Chapter Twelve #2
“Yes, perhaps that would be wise,” Miss Bingley replied. “They had better give notice now, while Eliza has time to write them letters of recommendation. As a married woman, I shall have little time for such things, when I am mistress of the house.”
“Then as you are not mistress yet, I shall have Cook send the menu up for Lizzy to review,” Bessie said.
Jane smiled tightly. “Thank you, Bessie. I am not one to criticize another woman’s hospitality, but Lady Gresham’s taste in dishes is nothing like my own, and after three weeks of exotic curries and adventurous spices, I should be glad to enjoy all of my favorites.”
“How admirable of you Eliza, that you are so keen to resume your duties, when I had wanted to plan an evening in your honor. You are proving difficult to impress.”
Mr. Bennet gave a little roll of his eyes before taking Miss Bingley’s hand in his. “There is no better gift for my Lizzy than letting her have her own way.”
“Certainly,” Miss Bingley purred. “I am determined that we shall reach an accord that will serve us well in the future. I have some splendid ideas already.”
“Of course you have, Miss Bingley,” Jane said, glancing nervously between her father and his betrothed. “ You have had time to prepare yourself. Having learned only yesterday that I face such an alteration in my circumstances, I am naturally still thinking merely of my long-standing habits.”
Mr. Bennet clinked his teacup down on the table.
“Habits and routines have ever been our custom, Lizzy. We have our Sunday afternoon ride to look forward to; perhaps we better make ready. Would you like to join us, Caroline? My offer stands; I would be happy to teach you. Lizzy is still learning herself. We have been but a few months in this particular custom.”
“Do you not ride much in London? Well, I wager you do not have the appropriate attire, Miss Bingley. Lizzy has several riding outfits, though all but one are presently being mended,” Bessie said with a pleasant expression.
“Of course you two must keep your riding custom,” Miss Bingley said sweetly.
“I will speak to the cook anyhow; Louisa and her husband have some singular preferences, which I must ensure we can accommodate. One day you may yet tempt me to ride, my dear Mr. Bennet, but presently I daresay your ward must have a great many questions for you about how our future life shall be.”
Miss Bingley took her leave, and Jane suppressed a smile.
She and Miss Dixon had taken up riding a few years ago, when her friend had fancied a baronet with a passion for breeding horses.
If Miss Bingley was unable to participate, Jane anticipated that she would be taking frequent rides about the countryside with her father.
She went upstairs and changed into her sister’s finely made red and blue riding habit, noting two other perfectly serviceable riding outfits in the armoire, despite what Bessie had said.
Jane met her father in the stables after consulting the map Elizabeth drew for her.
She recalled that within a few months of taking up riding, she was quite proficient, and so she did not trouble herself to feign any want of competence; she mounted Elizabeth’s horse and kept apace with her father as they cantered across the meadow.
This provided a miscalculation, for Mr. Bennet was full of praise and teasing as he expressed his amazement at her progress, and Jane was obliged to say that she had done a great deal of riding in Weymouth.
She soon realized, however, that her father was stalling; she suspected he wished to delay addressing Miss Bingley’s presumption.
So, too, did Jane. Elizabeth would have been outraged, and Jane was indeed a little offended, but more than anything, she wished her time at Netherfield could be all that she had expected, unblemished by the unwelcome presence of Miss Bingley.
She wished to simply enjoy the afternoon with her father.
They rode past the furthest boundary of Netherfield, and a great deal of the way up Oakham Mount, until Mr. Bennet grew tired.
He dismounted and tied his horse on a low hanging oak branch, and Jane did the same.
She followed him a few paces beyond the sparse pines and low brush, where a clearing afforded them a panoramic view of the countryside beyond.
The cheerful edifice of Netherfield, with its noble columns and rows of gleaming windows, sat on a low rise, and a ha-ha ran across the meadow, with the little lake sparkling in the sunlight beyond it.
In that moment, Jane felt her sister was practically a queen, for she had been – and someday would be again – mistress of all this.
Elizabeth had drawn Jane a map of the house and grounds, and she had also made a map of the surrounding countryside, for Jane would be wise to continue her sister’s custom of long walks in the morning.
Jane surveyed the area with wonder and delight.
