Chapter 5
THE HAPPINESS OF A BELOVED SISTER
“Ruined the happiness of a most beloved sister? Do you refer to Miss Bennet?”
“Of course I do! Only imagine me saying to Jane, yes, he has played a principal role in the heartbreak of both you and your suitor…but never mind that, you must now call him brother? It would never do!”
“What would not do would be to see two people entrapped by circumstance enter so imprudent a marriage.”
“Because we have no fortune and no notable family name?” she shot back. “I thought you were proving yourself liberal minded in inviting my aunt and uncle to your ball.”
“I did not invite your aunt and uncle here to prove anything. I invited them because I like them. Disparities of circumstance are far less to me than you might imagine,” he said.
“Then why did you serve as the architect of their heartbreak?”
“Your aunt and uncle?” He quirked a brow at her.
“Teazing man. I refer to Jane and Mr Bingley, of course.”
“Matters of prudence can be overcome, but when there is both a material disadvantage to him and a lack of genuine attachment, an excessively unhappy union will result. Such things formed the basis of his sister’s objections, but these were nothing to Bingley.
Those might have delayed him but would not have dissuaded him against her.
It was not until I told him of my opinion, that Miss Bennet was largely indifferent to him, that he was moved. ”
“Indifferent?” Elizabeth gaped. “Sir, I tell you most fervently that my sister loved your friend and has been in acutest misery these past weeks.”
She observed then that Mr Darcy’s gaze had wandered and alit on something beyond her left shoulder. Just as quickly, he returned it to her countenance, but she was curious as to what had drawn his notice.
Glancing back, she beheld Jane standing with a gentleman of recent acquaintance.
Mr Cartwright, she believed his name was, and there could be no denying that Jane presently viewed him with a pleased and interested eye.
Her gaze, though lowered appropriately, appeared more coquettish than diffident, and her blush was light but plainly evident.
As Elizabeth watched her, Jane laughed lightly at something Mr Cartwright said and permitted him to kiss her gloved hand.
She could not deny it made the strength of her assertions weaken considerably.
“Forgive me if I again offer judgment when I must not, but to my eye, Miss Bennet does not seem miserable.”
Elizabeth’s voice was tight as she told him, “I must speak to my sister.”
“I shall await you here.”
With quick steps, she went to where her sister stood with Mr Cartwright. She forced a smile onto her countenance as she said, “Jane, might I have a word with you?”
“Of course.” Jane excused herself from her gentleman friend and went with Elizabeth to a point at some distance suitable for whispered conference.
“What are you doing?” Elizabeth hissed.
“What do you mean?”
“You seem to be flirting with Mr Cartwright.”
“Oh, Lizzy,” Jane enthused. “He is everything a young man ought to be. He is amiable and kind and exceedingly good natured. Handsome, too, which I do agree with you, a young man ought to be if he possibly can.”
She had said the very same things of Mr Bingley once.
“Yes, but… What about Mr Bingley?”
“Mr Bingley?”
Elizabeth inhaled deeply to summon her patience. “You must remember Mr Bingley—the one who broke your heart?”
“Oh. Well, yes, there was that.”
Elizabeth paused a moment to study her sister. Jane was always beautiful, but tonight, since coming into Mr Darcy’s home, she looked radiant. Was it anticipation of seeing Mr Bingley or…something else?
“Are you disappointed he is not here yet?”
“Who?” Jane asked, giving a sidelong glance towards where Mr Cartwright lingered.
“Mr Bingley!”
“I am not sure.”
Elizabeth laughed, a brittle, unhappy sound. “How can you be unsure? You were in love and anticipating his proposal. You have been despondent over his desertion!”
“Despondent?” Jane tilted her head quizzically. “I would not go so far as to say that I was despondent.”
“You moped about Longbourn for weeks!”
Just then, Lord Saye crossed into their field of vision.
Going behind Mr Cartwright, he looked at the ladies and mouthed something.
It appeared like he was saying ‘pockets to let’.
He followed it by drawing his finger across his neck, an ‘off with his head’ gesture, and a slight shake ‘no’.
Then Mr Cartwright turned, and Lord Saye said something that made him look surprised and chastened.
The viscount then wandered off, and with a stricken look towards Jane, Mr Cartwright followed.
“It can be diverting, in its own way, to be crossed in love,” Jane informed her.
