On His Judgment Alone (In Love with Mr Darcy #8)
Chapter 1
One
As the carriage rattled through the streets of Cheapside, bound for a loftier destination, Elizabeth stole glances at her sister and gnawed fretfully on her lower lip.
Jane might appear as serene and lovely as usual to the disinterested observer, but Elizabeth could discern barely perceptible signs that betrayed the uneasiness she sought to hide.
It was in the rigid set of her shoulders, the bland quality of her smile, and the way her fingers worried endlessly at the reticule in her lap.
Elizabeth reached over and squeezed one of Jane’s hands, disengaging it from unravelling the ribbon that tied her bag closed. Her sister returned the gesture. “I am well, Lizzy. Truly I am.”
How like Jane to comfort her when she was the one who required cheering! “You need not dissemble with me, dearest. It is perfectly natural to be nervous in your situation.”
“I ought not to be nervous at all,” decried Jane with a shake of her head. “I am merely calling upon a friend. What is there to be nervous about?”
Calling upon a friend, indeed. Elizabeth contained this bitter thought by biting down on her tongue; Jane was already anxious enough over her reception by Miss Bingley, and she did not wish to add to her sister’s troubles.
In her decided opinion, the lady did not deserve the designation of ‘friend’ after the way she had treated Jane.
Her sister would not see it, would insist that both her letters regarding her visit to town had gone astray, but Elizabeth had never been fooled by Miss Bingley’s false manners.
The lady had never done anything to curry her favour, so Elizabeth had been allowed to see her for what she really was—a deceitful mushroom with aspirations far above her station.
No doubt she had inveigled herself with Jane only to discover some information she could use to dissuade her brother from paying court to a penniless gentlewoman with low connexions.
It was Elizabeth’s great fear that Miss Bingley had succeeded in this endeavour.
Immediately after hosting a ball at Netherfield, the party there had decamped for town without taking proper leave of the neighbourhood.
At first, she had believed that Mr Bingley would return within a fortnight, with or without his sisters’ approbation, but that fortnight had turned into a month with no sign of the house being opened again.
A letter from Miss Bingley had confirmed that they were ensconced in London for the foreseeable future, and all of Jane’s—as well as their mother’s—hopes had been dashed.
Given the steadiness of his attentions whilst in Hertfordshire, Elizabeth could only assume that Mr Bingley had been persuaded against Jane by outside influence, most likely his sisters. And possibly his haughty friend.
Well, we shall see about that! I will not rest until Jane has seen Mr Bingley again.
Unlike her elder sister, Elizabeth was not afraid to be an unrelenting bother, so when the Gardiners had extended their invitation to her as well as Jane to return with them to London after Christmas, she had jumped at the chance with the—admittedly far-fetched—hope that she could somehow facilitate a reunion between the star-crossed lovers.
She had been forced to disappoint Charlotte—who was to marry Mr Collins before the week was out—by declining her invitation to join Sir William and Maria on their holiday to Hunsford at Easter, but she could not repine her decision.
Jane required her, so Elizabeth would put herself at her sister’s disposal.
It was a surprisingly short journey between Cheapside and Mayfair, barely three miles—Roughly the same distance between Longbourn and Netherfield, she wryly observed to herself—and they were soon drawing up to a fashionable address on Grosvenor Street.
Jane’s breath hitched, and Elizabeth squeezed her hand again, lending as much support as she could by the gesture.
Jane offered her a weak smile in return but withdrew it when the door was opened and a hand thrust inside to assist them out.
Jane took it, and Elizabeth released her to the care of the liveried footman with a quick prayer.
Please let Mr Bingley be within and as in love with my sister as ever.
Elizabeth was guided likewise from her uncle’s coach, and the Bennet sisters were led inside a stately town home that boasted an excess of good taste.
And an excess it certainly was, for Elizabeth had rarely seen so many au courant fashions cobbled together in a singular location before.
