Chapter Eighteen #2
“Hertfordshire? Oh! Well, I am pleased to meet you, Miss Lucas. Jane, dearest, did not Mr. Bingley mention Hertfordshire? Are you one of his party, Miss Lucas? You cannot be his sister.”
“I am a neighbor of his sister’s intended, and a friend of that gentleman’s daughter.”
“Aunt, Miss Lucas has also brought a friend to visit.”
Jane gestured to her sister, and at last Elizabeth stepped into the room. Miss Bates’s teacup slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor, and Martin hastened to attend to the mess, grinning all the while at this excuse to remain. Bessie smirked as she began to assist the butler.
Their mother stood and smoothed out her skirts, her eyes locked on Elizabeth.
Her lip quivered and her eyes glistened, as after a moment she silently extended her arms and stepped toward Elizabeth, who fairly dove into Miss Bates’s embrace.
Jane saw Elizabeth whisper something, and she understood the word perfectly. Mother .
Miss Bates reluctantly withdrew from the embrace, still clinging to Elizabeth’s arms, and tears now streaked her face. “You know?” She looked over at Jane, and then at the parcels that had been stacked on every available surface. “Lady Gresham.”
Bessie leaned in Martin's direction and coughed, but it sounded remarkably like she had said ‘ Mrs. Gardiner. ’ Martin coughed, too; it had certainly not been a guffaw.
Jane approached her mother and took her by one hand, leaning into her sister. “Please do not be angry with her for contriving our meeting. If she had not, I believe the present circumstances would have brought us together anyhow.”
Miss Bates distractedly stroked Elizabeth’s cheek, then tugged at a wisp of her dark hair. “What is this, then? You darkened your hair? Miss Lucas, was it? Miss Lucas, do tell my dearest girl what a treat it is to have such beautiful, naturally golden tresses!”
“I might have cut them off of her to have for myself,” Charlotte agreed, giving her old friend a wicked look.
“It was my doing,” Bessie said. “She grew to look so like her mother, I daresay Mr. Bennet could not bear it.”
“I do look very like her,” Elizabeth said, giving her mother a gaze of adoration. “I stole a picture of her that my father always kept in his desk drawer; he was very distressed by the loss of it.”
“Was he indeed?” Miss Bates smiled wickedly for a moment and then embraced both her daughters at once. “Oh, my girls together again! I could faint away!”
“Do refrain from that, my child, if you possibly can,” Mrs. Bates drawled, looking not the least bit surprised by the events unfolding. “I expect our girls have quite the story to tell.”
“So they do,” Bessie agreed. “I had an inkling you’d be hearing it ere long.”
“I want to hear everything,” Miss Bates cried. “You must begin at the beginning – but perhaps, Martin, you might remove the ottoman and clean the spill from it elsewhere?”
Martin nodded and left the room, though not without looking back at Bessie, who was mouthing something conspiratorial at him.
At that moment, Jane was too full of joy to care.
She watched her mother clear a space for them all to sit, which she accomplished without ever letting go of Elizabeth’s hand.
“Sit with me, my dear. Oh, tell everything, Elizabeth! You met in Weymouth, no doubt. Oh, but what are you doing here? Does Mr. Bennet know you are here? Good Lord, is he among Mr. Bingley’s party?”
Elizabeth smiled as she pressed Miss Bates’s hand in hers. “I must begin, Mother, by telling you how very much I have enjoyed coming to know you this past week.”
Mrs. Bates gave a great snort of amusement.
Miss Bates was duly astonished, and together Jane and Elizabeth confessed to having exchanged places when they departed Lady Gresham’s home.
Elizabeth explained how her uncle’s widow had contrived a chance encounter to become acquainted with her, and continued the friendship for many years, culminating in the invitation to visit Lady Gresham at the same time as Jane, so near to their twenty-first year.
Jane described her feelings at the discovery and Elizabeth did likewise, and then they detailed their discoveries at the dower house.
Miss Bates wept with shame as she admitted to her dalliance with Mr. Bennet, but Jane and Elizabeth assured her with abundant affection that her secret was perfectly safe, and they loved her better for knowing the truth.
They all shed tears together as Miss Bates spoke wistfully of her whirlwind courtship with young Captain Bennet, which had been brought to an untimely conclusion by the death of his brother and the mercenary machinations of his father.
Mrs. Bates had a few choice words for Mr. Bennet, and even Bessie tutted that he had been a fool then, and still was now.
Then came the unpleasant business of informing their mother of Mr. Bennet’s betrothal, and his unfortunate choice of bride. Charlotte had been silent and discreet during their bouts of high emotion, but she was ready and eager to echo the sisters’ slander of Miss Bingley.
