Chapter 28
“Lizzy!” the lady cried. “’Tis our Lizzy! Mr. Bennet, she’s come home.”
The family leapt from their seats and rushed to the steps at the front of the house, decorum forgotten. On seeing them, Elizabeth began to run; she and her mother embraced, holding each other tight, having not beheld the other for more than eighteen months.
“Mama,” cried Elizabeth, tears glistening on her cheeks, “I’ve missed you so!”
“Oh, Lizzy, we were so worried about you. Of course, we had the letters, but we did not know where you had gone. Your uncle Gardiner forwarded them, but it was as though you had disappeared off the face of the earth.”
“I’m sorry, Mama,” said Elizabeth. “I was on private business for the bank, but it took far longer than anyone expected. But that is behind us now. Let me greet my sisters and Mr. Bennet, then retire to the drawing room.”
“La, Lizzy, what an elegant gown!” said Lydia, closely examining Elizabeth’s morning dress. “Is that cashmere? For it is ever so soft and fine.”
“Indeed, it was a gift. But your gown is also very fine—that fabric comes from Uncle’s warehouse, does it not?
And that sash, it is exquisite.” Elizabeth smiled in recollection—her gown had been a gift from Fitzwilliam, to ward off the Derbyshire chill when walking out at Pemberley.
Now, he had accompanied Lady Catherine, Anne, and Georgiana to London, and would soon return to Netherfield to stand up with Bingley at his wedding.
They had yet to tell of their engagement.
Although Elizabeth was of age, Darcy insisted he obtain Mr. Bennet’s blessing, and Elizabeth, that of Mrs. Bennet.
But now was Jane and Mary’s time, for they were soon to be married in the parish church at Meryton—Bingley to wed Jane, and Mr. Collins to wed Mary.
“You look remarkably well, Lizzy,” said Mr. Bennet, who had come to sit with them in the parlour. “I do not know what you are about, but it sits well with you.”
“Indeed, Papa, I am well indeed. But yourself—you are about to lose two more of your daughters. How will you endure the quiet?”
“As I always do, my dear. With a good book and a glass of port in my library. I have begun Southey’s The Life of Nelson, only published two months ago.”
“I also have had the pleasure—an excellent biography; though I disagreed with his treatment of Lady Emma Hamilton, framing her relationship with Nelson as a tragic flaw in an otherwise heroic life. I believe the lady was cruelly used by society.”
The drawing room had gone silent. Elizabeth realised that, perhaps, she had spoken out of turn.
During her time with Lady Jersey, and more recently at Pemberley, she had become accustomed to speaking her mind.
“Perhaps, Papa, we should talk of such things later. Now, I wish to understand how it came about that Mr. Bingley proposed to Jane, for last I heard he had gone to Town.”
“He returned about a month ago,” said Jane. “He was so unhappy that my heart felt for him. One evening, he told me he was totally ignorant of my being in Town last spring! I could not account for it.
“Would you believe it, Lizzy, that when he went to Town last November, he really loved me, and nothing but a persuasion of my being indifferent had prevented his coming down again! But he learnt of his mistake, and immediately came to Longbourn. I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed! Oh! Lizzy, why am I thus singled out from my family, and blessed above them all! If I could but see you as happy! If there were but such another man for you!”
Elizabeth took her hands and offered her sincerest congratulations. To Mary, she offered the same. “Mary, I did not know that you wished to marry after you had achieved your majority. Why so? For yours has been a long engagement.”
“Mr. Collins’s patroness, Lady Catherine, believed that a woman should spend her early adulthood improving her mind and manners, not just for personal growth, but to prepare for the duty of being a wife.
It was not my coming into my majority, Lizzy, but contemplation of the sanctity of marriage.
I am now a better person than I was just a twelvemonth ago.
” Mary gave her usual smug response, yet she seemed genuinely content with her marriage.
Jane and Bingley, Elizabeth decided, wished for little else other than love and affection.
They both took great pleasure in social engagements; they liked dancing together—but, in truth, all they desired was a peaceful, comfortable, and respectable life.
They were each so complying that nothing would ever be resolved on; so easy, that every servant would cheat them; and so generous that they would always exceed their income.
Though the last was highly unlikely—Bingley had four thousand a year, likely more.
