10. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
October 1811 Longbourn, Hertfordshire Elizabeth
T he ladies of Longbourn waited on those of Netherfield two days after the Meryton Assembly. Mr. Bingley was also present, much to the delight of Mrs. Bennet and her eldest daughter. Mary and Elizabeth made every attempt to be inconspicuous. They had no desire to call upon their new neighbors, but their stepmother had insisted upon their attendance. Her reasons became apparent when she made every attempt to compare Jane’s fair looks with the ‘inferior’ appearance of her two stepdaughters.
In consequence, Mary and Elizabeth sequestered themselves on a settee situated a little away from the others in the party, discussing their upcoming trip to London in muted tones.
The other two gentlemen were not in attendance at first; indeed, Elizabeth felt relieved when a certain man from Derbyshire did not make an appearance. Her satisfaction was short-lived, for Mrs. Bennet delayed their departure twice, extending their visit far beyond the polite fifteen minutes until three quarters of an hour had passed. As they rose to leave, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Hurst joined them. They gave their greetings perfunctorily, the former with a face of stone, and the latter with a florid complexion that spoke of a propensity for strong drink.
Mr. Darcy studiously ignored Elizabeth. She did not care; she preferred his lack of attention to his manner of mingling with company. He can believe himself above his neighbors. It likely feeds his vanity and gives him a sense of importance he could not otherwise obtain.
The Bennets made their way toward the door at long last, the matron first and her unwanted stepdaughters last. As Elizabeth departed, a deep voice from the room they had just vacated spoke.
“Five-and-forty minutes, Bingley?” Mr. Darcy’s disdainful words were clearly heard from the place where she had paused in the hall. “I knew that there would be little to no refinement in this part of the country, but I never expected the wife of a gentleman to so overstay her welcome.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy,” came Miss Bingley’s silken voice. She practically purred as she spoke. “We indicated an end to the call twice. That woman ignored us, instead changing the subject to prolong their stay. Our third try finally met with success. Well, they are gone now, and we can return to our day.”
“Lizzy,” hissed Mary, tugging on her arm. “Come or Mrs. Bennet will depart without us.”
Had she been in her walking boots, she might not have cared, but she allowed Mary to pull her out the door and into the waiting carriage.
“What kept you?” Mrs. Bennet snapped. “We have not all day to wait on you, Miss Lizzy. Next time, I shall order the coachman to return to Longbourn without you.”
Elizabeth nodded absently, hoping that the gesture would soothe her stepmother’s ruffled feathers. Thankfully, Mrs. Bennet said no more to her as they commenced with their return to Longbourn.
“Mr. Bingley was most attentive to you, dear Jane,” she said, practically crowing in delight. "I think there is a very good chance that he will offer for you."
“I believe you may be correct, Mama.” Jane preened much as Lydia did, smiling smugly and twirling a curl around her finger.
Elizabeth wondered again what had prompted this change. Jane had never been flirtatious or outwardly demonstrative, yet now she flaunted her beauty, wielding it like a weapon. I pity the fly caught in her web, she thought. Still, her concern for her sister prevailed; she was not yet ready to leave Jane to her own devices. If she could only get her to see sense, mayhap Jane would return to how she was before the summer.
A week passed, and the residents of Longbourn received an invitation to a dinner party at Lucas Lodge. The footman who delivered the note informed Mrs. Bennet that the Netherfield party was also invited to dine.
“Oh, this is a good thing for you, Jane!” she cried. “Lady Lucas always invites far too many guests. You will have no trouble keeping Mr. Bingley’s attention for the duration of the evening. Wear your blue silk that you brought back from London. I shall lend you my pearl and sapphire set. Milly will do your hair—she has such a knack for the latest styles.”
She rambled on, and Elizabeth effectively ignored her in favor of more pleasant thoughts. She had a letter from her cousin Susan that morning, and she eagerly read the missive.
Dearest Elizabeth,
I scarcely know how to begin—I am very excited! Papa has agreed that I might attend family events this season. I am seventeen now, and nearly of an age to be presented. He has placed the usual restrictions upon me, but I will gladly do anything he asked to attend a ball. Dancing only with my brother and father will try my patience, but perhaps if I behave very well, he might loosen the restrictions by the end of the season.
Elm Grove is dreadfully dreary without you and Mary. James is gone much of the time. Father has a great many tasks for his only son and heir to accomplish. He goes about his business seriously—you know my brother to be the very best and honorable of men.
Given the dearth of young people at home, I have been forced to go abroad in search of amusement. Mama insists that I help with tenant visits, though I confess they are not my favorite responsibility. Is it wrong to admit that the humble living conditions of our tenants make me feel guilty for the accident of my birth? I am afraid of offending them by speaking of things to which they cannot relate. And then I go home and forget all about my confused feelings until we go again.Tell me more about your new neighbors. The name Darcy sounds familiar. From your letters, I gather that you do not like him very much. What did he do, step on your toes whilst dancing? I jest, dear cousin, for I know you would not disdain another without good cause.
This Mr. Bingley sounds smitten with your stepsister. I am sorry to hear that she is so altered since the summer. I, too, am at a loss for what could have exacted such a change. You have always spoken so warmly of her. This departure from what was must be terribly upsetting.
