Chapter Fourteen
Elizabeth resolved to spend her days at the cottage with her mother and grandmother, feeling bittersweet that her time with them would be limited due to the unforeseen disaster Jane faced in Hertfordshire.
Emma became a daily caller there after the events of Mr. Weston’s party brought the two young ladies unexpectedly closer.
Elizabeth was pleased to have found a friend in her, even though Emma acknowledged her visits to the cottage served also as a means of avoiding Mr. Bingley.
Three days passed without Elizabeth encountering Mr. Darcy on her daily walks.
She knew it was only a matter of time before she must face him again, after their shared confidences and the kiss that she could never manage to put entirely from her mind.
Elizabeth longed for it and dreaded it, and bristled at how thoughts of Mr. Darcy distracted her from enjoying the novelty of her mother’s company.
She was to have only a week of such bliss before Jane and the others were due to arrive from Hertfordshire.
Jane expressed a wish that the sisters might switch places as soon as possible and relieve themselves of the burden of their charade, and Elizabeth had to admit she saw the wisdom in doing so.
Still, she was feeling rather sullen about parting from her mother and grandmother on her final day at the cottage.
Miss Bates was silly and fussy, but she never had an ill word for anybody, and though she loved gossip, she always preferred to see the best in her friends in Highbury.
Her steady stream of chatter was not always as clever as the banter that Mrs. Bates displayed only at home, but Miss Bates had a great deal of cheerful nothing to say, and Elizabeth began to find her mother’s style of expression affectionate and endearing.
It was a stark contrast to the afternoons she spent in easy silence, reading with her father, but it swiftly began to feel like just as much of a balm to her spirits.
Emma’s daily visits with the charming Miss Taylor were a source of great amusement. The ladies all chatted happily until Mr. Elton inevitably called with his sister, and then they would all play at cards while Mrs. Bates observed in shrewd silence.
When the Eltons were present, they took turns plying Emma with compliments and ingratiating remarks; Miss Elton sang her brother’s praises, and the vicar himself paid such marked attentions to Emma – a woman engaged, for Heaven’s sake!
– that it was a source of vast amusement to Elizabeth that her new friend remained entirely oblivious to the Eltons’ efforts.
In their time alone, free of the Eltons’ relentless fawning, the two new friends declared they could happily pass every day of the summer in just such easy company.
But on Friday, hours before Jane and the party from Hertfordshire were due to arrive, the cottage received a caller with whom Elizabeth was far from eager to meet.
Mr. Weston was as ebullient as ever when he presented, at long last, his son Frank Churchill.
Emma and Miss Taylor were at the cottage when the gentlemen paid their unexpected visit, and they echoed Miss Bates’s praise of the young man.
Their verbosity was a relief to Elizabeth, who knew not how to act or what to say.
She decided it best to indulge in all the reserve her awkwardness aroused; it was just how Jane might act.
Mr. Churchill gave a stellar performance in appearing entirely uninterested in his lady; nobody would ever have imagined he had only days prior written Jane Fairfax a letter full of poetry and adulation.
Beyond a few lingering gazes throughout the visit, he was chiefly focused on recommending himself to Emma, who promptly forgot all about her betrothal in her glee at finally meeting the man who had long held a fascination for her.
Elizabeth was indignant at how easily Mr. Churchill indulged Emma’s interest – were she really Jane, it would have been mortifying and painful to behold!
Matters deteriorated further when Mr. Bingley arrived at the cottage.
The small parlor was crowded indeed, and though Elizabeth knew she ought to be thankful Mr. Darcy had not come along with his friend, she was surprisingly wounded by his absence.
Elizabeth clung to her resolve to say as little as possible, and in truth she was content to sit in the corner with her grandmother, observing and whispering.
“Poor Mr. Bingley! How desperate he is for Emma’s attention; if she asks Mr. Churchill another question about his stay in Highbury, her intended may suffer an apoplexy. ”
Mrs. Bates smiled wryly. “One might suppose she knows just what she is about.”
Elizabeth thought it rather a pity that Mr. Bingley should seem more eager than Emma to make the best of their situation.
He had paid some attention to Elizabeth, when first they met, but he was no more than cordial when he greeted her today.
