“Mrs. Bennet, I remind you of two important points. The first is that your daughter and her beau wish to be married before the turn of the century—thus, I adjure you to take pity on us all and plan a wedding to take place before the end of summer. The second is that we do not possess unlimited resources, and the future employment of a companion for our youngest daughters will further tax our means. Please, I beg you, do not pauper us in the process of celebrating Jane’s fete.”
While Kitty and Lydia appeared glum at the reminder, Mrs. Bennet shot her husband a censorious look. “I have no intention of beggaring us, Mr. Bennet. But we cannot plan these things quickly. Christmas would be best.”
“No, Mama,” said Jane, contradicting her mother on one of the few occasions Elizabeth could remember. “Charles and I wish to be married before the end of summer.”
Mrs. Bennet gasped. “That is not possible, Jane. Why, the flowers! The trousseau! There are hundreds of other details we must decide. And what will the neighbors think?”
“They will think it is about time,” said Mr. Bennet, “given the dance of courtship in which they engaged almost a year ago. You would not wish to try the groom’s patience by making him wait so long, would you?”
That was not the end of the matter, for Mrs. Bennet was stubborn. The implied threat, however, ultimately convinced her, for in Mrs. Bennet’s mind, the need to celebrate with the appropriate fervor paled in comparison with the absolute necessity of securing the family’s future. Thus, they resolved on the end of August.
“Your father seems to have a way about him.”
Pulled from her reminiscences, Elizabeth turned to the gentleman by her side, noting his attention was fixed on Jane and Mr. Bingley. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley had come that morning to visit, promising their families would follow them soon, their eagerness to be in the company of Longbourn’s two eldest daughters unmistakable.
“That is one way to put it,” replied Elizabeth. “Do you mean anything in particular?”
Mr. Darcy grinned, a sight that was becoming far more common and quite became him. “When we returned to Netherfield yesterday, Bingley confided that he never wished to provoke your father’s displeasure. It seems Mr. Bennet put thefear of God into him during the interview in which he petitioned for her hand.”
Elizabeth put a hand over her mouth, noting that Jane’s regard was on her, no doubt understanding the subject of their conversation. Jane’s eyes darted to Mr. Bingley, then to her father, and when they returned to Elizabeth, she gave a little glance heavenward. It was a bit of impish humor in which Jane rarely indulged; that she did so now displayed her unqualified happiness.
“I see your sister knows of it,” observed Mr. Darcy, having witnessed the exchange.
“Papa teased her on the subject,” replied Elizabeth. “Papa sees it as his duty to ensure that a man suing for the pleasure of his daughters’ hands would emerge from the experience changed.”
“Given how green Bingley looked yesterday,” said Mr. Darcy, “I cannot say he failed. Bingley could tell me little, for he did not wish to recall it. That is unfortunate, for the information would have been invaluable.”
Elizabeth turned to the gentleman and regarded him, showing him a hint of skepticism. “I am uncertain what you mean, sir. How could it affect you?”
“For no reason, I suppose,” said Mr. Darcy. “As I am older and possess more natural confidence, I cannot think your father’s displeasure will cause me nearly so much distress.”
“For a man who has no agreement with a woman,” said Elizabeth, “you appear rather confident.”
“Confidence, Miss Elizabeth, is a quality much to be prized when a man must deal with a woman of your character.”
Elizabeth regarded him critically, but before she could muster a response, the rest of Mr. Darcy’s party arrived as they had promised. Elizabeth shot the gentleman a look that should inform him the conversation was not over and turned to greet her friends. Anne and Colonel Fitzwilliam came to them at once,exclaiming their pleasure, while Georgiana said a quick hello and turned her attention to the younger Bennets. The attention of the room, however, was fixed upon the Bingley sisters, who approached Jane and Mr. Bingley at once.
“My dear Jane!” exclaimed Miss Bingley in a manner reminiscent of her insincere overtures the previous year. “How wonderful it is to see you! Charles told us the good news—we could not come quickly enough to offer our felicitations and state our eagerness to have you as a sister.”
While Miss Bingley served as the voice of the two sisters, Mrs. Hurst stepped close and offered her quiet congratulations. Unless Elizabeth missed her guess, the latter offered her compliments with more genuine pleasure and sincerity than the former, though Miss Bingley gave every appearance of delight.
Jane accepted their congratulations with the reserve that was so essential a part of her character, and to all the world appeared brimming with pleasure. Elizabeth saw, however, that while Jane was happy as she could be, there was an additional measure of reserve in her thanks to the sisters. Only those intimately acquainted with Jane could have seen it—Elizabeth was certain neither sister understood her hesitation.
“What is it, Miss Elizabeth?” said Mr. Darcy when Elizabeth chuckled quietly.
“I am surprised you cannot see it, Cousin,” said Anne, proving her perceptive nature. “I understand what happened between them last year imperfectly, but even I can see Miss Bennet greeted their best wishes with more reserve than usual.”
“Anne is correct,” said Elizabeth, throwing a smile at her friend. “Jane is the dearest and most forgiving soul in the world, but her experiences, especially with Miss Bingley, altered her perceptions of the ladies. They will need to prove themselves to her before she will allow anything more than the most basic intimacy.”
“As Bingley informed them himself,” said Mr. Darcy with a satisfied nod.
Elizabeth nodded but peered at the gentleman with some interest. “What of Miss Bingley’s ambitions toward you?”
The gentleman shrugged. “I can say nothing of her thoughts, of course, but of late she has been downright easy to tolerate.”
“Oh?”
“She is silent more often than not,” said Mr. Darcy. “I have heard nothing of her opinions of you, her constant desire to recommend herself to me, and Georgiana reports that her efforts to praise and ingratiate herself into her confidence are a thing of the past.”
