2. 25 October 1811
ELIZABETH
Elizabeth Bennet was not looking forward to the evening’s gathering nearly as much as her sisters—particularly Jane, since she looked forward to spending time with her gentleman caller, Mr Bingley.
Elizabeth examined her restive, discontented feelings and thoughts as rigorously as she could, attempting to see them as a stranger might.
Since she thought more clearly when she was in motion, she put on her half-boots, bonnet, and outdoor layers, and she strode outside to take the familiar trail to Oakham Mount.
Elizabeth’s fear was that she envied her elder sister Jane, and she dearly hoped that was not the reason for her lack of enthusiasm.
Jane deserved every happiness. The two eldest Bennet sisters used to whisper together about their hopes and dreams, and the ridiculous notion that handsome, rich strangers would swoop into their lives and fall in love with them—well, when they got a bit older, they knew how very unlikely those daydreams were.
And yet, this very scenario had occurred. For Jane, that is.
Mr Bingley was very handsome, with his fine form, dark blond hair, and green-blue eyes.
His smile was almost perpetually on display, and he showed grace and manners in everything he did.
He was also very rich, according to the gossip that their mother insisted was verified, with an income of five thousand a year!
That sum, for a single man, seemed astronomical to Elizabeth. Their entire family of seven made do with only two thousand a year.
Jane was sweet and kind and quietly contented, and she had been thus her entire life.
As their mother constantly said, she was also very beautiful.
She looked perfect on Mr Bingley’s arm, and her smiles and blushes and kind interpretation of others’ words and behaviours seemed to be a perfect complement to Mr Bingley’s happy mien and his friendly approach to man, woman, and beast. The two had immediately become smitten with one another, starting the night they met less than a fortnight ago.
Since then, Mr Bingley had called on Jane five times, and Elizabeth did not doubt that they were both in a fair way of falling in love.
Having thought about all of that, Elizabeth felt very certain—and relieved—that her feelings about Jane and Mr Bingley were entirely positive and unmuddied by jealousy.
So…why am I reluctant to go to Lucas Lodge?
She reiterated her original question as she reached the top of the hill. The flat-topped boulder that she always climbed happened to face Lucas Lodge, although most of the year it was difficult to see the house through the trees.
Finding herself facing the home of her best friend, Charlotte Lucas, and having just considered (and, thank goodness, discarded) the possibility that she herself was jealous of Jane, a memory cropped up.
The morning after the Meryton assembly where Mr Bingley met Jane, the Lucas ladies had come as they always did, eager to discuss the dance. At the time, Elizabeth had not thoroughly analysed Charlotte’s words, but now she thought, She is the one who is jealous of Jane!
Elizabeth realised that Charlotte was facing a scary future.
She was seven and twenty years old, and although Elizabeth loyally considered her friend to be quite lovely, her features were…
less than distinct?… Her nose was small and upturned—one of Charlotte’s brothers said with some frequency that it looked as if it had been squashed.
Her eyes were a bit smaller than was desirable and so deep-set they did not catch the light well.
Her smile was pleasant, her voice was appealing, but her chest was quite flat and her figure was…
well, Elizabeth supposed thin was a good descriptor, but the word boney came to mind, as well.
At any rate, seven and twenty, with very little dowry, and described by many as plain…. Elizabeth hated that her friend was considered “on the shelf,” but the matrons of the area labeled her thusly, firmly stating that she was unlikely to ever marry.
What had Charlotte said, the day after the assembly, that Elizabeth now assumed was evidence of envy?
She remembered that Charlotte had not been very complimentary towards Mr Bingley.
By the end of their talk, Elizabeth felt that her words had transformed into warnings: “Mr Bingley does seem to have happy manners, although a true gentleman would not show so much partiality so quickly…. But do you really think such a wealthy young man could have honourable intentions with ladies such as us? …Jane, I pray that you guard your heart. It may be that his heart is not on offer, though he acts as if it is.”
At the time, Jane had turned aside every warning with her usual sort of gentle positivity, and Elizabeth had been so eager to see Mr Bingley as everything good, she had backed her sister with passion, but now she sat on a fallen log and set about to better consider Charlotte’s words.
