Chapter 13 Friends
The four sisters sat in the drawing room working on their mending while despairing over the fate of their youngest sister.
Jane laid her petticoat aside to dry her eyes. She blew her nose and then took up her needle once more. “I pray our sister is not suffering greatly.”
Elizabeth said, “That will depend entirely upon the men into whose hands she has fallen.
I imagine that, because she is so young, so beautiful, and a gentlewoman besides, they will reserve her for gentlemen.
Whether those gentlemen have any regard for a woman's dignity, even a fallen woman, is another matter.”
Jane bowed her head and began to weep anew.
Mary said, “Since we cannot know what has befallen our sister or how she fares, I believe we should speak of something else.”
Elizabeth looked to Kitty. “How are you, Kitty? You ate very little at breakfast this morning.”
Kitty kept her eyes upon the stocking she was darning. “I have no appetite, Lizzy, and I can scarcely rise from my bed in the mornings.”
“Do you blame yourself for what has befallen Lydia?”
Kitty covered her face with one hand. “It is all my fault, Lizzy. Had I spoken to Papa, he might have prevented her from running away.”
The sisters listened as the younger girl poured out her heart. Kitty had lost her favorite sister to a dreadful fate and now laid the entire blame upon herself simply because she was the elder of the two and believed she should have known better.
When Kitty had said all that weighed upon her heart, Elizabeth spoke.
“Kitty, we all bear some measure of responsibility for Lydia's ruin, beginning with Papa.
As the head of our family, he alone possessed the authority to govern Lydia's conduct, yet he failed to exercise it until it was too late. The rest of us saw things we ought to have spoken of sooner. We all failed her in one way or another, and Lydia herself made choices that brought about this terrible end.”
The sisters spoke quietly for some time, each acknowledging the part she believed she had played in Lydia's downfall.
At last, Jane said, “Kitty, you must remember that you are still very young yourself. You are little more than a child. And it is possible that had you spoken, Lydia might have been saved. But she was exceedingly headstrong and may well have found another way to meet that man. We have all learned a painful lesson from this tragedy, and now we must learn to forgive ourselves for our failings.”
Their attention was drawn to the sound of a carriage pulling up the drive. They rose as one and went to the window. A handsome carriage stopped before the entrance to Longbourn, and they watched as Mr. Bingley stepped down and assisted an elegantly dressed lady from the carriage.
“Mr. Bingley,” Jane said.
Their mending was quickly tucked into their sewing baskets, which were then put away in a cupboard. The sisters resumed their seats and waited for their guests to be shown in.
Within minutes, Hill entered the drawing room, followed by Mr. Bingley and a tall young woman with lovely copper-red hair and green eyes. The four sisters rose as Mr. Bingley performed introductions.
Once tea had been served, the sisters listened with great interest as Mr. Bingley recounted his encounter with a gander.
“I assure you, Miss Bennet, I had just walked to the stable to fetch my horse when a great gander came charging around the corner of the barn. His neck was outstretched, his wings flapping, and he hissed at me most ferociously. I am not ashamed to confess that I turned and ran from him.”
The earnestness of his expression made the tale all the more comical, and the sisters could not help smiling.
“Just as I thought the danger had passed, I heard Cloud stamping and neighing. The wretched bird charged my horse, bit him, and began striking him about the face with his wings. Cloud is the gentlest creature imaginable, but the attack proved too much for him, and he bolted. Two stable boys and I spent the next hour attempting to catch my thoroughly terrified horse.”
His expression became perfectly solemn.
“Nor did I escape unscathed. At one point, the gander turned upon me and bit my arm. I would show you, ma'am, if I could, but that would hardly be proper. You would scarcely believe the size of the bruise he left upon my forearm, and he even broke the skin.”
The sisters regarded him with expressions of sincere sympathy and murmured words of commiseration as he finished his tale.
Miss Bingley then addressed Jane.
“Miss Bennet, is that embroidery intended for a fire screen? The floral design and the color combination are absolutely lovely. Whose work is it?”
Pleased by the compliment, Jane replied, “It is mine, Miss Bingley. Would you care to see it?”
