Chapter 1.9 #5
“No indeed, sir, why should I be upset? Surely it is my uncle’s privilege to receive any guests he pleases into his own home.
” She struggled to maintain her calm, yet she desperately searched for a reason to retire to her room.
She needed to think, and she needed to write her aunt immediately!
Mrs Gardiner was the only one who could clarify things for her.
“Lady Cassandra did not seem as friendly as Darcy was to your relatives, to tell the truth. In fact, I dare say she highly disapproved of Darcy’s closeness to the Gardiners.
And even more so—as we are now brother and sister—I must warn you she confessed to me she cared not at all about Lydia or any of your family. ”
“Sir, I am truly surprised that Lady Cassandra would confess such a thing to you in my uncle’s house in the presence of my relatives.”
He appeared clearly disconcerted and averted his eyes instantly; his countenance changed. “It was not in Mr Gardiner’s house…we met one day, and it was then that we spoke.”
“I see…You met Lady Cassandra privately? That is also astonishing as I know from an impeccable source that Lady Cassandra does not care much for you either, sir.” Before he found words to reply, she continued.
“It appears that your time in London was rather eventful. In a short time, you met my uncle and aunt, Mr Darcy and also Lady Cassandra more than once while you managed to arrange your marriage to my sister and obtain a new commission. You have all my admiration for such efficiency, sir—as I said, quite astonishing!”
As she spoke, her words seemed to clarify the answers to some of her tormenting questions.
Everything sounded so logical and clear that she was afraid to dare believe it.
Everything was connected; she could now see that clearly.
But how tightly things were connected and to whom she had no courage even to presume.
She needed certainties not wild guesses, and she knew to whom to apply.
“If you will be so kind as to excuse me now, sir, I have to join my sisters and spend a little time with them. Lydia will leave tomorrow, and I have hardly spoken to her at all.”
The rest of the evening, Elizabeth could do nothing but consider the extraordinary information she had discovered.
That night, she wrote a long letter to her aunt, asking for all the details of Mr Darcy’s presence and his meetings with Mr Wickham.
The letter was sent the next morning, and Elizabeth began to count the hours until Mrs Gardiner’s reply might arrive.
∞∞∞
A week after the Wickhams left, Mrs Philips barged into the house, her impatient voice resounding in every corner. Netherfield was re-opened, and Mr Bingley was expected back, together with a large party of friends.
From that time, Jane began to blossom. She would not admit that her changed state had anything to do with the long-expected return of a certain neighbour, but her beauty and the light in her eyes spoke more than her words.
Jane was happy and hopeful and so was Elizabeth —not for herself but for her sister.
If Mr Bingley had decided to return, then Jane must be the reason for his decision. At least she would be happy.
Mr Bingley’s party finally arrived, and the news reached Longbourn just before dinner; Mrs Bennet’s agitation was unbearable, and dinner turned into a noisy argument.
Mr Bennet strongly resisted his wife’s demand that he visit Mr Bingley first thing the next morning.
His refusal made Mrs Bennet more impatient, and her nerves overwhelmed her appetite while she insisted—with no success—that Jane and Elizabeth support her demand.
As she did so many times before during those weeks, Elizabeth resisted sleep that night.
She wondered continually about the identity of the other members of the Netherfield party, and she dared not allow hope to envelop her heart.
Even if he had come with the others, surely his intentions toward her had utterly changed.
No matter how strong his feelings for her at Pemberley, they could never overcome a sentiment as natural as abhorrence for a relationship with Wickham!
Every kind of pride must revolt at the connection.
No, there was no hope that her mind could admit.
The next morning, Elizabeth woke with the sun after several hours of restless sleep. She needed fresh air to breathe and solitude for her memories.
As she left the house, her steps took her along old and well-known paths until her home was far behind and the beautiful prospect of Netherfield appeared before her.
She stared at the big house until her eyes hurt, though she knew it was not possible actually to see anyone.
Upset with her own foolishness, she turned and walked back as quickly as she could.
She closed her eyes as the wind caressed her face and took off her bonnet, allowing the breeze to play in her hair.
Her soul was still heavy, and her heart still a prisoner of her grief—but at least she could breathe.
And she could dream in the daylight, a dream so real that she could feel his presence behind her; she was still convinced she was dreaming when she heard his voice softly calling her name.
“Miss Bennet…I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you.”