Chapter 9 #2
“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, how lovely to see you. Alas, as you see, I am in no position to offer you tea today. If you had come half an hour later, I should have been gone too, with my sister and Mr Hurst. My brother and Mr Darcy have already ridden ahead, and we will follow as soon as Mr Hurst is ready.”
“We are sorry to see you go, Miss Bingley,” Jane responded in a voice tinged with both disappointment and relief. “I did not realise you would be leaving so soon, or I would have come to bid you farewell sooner.”
Elizabeth nodded agreement, although she herself was sorry only that the neighbourhood should be deprived of Mr Bingley’s cheerful presence.
Jane might have been friendly with Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst in London, and their goodwill towards her had continued in Hertfordshire, if in a slightly patronising fashion.
None of this, however, had ever extended to Elizabeth.
“Returning to London was a sudden decision on my brother’s part, although I cannot say I am sorry for it,” Miss Bingley confided, with rather a superior smile.
“I look forward to being in town again and enjoying the remainder of the Season. I am only sorry that you will not be with us, Miss Bennet. You must write and tell me when you next come to London.”
“When do you return to Netherfield Park?” Elizabeth asked. “Does Mr Bingley plan to give up the lease?”
Miss Bingley turned her supercilious blue eyes on Elizabeth and smiled. “Who can say?” she replied coolly. “He has not mentioned returning.”
“I shall be sorry if Mr Bingley gives up the lease,” Jane said. “We all will, shall we not, Lizzy?”
Again, Elizabeth nodded, only partly agreeing with Jane, but surprised to find her sister making such heartfelt statements.
Miss Bingley was Jane’s friend, but hardly a close one, and Mrs Hurst was little more than a passing acquaintance.
Elizabeth hoped Jane was not feeling guilty, worrying that she was the reason that Mr Bingley was abandoning his new home so soon.
“Well, we must not keep you, Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth said, taking Jane’s arm again. “We wish you all a safe journey back to London.”
After farewells and curtsies were exchanged, the front door closed, and the two Bennet sisters walked back along the drive away from Netherfield Park in thoughtful silence. It was only when they left the garden and entered on the meadow path that Jane spoke again.
“Oh, Lizzy. I hope that nothing bad has happened to make Mr Bingley leave like this. He seemed such a good man, and I do not like to think of him being unhappy.”
“I should not imagine so,” answered Elizabeth, as cheerfully as she could, although puzzled by her sister’s moods.
“Miss Bingley hardly seemed distressed, did she? No, I expect his sisters wished to be in London again, and perhaps Mr Darcy too. Mr Bingley is so amenable that he has agreed to it. I expect he will be back again in the autumn sometimes, at least for sport.”
Jane nodded and gave a long sigh.
“Do you want to rest?” Elizabeth asked. “We can sit on the fence over there for a while if you like? I know I walk too fast for everyone else.”
At first, Jane seemed minded to refuse, but when Elizabeth led her over to the fence anyway, she acceded and sat down.
“I’m worried about you, Jane,” Elizabeth admitted. “You have not been yourself for a while, and these last two weeks, since Lord Grantchester left, you have seemed quite out of sorts.”
Jane started and looked almost guilty, as though caught in the commission of some crime or offence. “I have not meant to disturb you or the rest of the family. I hope I have not been cross or impatient.”
“Not one bit,” Elizabeth said quickly. “You are your usual too-patient, too-understanding self. It is only that you are so quiet and you seem sad. Is it so very hard to be parted from Lord Grantchester?”
At this question, Jane looked disoriented, almost as if she did not understand the words or had forgotten the name of her betrothed.
“It is not so hard, no,” Jane answered after a short pause for reflection.
“Lord Grantchester wrote to me last week, remember. London sounds rather merry, and Lord Keeble sent his regards to our whole family. I have not thought about Lord Grantchester very much at all, except to enjoy his letter and hope for his good health.”
“Oh,” replied Elizabeth, bemused by this response. “Well, I am glad that neither of you is struggling with the separation.”
“Why should we?” asked Jane with a shrug. “Lord Grantchester will be back again next week, or the week after. It is not as though he is ever so far away. I dare say he might write again, too.”
“I suppose you are right,” Elizabeth responded uncertainly, not knowing what to make of such quiet acceptance and apparent equanimity from both sides. “It is not as though he has gone to America or China or Australia…”
At this, Jane giggled, making Elizabeth realise how long it was since she had heard her sister laugh out loud. It was good to hear her laughter once again.
