map amongst Meryton’s hostesses, and give her the confidence that will serve her later when she entertains in town. ”
“Then your mother has done her job by her eldest very well.” Jane snipped a thread. “It is plain to see that she is prodigiously proud of Mrs Bingley–and–if I may say so–that even if she did not understand you when you were younger, she has learned to be prodigiously proud of you as well.”
“That is generous of you to say, considering that she still does not trust you at all,” Elizabeth teased.
“Nor should she,” Jane insisted. “You all trusted me far too easily, she was not wrong about that. I could have been anyone, and still might. I am grateful, but I see your mother’s perspective.
It is a mother's place to worry far more than anyone else. No other can do it half so well, save perhaps the dearest of sisters.” She paused.
“I believe my mother is the same. I do not know how to find her, but I remember that she has always been rather reproachful of me for refusing to marry.”
“You are quite certain you were never wed then?” Elizabeth asked. “We shall have to ask Charles to add that to the list of what we know.”
“I am quite certain that I have never had a husband or children. I believe I have some sort of calling that my mother disapproves of. I believe my sister Cassandra is named for her.” Jane had to recall something every so often, or at least she felt that she ought to.
It was a strange thing, to decide what one must do under such circumstances.
“That sounds interesting. Perhaps you are a great writer, and will put us all in a story that people will celebrate for centuries!” Elizabeth had great enthusiasm for her theory.
“Would that not be something? To create something that people still read and speak of two hundred and fifty years later, or even more, as we do Shakespeare and the Greeks?”
From your mouth to God’s ear, Lizzy. Jane smiled at her friend as she worked her needle deftly.
She would need to stay up very late every night that she was able in order to finish the pattern she had in mind, and perhaps even take the sewing bag into the music room with Georgiana every day.
Mrs Bingley did not play, so she rarely entered unless someone was exhibiting something particular, or in the evening after dinner.
“Good evening Mr Bennet, Mrs Bennet. Thank you for inviting me to your lovely home. Mr Bennet, allow me to return the volume you loaned me. I thank you for your kindness.” Jane curtseyed in front of her hosts.
“Indeed, Miss Jane, we are glad you could remember something, even if it was only to return a book, of which my husband has far too many.” Mrs Bennet waved a hand dismissively.
Elizabeth and Darcy had arrived quite early, to stand in the receiving line with her parents, since it was their engagement dinner.
Jane bussed Elizabeth’s cheeks, flashed a grin at Mr Darcy, and continued into the drawing room to find Georgiana already there, looking excessively proud of Miss Mary, who glowed in a salmon taffeta evening gown that could not have suited her better.
“Oh, you look divine, Miss Mary,” Jane said kindly as she greeted the girls.
“Oh, I do not seek to garner attention, Miss Jane-” Miss Mary objected.
“Of course you do not, my dear.” Jane took a seat with the young ladies.
“But the fact remains that you are divine, and you must admit that God must have made you so on purpose, and hide it no longer. It would not be respectful of the Lord to hide his blessings, as long as we employ humility, as you do already.”
“I confess that I feel out of place, competing with a lady such as Miss Crawford.” Miss Mary blushed deeply.
“There is no competition. She is flashy, but she is not suitable for a clergyman’s wife. Mr Hurst requires a proper lady, and he will remember what drew him to you before long,” Jane promised.
“I believe it was Georgiana’s white silk that drew him first,” Miss Mary evaded.
“Nonsense. He only needed to be shown that you are a rose and not a thistle, my dear.” Jane looked over at the other side of the room where Mr Rupert Hurst was talking and laughing animatedly with his brother and his wife, and the Crawfords.
“Men will draw a wide berth around something prickly, if there is no softness to temper it. No man wishes to be henpecked to death after marriage, and forgive me, my young friend, but you can be rather stern.”
“I will take your word for it.” Mary smiled at her eldest sister’s houseguest.
When all the guests were present, Elizabeth joined them with Darcy. It did not take long before Elizabeth’s presence drew Mr Crawford hence.
“Mrs-Soon-to-be-Darcy! Shall there be dancing tonight? If so, you must promise one to me, or I shall certainly perish!” Henry Crawford pleaded with Elizabeth, his hand over his heart.
“Mr Crawford, you seem destined for disappointment. Longbourn has no rooms large enough for dancing at a large party. My father took over our small ballroom for his library decades ago. I cannot even recall the room as anything else.” Elizabeth pressed closer to her betrothed as Colonel Fitzwilliam drew alongside their group, followed by Mr and Mrs Collins, who just observed the banter quietly.
“Decades too late for dancing! Mere days too late for the ultimate happiness! How cruel of fate!” Mr Crawford continued to make everyone uncomfortable. “Tell me truly, Miss Bennet. If the world were wide enough, and your affections free, might I have stood a chance?”
Elizabeth’s voice was low, and tinged with weariness. “Not in this world, nor the next, Mr Crawford.”
Mr Crawford looked over and saw Mary shaking her head at him. “The pious one does not approve of me, I think.”
“The Pious One has a name, Crawford,” growled Colonel Fitzwilliam forbiddingly. “You will address Miss Mary with respect and civility.”
“I beg your pardon, Miss Mary. What is it about me that you disapprove of so firmly?” Mr Crawford wheedled. “Be warned, in the absence of your sister’s devotion, I shall be obliged to make you fall in love with me before I depart your charming village.”
Mary looked at him as if he were a particularly distasteful bug. “Mr Crawford, envy is a sin. Or is this coveting? Either way, your behaviour is distasteful and immoral. I believe I am safe from your charms.”
“Is it kind to accuse me of sin, when I merely admire a fine example of female excellence?” he countered.
“The devil first admired the garden before he spoiled it,” Jane interrupted, unwilling to sit quietly. Miss Mary was still unsure of herself. One cruel insult from this man could destroy her fragile confidence.
“You speak as if you know my character, madam.” Mr Crawford tipped his head at her. “Tell me…what do you think of me?”
Jane eyed him with mistrust. “I think you are very clever, Mr Crawford, and too charming for your own good, though I suspect you also have the potential to be quite wicked. Were you a character in a novel, I suspect that no matter how shocking you behaved, readers would adore you despite themselves.”
“Somehow I have gone from being a sinner, to a villain in a bad novel. In all of my days, I have never been so abominably used. No more changing of the subject! I say you are wrong, Miss Bennet. I say that if I had met you first, you would be mine,” Mr Crawford boasted.
“If I may say so, you do not seem to have a mother who would permit you to reject such an advantageous match.”
The entire group burst into gales of hysterical laughter.
Nearly all of them, save Mary and Mr Collins knew that Elizabeth had rejected not one, but two advantageous proposals.
Even Mary and Mr Collins knew that it had been quite mad for her not to have accepted him.
It was admirable of her to stand by her principles–but still–quite mad–given her circumstances and that of her family.
They all moved away to speak with other guests, leaving Mr Crawford red-faced.
Miss Crawford approached her brother and Colonel Fitzwilliam. “What did I miss?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam scowled. “Your brother plays a dangerous game.”
“Oh, you must learn not to take Henry seriously; he has ever loved a challenge!” Mary smiled charmingly at Colonel Fitzwilliam, as if her brother’s behaviour were quite natural. “Do not we all?”
“If he goes on too far, he might find himself facing a very different sort of challenge.” Fitzwilliam smiled wolfishly. “Crawford ought to take care.”