Meryton lay beyond Netherfield, a little north of being directly between Meryton and Longbourn.
Jane identified what must be Longbourn; Elizabeth said that she walked there sometimes, taking a straighter path through the fields than passing through the village.
Longbourn – where she and Elizabeth ought to have been born, where they perhaps might have grown up with sisters, even a brother to supplant the odious Mr. Collins.
Jane could not make out much of it, but she wished to explore the place; it was a bitter notion to think that Miss Bingley and her relations were presently residing there.
Jane made a point of looking for Lucas Lodge, a red stone building that lay to the south of the village, dividing the holdings of Longbourn and Netherfield. Jane made note of the narrow road from Meryton to the Lucases’ home, for Elizabeth would be expected to call on her friends there.
It bolstered Jane to remember that she had allies here; Charlotte had spoken plainly of her dislike for Miss Bingley and hinted that all the Lucases shared this view, though Elizabeth had said Sir William Lucas always liked everybody.
Even Bessie Hill had brazenly defied Miss Bingley; she seemed to have no fear of her employer, the dearest friend of her late husband.
Mr. Bennet sat down on the grass, leaning back against an old fallen tree trunk, and he beckoned for Jane to join him. “Well, my dear, you have been very civil to Miss Bingley. Shall you now tell me what you really think?”
This was something Jane had been rarely called upon to do before she met Elizabeth. She could not but marvel at her sister’s ease and wit in speaking her mind; now she must be convincing in emulating such candor. It helped that her feelings were just what her sister’s would be at such a time.
“Was it not ill-bred of her to attempt to act as mistress of the house before you are actually married? Surely such behavior in London would make a scandal.”
“She has been soundly admonished by our Bessie. I fear Caroline will have to accustom herself to a housekeeper who is the great tyrant of the manor.”
“You would not allow her to dismiss Bessie, would you?”
“I should sooner fear Bessie giving her notice if Caroline works her into too great of a temper,” Mr. Bennet chuckled.
“But that would be just as awful,” Jane gasped.
“Especially for you, Lizzy, if you are resolved to let Bessie fight your battles for you. You have been uncommonly well-behaved to Caroline, and it frightens me out of my wits that you are likely planning some secret mutiny.”
Jane turned her face away with a private smile, but this soon gave way to a modicum of hurt. “You knew I would dislike her, but proposed to her anyhow?”
“I hoped you would vent your spleen at me, do your worst, and then one day astonish me by uniting with her against me. I recall you initially thought Charlotte Lucas a simpering flirt, and only forged a permanent alliance with her when you came to her aid by throwing rocks at her brother with her when he cut down your favorite climbing tree.”
Jane had nothing to say to this revelation, and desperately wished Elizabeth were here to rail at their father. “I do not want to live in a home where anybody is against anyone else.”
Her father smiled sadly. “She is not like Lady Amelia. You are older and more capable of defending, and Caroline is entering this marriage with open eyes, unlike my first wife. She has no reason to resent you. She will give me an heir to Longbourn, and I shall give her a generous allowance from her dowry. She is too young to feel any right to parent you; I have long ago accepted the limitations to my own governance of such an obstinate, headstrong girl.”
“An heir to Longbourn,” Jane repeated. “And if she gives you two sons? What of Netherfield?”
“She knows you will have Netherfield, and I daresay there will be no second son to worry about. I know I am too old to really captivate her, whatever she pretends. After we have an heir, I shall allow her to… leave me to my own devices, as these fashionable types do.”
Jane raised a brow, daring a little of her sister’s impertinence. “She might give you two sons – she may have twins.”
Mr. Bennet frowned at her, then shook off his discomfiture. “Fanciful and placid; whatever happened to you at Weymouth, Lizzy? You only increase my suspicion that there is some handsome fellow occupying that part of your mind which would otherwise be rebelling against me.”
“I begin to imagine you rather wish that,” Jane said, stirring herself to exhibit some of the rancor her father expected.
“I daresay my lack of male followers will only bestir Miss Bingley to find some opportunity to parade me before every eligible gentleman of her acquaintance, so that I might soon quit Netherfield. You say it is what you expected to occur in Weymouth; ought I infer that you should prefer me to marry and make my own home elsewhere?”