Chapter Nineteen #3
Elinor tensed. The thought of Colonel Fitzwilliam had been ever-present in her mind since coming to Netherfield, though she knew him to be in London. Her feelings had been in great tumult since last she had seen him, and yet she cherished some small hope of seeing him returned from town already.
She shook her head, determined not to be affected by Lady Rebecca’s machinations. “Marianne might be swayed by John being turned out of Norland, but I am not. I had no desire for justice nor vengeance; I am practical enough to understand that I do not benefit from my half-brother’s loss.”
“You might,” Lady Rebecca said with a confident smile.
“Last autumn, the Bennets were visited by their cousin Collins, the former heir to Longbourn, who sought to make amends to the daughters of the house….”
Lady Rebecca swatted the air as if to dismiss Elinor’s argument. “That comparison is hardly fair. I met my aunt’s former parson last summer, and I would not marry him if he offered me the entire kingdom.”
“But to see something you dearly love treated as a mere trifle, to be lost and won over cards….” Elinor pressed her lips together and blinked rapidly, fighting tears.
Lady Rebecca stalked closer, studying Elinor curiously. “You claim to be a practical creature; can you not see the expediency of overcoming your moral objections? I am sure you like Richard very much.”
Elinor wiped her face and gazed heavenward in exasperation.
“I hope I am as principled as I am practical,” she cried.
But what she really wished was for the eloquence to express her feelings.
“When I first arrived at Longbourn, Kitty admired a bonnet in a shop window, and told me she had been saving her allowance for it. Lydia borrowed sixpence from Jane and bought the bonnet herself, then told Kitty that she could have it, if she would consent to do Lydia’s mending for a month. Do you truly not understand?”
“I should like to,” Lady Rebecca replied.
“I have a great propensity to get what I want, generally through charm, and where that fails, intimidation. If there were something I desired, and somebody else acquired it, I suppose I should be quite put out if they were to set any terms whatsoever in gifting it to me.”
“Particularly the terms of marriage,” Elinor said heatedly.
“You, who claim you shall never enter into such bonds again, ought to understand; I certainly do, having seen so much of men to disappoint.” Angry tears streamed down Elinor’s face as she thought of Edward, of Willoughby, and even of how John had wronged her family.
Lady Rebecca's posture seemed to deflate a little, her gaze turned remorseful, and then she pulled Elinor into a warm embrace. “I do not mean to be such a bully, but I would wish you both happy.”
Elinor relished the comfort of Lady Rebecca’s embrace and gave way to her tears until they were spent.
When she finally broke away from her friend, she retrieved a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe her face.
Lady Rebecca smiled wryly and ran her fingers over the corner of the handkerchief, where the initials RGF were embroidered.
“Would it be any easier if he did not hold the deed to Norland?”
“Perhaps. I should still require time. I have lately come to share your dim view of men, having been very ill-used by their sex. It would entirely depend upon your brother’s patience – if he has more of it than you do.”
Lady Rebecca chuckled ruefully. “I could assure you that he does, but I suppose you ought to discover that for yourself. But I am reminded of owing him a response to the letter I received this morning; shall I give you some privacy?”
“I would be happy to begin pasting the gold flowers to the trees, if you wish,” Elinor said, thinking the distraction just what would suit her. But she could not resist asking, “Will your brother be returning from London for the party?”
Lady Rebecca smiled broadly but gave no further answer than a wink as she sauntered out of the room.
***
The next day, Lady Lucas and her eldest daughter called at Netherfield. The three ladies were in the library, where the morning light was most beneficial for their sewing; they sat cross-legged on the carpet by the window, dozens of hastily stitched-together gold silk flowers piled around them.
Marianne was the first to hear a carriage outside, and she sat up onto her knees to peek out the window, gold flowers spilling from her lap. “Good Lord! The Lucases are insufferably desperate!”
“The Lucases?” Lady Rebecca wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I told Charlotte Lucas when I encountered her yesterday at Longbourn that I would pass along her farewell to Charles, for he is really quite busy.”
Elinor completed another silk flower and tossed it onto one of the heaps. “Is he not just rearranging tables in the parlor?”
