Chapter 10 Wilful Misunderstandings #5
“You, too, were quite sublime, my dear,” her ladyship added, much to Jane’s delight. “I believe I must be allowed to detest you just a little for your looks. You were universally admired. And you acquitted yourself admirably given your recent elevation to your husband’s sphere.”
“Thank you.”
“Such a pity the same cannot be said for your sister. In her every action there was something of which to be ashamed. One can hardly blame your husband for his enthralment, for what man’s interest would not be piqued by such a flagrant exhibition of feminine charms?”
Jane gasped and coughed, and hot tea burnt the back of her nose. Throughout their intimacy the previous evening, Bingley had showered her with such assurances of his regard as made her forget, momentarily, Elizabeth’s claim on his affections. “Pardon?” she whispered.
“I have an eye for these things, Jane. And believe me, your husband was not alone in being drawn in. It was precisely as you said—Mrs Darcy teases and flirts at will. That a few weak-minded individuals should fall prey to such a widely cast net is unsurprising.”
“Yes, I suppose…”
“No matter. Your husband, indeed the whole of society, will soon tire of her when they realise she has naught to offer but coquetry and satire. One wonders when Mr Darcy will tire of her, but in any case, your husband will certainly lose interest soon.” She leant forward and patted Jane’s hand.
“Understand, my dear, that while men’s heads are easily turned by women’s charms, their hearts are governed by pride.
They have a great need to feel respected.
Your eminently more sensible marriage has allowed you to achieve that which your sister never will—the very ne plus ultra of your sphere.
Of course, a connection with me will recommend you further still.
Mr Bingley cannot long remain unmoved by such distinction.
” She gave her hand a parting pat and leant back.
“You observed, I presume, how his interest in her waned once you began dancing with the likes of Lord Vale?”
“I had not, though, yes, I suppose it did.”
“There, you see? It is perfectly within your power to harness his esteem if only you can learn to become the sort of wife of whom he can be proud.”
Thus, the ember of hope that flickered so erratically in Jane’s heart was rekindled. “Yes, I believe I do see.”
Lady Ashby smiled. “Good. So! Do not allow your sister’s selfish behaviour to distress you a moment longer.
No good will come of a rift between the pair of you.
Suffer her as best you can, take comfort instead in our friendship, and the next time her manners or actions grieve you, bring your vexations to me.
Mine will ever be a willing and sympathetic ear. ”
When the visit drew to an end a few minutes later, and her new friend departed with the warmest of adieus, Jane felt vastly comforted to have secured the friendship of such a shrewd and obliging woman—and a good deal of satisfaction to have proved herself, on this occasion at least, better admired than her sister.
“Have I called at an inconvenient time, Jane?”
“What do you mean?”
“You seem determined to be displeased with me today.”
Elizabeth had called at Grosvenor Street with the hope of exchanging tales of newly wedded bliss with her dearest sister but had been there for little more than five minutes before comprehending there would be no sharing of confidences this day.
Jane was uncommonly ill-tempered, inclined to take offence at most everything and find fault with all the rest.
“Forgive me, I am a little fatigued,” Jane replied. “Last night was…taxing.”
“It was? I hope nobody was uncivil to you.”
Jane’s cheeks pinked a little. “I believe it was unintentional.”
“Then you were slighted by somebody?”
Jane shrugged slightly. “I was merely ill-prepared for the want of consideration I was shown in some quarters.”
This caught Elizabeth by surprise, though she was instantly angry with herself for being surprised.
The nature of her acquaintance with Darcy had afforded her an invaluable understanding of his sphere and its inherent intolerances.
Moreover, he had warned her what to expect at the ball since it was his family and his acquaintances to whom she was being introduced.
Poor Jane had been given no such advantage.
Elizabeth was ashamed to acknowledge she had done naught to prepare her unsuspecting sister for the contempt of those whom she herself must now call family.
“I beg you would forgive me, Jane. I was too engrossed in my own world to consider how you must have felt. It was selfish of me.”
Her sister did not smile. “I shall not say you are wrong.”
Elizabeth blinked away her surprise, for she supposed, having claimed the offence, she could hardly blame Jane for agreeing with it. “But did you manage to enjoy yourself at all? Not every person was uncivil, I hope.”
