Chapter Five
Jane folded the pages of notes that Elizabeth had composed about her life at Netherfield, and tucked them into her reticule.
She had studied it nearly all the way from Weymouth – when she was not re-reading Frank’s parting letter.
His words were reassuring – he apologized for being obliged to depart without an opportunity to bid her farewell in person, he reminded her of his devotion, and he even promised to find some chance to visit her soon… in Highbury.
But she could not fret over that . She arrived at Netherfield and knew at once, as she gazed up at the grand stone edifice, that she must keep her wits about her if she was to stay true to her purpose and not be found out.
Jane had known it would be a large manor house, but she was not prepared for the sentiments that overpowered her as she alighted the carriage.
She felt her good fortune at once, that she might reside in the house with all the privileges of a woman who would one day be mistress of the place, but it was mere moments before the doubts crept into her mind.
This was far above any of the places she had resided with the Campbells, when they had followed the colonel’s regiment around the country.
The colonel always secured them the finest house in the village wherever they went, and his wife brought a modest fortune into the union, holding excellent dinners and entertainments.
But Netherfield was grander even than her aunt’s home in Weymouth, and Jane felt herself an outsider before she had even entered the house.
The front doors were thrown open, and a handsome man in his middle forties hastened toward her with arms outstretched.
Jane would have known him anywhere, in an instant.
He still resembled the man in her half of the watercolor, the fair-haired soldier reciting sonnets.
He possessed that same twinkle of wit in his eye, the same broad and affectionate smile, and even the same endearing wispy quality in his hair, which now bore traces of silver amidst the sandy blond.
“Well, Lizzy! You decided to come back to me, did you? No midnight elopements to Gretna with one of Lady Gresham's fancy friends?”
Jane stood rooted in place as he approached her, and finally managed to shake her head. “No indeed; I have longed to see you.”
“Well, now, let us not spoil your return on a fib, eh? You have dutifully returned, despite I daresay manifold attractions that might have kept you at the seaside all summer! I hope the house party was not too dull for your mockery.”
Jane could easily imagine her sister threatening not to return, but stay indefinitely at the seaside, for Elizabeth had reveled in so many sea bathing excitations and walks along the shore.
She knew some banter was expected of her, and she had even rehearsed with her sister some saucy repartee, but it was all lost to her as her emotions swelled in her chest.
Her father . A living, breathing man; a ghost no longer. He was full of vitality and affection, and when he was close enough, Jane threw herself into his arms.
He patted her back a few times before finally returning her embrace. “My goodness, Lizzy; I hope your trip was not unpleasant.”
“No, Papa – I can honestly say that it was the most wonderful journey I have ever taken.”
“Ha! You mean the only one you have ever taken! See how she is already berating me, and will likely wish to traipse away on another holiday again in a fortnight?”
This banter he directed at a kindly woman who had hung back a little as Mr. Bennet greeted his daughter.
The woman, who Jane knew must be Bessie Hill, gave Mr. Bennet a playful shake of her head.
“Well, seein’ as how it would serve you right, I shan’t discourage her from the notion. ” She gave Jane a friendly wink.
“And now I am again outnumbered!” Mr. Bennet offered Jane his arm and then rested his other hand atop hers as he led her into the house.
“But come and tell us everything, for Hill will not be satisfied until she has heard that half a dozen gentlemen fell in love with you, and you saw a variety of sea monsters who offered a happy alternative to your many beaux.”
And now Jane was obliged to begin their reunion with a fib – well, a partial truth.
Jane herself had fallen even more in love than ever with Frank, but Elizabeth had only two gentlemen flirt with her.
The faithless Mr. Dixon had continued his unseemly and unwanted addresses, and Sir Duncan had put forward his son, Jerome Gresham, who was, according to Elizabeth, far from inspiring anything kinder than a mildly disgusted sort of ennui.
Indeed, Jane had written down some of her sister’s remarks on the company they had kept so that she might speak as Elizabeth did, for her own voice was far kinder.