Whoever had decorated the entry hall meant to impress but clearly had no idea how to go about it other than spending an obscene amount of money.
The papered walls were busy and bright, gilded ornaments were placed on every surface, and there was an enormous chandelier that seemed only precariously suspended above them.
In general, the effect was heavy-handed.
The footman left them standing beneath the behemoth light fixture with a slight bow and a promise to ask whether the ladies of the house were at home to them before disappearing into the central corridor.
They remained awkwardly where they were, Jane resuming the abuse of her reticule the longer they waited and Elizabeth growing increasingly incensed at their rude welcome.
After at least twenty minutes had lapsed—Elizabeth had furiously tracked the time by assiduously watching the hall clock—the footman reappeared and indicated that they ought to follow him from whence he had come.
They did so and were led to a saloon that was somehow more opulent than the entry hall had been but no more handsome for its apparent cost. The residents here are far too enamoured of ormolu.
Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley rose from a couch of pure gold from frame to fabric and dipped identical shallow curtseys.
They smiled, yet Elizabeth sensed it was more out of polite duty than genuine pleasure.
To her mind, they each appeared as if the Bennet ladies had brought a foul smell into the room with them.
“Miss Bennet, Miss Eliza, what a…pleasant surprise,” said Miss Bingley. “We had no notion that you were in town.”
Again, Elizabeth and Jane were left to stand awkwardly as no chairs were offered to them. Jane seemed not to notice as she replied, “Then both of my letters did go astray? I had thought as much.”
The superior sisters exchanged a look and a smirk before turning back to face their guests.
Again, Miss Bingley spoke for the pair of them.
“I suppose they must have, for I had no warning of your call. How unfortunate, for my sister and I are preparing to go out and presently have no time to entertain you.”
“Oh,” said Jane, her shoulders sagging ever so slightly. “That is a shame. I had hoped to renew our acquaintance.”
“A shame, indeed, but we promised Miss Darcy that we would take her out shopping today. You recall that I mentioned her in my correspondence?”
As Miss Bingley’s smile spread, her eyes narrowed, giving her an altogether sinister look. She was naught but a serpent in Elizabeth’s opinion.
“Yes, of course.” Jane swallowed visibly and lowered her head.
“We have been much engaged with her and Mr Darcy of late. My brother, especially. I daresay it will not be long before a certain announcement is made…but then I ought not to speak of such things until they are entirely settled, I suppose.”
“N-no, I suppose not.”
Deciding that Jane had been abused by her supposed ‘friends’ enough by that point, Elizabeth unclenched her jaw to make their excuses and depart.
“We do not wish to intrude any longer upon your…gracious hospitality and so must take our leave. Do give Mr Bingley our warmest regards when you see him.”
Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst stiffened at Elizabeth’s oblique chastisement but could not, apparently, think of a rejoinder to put her in her place.
Instead, they merely fixed her with twin glares of affront.
Unwilling to wait long enough for them to think of something nasty to say, Elizabeth slipped her arm through Jane’s and led them from the room.
Although the trip to Mayfair had been short, somehow the visit they paid had been even shorter—and dismally so.
The silent tears that slid down Jane’s face as they made their return journey to Gracechurch Street informed Elizabeth that her dear sister was hurt by her friends’ cold reception, and she hoped, rather than believed, this would be the end of Jane’s loyalty to them. They surely did not deserve it.
As for their brother, Elizabeth was convinced that only by accident alone would Jane’s presence be revealed to him.
His sisters would certainly not be informing him of it, at any rate, and there was no socially acceptable way to put Jane in his path that she could think of.
Elizabeth cursed the vexing strictures of society that prevented them both from simply paying a visit to the person they most wished to speak to. How ridiculous!
Alas, that was the way of the world. As much as Elizabeth longed to champion her sister’s cause and thwart the evil witches who sought to hurt her, she was at a loss for what to do next.
Should an opportunity present itself, however, she would take it without compunction.
All she could do for the nonce was wait and watch.