Elizabeth knew he had retained some interest in his uncle’s mills in Cheshire—perhaps he and Jane could be persuaded to purchase a house in that county, near to Pemberley.
Of course, she would see Mary frequently, in her and Darcy’s visits to Rosings.
Perhaps, in time, Mary and Mr. Collins would soften, as raising children often did.
Lady Catherine would take Mary under her wing, teaching her grace where she was now awkward and pedantic, and charm where she was pompous and self-complacent.
Kitty, who had lingered somewhat behind her sisters, at last found her voice. “Lizzy, you must tell us everything—where you have been, whom you have met! You have seen so much more of the world than any of us.”
Elizabeth laughed, her spirits brightening at Kitty’s eager curiosity.
“There is little to tell that would suit Meryton sensibilities, I fear. But I shall recount what I can—if only you promise to share with me all the local news, for I am dreadfully behind in my knowledge of Hertfordshire’s scandals. ”
Lydia, not to be outdone, flung herself onto the settee beside Elizabeth.
“We have little news—only that Mrs. Phillips is forever at odds with Mrs. Long, and Sir William Lucas has taken to wearing a most dreadful waistcoat. But you must tell us of London society! Were there balls? Did you dance with gentlemen of fortune?”
Mr. Bennet interjected, a wry smile playing about his lips. “Your sister’s adventures can wait, Lydia. Let us first see that Lizzy has some tea, and then, perhaps, she will indulge your curiosity.”
Mrs. Bennet regarded her daughter with interest. Lizzy, whose nature was so open, though not as high-spirited as Lydia, appeared somewhat guarded.
Of course, she had not disclosed her whereabouts when absent for the past eight months from London, but Mrs. Bennet’s brother, Edward Gardiner, had assured her that all was well and proper.
Now, Elizabeth had returned. There was a bloom about her that hitherto had never been present before, even as a child.
Yet, whatever the cause, time would explain.
Now was Jane and Mary’s moment in the sun—what felicity!
Mary marrying the heir to Longbourn, and Jane a man of wealth and, so it was said, connections to the highest circles of society.
She recalled his friend, Mr. Darcy—so handsome and rich—who had left the Meryton assembly so hurriedly.
It was rumoured the gentleman was the nephew of an earl.
Perhaps Mr. Bingley could introduce Lizzy to other such friends, for Mrs. Bennet wished that her second daughter, so alive and vibrant, would find happiness equal to Jane’s.
It was indeed worrisome that the girl was involved in commerce.
What was the bank—Child? What a peculiar name.
* * *
“Good gracious!” cried Mrs. Bennet, as she stood at a window. “It is that Mr. Darcy, coming here with our dear Bingley. Why, we hardly know him. Lizzy, you must walk out with him so that he finds us friendly and accommodating, as reflects well on Mr. Bingley.”
Elizabeth could hardly help laughing at so convenient a proposal; yet she was surprised that her mother found it so unexpected.
Surely, Mr. Bingley had said that Fitzwilliam was standing up with him.
As soon as they entered, Bingley looked at her so expressively, and shook hands with such warmth, as left no doubt of his good information.
“Why, Mr. Bingley, you know our Lizzy?” said Mrs. Bennet.
“We have met. I owe Mrs. E—pardon me, Miss Elizabeth, a great service. But that is a story for later. Perhaps, if Miss Bennet is agreeable, we could take a walk to Oakham Mount?”
“Exactly what I would have advised,” said Mrs. Bennet. “A walk to Oakham Mount this morning. It is a very pleasant day, and Mr. Darcy, I daresay, has never seen the view.”
Darcy professed a great curiosity to see the view from the Mount, and Elizabeth silently consented. As she went upstairs to get ready, Mrs. Bennet followed her, saying,
“I am quite sorry, Lizzy, that you should be forced to have that man all to yourself, with whom you have no acquaintance. But I hope you will not mind it: it is all for Jane’s sake, you know; and there is no occasion for talking to him, except just now and then.
So, do not put yourself to inconvenience. ”
Elizabeth laughed. “Do not concern yourself, Mama. For Mr. Bingley assures me Mr. Darcy is an exceptionally generous man. Perhaps he could take a fancy to me—at least, I am likely tolerable.”