“Poor man, but all the footmen are occupied in other preparations.” Lady Rebecca shrugged, and resumed her handiwork, swiftly pulling a thread through the five bundles of gold fabric and tying a knot that caused the silk to splay out like blooming petals.
“We ought to go and rescue him,” Marianne cried, stumbling as she rose from sitting so long. Her companions laughed as she careened into an armchair and fumbled to right herself.
“Your dignity may be more than our poor guests can bear,” Lady Rebecca laughed, but she rose and extended a hand to help Elinor stand.
Marianne did not wait for them as she hurried to the parlor, reaching it by a side door just as the Lucases were shown in from the corridor.
She stopped so suddenly she swayed a little and clung to the doorjamb.
Her gaze fixed on Mr. Bingley, whose coat and waistcoat had been removed and draped over a sofa.
A sofa that he was presently pushing across the room, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, the fabric straining against his flexed muscles.
A strangled sound came from her throat and Marianne covered it with a cough; Lady Rebecca clapped her roughly on the back, flashing her a naughty smile as she strode forward to greet the Lucases.
“How good of you to call, even after I mentioned yesterday that I would convey your regards to Charles. You find us just as busy as I said we were, preparing for an upcoming entertainment. Do dress yourself, Charles, or Miss Lucas may wish to sever the acquaintance entirely when she returns from London!”
Marianne hummed a little sigh as she watched him swiftly don his garments, his fingers working deftly over the buttons of his waistcoat. He glanced over and smiled at catching her out, and Marianne gave an impatient shake of her head as she jolted herself from her reverie.
Lady Rebecca bade her guests take a seat, and Marianne moved quickly to ensure that Charlotte Lucas could not claim a seat beside Mr. Bingley. He smiled again at Marianne, in such a way that she knew they were both pondering the spilled wine with no little satisfaction.
“It is entirely possible my dear girl may not return from London,” Lady Lucas tittered.
“My son and his wife Lady Selina intend to play matchmaker for my dear girl. Her poor heart was broken over the death of her betrothed, and I am sure a new attachment shall be her cure. Her brother has always doted upon her, and I am sure he will be praising her gentle manners, her good morals, and her intelligence to anybody who will hear him! I can scarcely bear to part with her, for she is so useful at home. And such a hearty creature, not prone to illness, like some.”
Miss Lucas had the grace to look a little mortified by her mother’s excessive recommendation, but her humility was fleeting. “I have lately reconciled with Lady Selina after an old quarrel that went on too long – just as I have forgiven Eliza for our recent dispute.”
Miss Lucas nodded to Marianne and Elinor with a smug smile.
“Lady Selina is Lord Avery’s daughter – I wonder if your sisters may know her, Mr. Bingley.
She moves in the first circles, as I understand they do, in London.
I hope I meet with Miss Bingley again, for she is so fashionable and vastly clever. ”
Marianne tried to keep her smile civil, though her lips twitched, yearning to form a satirical grin.
She shared a glance with Mr. Bingley, who had vented his spleen at length about his sisters during their exploration of the attic the day before.
Mr. Bingley seemed to experience a similar struggle, but he recovered himself enough to say that he did not know of his sisters having any such acquaintance.
“I had no idea you were in want of a new beau so soon after losing Mr. Collins,” Marianne said sweetly.
She turned to Lady Rebecca, who sat on her other side.
“My friend here is the niece of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She met her aunt’s late parson, and I daresay took his measure.
Perhaps you ought to appeal to Lady Rebecca, who my sister accused just yesterday of having a fascination for making matches.
Surely Lady Rebecca must understand what sort of man captured your heart the first time. ”
Lady Rebecca discreetly pinched Marianne, while Mr. Bingley began to cough.
Marianne clapped him on the back as playfully as Lady Rebecca had done to her.
“Lady Selina Lucas, I believe I do recognize the name,” Lady Rebecca mused.
“Yes, I recall we have met; she is a very amusing, elegant creature. Ah, but I never imagined you to be related to her… Lucas being a common enough name.”
“Shall either of you be returning to London soon? You cannot really mean to amuse yourselves here for much longer,” Lady Lucas said.