Chapter Ten
Jane felt lighter than she had in months.
Of course, she knew it was scandalous to have danced again with Captain Wentworth when they were all meant to vary their partners, so that every young lady might stand up with every gentleman.
When Captain Wentworth asked her for a second dance, she was grateful to be spared the approach of Mr. Bingley, who looked at her as if he were entirely insensible of ever having given her pain.
She wondered if it were the same for Captain Wentworth – Frederick, as she had come to privately think of him, though she was not bold enough to address him as such.
Surely he must wish to avoid dancing with the one who had broken his heart, or even that lady’s sister, though Anne seemed pleasant enough despite her kinship to such a mercenary woman as Elizabeth Elliot.
Indeed, the woman was so cold and conceited that she wondered how Frederick could ever have become attached to her, or she to him.
But Jane refused to allow such thoughts to diminish her enjoyment of the evening, or a single moment of the four weeks to follow.
The invitation to Richmond Cove had been a lifeline for her, though the initial hope she had felt at meeting again with Mr. Bingley had blessedly blossomed into a hope for herself.
Elizabeth, too, had helped more than she could ever know.
In the weeks between Elizabeth’s arrival in London, and their journey south, Jane had resolved to make a show of her contentment for her sister’s benefit, until it became the truth.
To be sure, Elizabeth was no fool, and Jane knew the letters she had sent her sister in Kent had painted a dismal picture, but the longer she remained cheerful for Elizabeth’s sake, the more she really felt better.
Meeting Frederick and hearing his stories had been the final piece to her recovery.
To discover the shallow insipidity of what she had shared with Mr. Bingley had granted her the peace to let him go.
She was even pleased to see him so well-amused by the flawless society beauty with dark hair and dark eyes.
After dinner, when they returned to the ballroom, Miss Bingley sought Jane out to elaborate on what was evident already.
“How glad I am that we have all come together,” Miss Bingley boasted, after hastening through the barest civilities – and without expressing a modicum of remorse at abandoning their acquaintance that winter.
“Yes, we have been a merry party in London for many months,” Miss Bingley went on, her voice a calculated purr. Jane felt as if she was beholding her former friend for the first time – indeed, she was no longer convinced Miss Bingley had ever been a friend to her.
“Have you been in London all this time, before coming to Richmond Cove? So have I,” Jane observed with a placid smile.
“Oh,” Miss Bingley sniffed. “Well, of course, as usual, I have been at Charles’ command.
We have spent many happy evenings with Lady Rebecca and her relations, particularly since dear Mr. Darcy returned from Kent.
How severe he was, when first he returned – poor man!
No doubt the horrid aunt was pushing the sickly cousin at him – indeed, he did not recover until we all agreed to come here. ”
Jane pressed her lips together, a smile battling with a grimace.
She knew very well why Mr. Darcy was out of humor after Kent, and if Miss Bingley were truly intimate enough with him to know the particulars, she would hardly be so smug now.
Furthermore, Jane had heard whispers that only Mr. Bingley had been invited, and his sister had insisted upon being of the party without receiving an invitation herself.
“I hope you are not insinuating that Mr. Darcy forced his way into the party in order to recover from a distressing ordeal – it would be unforgivably rude to come here without an explicit invitation.” Jane held Miss Bingley’s gaze; never in her life had she disliked anybody so much, and never had her smile been so false.
Miss Bingley curled her lip and sneered.
“Of course he did not; he is a very highly sought after guest, in the first circles. Indeed, I can say the same of all my companions. Lady Rebecca, in particular, has been such a delight – she and Charles are on far more intimate terms than he ever was with Miss Darcy – forgive me, but you can imagine, I am sure, how family connections might be on one’s mind after so many happy months.
But you must tell me of how you liked London, Jane.
I daresay you saw a very different part of it, but you must have made some fine acquaintance, for I know your mother was vastly concerned with putting you forward. ”
“I did,” Jane said simply.
“Come, we are old friends – you need not be coy with me! How ever did you get an invitation to the ton’s most lauded fête?
” Caroline twisted a loose strand of copper hair around her finger, her gaze vulpine.
“I have heard it suggested that our hostesses like to play matchmaker, particularly with guests who have some prior acquaintance. We have known the Darcys and the Fitzwilliams for many years. Perhaps – well, I would not wish to be indelicate….”
Miss Bingley tipped her head in her brother’s direction.
He was again talking to the dark, petite beauty, his face pink as he seemed to luxuriate in her presence.
Presumably, this ravishing paragon was Lady Rebecca.
She looked rather like Lizzy, if her sister’s every feature had been amplified and yet slightly compacted, polished by the same fates that chose the lucky few to be born into nobility.
Miss Bingley’s affected, triumphant boasting turned to preening as Mr. Darcy approached her.
The pair had already danced together, but the lady clearly seemed to believe he would distinguish her with a second set, though he had never done so in Hertfordshire.