“Indeed, I would, if you please.”
Jane rose and retrieved the embroidery frame from the table where she had left it. Crossing to Miss Bingley, the two young women bent over the work together while Jane explained how she had transferred the design to the fine linen and where she had purchased the silk thread.
Mr. Bingley turned to Elizabeth. “Ma'am, as you know, I have come to learn what I can about managing an estate. Is now a convenient time to begin?”
“Of course, sir. I shall bring our field journal for you to examine. It is an excellent example of the records my father kept to improve the yields from year to year.”
Elizabeth withdrew to her father's study and selected the appropriate journal. When she returned, she invited Mr. Bingley to join her at a table near the window. She opened the volume before him so he could read it easily, then explained what had been recorded and why each entry mattered.
There were columns devoted to every field on the estate, recording its name, acreage, soil type, drainage, crop, yield, and other pertinent information.
She then showed Mr. Bingley how she and her father had compared each year's harvest with those of previous years. In that way, they could determine whether their soil amendments, crop rotation, and other improvements had been successful. The discussion continued for nearly an hour.
At last, Mr. Bingley rose.
“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, I fear we have overstayed our welcome. I beg your pardon. We have been here a full hour.”
Jane smiled kindly. “Think nothing of it, sir. We receive very few callers these days. People seem to find it awkward to visit us, fearing they may say the wrong thing. I have greatly enjoyed becoming acquainted with Miss Bingley.”
Elizabeth added, “Nor has it been any burden to me, sir. I am pleased to share whatever knowledge may be of use to you.”
Mr. Bingley looked genuinely gratified.
“Miss Elizabeth, if that is truly so, may I call again tomorrow? I should like to examine the other records you and your father kept. With your permission, I shall purchase several notebooks and copy the headings of your various journals so that I may begin keeping similar records at Netherfield. My friend Mr. Darcy will be greatly impressed to find that I have already begun such estate journals.”
This brought smiles to all four sisters.
Elizabeth said, “It is my pleasure, sir. At what hour would you like to come?”
They settled upon one o'clock, and the Bingleys soon took their leave.
The two elder sisters walked with them to their carriage.
From the way Mr. Bingley looked at Jane and the warmth with which he spoke to her, Elizabeth could see that he was much taken with her.
As she studied Jane's face, she realized the feeling was mutual.
She smiled to herself. Perhaps, after all they had endured, Jane might find happiness with this amiable, wealthy gentleman.
* * *
That first visit established the pattern for all those that followed.
Each day, the Bingleys arrived at Longbourn promptly at one o'clock.
Mr. Bingley and Elizabeth spent the first hour poring over the estate records, learning how to forecast the following year's planting, analyze crop yields, and improve the land through crop rotation, soil amendments, drainage, and other sound agricultural practices.
Afterward, Mr. Bingley and Jane would stroll through the rose garden or tour his estate in his phaeton, while their sisters remained at Longbourn, occupied with their embroidery.
Miss Bingley was taken with Jane's fire screen and wished to learn more about her use of color.
During these afternoons, Elizabeth brought out Jane's embroidery samplers, embroidered reticules, and other examples of her needlework.
She also led Miss Bingley on a tour of Longbourn so that she might admire the various fire screens Jane had completed over the years.
“Your sister is truly gifted, Miss Elizabeth. Her choice of colors is remarkably elegant, and her ability to create depth through shading is quite advanced. I do not believe I have ever seen finer work. May I see the silks Jane used in creating this reticule?”
Elizabeth carried the basket of silk threads to the table, where she selected the various shades Jane had used, arranging them from the lightest tones to the deepest. Together, the two young women studied how Jane had blended the colors to create depth and dimension.
Miss Bingley embroidered several small practice pieces, experimenting with the combinations before selecting those she intended to use in her own work.
By late August, the two families had become quite close.
The Bingleys often dined with the Bennet sisters, and once each week, the sisters were invited to dine at Netherfield.
Every Sunday after church, the Bingleys walked the sisters back to Longbourn, where they enjoyed a cold collation of meats, cheeses, fresh bread, and wine in the rose garden courtyard.