First and foremost, everything Charlotte said was quite wise. Jane’s positive outlook was, at times, ingenuous, even credulous. Elizabeth and Charlotte both acted as Jane’s protectors when necessary.
It was Charlotte’s tone that Elizabeth had barely registered at the time but that now seemed to her to be sharper than usual. Did “sharper than usual” translate to being envious? She was not certain.
But what she was sure of was that, with all of Mr Bingley’s calls, plus Elizabeth’s self-assigned duties of calling on Longbourn’s tenants, checking the figures in the steward’s monthly report, and attempting to teach her younger sisters some French—well, she had not seen Charlotte since that conversation.
Elizabeth promised herself to consider Charlotte’s warnings as she observed Mr Bingley’s behaviour towards Jane.
She also decided to be alert to the possibility that Charlotte was suffering from assumptions and labels about herself, and that she might be feeling jealous of a much-younger lady who may have an eligible suitor.
It would be a delicate balance to protect Jane, soothe Charlotte, and continue to be warm towards Mr Bingley, but having thought carefully about what might occur at the gathering, Elizabeth found herself eager to go.
All of Elizabeth’s careful analysis had ignored an obvious problem: Mr Bingley’s pernicious sisters.
As soon as the Bennets reached Lucas Lodge and entered the packed drawing room, Mr Bingley rushed to Jane’s side, and Charlotte made swift work of crossing the room to be by Elizabeth’s side.
However, all four found themselves only a foot away from Miss Bingley and her elder sister, Mrs Hurst. Elizabeth could hardly be accused of eavesdropping when she stood in a crowded room and overheard Miss Bingley say, “Oh, no, the Bennets are here! The insipid Miss Bennet and her pack of ill-behaved sisters—oh! And the vulgar Mrs Bennet!”
Elizabeth took only a single step towards the ladies before she was close enough to politely say, “Good evening, Miss Bingley, Mrs Hurst. I hope you both have a delightful evening, despite the fact that some guests here have a tendency towards ill behaviour.”
Mrs Hurst blushed deeply, although she was not the one who had been so insulting towards her family.
Miss Bingley did not seem to mind being overheard; she merely lifted her nose and sniffed.
The two sisters walked away, the feathers on their headdresses bobbing, and Elizabeth turned back to check the damage.
Charlotte smiled grimly, and Elizabeth looked to Jane, hoping that she had not been crushed by being insulted—and then she realised that both Mr Bingley and Jane had done the impossible: they had not even heard Miss Bingley’s affront.
Elizabeth had to laugh at herself. She had felt so angry at Miss Bingley calling her sister insipid, she had wished to snatch the lady’s turban off her head and snap the feather in two.
She practically bled for her sister’s hurt.
But now that she realised that her sister was not upset in the least—that she had not even heard the insult—Elizabeth wished to shake Jane.
“Can we move to a spot where we will not be overheard?” Elizabeth pleaded with Charlotte.
Her friend led the way to her father’s study. “We could shout in this room and nobody would hear,” Charlotte promised.
Elizabeth grinned and said, “No shouting—I promise. I just wished to ask you…well, about Mr Bingley. He has called on Jane five times. Does that mean they are courting, or does he have to take an official step to make it a courtship?”
“Oh, my, five times!”
Elizabeth studied her friend’s expression and tone.
She felt a pang of sympathy, for Charlotte did seem to feel a bit of envy.
Her friend took a deep breath and said, “Honestly, Eliza, I am not certain if there are well established rules for the next step. If we all lived in London, I believe Mr Bingley and Jane would take a chaperoned stroll in Hyde Park, or they could ride Rotten Row together. Also, they might attend events such as a play and opera together, again chaperoned. Everyone would begin to see them as a couple, and other men who were calling on Jane would likely step back, out of the picture.”
Nodding, Elizabeth said, “But there are precious few eligible bachelors and no opera hall at all here in Meryton.”
Charlotte seemed to consider for a moment, and then she said, “Even though Mr Bingley has not been in the area all that long, I believe most people see him as paying your sister particular attention, and I do think there is some danger to her reputation should he not be serious…or honourable.”
“I see,” Elizabeth said. “I am not certain what Jane can do to avoid damage to her reputation, for surely it is unwise to turn away a caller whom one really likes.”
“She should at least attempt to tell and show him her own feelings in an attempt to secure him.”