“No, indeed,” her older sister commented with a smile. “London is really not far at all when you think of it like that, Lizzy.”
“But do you really not mind waiting a year to marry?” Elizabeth asked Jane. “Everyone else seems in such a rush about it.”
“I don’t mind at all,” answered Jane, her own expression somewhat surprised. “I always thought I should want to be married quickly, but now that it is happening, I find that a year’s wait seems nothing at all.”
This engagement of Jane’s really was not anything like love stories in novels or poetry, Elizabeth reflected to herself.
Well, maybe this should be a lesson to her that such things were not to be trusted.
If love did not really make people ache and burn to be together, if it did not send them mad with passion, was that not all for the best?
But in that case, how did Mr and Mrs Bennet ever come to be married? It seemed improbable that either would have wed the other with a cool head or for sensible reasons. There must have been some sort of madness there. How confusing it all was!
Sometimes Elizabeth thought she would be very glad never to fall in love or marry, and therefore never have to face such wildly perplexing conundrums.
“I suppose I will find it very hard to leave Longbourn when the wedding takes place,” Jane admitted, looking down at the ground. “I do not want to leave you, dear Lizzy, especially.”
“Oh, Jane,” said Elizabeth affectionately, standing to hug her sister close. “I shall always come and visit you, wherever you and Lord Grantchester decide to settle in the end. You will never have to choose between me and the man you love.”
∞∞∞
“Gone away back to London already? How very odd of Mr Bingley,” sniffed Mrs Bennet when Jane and Elizabeth had relayed the news back to their family at the supper table, the meal having been ready almost as soon as they reentered the house. “Still, he may do as he pleases, I suppose.”
“At least he has taken Mr Darcy away with him, Mother,” remarked Elizabeth. “That is one supper guest you will not have to concern yourself with. Be content with that.”
“Yes, I’m glad he is gone from the neighbourhood. What a proud, rude kind of man he is! I cannot understand why Lord Grantchester and Lord Keeble seemed to set such store by him.”
“They assured me he has hidden depths,” Elizabeth told her mother with a disbelieving smile and was gratified by a snort of equal incredulity.
“The neighbourhood is well rid of Mr Darcy, even if he does own half of Derbyshire. Lord Grantchester and Lord Keeble will be back soon enough, I’ll warrant. Hmmm. If Mr Bingley is going to stay in London, perhaps Elizabeth should go and stay with the Gardiners again.”
“I shall be staying with Jane at Longbourn,” Elizabeth told their mother firmly. “If this is to be her last year with us, I want to make the most of it.”
“Of course, dear Lizzy. But you must get your own husband as well as helping Jane with her wedding preparations. It is a shame that Mr Bingley could not stop a week or two longer and join us for a family supper.”
“Well, clearly he could not,” Elizabeth replied. “You might as well put him from your mind, Mother. I assure you that he will not be in mine.”
“It is probably just as well,” Mr Bennet said, looking up from the letter he had been reading while eating his lamb chop and minted peas.
“What do you mean, ‘just as well,’ Mr Bennet?” demanded his wife, ready to work herself into a temper. “It sometimes seems to me that you would be happy enough for none of your daughters to marry. They will all be old maids. Then, when you die —”
“It is just as well that we will not have a large party of guests for supper next week,” Mr Bennet clarified, interrupting his wife’s unfolding wrath.
His eyes twinkled mischievously over the top of his silver-framed spectacles.
“I am expecting my cousin, Mr Collins, to visit us, and I have the feeling that his visit will occupy the family’s full attention. ”
“Mr Collins?!” questioned Mrs Bennet, seeming in two minds over whether she ought to be angry or not. “Mr Collins, who is to inherit Longbourn, and may turn us all out of the house before you are even cold in your grave?”
“The very man,” confirmed Mr Bennet nonchalantly, helping himself to more buttered potatoes from the dish. “Although I would rather not discuss my own demise again over the supper table, Mrs Bennet.”
“But why should he come here to Longbourn, of all places? You have not spoken to your cousin for years, and I have never even met him. Does he wish to gloat over the entail before our very faces?”
“I do not imagine so, Mrs Bennet, for he has recently taken holy orders. I believe the church takes a very dim view of gloating among the clergy.”