Chapter 10
Jane was confused and out of sorts. It was rare for her. She usually seemed calm and serene, because she was calm and serene. There was very little that others could do that would truly upset her. This last week, however, had pushed her serenity to its limits.
She decided to do what she had always seen Elizabeth do any time her sister was out of sorts. She went for a walk alone.
It was rare for Jane to go anywhere alone. It was rare for her to be alone at all. Between her four sisters, her sporadically attentive mother, her doting Aunt Phillips, and her many friends, it often felt as if the only time she was alone was when she was asleep.
Most of the time, she preferred it that way. She loved her family and friends and would not truly wish to be apart from any of them. Today, however, was different.
To ensure as much privacy as possible, Jane headed toward a little used path behind Longbourn.
The reason it wasn’t used much was that it didn’t really go anywhere.
It simply ended partway through the woods.
Elizabeth had often speculated why it even existed, but neither of them could come up with any believable suggestion.
This was the path Jane took as she hurried away from Longbourn. While she was in the open, she was full of fear that one of her sisters would see her from a window and rush to join her. It was only when she reached the shade of the woods that she could finally breathe easily.
It was colder in the shade, and she pulled her cloak more tightly around her. As she did so, she relaxed her mind and allowed her thoughts to roam freely.
There were two main reasons for her confusion: Mr. Bingley and Mr. Masters.
Jane had spent the last six weeks gradually falling in love with Mr. Bingley.
He was exactly what every man ought to be, cheerful, charming, and handsome.
Jane had thought he returned her growing affection.
He had certainly paid a great deal of attention to her, giving rise to expectations among her neighbors that he would propose.
On the day after the ball, he had to go to London for a few days for business. He had promised so earnestly that he would return as soon as he could. He had even accepted an invitation from Mama to come to dinner as soon as he did.
But he didn’t come back. Instead, Miss Bingley had closed the house and followed after him. She wrote a letter saying that none of them planned to return.
It was hard enough to be abandoned in such a way, but she had to put up with her mother’s constant complaints about it and Elizabeth’s constant reassurance that he did love her and that he still would return for her, neither of which were helpful. They both merely highlighted her own pain.
It was all a mess, and it hurt her far more than anyone knew.
It wasn’t just that her heart was broken.
That would have been difficult, but manageable.
It was the way people talked about it. Even worse, it was simply not knowing what happened.
Why did he leave? Would he ever return? If he did return, how should she treat him?
Into the midst of this confusion, Mr. Masters entered. In so many ways, he was the exact opposite of Mr. Bingley. Where Mr. Bingley was cheerful, Mr. Masters was serious. Where Mr. Bingley was fair, Mr. Masters was dark.
As Jane had come to know him a bit more over the last week, she had come to realize an even more important contrast between the two gentlemen.
Where Mr. Bingley was far too tractable and flighty, easily swayed by friends and family, Mr. Masters was firm and steady, both in his purpose and in his relationships.
She knew this by the way they each spoke of their friends and family and by how they talked of their business.
Mr. Bingley didn’t even have much business, only a few large investments which he managed from a distance most of the time.
Mr. Masters, on the other hand, was still active in managing the mills he owned.
While he didn’t go to them in person, he was very much involved in hiring and overseeing those who managed them.
He was kept apprised of many of the details of their operation.
Mr. Bingley had often told stories of how various people had convinced him to do something, often something which seemed unwise, and it either turned out wonderful or hilariously bad.
At the time, Jane had simply seen that as amiable, but she had lately come to realize that a man who could not foresee the consequences of his own actions, who could not say no when a friend suggested doing something unwise, was not a man she should have put her faith in.
Mr. Masters spoke of his sister in Manchester and even his friends, but when he spoke of seeing them, he always said that he had decided to go see them rather than that he had been persuaded to do so.
It was a subtle difference, and Jane would never have noticed that there even was such a distinction if she had not been hurt so badly by Mr. Bingley’s fickleness.
The reason Jane was confused on this particular day was that, while comparing the two gentlemen, she realized they both had something in common. They both paid her a great deal of attention.
Mr. Masters had come to Longbourn with Mr. Darcy every single day except Sunday ever since they arrived in the neighborhood nearly a week ago. Every time, Mr. Masters would speak with her while Mr. Darcy spoke to Elizabeth.
At first, Jane had thought nothing of it.
She assumed Mr. Masters was simply coming along to keep from being home alone.
Then she realized that there was another guest at Netherfield, Colonel Fitzwilliam, who could have kept Mr. Masters company.
He was deliberately coming to Longbourn, and if the evidence was to be believed, he was coming specifically to be in her company.
The problem was that Jane was beginning to like the man very much.
Oddly, this was the fact that distressed her the most. Was she as fickle as Mr. Bingley that she could change the object of her affections so quickly? Was she so shallow that she would fall in love with any handsome man who paid attention to her?
