Chapter Five #3
He gave Jane a troubled, wary look, and fidgeted a little.
“I suppose I thought it would be better to wait until we were together again – blasted Larkins and his broken fence,” he grumbled.
“Well, Lizzy, it is true, I went to London of a mind to fight the entail and prevent that fatuous blabberer from inheriting Longbourn, and sullying generations of Bennet history with his useless inanities! Well! I did not accomplish what I set out to in that respect, but as fate would have it, I rather stumbled into a happy alternative.”
“He stumbled into me ,” Miss Bingley cried, patting the sofa bedside herself and beckoning Mr. Bennet to sit with her.
When he did so, she linked her arm possessively through his.
“We both had perhaps one glass too many of John Knightley’s finest champagne and commiserated in our troubles together.
La, but that sounds rather shocking! He did not literally stumble into me – I only meant that in the throes of our own disappointments, we found very happy companionship on that, and many subsequent occasions. ”
“John Knightley!” Jane sat up straighter at this familiar name.
“My solicitor in London, and an old friend – surely you have heard me mention him a hundred times,” Mr. Bennet said. “I recall I introduced you briefly when we were in London.”
Hill had returned to refresh their tea, and she subtly gave Jane a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, her gaze offering another silent apology for the shock of meeting Miss Bingley in such a way.
“I am acquainted with Mrs. Knightley through a mutual friend, Lady Parkwell,” Miss Bingley said.
“Her husband is such a droll fellow! But he insisted he must introduce me to an old friend of his who was sure to be charmed by a pretty face. Well, I thought he was having me on, or meant to tease me by presenting some preening puppy or leering lecher – but in Mr. Bennet I discovered such a charming beau!”
“And I cannot account for how a woman of such beauty can bear the cynical mutterings of a man twice her age – I had never thought I should be attached to a woman quite out of her wits – but Miss Bingley bore my ill humor so well that evening that on the occasion of our next meeting, I found myself perfectly willing to behave well.” Mr. Bennet gazed happily at his future bride and then cast Jane another look of discomfort.
“Well, now, I think my Lizzy is ready to send word to Bedlam at hearing me speak so sentimentally.”
“No indeed,” Miss Bingley purred. “We are sure to be the very best of friends, and my friend would never deprive me of you and all your odd humors – not to mention your excellent library! I do hope the house Charles has taken has such a fine collection, else I fear you shall never wish to visit him.”
“See, Lizzy,” Mr. Bennet said with a hesitant smile. “You shall have feminine company in the library when your mania for novels overtakes your more sensible inclinations.”
“I cannot wait to compare our taste in this, and in all things,” Miss Bingley said.
“Surely when you regale us with tales of your time in Weymouth, we shall uncover a mutual fondness for society and house parties of quality – though alas I share your father’s aversion to dancing.
But another time, I shall look forward to it!
I had thought we might dine all together, but perhaps tomorrow would be more convenient for you – I can receive you at Longbourn, where I am staying with my sister and her husband Mr. Hurst.”
Mr. Bennet raised a brow in surprise. “Are you not staying for dinner, my dear? You are dressed for it.”
Miss Bingley stroked Mr. Bennet’s arm with a coquettish smile, “Of course I shall, if you wish it. I only fear your ward is too tired for conversation, after travelling so far. We ought to be merciful and allow her a tray in her room, but perhaps you and I might dine al fresco on the terrace, as we did last week?”
Jane had no wish to spend an entire dinner alone with the couple making such a sickening display, and she instantly agreed to retire directly, hardly caring when her dinner was sent up, or if it ever did.
Mr. Bennet reached out and caught Jane by the hand. “A moment, my dear – are you unwell?”
“Only tired,” Jane said, refusing to turn her gaze to Miss Bingley.
Mr. Bennet studied her for a moment. “There is something altered in your bearing – your hair seems a shade lighter – but of course you have been out in the sun a great deal,” he mused, stroking his chin. “Oh! Your ears – you have had them pierced! Lizzy, whatever possessed you?”
Jane instinctively brought her fingers up to her lobes.
She had given Elizabeth their grandmother’s pearl earrings, and purchased an inexpensive pair of silver filigree seashells in Weymouth.
“My friend coaxed me into it one evening when we were up to some mischief,” she said with what she hoped was a convincing smirk.
“Have you developed some sense of vanity while you were away? I shall faint dead away if you inform me there was my gentlemen you wished to adorn yourself to dazzle.” Mr. Bennet rested a hand on his heart; beside him, Miss Bingley looked away, for she had been caught out in exaggerating Mr. Bennet’s desire for his daughter to find a suitor.
“It was merely a lark between girls after too much wine,” Jane said, steeling herself to meet Miss Bingley’s eye. “I have no intention of leaving you any time soon, Papa, though I believe tonight I shall retire early. I shall be rested to spend the day with you tomorrow.”
Jane felt her insides screaming in rebelling at such a firm speech as this, and she hastened from the room before she berated her true feeling of defeat and dismay.
This time the corrupt gave her a little confusion as she moved through the unfamiliar house with tears forming in her eyes.
As soon as she was finally alone in her sister’s room, Jane threw herself down on the bed and wept.
This was a disaster! Elizabeth had told her nothing of their father that would have led her to expect this, that he should become engaged to anybody – least of all a fawning and false creature who made it clear she wished to supplant Mr. Bennet’s daughter in his affections.
After more than twenty years, Jane had finally come to meet her father, only for her place in his home and his heart to be taken by a woman who must surely be after his fortune and property.
She paced the room, wept some more, and then paced again.
Her dinner was brought up and Jane seated herself, staring at the tray as if scarcely seeing it.
The appetizing smell did not entice her to take even a bite, and she abandoned the meal after a half hour of sitting utterly still, her posture slumping and her plate untouched.
Finally, Jane went to a small, elegant escritoire and began to pen a frantic letter to her sister. Elizabeth was bolder and clever than she, and would surely know what to do to prevent Miss Bingley from spoiling their plans, and perhaps ruining one or both of their lives.