“By no means. I found Lady Ashby particularly agreeable.”
“You did?” Elizabeth said with a little laugh, wondering not for the first time at Jane’s ability to form attachments to the most insincere of people.
“Yes, Lizzy, I did! I see you think it diverting. And, of course, I must be the one at fault because nobody is as good a judge of character as you.”
Though she continued to be taken aback by her sister’s ill will, the barb served its purpose. She was duly humbled. “You are quite right. Lady Ashby showed me no great courtesy, but I do not doubt you were able to see some good in her that I was not.”
“Perhaps it was because I was more respectful of her that she showed me more courtesy than she did you.”
“Do you accuse me of being disrespectful to her?”
“Not by design, I am sure, but your teasing ran as unchecked last night as ever it did in Hertfordshire, and such irreverence could never be considered respectful. Your new family will never like you if you make no effort to please them.”
“How fortunate, then, that I do not require their approbation.”
“Do you not? You are not concerned that Mr Darcy will grow weary of the schism you have caused—that he will tire of you?”
“Are you worried Mr Bingley will tire of you?” Elizabeth threw back, incredulous at the very suggestion.
A stony veil fell across Jane’s countenance.
Too late, Elizabeth realised the imprudence of using Mr Bingley’s constancy as a case in point.
“Forgive me—I meant not to allude to past troubles, only to demonstrate my faith in Darcy’s affections.
I have every reason to believe his esteem will endure regardless of his family’s opinion of me. ”
Jane unfurled from her rigid pose and turned away to take up her embroidery. “I am sure you are right.”
An oppressive silence fell over them. Jane, her expression pinched, worked doggedly on her stitches.
Elizabeth sat motionless and wretched, wondering whether their friendship might be changed forever.
They had been sheltered, she recognised, growing up at Longbourn.
Harmony and contentment had been easy to nurture when the greatest tribulations they faced were Mrs Bennet’s nerves and the occasional uncertainty of which gown ought to be worn to this or that dance.
Exposed for but a few months to the influences of the wider world, they had both been irrevocably altered and seemed unable to rediscover an equal footing.
“Jane,” she said softly, “Darcy and I leave for Pemberley on Monday, and I know not when I shall see you again. Let us not part on bad terms. Shall we not speak of something else? What of your time left in London? What are your plans?”
They talked of happier things after that, and Jane even showed Elizabeth the house.
The visit was too overshadowed by their quarrel for there to be hope of a complete recovery, however, and they parted soon after.
Elizabeth spent the remainder of the day in a fog of indignant disappointment, unable to fathom how the argument had come about.
Not until many hours later did she feel calm enough to relay the exchange to Darcy.
They lay entwined in the dimly lit cocoon of his bedchamber. His eyes were closed, but his mouth was curled into Elizabeth’s favourite half-smile, and he held her tightly to his side. The arrangement made her wish to forget the outside world—but she could not.
“I called on Jane this afternoon,” she said quietly.
“Was she well?”
“Yes, only…” She sighed heavily. “We quarrelled.”
He looked down at her. “About what?”
“Everything! There was little I said that did not seem to displease her in some way.” She rolled onto her back and looked up into the darkness of the canopy. “She apparently found the ball quite trying. I believe she felt a little out of her depth.”
“Why should that make her angry with you?”
“Because I did not notice or do anything to assist.”
“It is not your responsibility to play nursemaid to your sister, Elizabeth.”
“No, but it would have taken but a moment to warn her that she might encounter some disdain.”
“Was she openly disdained? I must say I saw nothing of it.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I know not. She said only that she disliked the want of consideration some people showed her.”
“Perhaps she was jealous of your greater notoriety.”
His voice dripped with sarcasm, but Elizabeth did not blame him.
Though she had been tolerably well received at the ball, Lady Catherine’s industrious calumny and the general prejudice of Darcy’s set had ensured that hers was a conspicuous and somewhat perilous entrance into society.
Jane’s presence had been of comparatively little interest to anybody.
Had her complaint been the lacklustre nature of her own reception?
Elizabeth chafed at the notion. If Jane begrudged her greater share of attention, she was most welcome to it!
Darcy pulled her back against him and placed a gentle kiss atop her head. “I have offended you. Forgive me.”