Chapter Twenty-Eight
After a long, solitary ramble at dawn, during which Elizabeth chiefly pondered her conversation with Mr. Darcy and her own increasing concern for his happiness, Elizabeth walked to her mother’s cottage. She broke her fast with the ladies of the house, who were joined by Bessie Hill.
Bessie was retrieving a bottle of brandy from the hutch; she poured some into her tea and then Miss Bates’s as Elizabeth came into the room, and Elizabeth grinned at the housekeeper who had raised her. “Well! Good morning to you!”
Miss Bates beckoned for Elizabeth to sit with them and called for Martin to make her a plate. “Eat, eat, Lizzy dear! I know you must have been walking for at least an hour.”
“I have,” Elizabeth said, smiling at how well her mother understood her.
Jane gave her a cheeky grin. “And pray, what was the subject of your reverie – or whom?”
Bessie fairly cackled as she sipped her tea. “Oho! Is there a gentleman?”
“I find all the citizens of Highbury utterly fascinating,” Elizabeth quipped. “There has certainly been enough activity in the village to occupy my mind for a month of morning rambles.”
Jane flashed her bright smile at Bessie. “See how she deflects?”
Miss Bates gave a little bounce of excitement. “Lizzy! Is there a gentleman you admire?”
“I might ask you the same question, Mother.” Elizabeth laid her head on her mother’s shoulder and gave her a beatific smile.
Mrs. Bates laughed heartily, and Miss Bates swatted at both of her daughters as they giggled.
“Wicked girls, I know what you are about! But any opportunity to sing your praises – I am sure I could not resist – and how vastly amusing that you told me the truth, but not your father! What a fine joke! You are fortunate that he finds that sort of thing amusing, for many men would be quite cross. Ah, but he has always been an impudent devil – I believe he enjoyed vexing Miss Bingley as much as I did, which is the only reason we carried on together as we did.”
“The only reason,” Elizabeth agreed, sputtering with laughter.
“She really is a horrid creature,” Bessie huffed.
“I told Thomas he may as well have taken up with that simpering Miss Elton – but I am glad she is gone away – and I am surprised you have not sent Miss Bingley packing yet!”
“It has not yet been a fortnight,” Jane cried. “We are doing our best, Mother.”
“You are more than welcome to help us as often as you like,” Elizabeth said with a waggle of her brow.
Miss Bates blushed and gave a breathy laugh. “Oh, well! I cannot deny it was gratifying to discover that I might still have a certain effect on Thomas, for I am sure I have seen him admiring me when we are in company together, staring at me as he once did.”
“Like a brainless baboon,” Mrs. Bates grumbled.
Elizabeth grinned at her grandmother. “I am not entirely convinced that your disapprobation is quite serious, but I daresay it shall work to our advantage, for Papa has a rebellious spirit beneath so many years of indolence.”
“But I think you do not wish him to admire you merely to vex Miss Bingley,” Jane said to her mother.
“Certainly not; I have my vanity, even after all these years,” Miss Bates sniffed.
“And have you any lingering affection for him?”
“My goodness, Lizzy! Do you intend to work the same inquisition on your father?”
“Of course! But if you really no longer care for him, I suppose there is little point to it.”
“True,” Jane agreed, sensing the change in Elizabeth’s tactic. “We have no wish to mortify you, merely for the sake of being rid of Miss Bingley. Perhaps we have been swept up in the picture Lady Gresham painted of your history. If there is nothing in it, we will not press you.”
Bessie’s eyes flashed with comprehension, and she grinned at Martin as he came to refresh their tea.
“Yes, I have heard from my relations that you are quite popular in the village; I daresay you would not wish to alter your circumstances now. And Mr. Bennet is intent on having an heir, at his age! Surely that would never do – you have only just been reunited with both your girls.”
Miss Bates betrayed herself with a wistful sigh.
“I am not past the age of bearing a son – surely it has happened before – it is not impossible – and a boy of mine would not be so ill-favored – Miss Bingley has such a pinched look about her! Really, Thomas is such a great coxcomb in his choice of brides that it is a miracle my two girls have any good sense at all!”
Jane and Elizabeth giggled together again. “Oh, Jane, perhaps it is wrong of us to meddle at all. Papa must know best what should make him happy.”
“Oh, no, Lizzy, he certainly does not,” Miss Bates cried.
Bessie made a thoughtful sound. “His father beat him so soundly when forcing him to marry Lady Amelia that it likely knocked his brains about beyond recovery, the poor man.”