Papa says we will come to Longbourn after Christmas and before Twelfth Night. Mama has already scheduled appointments with the modiste. Madame Dubois is eager to aid the earl and countess in their efforts to marry off their most deserving nieces.
Do write to me soon. I wish to know if Jane succeeds in ensnaring Mr. Bingley.
Your dear cousin,
Susan
“Elizabeth! Wake up, girl!”
Elizabeth jumped, startled out of her thoughts. She looked up into Mrs. Bennet’s scowling face. Jane had left the room, leaving her alone with her stepmother.
“Did you hear a word I said?” the woman asked heatedly.
“I did not. I was perusing my letter.” Elizabeth shrugged in apology.
Mrs. Bennet snatched the papers from her hand. “What could possibly be more important than assisting Jane in securing Mr. Bingley? Then again, you likely wish for her to fail!” She tore the papers in half and tossed them in the fire.
Elizabeth stood up; her hands clenched at her sides. “You had no cause to burn my letter,” she seethed.
“You had best keep your belongings out of my drawing room if you wish to retain them,” came the retort. “Now, you will go upstairs and fetch your cashmere shawl for Jane. The blue and cream one that you brought back from Elm Grove.”
“I shall not.” Elizabeth folder her arms. “It is mine and was a gift from my uncle.”
“Spoiled, selfish girl! Do as you are told this instant or I shall fetch it myself.”
“Fetch what, Mrs. Bennet?”
Elizabeth turned, relieved to see her father in the doorway.
“Elizabeth has agreed to give Jane her shawl, yet she refuses to retrieve it for me.” Mrs. Bennet smiled and batted her eyes in what she doubtlessly thought to be an attractive manner. The woman was still very handsome, with her blond curls and blue eyes. Her gown perfectly accented a trim figure. It was a shame that such a terrible termagant accompanied the attractive physical qualities.
“I did no such thing, Papa,” Elizabeth declared. “Mrs. Bennet burned my letter and then demanded that I give Jane my new shawl.”
“Was that shawl not a present from your aunt and uncle?” Mr. Bennet’s eyes glinted dangerously, and he turned a quelling look on his wife.
“It was.” Elizabeth’s courage rose; Papa would not leave her to fend off the beast alone.
“Then it is perfectly acceptable for you to refuse to part with it.” Keeping his gaze on his wife, he continued. “I shall be most displeased if it comes up missing or damaged.”
Mrs. Bennet swallowed and nodded, her lips turning down into a frown. “I see how it will be,” she said. “I believe I shall order a bath for Jane.”
Head held high, Mrs. Bennet glided from the room. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief and sank into her chair.
“I am sorry she burned your letter,” her father said, coming toward her and putting a hand on her shoulder.
“She grows worse every day,” she muttered in reply.
“You will be away from it soon enough.” He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.
“And yet I find that I want to depart tomorrow instead of in December.” Elizabeth rubbed her eyes wearily. “I will miss you, Papa, but Longbourn has become increasingly tumultuous. I used to be able to count on Jane for support, but she has undergone some sort of metamorphosis. Now instead of three against three, it is two against four.”
“Where do I fall?” He said it in jest, but it fell flat to Elizabeth’s ears.
She did not know exactly how to respond and considered her words before speaking. “You love me,” she said carefully. “And you love Mary. Yet, you despise your wife more than you love us. You hide in your study, content to let her drive us to distraction with her improper behavior. You do not check her tongue, allowing her to denigrate Mary to the point where she believes herself to be plain and unlovable. I admit that most of the abuse occurs where you cannot see it… but if you were present more often, she would have less opportunity to volley insults at us.”
“Surely, you are not so missish to believe that woman’s rambling nonsense.” He frowned and sank into the seat next to her.
“I do not believe her, but that does not mean her words do not wound me.” Elizabeth sighed. “You know my courage rises with every attempt to intimidate me, but I am weary of the battle. I long to feel comfortable in my home, and to leave behind those who would belittle me simply because I hold a larger place in my father’s heart than they do.”
Mr. Bennet sighed softly. “You know nothing of how the marriage came about. I have made no secret of my displeasure. Indeed, one day I shall tell you why we do not have alcohol at Longbourn. That vile liquid turns even the most respectable men into fools and villains. I cannot respect her, my dear, and her presence reminds me every day of the felicity I have lost. I suppose I manage my distaste for her presence by hiding in my study. Never did it occur to me that in doing so, I left you and Mary open to more insults.”
“Miss Lane has been somewhat of a shield,” Elizabeth admitted. “But even when she is here, she cannot catch everything.”
“Yes, Miss Lane reports to me and your uncle religiously. I do wish she had not needed to go to Shropshire until the spring.” Mr. Bennet nodded and stood. “I cannot promise perfection, my Lizzy, but I will attempt to be more present. I shall ensure that your last months at Longbourn are happier and more comfortable.”
“My last months?” she asked. “Am I to stay with my uncle permanently? What of Mary?”
“There are no plans in place,” he hedged, “but you and your sister are lovely and accomplished. If you are not both betrothed by the end of the season, then I shall eat my hat.”
They laughed, and Mr. Bennet went to his study to retrieve his book. He read in the parlor the rest of the afternoon until it was time to dress for the party at Lucas Lodge.