It was not long before everyone in both families understood that Jane and Mr. Bingley were courting.
One evening, as Elizabeth helped Jane undress, she said, “Sister, Mr. Bingley is quite taken with you.”
Jane smiled radiantly. “Yes, Lizzy, he is. He has begun to hint at marriage.”
As Elizabeth continued unfastening the buttons of Jane's bodice, Jane suddenly turned to face her.
“Do you believe I ought to tell him of our sister's ruin?”
Elizabeth straightened, a frown of concern crossing her face.
“Must you, Jane? That secret has been safely laid to rest. All our neighbors believe Lydia died when Papa was shot.”
“Yes, Lizzy, but what if one of us lets the truth slip at some future time? Or what if that villain returns to Meryton and boasts of what he did?”
Elizabeth's brow furrowed. “That is highly unlikely. Surely, he knows he would be hanged for murdering Papa. I cannot imagine he would ever show his face in this county again. He would be risking his own life.”
Jane was silent for a long moment before she spoke again.
“How can I keep such a thing from the man I love? You know it could affect his unmarried sister's prospects as well. It could cast a shadow over his children. Oh, Lizzy, what am I to do?”
Jane collapsed onto the bed and covered her face in her hands, weeping.
After a time, she said through her sobs, “I have fallen in love with Mr. Bingley, and he loves me. I ought not to have allowed it, knowing what has befallen our family, knowing we lie under the curse of our ruin.”
“Jane, stop this. Both Uncle Phillips and Uncle Edward believe the worst lies behind us, buried with Mamma and Papa, and with the loss of our sister. If the four of us keep this secret, no harm will come to any of our future families.”
“No, Lizzy, you do not understand because you have not loved a man. I love Mr. Bingley, and I cannot imagine keeping such a secret from him.” She lifted her head and met Elizabeth's gaze. “And think how he would feel should the truth ever come to light. He would never trust me again.”
Elizabeth sat beside Jane and took her hand in her own.
“Are you going to tell him our secret then?”
Jane covered her face again. “I do not know. I do not know. The thought of his being somewhere in this world thinking ill of me exceeds anything I can bear. How can I tell him such a thing? He will leave me, and then how shall I endure the rest of my life?”
“Perhaps he will stay by your side, Jane. I believe he truly loves you.”
Breaking down into a fresh wave of tears, she answered. “But how can I bring such a disgrace upon him and his sister? Any children we might have? I cannot do it, Lizzy. I cannot do such a thing to him.”
“Dear sister, you must allow him the choice to stay by your side or to leave. You cannot simply walk away from him without telling him why you abandon him.”
Jane raised her head. Despair filled her eyes.
In that moment, Elizabeth hated Lydia. She hated her for what she had done to her most beloved sister. Through her thoughtless actions she had broken Jane's heart.
Then shame followed. Lydia had been but a child, ignorant of the consequences of her conduct. The fault did not rest with Lydia alone. They had all shared in the child's ruin.
Tears ran down Elizabeth's cheeks as she slipped an arm around Jane's shoulders and rested her head against her sister's fair hair.
After a time, Jane drew a breath and lifted her head. “I will tell him, Lizzy. I will tell him about Lydia, and then I will leave as planned for Uncle Edward's. But I shall never marry. I cannot give my heart to another.”
“What will you do?”
“I shall hire myself out as a governess and count myself fortunate if anyone will employ me. You know, Lizzy, the loss of our respectability would hinder our chances of obtaining such a position should Lydia's ruin ever become known.”
“I beg two things of you, Jane, dear. Do not decide your future until you have spoken with Mr. Bingley. Perhaps, against all expectation, he will stand by you, and you will find it in your heart to give your union a chance.”
Elizabeth drew back from her sister to look into her eyes.
“And secondly, wait until we hear from Mr. Collins. Then we shall have to remove to London. Wait until then. Enjoy what little time you have left with Mr. Bingley, and allow him the comfort of your company while he may. Please promise me at least this much. Tell him, but keep an open mind. Do not resolve the matter before you have heard what he has to say.”