Even more worrisome was the question as to whether she truly esteemed Mr. Masters or whether she was drawn to him simply because he was so very different from Mr. Bingley who had hurt her so badly.
By the time she reached the end of the path, Jane still had not reached any conclusion, but at least the brisk exercise had worked out some of her anxiety.
She leaned against a tree to rest. She could not sit on the ground without ruining her gown, but at least the tree was sturdy and supported her weight.
The tree was comforting to lean against. It was firm and unyielding, and it connected her in some ephemeral way to the ground beneath her feet, helping her feel more supported and stable than she had felt in over a week.
Jane sighed. She knew there was no solution to any of it. She would simply have to continue to live her life day by day. Hopefully, she would gradually grow in her understanding of herself and everyone around her. Hopefully, she would learn more about how to deal with life.
Right now, however, she would take this moment of peace and use it to rest her weary mind and heart.
Jane did not know how long she leaned against the tree, nor did she care to know. When she was ready to return to the house, she stood back up. She squared her shoulders, breathed in as much courage as she could hold, and took a step back toward the house.
That was when the tree, which had been so comforting moments ago, took its payment for services rendered. Jane’s foot caught on a root which was jutting up from the ground. The next thing she knew, she was on the ground.
Her first thought was that if she had known she would get her gown dirty, she would have simply sat on the ground in the first place. Her second thought, however, was that her foot hurt. And her third thought was that her wrist hurt.
Assuming that the pain was simply that of a few pulled muscles, Jane moved to stand. As soon as she put pressure on her pained wrist, however, the dull ache flared into a sharp pain that made her hiss.
Using only her good hand, she tried again. This time, her foot did the same thing.
Jane sat back on the ground and simply focused on not crying from the pain as she allowed the sharpness to dull back down into a simple ache.
Once the pain in both her wrist and ankle had receded somewhat, she once again tried to stand.
Without putting pressure on her right hand or her left foot, it was rather difficult, but she eventually managed it.
Then, using an awkward combination of hopping, limping, and leaning on trees whenever possible, she made her slow way out of the woods.
By the time she reached the open field that lay between her and home, Jane was exhausted. Ignoring the additional damage to her gown, she sat down on the ground and leaned against a tree at the edge of the wood.
Though her previous exertions had warmed her, now that she was still once again, she began to be rather cold.
Despite her chill, she could not make herself stand.
As she began to shiver, she leaned her head back against the trunk of the tree and closed her eyes.
Moments later a few silent tears made their slow way down her cheeks.
“Miss Bennet!” cried a voice which forced her eyes open.
Mr. Masters was dismounting his horse and rushing towards her. “Miss Bennet, are you ill? What is the matter?”
Jane could hear the very real fear in his voice, and her instinct to reduce any pain in those around her kicked in enough to make her sit up and answer him.
“I am not ill,” she said. “I fell in the woods and seem to have injured both my wrist and my foot. I am resting here to gather my strength so that I can make it the rest of the way home.”
“You are freezing, Miss Bennet,” he said as he removed his greatcoat.
“I am well enough,” she said, though her shivering made it obvious she was lying.
Without responding to her statement, he draped his coat around her shoulders, allowing it to drag on the ground behind her. “Miss Bennet, I am going to pick you up and place you on my horse. If you have any objections, now is the time to voice them.”
“I have no objections,” she answered in a small voice. Though his presence was commanding and even a little forceful, Jane felt little other than relief at his manner. She knew, now that he was here and was taking control, everything would be well.
The relief of knowing that she didn’t have to force herself to be stronger than she was caused tears to once again gather in her eyes.
As he leaned down to pick her up, he must have noticed them, for he said, “Do not worry, Miss Bennet. We shall get you home and warmed up soon enough.”
The feeling of being lifted in Mr. Masters’ strong arms was an additional comfort. Surrounded as she was by his coat, his arms, and his chest, Jane felt as though the gentleman was somehow protecting her from everything unpleasant in the world.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
By the time he had placed her on his horse, she was warm enough that she was no longer shivering. From there, it took about five minutes to get home.
An hour later, Jane was in clean clothes by a warm fire while Mr. Jones, the local apothecary, examined her wrist and foot, both of which were now badly swollen.
“I cannot detect any broken bones, Miss Bennet, but there is definitely some damage,” he said when he was done with his examination.
“Keep your foot elevated as much as possible until the swelling goes down. Same with your hand. Don’t use either more than absolutely necessary.
Once the swelling is gone, you can increase your activity as long as the pain does not increase too badly. ”
“Thank you, Mr. Jones,” said Jane.
She leaned her head back as the apothecary left.
Then her mother began her unceasing complaints that were meant to be sympathy.
Jane closed her eyes and let the sound simply wash over her.
Instead of listening, she filled her mind with the memory of how Mr. Masters’ greatcoat surrounded her with his warmth and his scent, protecting her and comforting her like nothing in her life ever had.