Chapter Three
A gentle tap sounded at Elizabeth's door .
“Come in, Jane!”
The eldest Miss Bennet entered and softly closed the door behind her. “I thought that you would not yet be asleep, Lizzy. How is it you always know that it is I?”
Elizabeth laid aside the letter from Aunt Gardiner that she had been studying, and smiled. “Papa does not enter here, Mama is currently avoiding me to demonstrate the depths of her disappointment, Mary went to bed an hour ago, and I can hear Kitty and Lydia giggling through two walls.”
“I might have been Hill,” suggested her sister, settling herself comfortably on the end of the bed and resting her chin on her hand .
“So you might, except Hill has a heavier tread and a firmer knock. If we are to list everyone within the house as possibilities, you might also have been Mr. Collins, I suppose, but do let us dismiss that idea immediately .”
Shocked laughter came then. “Elizabeth! It does not bear thinking about.”
Visibly shuddering, Lizzy agreed. “Quite so; revolting thought. Although given how reluctant he was to accept my refusal of his suit yesterday, I would not put it past him to attempt to slip a note under my door, listing all the reasons why I should find our cousin an irresistible prospect. ”
“I hope he would do nothing so improper — he is a clergyman.”
“His profession does not raise him above improper conceit, it seems. I am thankful that Charlotte invited him to dine — at least it saved us all the trial of his wounded pride at dinner this evening. I could better pity him if I thought I had hurt his heart, but I know I have not.”
Jane was unable to contest this, and instead sighed softly and held up the letter she had come to discuss with her sister .
“I have re-read this a dozen times since it arrived this morning.” There was nothing other than a slight frown to indicate any agitation of spirits. Elizabeth guessed, however, that the note disquieted her sister.
“Miss Bingley would be gratified that you set so much store by her words, my dear. I remain firm in my belief that Mr. Bingley loves you, Jane — just as I see that you love him — and he will be back. I am sorry, though, that you are so sorrowful. Mr. Bingley might have called to take his leave.” Elizabeth's tone turned disapproving. “As might his prim and proper friend, Mr. Darcy, if it comes to that — he is proud of his superior breeding but neglects to bid farewell properly in a neighbourhood he has been in for nearly three months.”
Jane looked a little more cheerful at that thought. “Perhaps then you are right and neither gentleman means to be away for more than a few days. Surely if they were quitting the county altogether they would have called.”
“Well done, Jane! You begin to see that Miss Bingley's letter is steeped in deceit. If Caroline Bingley is willing to mislead you regarding her brother's remaining in London, then she is also capable of falsehood in her implication that he will marry Miss Darcy. ”
“But she has been a friend to me!” exclaimed her sister, unable to judge so harshly as Lizzy. “She had no need to invite me to dine with Mrs. Hurst and herself, nor was she obliged to take care of me so well when I was ill in her house. What friend would be capable of this willful deceit?”
“What friend, indeed? Your error is in judging her by your own sweetness.”
As ever when she was praised, Jane shook her head quickly. “You are too fond of me, Lizzy. You see me as perfect, which you must know I am not.”
“We will leave that be. You will not convince me that you are, in fact, a secretly depraved individual deserving of scorn. Let us turn instead to Miss Bingley's character and what we know of her. I might add, I suppose, that I am quite willing to wash my hands of those at Netherfield — yes, even your Mr. Bingley, given that I know very well he has made you weep.”
Again Miss Bennet shook her head. “Come, Lizzy, I will brush your hair for you — it will give me something to soothe me. Do not be angry at him — I am sure that Mr. Bingley is too good a gentleman to cause any young lady distress. It is only…it is only that I am rather silly, I fear, and…”
Elizabeth twisted her head to look up at her sister. “Oh Jane, you feel it keenly, do you not?”
In the safety of her younger sister's bedroom, Jane could haltingly speak of her feelings. “It matters not. There is not a thing I can do about it — I must wait and hope that I was not wrong, because I did believe that he…that he cared for me.”
“It makes me unbearably cross,” exclaimed Lizzy without hesitation. “Only the day before yesterday, he danced with you twice and had his eyes constantly on you in front of the whole neighbourhood. What gentleman does such a thing and then quits his house, leaving his dreadful sister — no, do not censure me; his dreadful sister — to write a letter to the young lady to whom he has paid so much attention? ”
“I cannot reproach him. He has promised me nothing, and neither did he even hint a word to Papa about his intentions.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to retort and was silent. Her first thought, when acknowledging the justice of this, was that Mr. Bingley's behaviour was that of a knave — to court Jane in all but name and then leave unencumbered by any consequence. A quick glance up made Lizzy keep this opinion to herself.
“Tell me what you make of Miss Bingley's character,” said Jane at length, laying aside the brush and precisely dividing her sister's hair to plait it. “I do value your judgement. My own feels clouded at present — no doubt because I have been upset.”
“It should not take much proof to persuade you that she thinks herself above us.”
“I know that you think so, but then why should she seek out my acquaintance?”
“I have not questioned her taste, dearest.”
“Lizzy,” Jane laid a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder and smiled when it was swiftly kissed, “you are my staunchest friend.”
“I would remind you that at Netherfield, Miss Bingley openly boasted about her circles, in which ridiculous amounts of money may be staked at play and lost without a single pang. They are so very rich,” she intoned, with an uncanny impersonation of Caroline Bingley's expression and voice, “that they need not consider paltry amounts that would feed one of Papa's tenants for a year.”