Jane finally allowed herself a small, vicious smile when Mr. Darcy bowed to her before extending his hand, and Miss Bingley’s shoulders slumped.
Jane wanted to ask Mr. Darcy a thousand questions as they danced in silence together. She wished to know if he had truly loved her sister, if he did still, and if that was why he had come here – but she knew that this would more likely hinder what may progress naturally, and she held her tongue.
She danced next with Sir Walter Elliot, which she could not avoid, despite her wish to, and then with Captain Benwick.
After their dance, he led her toward the refreshment table, where Elizabeth had just parted with Mr. Bingley.
Jane had watched her sister have a great deal of conversation with the man, and she was glad when the captain moved away, allowing the sisters a modicum of privacy as they sipped some punch.
“Well, Lizzy, I think you are no longer angry with Mr. Darcy or Mr. Bingley. I am glad of it, and in the instance of the former, not at all surprised.”
“But I hope you are not upset that I was civil to Mr. Bingley.”
“I am not, though neither should I like to be the topic of your conversation.”
“You were not – that is, I think he might have liked to speak of you, but I turned the subject. In truth, we chiefly spoke of his friend Lady Rebecca, Mr. Darcy’s… cousin.”
Jane furrowed her brows, taking in the strange tone in which her sister spoke. Elizabeth was jealous! “Lizzy, you cannot mean to suggest – she and Mr. Darcy! No, I do not think so. Miss Bingley spoke to me earlier, and she dropped a great many hints about Mr. Bingley and Lady Rebecca.”
“And Miss Bingley is to be relied upon? I suppose she has forgotten all about the same hopes she cherished a few months ago for Miss Darcy!
‘Tis wishful thinking – better to call it delusion.” Elizabeth shook her head with a grimace as she glanced over at Lady Rebecca, who was presently delighting both of the gentlemen in question.
“I should not mind if Mr. Bingley did like her,” Jane said. “I would wish him well, though there is something a little daunting in her air. But surely, Lizzy, you would not begrudge Mr. Darcy if he admired her!”
Elizabeth squared her shoulders and tipped her chin up, squirming a little as she did so. “It is not a gratifying sensation, to refuse a man and then see that he had found a lady far better than you.”
“Better than you! In station, perhaps, and in beauty, depending on the eye of the beholder.” Jane brought her fingers to her lips, her eyes flashing a silent apology. She was feeling the effects of the wine at dinner, and now the punch. “Sorry, Lizzy – all I meant is… nobody is you.”
“Well, I certainly am,” Elizabeth quipped, laughing wryly before finishing her own drink and reaching for another. “At least, I should like to be – perhaps tonight I am not myself. Lord! It is not as if I have never beheld a woman lovelier than myself.”
“Does not your courage always rise at every attempt to intimidate you?”
“Something like that,” Elizabeth admitted. “But what of you, Jane? Are you really so fond of Captain Wentworth already, to be completely unaffected by Mr. Bingley?”
Jane gave a heady giggle. “I think I am.”
“Ah! Finally you admit it – but I knew I would wear you down until you confessed!” Elizabeth’s laugh abruptly ebbed away, and she leaned closer. “But are you sure of him? Do you merely like him because you do not wish Mr. Bingley to have the satisfaction of….”
“No, Lizzy! What a thing to say! Of course not.” Jane’s admonishment was gentle, for she hoped her sister was in jest.
Elizabeth looked down at her drink. “And is he in earnest? You do not think he performs to – surely you must know of his history with….”
“Yes, he told me.” Jane frowned, trying to repel this seed of doubt.
“When I danced with Sir Walter, he made a very indiscreet comment concerning his daughter – about allowing her to lower herself, now that the captain has made his fortune. It was mortifying to hear him speak in such a way! I have no doubt that Captain Wentworth feels nothing but contempt toward her – oh, Lizzy, I know you are fond of Miss Anne, but must say that I can understand why he would have nothing but disdain for her father and sister.”
Elizabeth looked pained. “Perhaps – but that should have little to do with his behavior toward you, if it is genuine. I am sorry to put a damper on your high spirits; I only wish you to be happy, and to remain that way.”
“I am entirely in possession of myself,” Jane said, though she was not sure she meant it. She was not the least bit downcast by her sister’s warning – no, her mind was clouded with a pleasant intoxication.
“So you are,” Elizabeth agreed with a twinkle in her eye, the tender concern banished, replaced in her countenance by her usual impishness. “And what shall you do if Mr. Bingley gives pursuit?”
At that moment, Captain Wentworth joined them, though Jane had not noticed his approach. He bowed to them both, and then asked Jane to dance the last with him.
“A third set is perhaps a little scandalous, but it is only a country house party,” he whispered. “And otherwise, I must stand up with one of the Miss Elliots.”
Jane smiled as she slowly raised her hand to rest it on his. She looked over at Elizabeth, whose brows were raised high in bemusement. To answer her sister’s question, she said, “This, Lizzy. I think that should be quite clear.” Elizabeth only laughed as Jane was led off by the handsome captain.