Chapter 30 #2
“If you wish for me to remain at Longbourn, Mama, then you will do as I ask in this matter,” she said, striving for steadiness and thinking, with some relief, that her voice sounded calmer than she felt.
“Should Mr Bingley pay a call, we shall receive him kindly and politely, but you will not press him to remain, nor speak of courtship, engagement, or marriage until the gentleman himself has spoken to Papa—if he ever does. I will not again be pushed towards him, or towards any other gentleman.”
For several long moments, Mrs Bennet did nothing but stare at her.
Jane wondered uneasily whether her mother expected her to apologise if subjected to a sufficiently severe glare.
It was not quite the method by which Mama generally prevailed upon Papa, but perhaps Mrs Bennet possessed enough sense to recognise that tears and lamentations would gain her little in this instance.
At last, her mother said stiffly, “Very well.”
Only a few moments later, however, she rose and excused herself to her room with unusual quietness.
Jane remained where she was for several minutes, attempting to recover her composure. By the end of the exchange, she had been genuinely uncertain whether she possessed the strength to maintain her position beneath her mother’s disapproving gaze, yet somehow she had endured it.
Once she felt sufficiently calm, she rose and went in search of her father.
It was not long before she gained admittance to Mr Bennet’s book room. Taking a seat opposite him, Jane found herself suddenly uncertain how to begin. Her courage with her mother seemed far easier than speaking plainly of herself.
“Papa,” she said at last, “I wish for you to hire the companion we discussed some time ago.”
Mr Bennet lowered his book slightly, regarding her with immediate curiosity.
Jane drew in a slow breath before continuing.
“I believe it would be beneficial for Mama to have someone capable of tempering some of her more imprudent behaviour, but…” She faltered briefly before forcing herself onward.
“If I am honest, I think the lessons are needed as much for myself as for anyone.”
That seemed at once to command her father’s full attention.
“At present, I am certain I ought to remain at Longbourn,” she continued softly, “but I believe I require instruction in understanding the world more clearly than I have thus far. I have gone through life believing it enough merely to be quiet and agreeable—that serenity and good intentions alone would see me safely through every difficulty.”
A faint flush rose in her cheeks, but she forced herself to continue.
“Yet I am beginning to realise that something essential has been lacking in me. I have not always seen people as clearly as I ought, nor spoken when perhaps I should have done.”
Mr Bennet studied her thoughtfully for a moment before replying. “Only a few days ago, your mother was triumphantly declaring that Mr Bingley’s return to Netherfield meant you would be married within the month.”
Jane lowered her eyes briefly before giving a small shake of her head.
“That seems exceedingly unlikely, considering we do not even know with certainty that he truly intends to return,” she replied.
“And even if he does, I have not heard from him in many months. No, Papa, I sincerely doubt anything will occur between Mr Bingley and myself so quickly… and I am no longer certain that anything shall occur at all.”
Sunday, 20 September 1812
Jane was surprised to see Mr Bingley at church the following morning.
He entered only a few minutes before the service began, leaving little opportunity for him to greet anyone properly.
As he took his place in the Netherfield pew, he looked in her direction and acknowledged her with a nod and a warm smile.
For a moment, Jane’s attention faltered. It had been many months since she had seen him, and she would have been less than honest with herself had she pretended his presence meant nothing. Still, she soon lowered her eyes to her prayer book and made an effort to attend to Mr Allen’s sermon.
It was not always a successful effort. Her thoughts strayed more than once towards the opposite pew, though she could see very little of him, hemmed in as she was by the high panels of the Bennets’ pew and the congregation seated in their accustomed places.
Now and then, when they stood for a hymn or a response, she caught a glimpse of his fair hair or the turn of his shoulder, but she did not allow herself to look long.
Church was not the place for speculation, and she had spent too many months already wondering what Mr Bingley might feel, think, or intend.
Whatever his reasons for returning to Meryton, they were not hers to invent.
He might have come because it was expected of him as the master of Netherfield, however temporary that claim might be.
He might have wished merely to show himself in the neighbourhood again.
Or he might have had some other purpose entirely.