“I had forgotten it! Thirty-six pounds and none of them there were so worried as I that I should have it. It is still in my green reticule.”
They heard a noise at the door and Lydia came in without asking if she was welcome .
“Do come in,” murmured Elizabeth dryly.
The sarcasm went unheeded. “I saw that your candle was lit and thought I should come in for a coze. Your bed is much nicer than mine, after all; move over a little, Jane. Kitty has gone to sleep, but I am wide awake. Was it not a droll day? I had thought that nothing amusing should happen for an age after the ball, but Mr. Collins has entertained us well enough, has he not? I should not wonder if he leaves first thing in the morning. At least his dull lectures will go too. Is Mama still cross with you?”
“Do you really think our mother would cease to be in hysterics so swiftly, Lydia?”
“Mama is disappointed,” protested Jane, tying a ribbon at the end of the long plait she had made.
“Well,” offered Lydia, lying down and making herself quite comfortable by rearranging the coverlet about her, “I daresay she will forget all about it when Jane becomes engaged to Mr. Bingley. Denny said that all the officers thought it quite a done thing.” Lizzy looked quickly to Jane at this and saw her cheeks tinge with pink. Lydia babbled on, unaware. “Will you want us all as your bridesmaids, Jane?”
“Lydia,” said Elizabeth sternly, “you speak so thoughtlessly! ”
“I do not see why I should mind my tongue with my own sisters, Lizzy,” argued her irrepressible sister. “After all, it is not as though I am saying anything unkind, is it? I am very pleased for Jane; for all that Mr. Bingley is not an officer, he is rich enough and handsome enough. La! It does seem strange to think that you will be Jane Bingley and not Jane Bennet, however.”
“Elizabeth is right,” said Jane, tightly. “You ought not speak so. Mr. Bingley is in no way obliged to offer for me. In fact, he has gone away, so that may well be an end to our acquaintance with the Bingleys altogether.”
“Gone away? Where?”
“London.”
“London! I wish I might go to London!” Lydia considered for a fleeting moment, “I am sure he will return soon — you have only to wait.” She wrinkled her nose. “ I should not like to wait for a gentleman but you are more patient than I am. I should go to London after him and make him see me. Any man who was as violently in love with me as he ought to be would declare himself instantly and be very sorry that he had gone away.”
“You had much better go to bed. I think you are tired and your tongue is running away with you. Lizzy, do you not think that she must be weary?”
Elizabeth considered. “Lydia's tongue always runs away with her, Jane, regardless of how much repose she has had. I do wonder, however, if she may be in the right. It is grossly unfair that a gentleman may enter a neighbourhood and leave it as he pleases, but a lady, who has more to lose, must sit at home and desperately hope that he will come back. ”
Sitting upright, Jane frowned. “I hope you do not suggest that I should be so indelicate as to chase Mr. Bingley to London!”
Lizzy rose from her bed and paced back and forth, deep in thought. Lydia watched her with interest and Jane toyed with the brush beside her .
“I do not think that you should chase Mr. Bingley,” she said at length.
“Forgive me, Lizzy. I know you cannot have meant that…I…”
“I do, however, think that London would be an excellent place for you to go. Think upon it, Jane. You have thirty-six pounds!”
“Thirty-six pounds!” exclaimed Lydia, sitting bolt upright. “Where on earth from?”
“She won it at Netherfield one evening. She could hardly be expected to refuse to play — it was offered as entertainment. They were playing high, but Jane won. It was loo, I think.”
“Of course Jane won; she always does,” complained Lydia loudly. “It is a good thing she will never take our pennies when we stake them.”
“Elizabeth,” cried a bewildered Jane, “what can you be thinking? Lydia, you might lower your voice; Mary will be sleeping in the next room and you know how early she likes to rise.”
“Even ten pounds would make a good stake in a card game,” answered Lizzy. “You might come away with forty or fifty pounds in an evening depending on the play.”
“Fifty pounds! If you staked a sum such as that and won, you could buy some very fine presents. Would not that cheer you up, Jane?” offered Lydia, ever selfishly minded. “You know how you like to give presents. ”
“This is a strange discussion. I shall go directly to bed and hear no more nonsense. ”
“You must acknowledge that you always win, Jane.”
Miss Bennet hesitated. “It is no great skill on my part. You know that I have a head for numbers. I have explained to you before that it is hardly any difficulty to count cards as they are dealt. From there it is child's play to determine what is left to draw so long as one is not distracted. Also,” she added, “I have lost when we play at lottery tickets — Kitty beat us all soundly the last time we played. She took all of the fish.”
“But lottery tickets is all down to chance,” countered Elizabeth. “You would not need to sit at a table where there is no skill involved, would you? Vingt-et-un and such like are, as you say, child's play for you.”
“ Why would you have me go to London, Lizzy? ”
“The change would do you good. At the very least it would bring me pleasure to see you well distracted, and I have a fancy to see you in a fine gown, purchased from your winnings. It would be a far better use of your time to travel back with our aunt and uncle,” here she paused to pick up her own letter and wave it, “when they come for Christmas. If Mr. Bingley returns as we hope then you need not go but if he does not…would you not like to look forward to…to something else to occupy your thoughts?”
“To set forth on an adventure!” interjected Lydia, grandly.
“Yes,” responded Elizabeth, “an adventure. I suppose it could be.”