Mrs. Hill came forward and fussed over her, and Jane could see at once that her sister’s praise of the woman had not been exaggerated.
The housekeeper was the widow of a captain who had been in the militia with Mr. Bennet, and she had known Elizabeth all her life; it seemed likely to the sisters that Bessie Hill knew all about Jane, too.
She managed to give voice to a few of the playful remarks she had transcribed, and then Jane took advantage of Hill’s assumption that she must wish to refresh herself.
She promised her father a great many diverting anecdotes when she returned to the parlor, and then Jane focused her mind on navigating the house, for she had memorized a map Elizabeth drew for her.
Jane found Elizabeth’s room with no difficulty and breathed a sigh of relief when she closed the door behind herself.
She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror above the vanity table at the back of the room.
Her hair had not fully darkened yet, in the week since she had first begun washing it with the dyed soap, but it was browner than what she was accustomed to seeing in the mirror.
She stepped toward the vanity and gazed at her reflection, attempting to rally her courage as Elizabeth managed so effortlessly.
“I am Lizzy Bennet, an heiress of fortune and property, and a clever, outspoken creature, fond of walking and reading and company. The follies of others, their whims and inconsistencies delight me, and I take pleasure in amusing Papa with my observations. I have never been frightened of anybody or anything in the whole course of my life. I can do this.”
Beyond the wide window at one side of the room, the sun broke through the clouds and Jane smiled to herself as sunlight poured in through the open curtains, as if this illumination was a good omen. And then she began to really take in her surroundings.
Elizabeth’s room was just what it ought to be, she supposed.
It seemed in every way to belong to her sister, from the cheerful greens and golds of the elegant decor, to the pile of books on the bedside table, and the worn old walking boots in the corner.
Above the hearth was a large framed watercolor Elizabeth had made of a smaller house surrounded by a pretty little wilderness, with the caption ‘ Longbourn in Summer ’ at the bottom in elegant script.
Jane let curiosity take over, her apprehensions forgotten as she began searching for other traces of Elizabeth.
She looked at the contents of the vanity, the tasteful and simplistic variety of jewelry and hair accessories that seemed exactly suited to her sister’s style and personality – things far finer than anything Jane owned.
She opened the armoire and looked at Elizabeth’s wardrobe, gently and reverently running her fingers over so many fine gowns she longed to wear.
There were three pairs of dancing slippers, and it was evident which pair Elizabeth favored, for the cerulean velvet slippers embroidered with green and orange vines showed far more signs of wear than the simple ivory ones, or the pale pink pair with silver rosettes which Jane might prefer.
There was a gentle tapping at the side door, and then her maid entered. “Jenny,” Jane said with a smile at instantly remembering the correct name.
“Welcome back, Miss Lizzy,” the girl said with a bright smile. “Andy took your trunk down to the laundry; Mrs. Hill said your gowns would need airing out. Would you like to dress for dinner a little early?”
“Good Heavens, what is the time?”
“Half past four.” The maid looked at her expectantly, and Jane recalled that the Bennets dined at an earlier hour than the Bates household.
“Splendid,” Jane said with a nod. She spoke little as Jenny attended to her, and belatedly realized that her maid seemed to expect more conversation. But by the time she had summoned something to say, the girl declared her work finished, and she sullenly took her leave.
Jane chose a dress in Elizabeth’s favorite color. The pistachio sprigged muslin looked very becoming with her somewhat darkened hair, though there was a gown in a deeper emerald which Jane was eager to don once the dyed soap took full effect on her coiffure.
She chose the simplest jewelry available, and at the last minute added one finishing touch – the hair comb their mother had given Elizabeth. Perhaps Mr. Bennet would recognize it; she might plant the first of many seeds that would flower into a beautiful reconciliation between her parents.
When Jane presented herself downstairs, Hill informed her that her father had been detained in his study with some estate business the steward wished to discuss.
Jane smiled proudly as she inquired after the steward’s wife and newborn son, and Hill promptly provided a quarter hour of gossip about all the tenants and locals, until Jane’s head was fairly spinning from so much information.