Chapter Eighteen
The next morning, Jane and her sister met at the dressmaker’s to examine all the dresses Mrs. Bates had ordered. After the loquacious Mrs. Bartlett recovered from her shock and fussed over the identical pair, Jane had her final fittings, and she marveled at Elizabeth’s taste in the new gowns.
Jane had never been bold enough to express her own opinions; when she shopped for new frocks with Miss Bates, she always allowed her mother to make the decisions, and she had even done the same with Miss Dixon and her mother.
But during the week she spent in Hertfordshire, Jane had admired Elizabeth’s wardrobe so covetously that she had been loath to part with her many beautiful gowns when they switched back to being themselves.
In many ways, spending a week as Elizabeth had taught Jane to know herself better.
The sisters also examined the two dresses their mother had commissioned.
One, a golden gauzy silk, was not terribly over-trimmed, and promised to flatter Miss Bates supremely at dinner that evening.
For the other gown, the sisters easily convinced the seamstress to make a few flattering alterations that would allow their mother to feel pleased with the trimmings but still appear to advantage.
Elizabeth had a generous allowance from her father; she tipped the good lady generously, and won a devoted ally when she also purchased a few hats and slippers for herself, her sister, Charlotte, and Miss Bates.
Mrs. Bartlett suddenly recalled that there was some extra fabric from one of Jane’s gowns that could be paired with some new lilac silk that had arrived this morning, and a third exquisite gown for Miss Bates was commissioned at a generous discount.
“I daresay that will make the most fetching of your aunt’s three frocks; you have as good an eye as Miss Fairfax, Miss Bennet. Your aunt will be in better looks than I’ve ever seen her, and she is still a striking woman, I cannot begrudge her that! Perhaps with Mr. Weston taking Randalls….”
Elizabeth held up a hand and smiled at the kindly woman.
“Your imagination is very rapid, from new frocks to romance in an instant! No, ma’am, we only believe that with so many newcomers to the area, we may be attending a great many parties – and I understand it has been far too long since my aunt allowed herself such an indulgence. ”
“Aye and it is a great pity, for she is in here every week browsing. But then, your aunt always says she is looking out presents for you , Miss Fairfax.”
Jane inhaled sharply at this proof of her mother’s love. “Then it is certainly her turn to be spoilt.”
The sisters collected their purchases, and Mrs. Bartlett promised to have the two other gowns ready for Miss Bates by Tuesday; she would have them delivered by one of her boys.
Jane and Elizabeth left the shop with their arms full and walked down the high street, for Charlotte had accompanied Elizabeth to the village and gone directly to the bookshop.
They collected their friend, who had purchased only one volume after her hour of browsing; her eyes widened at the extravagant number of parcels Jane and Elizabeth had acquired in their own venture.
“Good Lord, Lizzy, such spending is quite unlike you! I am sure you have saved so much of your pin money over the years that you might purchase your own barouche!”
“I have no need of a barouche,” Elizabeth said with a grin. “What I require at present is a fashionable and confident mother, and I can certainly afford that.”
Jane sucked in a sharp breath. She was by no means a pauper, for she had ten thousand pounds from her uncle, but she never touched the sum.
It had been strange indeed, over the last week, to be so reminded of the difference in her sister’s circumstances.
A sense of worry tugged at her, for why would her mother have refused such a wealthy man as Mr. Bennet? Did this mean she could not love him?
Jane shook herself from this reverie, trying to smile at Charlotte and Elizabth’s banter. “I daresay you do have need of a small wagon at the very least – your arms shall ache by the time we reach the cottage!”
“Oh, hush! You might take this hatbox and that small parcel – their contents are my gift to you.”
“Lizzy, thank you! You are too good to me – you have already given me the gift of so much intrigue to entertain me. I shall not be dull here, as I would have been at home, impatiently waiting for letters of your exploits.” Charlotte turned to Jane and grinned at her.
“And you, too, Jane. It was your idea that I should come, and I am so looking forward to whatever the pair of you get up to. And I am honored that I shall meet your moth- ahem, your aunt .”
Elizabeth beamed at them. “She is wonderful, Charlotte! In another life, she and Lady Lucas would have been dearest friends.”
“And perhaps they shall be,” Charlotte said with a wink.
