Chapter 3 #2
“How could she talk like that?” Elizabeth demanded of Jane as soon as they were alone.
“It seems that our mother has put herself at the centre of some of the most undignified and degrading gossip in the neighbourhood, but she will not be told. It is no wonder that Lydia is as she is with such an example.”
“How awful,” Jane agreed, her face pale and her blue eyes distressed. “Poor Mr Darcy! I cannot bear the thought of such horrible rumours reaching his ears. It will not make him think any more warmly of our neighbourhood, will it?”
Elizabeth shook her head grimly.
“Mr Darcy might be cold, proud and rude, but it is very wrong that people should talk like this of him behind his back,” she said.
“If Mother and her friends had merely criticised his manners and attitude, I certainly should not defend him, for that would be his own doing and well-deserved. This rumour, however, reflects far more badly on the gossips themselves than on Mr Darcy.”
“I quite agree with you,” said Jane. “Poor Mr Darcy, and poor Mr Bingley. I do hope that this fades away before either of them hears of it.”
Their conversation paused then, on hearing the sound of approaching hoofbeats outside. Both going to the window, they saw a servant tie his horse at Longbourn’s front gate and proceed up the path to meet Mrs Hill, who wiped her hands on her apron before taking receipt of an envelope from the man.
“I wonder who that is from?” Elizabeth thought aloud. “He does not look like he rode very far, does he? Maybe Aunt Philips is organising another afternoon of card games in Meryton.”
Jane shook her head.
“Aunt Philips never loses the chance to walk over to Longbourn herself and be the first to pass any new gossip to Mother.”
“True,” Elizabeth acknowledged the point. “Come, let us go and see for ourselves.”
Emerging into the hallway, they almost collided with Mrs Bennet, who had also seen the messenger from an upstairs window and changed her mind about taking to her bed. Mr Bennet too, though more reluctantly, came out of his library again after hearing all the voices in the hallway.
“I knew it!” their mother pronounced triumphantly as soon as she took the envelope from the housekeeper and read the address. “It is from Netherfield Park, and addressed to Jane.”
For a moment, it seemed that Mrs Bennet would open the envelope itself in her excitement.
At the last moment, she remembered herself and passed it to her eldest daughter.
While Jane did not display the same obvious excitement and impatience as her mother, Elizabeth saw her sister bite her lip and tremble slightly as she broke the wax seal and unfolded the paper.
“Well, Jane, what does it say?” Mrs Bennet demanded before there had been time to even read the full message. “Is it from Mr Bingley?”
Elizabeth looked askance at her mother, who was well aware of the impropriety of a gentleman writing to an unmarried young lady outside his family circle. Mrs Bennet, however, noticed nothing of this.
“It is from Miss Caroline Bingley,” Jane said slowly, a faint smile curving her lips. “I am invited to dine with her and Mrs Hurst at Netherfield Park tomorrow evening.”
Mrs Bennet positively crowed at this development. “I knew it!” she said again. “I knew Mr Bingley could not go a single day without seeing you again, Jane. I saw how he looked at you all evening in the assembly rooms. Did I not say, Mr Bennet —”
“Mr Bingley and the other gentlemen will not be there,” Jane broke in hurriedly, blushing in embarrassment at her mother’s words. “They will be out for the whole evening and will not return to Netherfield Park until late. It seems that is why the ladies wish for more company.”
This part of the news stopped Mrs Bennet in her tracks, and her brow creased in annoyance.
“How nonsensical! You cannot possibly go to Netherfield Park and not see Mr Bingley, Jane. We cannot stand for that.”
“Shall I tell Mr Hill that the carriage will be needed for Jane tomorrow?” Elizabeth broke in, hoping to distract her mother from this irrational line of complaint. “He will need to have the horses ready in good time.”
“Carriage? Jane doesn’t need the carriage. She must go on horseback,” Mrs Bennet pronounced with sudden inspiration that mystified everyone else in the hallway.
“The weather is likely to be no better tomorrow than today,” Elizabeth pointed out. “There is a high chance of heavy rain again, and Jane is likely to be soaked to the skin by the time she gets to Netherfield Park.”
“Precisely,” Mrs Bennet replied gleefully. “If Jane is caught in the rain, she will have to be dried and stay longer. If the rain continues after supper, likely Miss Bingley will invite her to stay overnight, and Jane can breakfast with Mr Bingley after all.”
“Mother!” Elizabeth protested, seeing Jane’s crestfallen face and looking to her father for assistance.
“Lord defend us!” Mr Bennet muttered, and promptly disappeared back into his library.
“I shall not hear another word upon the matter,” declared Mrs Bennet. “Now, I must go and look at Jane’s dresses and decide what is best to wear for riding and then supper in November.”
When Elizabeth moved to pursue Mrs Bennet upstairs, Jane held her back.
“Do not trouble yourself, Lizzy,” her sister pleaded. “Mother means well, and if we vex her, she might decide that I am not to go. I would like to know Caroline Bingley better. Anyway, it may not rain after all. None of us can say for certain, and we should hope for the best.”
Elizabeth sighed and acceded.
“Very well, Jane, but I do not feel easy about this.”