Miss Bates froze and let out a miserable squeak; this was evidently a revelation for her. “Oh.”
Mrs. Bates snorted with disdain. “Brains! Ha! How a man who professes such a great fondness for books can go through life without learning anything at all is shocking – it ought to be studied!”
Miss Bates began to fidget and fret. “Well, perhaps we are too severe on the poor man. If he has been as afflicted as I have been by wondering what might have been, if we had kept you girls together… perhaps that is enough. He certainly does not deserve that harpy plaguing his heart out for the next twenty years!”
“And shipping poor Lizzy off to be married,” Bessie mused. “Unless….”
Elizabeth waved her hands as if to stave off the insinuations. “I should rather go back to Weymouth and hurl myself into the sea than oblige Miss Bingley in any way.”
“Even if there is a handsome gentleman who is very eager to oblige you ,” Jane teased. Elizabeth could not but allow Jane this wickedness, for she knew her sister was in no little turmoil over her own attachment.
“I daresay Pemberley shall seem a fair prospect to you, Lizzy, when your other schemes come to naught,” Mrs. Bates said, mirth twinkling in her eyes. “You may think to unite your parents at last, but I shall duel that cad in the thoroughfare before I allow him to importune my daughter again!”
“Mamma,” Miss Bates cried. “I thought you once liked him. You used to banter so cheerfully with him when he called on us.”
“Well, that was before he broke your heart, was it not? You may forgive him all you choose, but I am sure I never shall.” Mrs. Bates sat up a little straighter and gave the twins a quick wink when Miss Bates was not looking.
Their new method of feigning indifference to provoke and persuade their mother proved a great success, for Elizabeth and Jane were treated to several fond recollections of their mother’s as she attempted to defend Mr. Bennet.
She spoke warmly, blushing a great deal, and it was clear that her feelings, if they had ever diminished, had certainly made a reappearance in her heart.
After their breakfast, Jane and Elizabeth walked to Hartfield for the last of their painting sessions, and they spoke with great excitement, for at last they had made some progress.
“I believe we must give Papa a little hope, for he was rejected when last he paid his addresses. At least now we might pass along some little encouragement.”
“I was amazed at our mother giving in so easily,” Jane said. “And Grandmother! She is the cleverest of us, to be sure. I have known them all my life, and I never knew it could be so easy to work such mischief on them.”
“Of course not, you perfect angel,” Elizabeth teased her. They walked arm in arm through the garden when they reached Hartfield and strolled in through the doors that led to their favorite parlor, eager to regale Emma with their recent triumph.
Charlotte and Mr. Bingley were already sitting with Emma, and Elizabeth was disappointed that Mr. Darcy had not joined them. She could only hope that his absence meant he was acting on her advice, and attempting to make amends with his relations.
Elizabeth’s distraction was interrupted by a shrill yipping, and Emma fairly bounced over to her with a small dog in her arms. “Lizzy, Jane, look!”
Mr. Bingley trailed behind Emma, wearing a wide grin of smug satisfaction. “I claimed the last of Doctor Perry’s puppies; what do you think?”
“Is she not the sweetest little thing?” Emma cooed over the animal, kissing it atop the head as she presented it to her friends. “And since it is your turn to paint me, I must pose with the little dear in my lap.”
Elizabeth and Jane praised the animal to Emma’s satisfaction, and again Elizabeth wished Mr. Darcy was there, if only to see his friend finally making a dent in Emma’s heart. “I have named her Miss Chief, in honor of our scheming,” Mr. Bingley declared proudly.
“Even Papa thinks she is a darling, and he has never allowed me a pet before,” Emma said.
“You are soon to be a married woman,” Charlotte told her. “It is high time you start getting your own way.”
Elizabeth took a turn holding the creature and stroking her soft fur before handing her back to Emma. “Will you bring her to Box Hill with us on Friday?”
“Of course! We are sure to be gone much of the day, and it would be cruel to part with her. I am utterly in love already!” Emma gave her new pet a few more affectionate kisses before arranging herself in a pose to be painted.
Elizabeth and her sister exchanged a look of glee between them as she settled themselves at the easels Charlotte had set up for them.
She, too, was to be painted at last, and in a playful mockery of Emma’s pose, Charlotte took a small stuffed peacock off a shelf at the back of the room and kept her face heroically serious as she sat with it in her lap.
As they painted, Mr. Bingley lamented that his sister had entirely taken over the Box Hill scheme. “I suppose I cannot begrudge her inclination to show off a little, but it is just what I wished to do.”