They had begun walking back toward the cottage at the end of the village, but Jane slowed her pace and obliged her companions to do the same.
“When I had your purse, Lizzy, I tipped the maid Alice quite handsomely in exchange for her aid in sneaking out of the manor. I forgot to mention it, but I thought you ought to be aware that she may be helpful to you in ways you may hesitate to ask.”
“I have told her already,” Charlotte said, grinning and waggling her eyebrows. “As I said, I have come along for the thrill of all this scheming. I have made a great contribution already, as it happens. We have arranged for dinner to be stalled by three quarters of an hour.”
“Mr. Bingley is too kind to dismiss any of the kitchen staff for such an inconvenience, for it will be more time for him to boast of his manor and his sisters to all the guests. Miss Bingley, however, will be quite put out, and I daresay she will not show herself to advantage.”
“How clever,” Jane said. “I had thought to suggest something of that kind. We will certainly have to prepare ourselves for causing a great stir among the locals – you recall the fascination we aroused in Weymouth.”
“I can imagine,” Charlotte mused appreciatively. “And that will likely vex Miss Bingley, too. She will not be the queen of the evening with an identical pair of fair maidens to amaze twenty people.”
Jane hardened her visage. “And she will be greatly chagrined if you tamper with the seating arrangement for supper. After she attempted to play hostess at Netherfield and taunt me about it, I daresay she deserves repayment in kind.” She shuffled the parcels in her arms in order to retrieve a small, folded piece of paper she brought with her.
“Here, Lizzy. At Netherfield, Bessie composed a list of the foods Miss Bingley and the Hursts dislike. Do with that what you will.”
Elizabeth also shifted her parcels so that she could accept the list, looking eager to employ such a weapon. “Why Jane, you devious, delightful creature! Was I utterly mistaken in Weymouth, concluding that you are the sweetest angel who ever lived?”
“No indeed,” Jane said boldly, a smile tugging at her lips. “But I am sweet to those who are deserving; a week with Miss Bingley has turned me quite sour to her.”
They approached the cottage and Martin appeared in the window. He grinned broadly and waved at them, then hurried out of the house to assist them with bearing their many purchases.
The jolly, lanky old butler raised his brows with a jovial expression. “Miss Jane, what is all this? Your birthday is not for another four weeks – am I to bake a cake early?”
Elizabeth laughed, drawing the butler’s notice and subsequent astonishment. “Do you really bake cakes, Martin?”
The man who had served Jane’s grandmother for as long as she could recall suddenly had tears in his eyes, and he nearly dropped his arm full of feminine fripperies. “Oh – oh indeed! And very wonderful, ah, wonderful cakes they are. I believe I should bake one – you are very, very welcome.”
Jane smiled warmly at the man. He was of an age with her father, and had been kind to her since she was a girl. It was certain that he had always known of her sister, for he gazed at Elizabeth just as Bessie had looked at her when she had heard the truth.
“Dear Martin, I think a cake would be excellent after church tomorrow. Perhaps a pie – perhaps you might visit your cousins at Abbey Mill Farm and bring back some of their famous apples. You may be quite at leisure this afternoon, for as you might imagine, we wish to speak privately with my aunt and grandmother.”
“Very good, Miss Jane – oh! How very, very good it is – but are you sure I shall not be wanted all afternoon? I could bring tea before I go.”
Elizabeth laughed again. “Martin, you know perfectly well that Grandmother will not be able to resist telling you quite a tale at the earliest opportunity.”
Martin looked between the sisters with inexpressible shock, then shook his head with indulgent affection and began to bring in their parcels. Miss Bates was already calling out from within the house, and Jane bid her sister and their friend wait for her to go in first.
Jane went down the corridor to the parlor and smiled as her mother exclaimed over the multitude of purchases Martin carried into the room.
He piled them high on a small card table in the corner, making no secret of listening as Jane greeted her mother.
Mrs. Bates whispered something to him with a wry smile.
Bessie was there, too, sitting beside Miss Bates on the sofa and taking tea with her. She smiled with a devious gleam in her eye, but Jane remained tranquil as Miss Bates introduced her old friend.
“Aunt, I have brought a friend for you to meet, too.” Jane turned and motioned into the corridor, and Charlotte stepped into the room. “This is Miss Charlotte Lucas, of Lucas Lodge in Hertfordshire.”