The disaster during and after the ball was fodder for amusement for her father. He made no attempt to restrain his wife or three younger daughters, and he even made matters worse by goading his wife and loudly interrupting Mary. He then allowed Mr Collins to make his obsequious proposal to Elizabeth, knowing full well she would refuse; and he made no effort to direct him to a more suitable daughter, or at least prevent bad blood. His indolence not only left his daughters nearly unmarriageable, but it also guaranteed Mr Collins would evict them from Longbourn before his predecessor was cold in the ground.
Added to that, her foolish father had, in his inimitable way, said to her sister Elizabeth, ‘Next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed a little in love now and then. It is something to think of, and it gives her a sort of distinction among her companions.’ Jane was not feeling distinguished—not in the least. She had spent months examining her feelings and at that moment, her sister was the only one in the family not in disgrace. Her only saving grace was that every trace of affection she ever possessed for the Netherfield residents was snuffed out.
“I woudlna said nothin’ but your Papa is like that,” Betty said.
“I know, and I suppose I should not either, but facts are facts, and he will not change.”
“Yes ma’am. I dinna suppose you can argue with ’em.”
“No,” Jane said, and they stood in silence for a moment. Jane asked if Betty needed to go, and she replied she had plenty of time. If nothing else, at least working for the widow Mason was easier than serving the hellcat Bingley.
“What was it like at Netherfield—if you do not mind my asking?”
“I don’t mind,” Betty replied calmly, since she was by nature incapable of believing Jane would ever harm her.
“The master was right kind, though most think he weren’t much of a master, since that tall fellow did most of the thinkin’ and pretty much all the work.”
“Yes, I fear I had my head turned by a handsome rake, much to my chagrin. Not much better than Lydia in the end.”
“That you did,” Betty replied with a frown; “but none could as blame ya. He was on you like fleas on a dog one minute and scurried away like a rat the next.”
“What of the others?” Jane asked in mild curiosity.
“The fat gent, Hurst, was always either disguised or groping, so we kept watch and travelled in packs. The tall one looked fearsome but was proper polite. Always had a kind word anda coin for ya, never looking at anyone cross—aside from Miss Lizzy, of course. Them two sisters, mean as snakes in a sack, they were. Never pleased, always complainin’, not knowin’ a thing ’bout their own tasks.”
Jane laughed, though with a brittle edge, and thought for a few minutes. Betty seemed in no hurry to return and waited patiently. It was unseasonably warm for that time of year, so neither was in any great discomfort.
At length, Jane sighed. “I suppose they think they got away with it.”
“Seems so,” Betty said with a frown. It was far from the first time a so-called gentleman cheated her, and she reckoned it would not be the last, but it still stung. “They mostly do.”
For the first time since childhood, Jane felt a towering rage rising. “It need not be that way!”
“What’cha thinkin?” Betty asked curiously.
“Revenge!” Jane said, and Betty caught the first glimpse of a Miss Jane Bennet that mightnotbe all sweetness and light. She was glad of it—finally.
“Can I help?” she asked eagerly.
“Of course! I shall depend on you, if you are willing, that is.”
Betty was nearly skipping with anticipation, while Jane stood thinking for some time. “I am with you—and Justin too!”
“How much do you earn in a year?”
“If’n they pays me, ten pounds. If’n I work for the Bingleys, nothin!”
“As I thought. Lizzy once calculated it as half a shilling a day.”
“I suppose.”
Jane considered the matter further.
“I have an allowance of ten pounds a quarter, and my mother always gives me more because she expects my beauty to save her from the hedgerows. I have twelve pounds saved to work with.”
Betty nodded, not feeling any smarter than she had before, though she felt a twinge of resentment because she had to work hard all day every day to earn a quarter of what Jane Bennet made for doing absolutely nothing—but of course, she would never say anything of that kind. Jane had no more control over how the world worked than Betty did.
Jane thought aloud. “Twelve pounds is two hundred forty shillings. Do you think that would be enough to engage a dozen or two servants to do some dirty work for me? The first two pounds must go to you and Justin alone as the linchpins, so we would leave two hundred shillings for bribes.”