“It is something to think of and gives a lady a sort of distinction among her companions. And I was feeling very low at the dullness of things. You must admit that our little neighbourhood was vastly more interesting when the Netherfield party was there, was it not?”
Elizabeth’s jaw dropped, and she raised one hand to press against her chest. “You are not in misery of the acutest kind, then?”
Jane considered it. “Misery is such a strong word, after all. Perhaps not misery, but I did suffer, never doubt that. Hertfordshire is…” She shook her head. “Just too tedious by half sometimes.”
Another gentleman had come into their view. Elizabeth had not been introduced to him but evidently Jane had. Mr Simpson-Jones was older but still well looking and worth ‘eight thousand a year’ if Jane’s whisper was accurate.
Jane raised her fan then and gave Mr Simpson-Jones a coquettish glance over it with a smile that was undeniably promising. Mr Simpson-Jones was not unaffected by it. His eyes darkened, and he sent her sister a look that could only be described as lustful.
Elizabeth felt her lip curl with distaste. Not because Mr Simpson-Jones was himself distasteful, although he did not meet her idea of male beauty. Compared to Mr Darcy, he was scarcely… Stop that, Elizabeth! You will not begin thinking of Mr Darcy as handsome. Where will it end?
Jane had begun to drift towards Mr Simpson-Jones, and Elizabeth reached out to grasp her arm and pull her back. “A moment more, please.”
“Lizzy.” Jane smiled but was clearly vexed. “You and I can talk all night long if you like, but at present, Mr Simpson-Jones—”
“So now you like Mr Simpson-Jones? Better than Mr Bingley? Better than Mr Cartwright even?” Elizabeth could scarcely keep apace of all the revelations. “If Mr Bingley entered this drawing room right now, what would you do?”
Jane considered for a moment. “Clearly Mr Simpson-Jones has the superior fortune to both, though I must say Mr Bingley is…better formed.”
“Better formed?”
Jane giggled girlishly and whispered, “Mr Bingley did fill out his breeches rather nicely, did he not? I am sure you must have observed it, disinterested as you were.”
“Jane! No, in fact, I was not looking at Mr Bingley’s breeches.”
“No?” Jane quirked a brow at her. “Too busy with the breeches of another, then?” She gave an expressive look towards the antechamber.
“I am bewildered by you right now, Jane. You sound like Lydia!”
Jane waved that away. “But to return to your question of what I would do should Mr Bingley come back now. Well, the answer must also consider Sir Gilbert.”
“Who is Sir Gilbert?”
“My uncle introduced him to me. I believe you were away from the house that day. He is the least well favoured of them, but his income is eight thousand a year. His estate is in Hertfordshire, and well, then I would be Lady Pawley.” Jane sighed and moved to put her back towards Mr Simpson-Jones.
“You know, now that I think of it, I might be very much in love with Sir Gilbert.”
“I refuse to believe any of this. I think you have been drinking too much wine and are confused. Your heart was broken! Over Mr Bingley!”
“Lizzy, your notions of love are charming, but really, what has a heart to do with a marriage?”
“Everything!”
“It is as easy to give your heart to a rich man as a poor one,” Jane said stoutly. “But it can be very bewildering, can it not?”
“What can?”
“Mama has always said that, with beauty such as mine, I should be the wife of a wealthy and important gentleman. What I cannot quite determine, however, is how the wealth of the man must be considered in relative measure to my beauty. Should the handsomeness of the man be considered as well? What is more advantageous—a match with a handsome man who is less rich, or one who is more rich or less handsome?”
Elizabeth simply stared at her, then added, “To say nothing of the worth of a title.”
Jane was lost in thought and missed the sarcasm in her tone completely.
“Of course, the ravages of time will eventually affect even the most handsome face and figure in the most charming of gentlemen…but then a fortune can be lost, and sometimes, even more readily. It really is very confusing.” Jane shook her head slowly.
“I just cannot say whether the matter of fortune or handsomeness must prevail in one’s selection of a marriage partner. One does not know what to think.”
“I beg your pardon. One knows exactly what to think.” Elizabeth nearly growled in exasperation with her sister. “Jane just…just go back to your partner and enjoy his smiles. I am wasting my time with you!”
Jane resumed her beatific smile and left her. And now I must return to Mr Darcy and admit that he was right all along. Elizabeth squared her shoulders and moved towards the antechamber.