His eyes were all for Emma, which was just as it ought to be.
But Emma thought only of Mr. Churchill, and spoke to him with such animation that Miss Bates was soon forced to direct all her praise of that young man to Mr. Weston.
After a quarter hour, Mr. Bingley recalled his purpose in visiting, and managed to be of some interest to his betrothed as he announced that he was expecting his sisters at Milton Hall within the hour.
Elizabeth had not known how to tell her mother that Mr. Bennet was to come amongst them – to do so would surely have disrupted their domestic felicity this last week.
She even wondered if it might be best that her parents’ reunion be a surprise to them, one that they could not avoid if forewarned.
She sucked in a breath, fearful that Mr. Bingley would reveal enough to send Miss Bates into a fainting spell.
“I hope you will all join us for dinner tomorrow at Milton Hall,” Mr. Bingley told them.
He gave a wary smile before extending the invitation to Mr. Churchill and his father.
“My sisters plan to host a little house party – Mrs. Hurst has brought her husband, of course, and Caroline has brought her intended, a gentleman of property from Hertfordshire, his ward Miss Eliza, and one or two other friends. What a merry party we shall all be!”
Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief that Mr. Bingley had not spoken the name Bennet; even so, the mention of Hertfordshire seemed to affect Miss Bates somewhat. She gave an uncharacteristic frown and fanned herself, but made no effort to inquire further, which was most unlike her.
When Emma at last took an interest in what Mr. Bingley had to say, Mr. Churchill smirked at Elizabeth as he drew her aside. “I was mad with impatience to see you again, after leaving Weymouth so abruptly, my darling,” he whispered, affecting a neutral expression.
Elizabeth forced a smile. “Will you be able to stay long?”
“Miss Woodhouse insists that I must, which may convince my aunt to spare me,” he said with a low chuckle.
Elizabeth made no endeavor to conceal a scowl. “Miss Woodhouse is lately betrothed to Mr. Bingley – she should not have been so forward with you.”
Mr. Churchill grinned. “I am dying to know how that came about. I understand he has only just arrived in the neighborhood. If there is intrigue afoot, you must tell me at once, my angel.”
“Perhaps you ought to ask Mr. Bingley about it,” Elizabeth hissed, her temper rising. “It certainly appears he is quite taken with his future bride, and they might do well together if left to their own devices.”
“Perhaps not,” Mr. Churchill quipped, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I have no wish to come between friends, but then I am sure you have said there is little affection between you. Would it not suit our need for secrecy, if I continued to captivate her?”
Elizabeth’s mouth hung agape for a moment, until Mr. Churchill made a subtle gesture for her to smile.
She schooled her countenance, but she would not entirely indulge the man beside her.
“Have you any particular reason to believe your aunt will hear such a detailed account of all your dealings while you are in Highbury?”
Mr. Churchill furrowed his brow for a moment and then raised a hand to his heart. “You have never been cross with me; I quite despair of it. I thought we agreed on our methods of discretion.”
Elizabeth winced. Had Jane really consented to such unnecessary charades?
She was not close with Emma, but surely Jane would not work such mischief upon her.
And how could the gentlemen who had written a letter of such devotion now think to publicly flirt with another lady – an engaged lady at that – for the sake of preserving a secret that seemed in little danger of exposure?
Elizabeth was required to give no response, for yet another visitor was admitted to the poky little parlor of the Bates cottage.
Martin announced Mr. Knightley, giving Elizabeth the same smile he had shown her on Monday, when she returned from her daily rambles in Mr. Knightley’s carriage after he refused to allow her to walk home in the rain.
Knowing the butler to be a treasured member of the household, Elizabeth only smiled wryly at Martin and gave a subtle shake of her head.
Mr. Knightley was pleasant, but far too like her father for her to form any designs upon the man – and his generosity seemed more a principle of his own rather than a particular distinction.
Mr. Knightley bore a large basket in his hands, and looked mortified to be carrying it into such a crowded room.
He recovered himself and greeted them all with ease – all but Emma and Mr. Bingley, whose eyes he could scarcely meet.
He was introduced to Mr. Churchill and they each said everything that was civil and expected, and then Mr. Knightley addressed himself to Miss Bates.