Miss Bates bore these revelations with a steely calm; Jane was prodigiously proud of her mother’s poise, for it could not have been easy. Of course, her grandmother had a few more facetious quips about Mr. Bennet’s penchant for hostile heiresses, but Miss Bates was merely contemplative.
At last, she asked, “Elizabeth, was Lady Amelia kind to you?”
“She was not explicitly cruel,” Elizabeth replied with equal ponderance. Jane knew it was a difficult recollection for her sister, and clasped her hand. “She was not especially interested in me, but she did not set out to disoblige me unnecessarily.”
“And Miss Bingley?”
This query was directed at Jane. “She is not so indifferent. She has already made it known that she will take a more active interest in asserting herself as mistress of Netherfield, by whatever means at her disposal.”
“Oh dear. Poor Thomas,” Miss Bates tutted.
“And poor Elizabeth – but you will always have a place here, my dear. Apparently you are already aware of how well we get on here at the cottage, you sly thing! Perhaps… perhaps you might plan to stay, anyhow – you are nearly of age – and you know the neighbors, too – it is you who Miss Woodhouse is so fond of! Ha! I ought to have known aught was afoot! But you cannot expect me to part with you so soon.”
“I would never ask it of you,” Elizabeth said. “But do not fret for me; I have no intention of allowing Papa to marry that vain and frivolous viper!”
“Oho! And so you have brought reinforcements for your Battle of the Betrothed.” Mrs. Bates laughed heartily and gave Charlotte a little nudge.
“We have every intention of defeating her, ma’am,” Charlotte said with mock solemnity.
Elizabeth studied their mother. “But I hope you are not opposed to meeting with Papa again, Mother. I recall he was greatly distressed after our visit here when I was a girl.”
“You remember that, do you?” Miss Bates smiled tearfully. “I wanted to take you in my arms and refuse to let go! That was the day I sent Jane away with the Campbells – it was the only way I could give you as good a life as your father has given Elizabeth. I do not know if it has been enough….”
“Of course,” Jane said at once, before she could consider whether she meant it. “But Father is not married yet. There is still a chance we might all be a family together.”
Miss Bates drew back with surprise and then gazed warily at the heaps of new purchases the sisters had brought to the cottage. “Oh… oh, I see.”
“You might at least remind him of what he might have had,” Elizabeth said with a wink. “Come, now, I know you are dying to see all our new finery, and I have bought you some presents.”
The sisters distracted their mother for another hour with a parade of fashions; Jane displayed her new gowns and they all exclaimed over the frock that was ready for Miss Bates to wear to dinner at Milton Hall that evening.
For another hour they amused themselves in examining every purchase, and it warmed Jane’s heart to see so many people dear to her all radiant with joy.
The hour soon arrived when Elizabeth and Charlotte could tarry no longer before returning to Milton Hall to dress for dinner.
Martin returned just as the sisters were packing up their things, and Elizabeth spun whimsically about to plop a bonnet onto his head.
With perfect dignity, Martin asked the young ladies how they intended to convey their spoils to the manor, and Elizabeth only blinked stupidly.
“You never thought of that, did you,” Bessie chided her. She nudged Martin to examine his reflection in a mirror on the wall before returning the bonnet to Elizabeth. “I can ask for my cousin’s cart if you like, Lizzy.”
“Lizzy,” Miss Bates sighed, smiling at the endearment. “I suppose you shall be very grand when I see you next! The heiress of Netherfield, with twice Jane’s fortune! And your father will be very smug about it, I suppose!”
Jane laid a hand on her mother’s arm. “But I have travelled England with the Campbells, and received an excellent education, you have given me that; Mr. Bennet has kept Lizzy always at home until Weymouth.”
Elizabeth did not look much dismayed by this, and shrugged her shoulders. “I am a sheltered heiress – no wonder I should like Emma so well.”
“She will be all astonishment to discover there are two of you!” Mrs. Bates chuckled softly and shook her head at their antics. “You are sure to rouse quite the stir; Highbury has not had so much excitement since the militia quartered here!”
“We intend to make a very gratifying spectacle,” Elizabeth declared. “But to do so, Charlotte and I must take our leave.”
Jane and Miss Bates followed them to the door, and Bessie led Martin away to retrieve a cart to transport Elizabeth and Charlotte’s purchases to Milton Hall.
As they watched Elizabeth depart, Miss Bates wrapped her arm around Jane.
“On, my poor, dear girl. We were fools to keep you apart. You seem to belong together.”
Jane rested her head against her mother’s and let out a hum of contentment. “We do, Mother. We all belong together.”