Chapter 7
WHERE MR ELLIS AND MR BINGLEY BOTH LOSE THEIR PATIENCE.
Rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes, Elizabeth peered through the curtains of her bedchamber window and smiled.
The entire lawn was blanketed by a thick layer of frost. Even the branches and tree trunks were robed in a shimmering sheen of rime, giving the landscape a magical transformation.
Careful not to disturb Jane’s slumber, Elizabeth dressed in near darkness, struggling with the buttons at the back of her gown.
Donning her outerwear, she descended the stairs and hurried from the house.
Though the temperature was cold, the appearance of the sun slowly ascending the distant hills was a vast improvement over the dark, angry sky the previous day.
She made her way to the stables, where one of the boys saddled a horse for her and held the reins as she mounted from the block with practiced ease.
With a flick of her wrist Elizabeth urged her mount, an even-tempered chestnut mare named Abacus, towards an open expanse of fields on the far side of her father’s estate.
Clouds of steam from their quickened breaths rose in quick succession as Elizabeth increased their pace.
She smiled with pleasure as the wind whipped back her bonnet, wreaking havoc with the simple hairstyle she wore.
Before long, her hair flowed free as each pin was cast off—a metaphoric trail of breadcrumbs through Longbourn’s frost-covered fields.
Elizabeth Bennet was often called a great walker, but she was also an equally competent horsewoman.
Her only regret was that she was not able to ride more than one season during the year with any regularity—and the coldest one at that; but there was nothing to be done.
The horses were needed in the fields or to pull the family’s carriage.
At Longbourn the crops and the harvest were first and foremost, and riding—unless one conceded to the geriatric pace of Old Nellie, the brood mare—was a rare indulgence the Bennet ladies were seldom able to afford.
After nearly reaching Meryton, Elizabeth doubled back until she found herself upon Netherfield’s land.
Solemnly, she sat astride her horse and watched as the great chimneys emitted a steady stream of smoke, an indication that the servants within were busy preparing for their master’s homecoming.
Jane had been distressed by the unexpected delay in Bingley’s return, but Elizabeth had reminded her that Miss Bingley was to accompany him.
There was little chance Netherfield’s master would risk travelling with his sister in such weather as they experienced the previous day.
The assembly would be held that night. For her sister’s sake, Elizabeth hoped her future brother would arrive in good time to attend it.
Several minutes passed in quietude before Abacus, not usually prone to skittish behaviour, sidestepped towards the open field and tossed her head.
Elizabeth smoothed her gloved hand over the mare’s thick neck and murmured comforting words while she scanned her surroundings, searching for the cause of her horse’s distress.
A short distance away she spied Jonathan Ellis riding his own mount.
“Good morning to you, Mr Ellis,” she called to him. “Save for the starlings, I did not expect to meet with anyone so early on such a cold morning.”
He tipped his hat to her as he approached and guided his horse alongside her own. His cheeks were bright from the cold. “Good morning, Lizzy. What brings you to Netherfield on this chilly morning?”
“I could not sleep. The property needs a little liveliness, I think. It appears quite empty without our amiable neighbour.”
“Certainly, you are not fretting over Mr Bingley’s return?”
“Jane misses him, but her impatience for his return is nothing to my mother’s anxiety.
Had Mr Bingley failed to inform her of his determination to return with his sister, I am convinced that Mamma would have gone to London herself to fetch him by now.
You know today is the day of the assembly, and it would never do for any of her daughters to be without a partner for the first set. ”
Mr Ellis chuckled. “From what I have seen, Jane and her Mr Bingley not only appear well matched, but very much in love.”
“They are, and I must say my future brother’s adoring looks and saccharine speeches could not be more welcome after the dejection Jane suffered last winter. She deserves this happiness. They both deserve it.”
“And what of your own happiness?”
A flock of blackbirds landed on Netherfield’s front lawn, their calls amplified in the crispness and quiet of the early morning hour. Elizabeth turned her head aside to watch them. “I rejoice in Jane’s good fortune. Her happiness cannot possibly be equalled.”
