Chapter 11 #2
“Mr Bingley, Mr Darcy — ugh! Why must we always talk so much of these gentlemen at the table? There are so many handsome officers now at Meryton. I should much rather talk of them instead, especially Lieutenant Wickham,” complained the youngest Bennet daughter, to sympathetic noises from Kitty beside her. “I am sure even Lizzy agrees with me!”
“Yes, I do,” Elizabeth answered with a nod, for once glad that Lydia and Kitty were interested only in frivolous subjects. “Is Aunt Philips going to be holding another open house for the officers next week?”
“Oh yes, she promised,” Kitty piped up at once, to sighs of resignation from Mr Bennet. “There will be cards and dancing again. Denny has said that all the officers will be there, including Wickham, whatever day it might be…”
As Lydia and Kitty sailed away on a steady tide of red coats, handsome faces and dancing skills, Elizabeth felt great relief and even a little genuine interest.
She had regretted George Wickham’s absence from the Netherfield Park ball and supposed he had thought better of coming face to face with Mr Darcy.
She could not blame him for that, having seen how the latter’s face changed at any mention of Mr Wickham.
Whatever had happened between the two men, the enmity it had created could not be doubted.
“…and Sir William Lucas has promised a dance after Christmas too,” Lydia added, after having exhausted the social opportunities offered by Mrs Philips. “Mrs Forster was most delighted and made Colonel Forster swear that all the officers might attend.”
“I do hope Mr Bingley is back at Netherfield Park by Christmas,” remarked Mrs Bennet, her mind returning to her original unwelcome topic of conversation and her speculative eye returning to Jane.
“I dare say they would have some kind of party for the neighbourhood, or at least for their greatest friends…”
Under the table, Elizabeth squeezed Jane’s hand.
∞∞∞
“I swear I am as stuffed as our goose!” Lydia declared, throwing herself down on the smaller of the two sofas in the parlour in a most undignified fashion after the family had finished their Christmas supper. “How uncomfortable I am.”
“Maybe you should not have had three helpings of meat and then pudding, never mind so much wine,” suggested Mrs Gardiner, although with an indulgent smile.
“Oh, but it’s Christmas, Aunt!” protested Lydia. “I could not help myself with so much good food on the table.”
“My little Jasper would have copied you if his father and I had not been firm with him,” her aunt commented, shaking her head ruefully. “But then, Jasper is not yet six.”
“You must be firm with yourself, Lydia, at almost sixteen,” Elizabeth added from her place standing beside the window.
“My Lydia is still a growing girl,” Mrs Bennet spoke up in defence of her favourite daughter. “She needs to eat more than the others.”
As she moved across to the sofa where Lydia lay and took the girl’s head on her lap, Mrs Gardiner and Elizabeth shared a look of resigned disapproval. They shared the view that Lydia was too young to be out in company, and such displays as this only proved it further.
On a rug near the fireplace, Jane was playing both dolls and toy soldiers with the four young Gardiners, being their favourite cousin and the most sympathetic to children.
Meanwhile, Mr Bennet, Mr Gardiner, and Mary sat in the three armchairs with books to which they were paying greater or lesser attention.
Kitty had vanished to her room, likely sulking over Lydia finding two of the six silver sixpences in her Christmas pudding while she had found none. Elizabeth’s observation that Kitty should take comfort in being less greedy than Lydia had provided no consolation.
“How is Jane?” Mrs Gardiner asked Elizabeth softly, for her ears only. “Your mother wrote that Netherfield Park is still empty. Jane seems a little quiet and pale.”
Elizabeth nodded and came to sit on the arm of the larger sofa beside her aunt.
“Yes, Jane puts a brave face on it, but I can see how upset she is every time we walk past Netherfield and see the windows still shuttered.”
“Has there been no word at all in the past few weeks? No indication of Mr Bingley’s return?”
Elizabeth felt her eyes narrow as she formed her response.
“Miss Bingley has certainly written to Jane, several times in fact. She has written to tell Jane of all the dances and parties she is attending in London, and scarcely a word of her brother except to note that he is very popular with all the young ladies in their circle, including Miss Darcy.”
“A change of scene might help,” her aunt murmured, glancing towards the group on the rug. “I am minded to take Jane back to London with me, if your mother can spare her. Do you think that a good idea, Lizzy?”
“Oh, very good indeed,” agreed Elizabeth with some zeal. “London would be the best place for Jane.”
“We live quietly in Gracechurch Street and move in very different circles to the Bingleys,” Mrs Gardiner thought to warn her. “You must not assume that Jane is likely to meet Mr Bingley.”
