Chapter Three #3
“Yes,” said Jane. “But it’s very odd, I suppose, because she did not go directly to her brother with it, did she?
Instead, she came to me, and she cornered me, and she said only, ‘I believe this is your sister’s,’ and she thrust it at me.
I read it, and she stayed to watch, and she seemed to get rather a great deal of delight out all of my reactions, at my horror and shame.
She smiled at me, and it was an awful sort of smile, the smile that people make when they are taking great satisfaction in your suffering.
She hates me, Lizzy. She hates us both. She said, ‘Go and speak to your sister and meet me tomorrow on the road by the large oak near Netherfield, early, for a private walk and a private conversation of all of this.’”
Elizabeth was alarmed. “Oh, God in heaven. She is going to demand that you break the engagement, leave your brother, and I won’t have that, not for my sake. We must find some other way to appease her. What can we do?” Why was it that Elizabeth was so dreadful at thinking of solutions these days?
“If she does that, I shall go to Charles,” said Jane quietly.
“He will not abandon me, of that I am certain. We have spoken too often, on too many occasions, of how miserable we both were, these past many months, without the other. We’ll find somewhere to send you, I suppose, one of those homes for women who are increasing without husbands, somewhere discreet, somewhere far away.
He will help us, and he will silence Caroline. ”
Elizabeth knew of those sorts of places, of course, but it was the height of ignominy to be sent to a place like that.
She well knew how women were treated in those places.
People might be there to help the women, but they thought the women likely deserved it, that the women had sinned and were meant to be punished.
Jane sighed. “You could thank me, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth looked up at her. “Thank you?”
“For reacting as I am. For being helpful to you at all. If we decided to throw you out, we’d be well within the bounds of decency, and you well know it. I could tell Mama, and she would agree with me.”
Elizabeth’s lips parted. Was this Jane? Was this her sister who saw the good in everyone? Who was sweet and giving and careful? Why was she behaving in this manner towards her? “You are hurt that I didn’t tell you straightaway, I suppose.”
“No, I suppose I understand. You were ashamed of yourself.”
“Primarily, you were so happy that I did not wish to burden you with it.”
Jane raised her eyebrows. When her voice came out, it was faintly sarcastic. “Yes, that’s like you, Lizzy, thinking only of me, never of yourself.”
Elizabeth was not used to hearing her sister speak ironically, let alone bitingly. “You think I am selfish?”
“No,” said Jane. “Not intentionally. And not as bad as Lydia or Kitty. But you do have the tendency to do impulsive things and not think through the consequences. Refusing Mr. Collins is only one example. There is the way that you came after me when I was staying at Longbourn, of course, when I was ill, that’s another example. ”
“But I did that for you, too! You were sick, and I had to see if you were all right. I was terribly worried.”
“They already thought poorly of us, Lizzy! Then you arrived, unchaperoned, mud on your skirts, hair untidy, demanding to see me? Then you immediately get into sparring matches with Mr. Darcy—”
“Sparring matches?” said Elizabeth. “You were in bed the entire time, ill, and I don’t see why you think—”
“I have heard all about everything you said. ‘I rather wonder at your knowing any accomplished women,’ you said. You said, ‘Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself.’”
“These were all jests,” said Elizabeth. “They were not… there was no sparring.”
“But you hated him, because he had rejected you at the ball, had ridiculed you. You hated him enough that you turned down his marriage proposal, and—”
“Stop it, Jane,” said Elizabeth, who could not bear to hear recriminations from elsewhere that sounded like the recriminations she gave herself.
“I am sorry,” said Jane, shaking her head.
“It does not matter, anyway, because I am not going to argue with you about it. The fact remains that you are sometimes thoughtless, that you do not always think things through before you act. And that I can see how you could have gotten yourself into some kind of wretched situation like this, even though you would not have meant to do so.”
Elizabeth realized that her sister did not, in fact, believe her.
She also realized that she and Jane had been separated for the better part of eight months.
Jane had been in London, hoping in vain for the attention of Mr. Bingley, being rejected by Caroline, and living with that sort of disappointment.
What had that done to Jane, in the end? How had it colored her opinion of others?
Had she lost some of her optimism, some of her belief in the goodness of everyone?
They had been together only for a few weeks in May before Elizabeth had gone off to Brighton and then Jane had gone with the Gardiners. If Jane’s essential personality had changed, Elizabeth might not have seen it.
“We shall go tomorrow to speak to Caroline,” said Jane. “And you are my beloved sister, and I shall make sure that we find some solution for you, something that spares your reputation and the family’s. And I trust that Charles will find a way to quiet Caroline if necessary.”