Mr Ellis looked meaningfully at her. “Come now, this show of indifference has gone on long enough. I am not so easily put aside as the rest of the world, nor so effortlessly distracted by a book or talk of your sister’s impending wedding.
You are suffering—anyone with half a brain can see it.
You can no more deny it than I can ignore the looks of concern Jane casts in your direction. ”
“Jane worries a great deal too much. It is her nature, nothing more.”
“It is not in Jane’s nature to fret over you so much, Lizzy.
At least not without just cause. She is your most trusted confidant—the one person in the world whose counsel you most value—yet it is clear to me, by her actions and your own, that you have not shared with her the cause of your disheartened spirits.
You must know your continued reluctance to do so will only further alarm her. ”
Elizabeth bowed her head, and with great gravity pretended to examine her horse’s reins.
She was in no humour to indulge her friend’s curiosity, but his observations were astute enough that she could not easily dismiss his concern.
Past experiences reminded her she could not simply brush Mr Ellis off and be done with it.
He was far too persistent and too little swayed.
“I refuse to mar this joyous time by relating to my dearest sister that which will afford her little pleasure. It would be selfish of me and unfair to her.”
“Confide in me, then. Permit me to share your burden, to bear some of the weight that presses so heavily upon your heart. It pains me to see you thus.”
Elizabeth fell silent.
“Lizzy,” her friend chided. “Something transpired during the time I have been away. What was it, pray? Surely, enough time has passed that Lydia’s marriage to Lieutenant Wickham is no longer of any concern?”
Though Elizabeth bristled at Mr Ellis’s intimation of her sister’s disgrace, she could not fault him for his solicitation, especially when sincere worry for her well-being was evident in the crease of his brow.
His desire to alleviate her concern reminded her of the closeness they had shared in their youth.
Together, they had raced across the countryside, waded through murky ponds, and kept each other’s confidences, however trivial they now seemed.
Elizabeth longed for that simpler, less complicated time of her life—a time when a certain gentleman from Derbyshire had not existed to her, a time when she was not plagued by heartache and mortification or pained by regret.
She bit her lip in indecision. I have kept my own counsel for so long. Perhaps sharing my burden might do me some good. Perhaps it may even begin to loosen the hold Mr Darcy has upon my heart and allow me to move on once and for all.
At length, she said, “There was a gentleman I grew to care for, but he left for town some months ago and has not returned. It seems unlikely he ever will.”
Mr Ellis appeared startled by the news, but quickly regained his composure. “You have received word from him, then?”
A flush of heat warmed her countenance and Elizabeth looked away.
“No understanding exists between us. I have learnt from a mutual friend that he does not plan to return to Hertfordshire in the foreseeable future. More recently, there has been some speculation of an engagement to another lady, though I have yet to receive confirmation of it from another source. Being acquainted with some of the particulars, I am inclined to discredit it as a rumour and nothing more, but the idea of him pledging himself to another—either now or in the future—pains me.”
“Were only your own affections engaged, or do you believe him attached to you as well?”
“He was by no means unaffected, though his admiration was not generally known. I do not know for certain whether he still holds me in a tender regard. For many reasons, ours has not been an easy history. We move in very different circles and, in the eyes of his most intimate acquaintance, my family and I must be considered beneath him, especially now that Lydia—” Elizabeth’s words caught in her throat.
She glanced at her friend and saw his countenance resembled a storm cloud.
Despite his agitation, Mr Ellis allowed her a moment to compose herself and held his tongue.
Elizabeth knew him well, though. He would speak his mind soon enough. Training her eyes heavenward, she laughed without humour. “I hardly know what I am about anymore. I have no idea what to think after all that has transpired. I know only that it is over and done. Perhaps it is for the best.”
“Codswallop,” he said tersely. “I know precisely what to think and I assure you it is nothing so generous as the explanation you recited to me just now. Such a heartless scoundrel does not, cannot deserve you. How any man could dismiss an intelligent, discerning, lovely young woman such as yourself astounds me! He is not worthy of your regret, never mind the title of gentleman. I demand to know his name.”