“Well, if he knows she is in London, he must surely call with his sister, must he not?” Elizabeth suggested.
Her aunt shrugged. “Perhaps,” Mrs Gardiner said with a smile and another glance at the group by the fireside. “We shall see. I shall speak with Jane after the children are in bed.”
∞∞∞
The next morning, half of the household seemed sluggish or indisposed, with Mrs Bennet and Lydia both taken to their beds and Kitty joining them in either sympathy or jealousy.
Despite their toys and other presents, the children were fractious too, perhaps from their own surfeit of Christmas treats, or simply the after-effects of the previous day’s excitement.
Mr Bennet had taken refuge in his library.
Elizabeth spoke to Mrs Hill, made arrangements for the supposed invalids, and dealt with other household issues while Jane helped Mrs Gardiner with the children, all of whom were delighted to learn that she would be returning with them to Gracechurch Street after the holiday.
The news raised their spirits sufficiently to drive off any previous ill-temper, although their energetic joy was equally challenging.
When the sound of footsteps on the drive turned out to herald the arrival of Charlotte Lucas, Elizabeth considered it a very welcome distraction from a busy morning’s work.
“Won’t you come in and have some tea with us, Miss Lucas?” Mrs Gardiner invited her, after Elizabeth brought her friend to the parlour to greet Jane and her aunt. “Mrs Bennet is unwell today, but I know she would want us to offer you hospitality.”
Charlotte smiled but shook her head.
“You are very kind, Mrs Gardiner, but I shall not today. As I have already told Lizzy, I only stopped by to see whether she would like to join me for a longer walk. If Lizzy is not free, I shall continue on my way. I hope we shall see you all at Lucas Lodge for the dance tomorrow, of course.”
As her friend was speaking, Elizabeth turned enquiring eyes on Jane, doubting the fairness of leaving her sister and aunt to cope with the whole household.
“You must go with Charlotte, Lizzy,” Jane said at once, understanding the unspoken question. “You have already arranged everything for luncheon and supper. Aunt Gardiner and I can see to anything else.”
With a grateful smile, Elizabeth took her leave, and the two young women were soon wrapped up for the cold December weather and strolling arm in arm along the path towards Netherfield, intending to make a circuit of that estate and then come home.
“How glad I am to be out!” Elizabeth declared as soon as they were away from Longbourn. “Oh, how my mother and Lydia have been driving me to distraction! Poor Jane, too, has not been allowed to forget Mr Bingley for one second. It is well that she goes to London with my uncle and aunt.”
“Jane ought to have secured him when she could,” remarked Charlotte, quite in earnest despite Elizabeth’s little laugh.
“Secured him? You make men sound like horses that might bolt,” Elizabeth joked.
“That is not an entirely unfitting analogy,” Charlotte replied. “If only Jane had given Mr Bingley more assurance of her affections, he might have made her an offer before he left. Now, who knows how his feelings could change after these weeks away?”
Elizabeth squeezed her friend’s arm.
“You know how modest and shy Jane is, Charlotte,” she pointed out. “Mr Bingley will have to make the first move in their game. It could not be otherwise.”
“Then the game might be over,” Charlotte said, rather too baldly for Elizabeth’s taste. “It must be played boldly, or not at all.”
“Look at us, a pair of spinsters, talking about offers of marriage as though either of us knew the first thing about engagements or how to proceed!” Elizabeth jested, intending then to lead them off the subject.
“Each of us knows more than others might guess,” was Charlotte’s peculiar reply, making Elizabeth realise that there had been something more than a little odd in Charlotte’s manner since she first rang the bell at Longbourn. “I do have some news for you, Lizzy.”
“What? Do not tell me you are getting married!” Elizabeth teased her and then stopped as she saw that Charlotte’s face was still entirely serious.
“Yes, I am. I wanted you to be the first to know now that the contract has been drawn up and everything is arranged between my father and Mr Collins —”
“Mr Collins?” interrupted Elizabeth in loud disbelief, stopping dead in her tracks and staring at her friend as though she had gone mad. “Mr Collins?! You are joking, aren’t you?”
“Mr Collins and I are to marry at St. Anne’s church as soon as the banns have been fully read,” Charlotte told her with calm determination. “
“No, you cannot, surely…” Elizabeth stumbled on, still. “For he is so… And you are… Oh, Charlotte, forgive me.”
Charlotte sighed and led Elizabeth to a stile where they might both sit for a few minutes.