“A visit from her mother would no doubt have helped,” Mr Gardiner grumbled.
“Edward…” his wife said warningly.
“Well! What was she thinking, crying off in this manner? Barring Lizzy’s brief visit earlier this week, she has not seen any of her family since before Christmas. She knows Jane has received a painful blow. I cannot fathom the reasoning that has her placing a greater importance on her friend’s comfort than her own daughter’s.”
“Be fair,” Mrs Gardiner replied. “She does not know that Jane is in quite such low spirits.”
“She would, if she had troubled herself to spend any time with her.”
Elizabeth let them argue the point and did not add to the conversation that she had explicitly told her mother about Jane’s bleak humour when she visited Henrietta Street. Increasingly conscious of her father’s plea to conceal all trace of difficulty in his marriage—and aware that Mrs Gardiner already suspected something was up—she was growing ever more careful with her censure of Mrs Bennet.
That did not mean she was not critical. Far from it. She had, just that morning, received a letter from her father, despairing of her being a ‘far worse correspondent than her mother’. It seemed Mrs Bennet had not written as she had promised to do,Mr Bennet was in no way reassured, and Elizabeth had more cause to be alarmed by her mother’s behaviour than ever.
“You might take it as a compliment,” Mrs Gardiner said. “This shows her faith in our ability to comfort Jane in her stead.”
“You are generous, my dear, but as her brother, I am not afraid to speak truth to her character. She is being absurd and inconsiderate. I have a mind to visit her myself and tell her so.”
Elizabeth shifted in her seat, alarmed at the thought of Mr Gardiner discovering first hand that his sister’s excuses for leaving home were tenuous at best. The least she could do for her father was to spare him that indignity.
“Is that advisable?” she asked. “Even if Mrs Randall is not seriously indisposed, she might not appreciate a strange gentleman calling and questioning her need to be indulged. Pray, allow me to go again. I shall make sure Mama knows we were disappointed not to see her tonight.”
Mrs Gardiner caught Elizabeth’s eye and gave her a small nod before saying to her husband, “That is probably for the best, Edward. No matter how vexed you may be with Frances, you would not like to cause any strife between her and her friend.”
Mr Gardiner looked sulkily between them before conceding that they might be right. That did not prevent him from continuing to lambast his sister for her selfishness as they quit the dining room and removed to the parlour, only desisting when Jane eventually rejoined them.
7
A FRUITLESS SEARCH
“Out? Again?” Elizabeth stared indignantly at Mrs Randall’s maid. “Where is she this time?”
“Rotten Row.”
“Excuse me?”
“Hyde Park.”
“I—sorry, I know where it is. I was just wondering at her purpose in going there at this hour. Or at all!”
The maid shrugged. “They said they wanted to see the gentlemen exercising their horses.”
“Mrs Randall has gone with her?”
“Aye.”
Elizabeth let out an incredulous huff of laughter. “She was having a good day today, was she?”
The maid wrinkled her nose in confusion. “She weren’t having a bad day, as far as I know.”
“No. I imagine she rarely does.”
“If that’s all, ma’am?” The maid barely waited to be dismissed before retreating into the house.
Elizabeth turned to her uncle’s coachman. “Well, Benjamin. How do you feel about a diversion to Hyde Park?”
He was too kind to refuse, though she could see he disliked the idea—and no wonder, for when they arrived, he was faced with an unpleasant choice between leaving either his master’s carriage and horses or his master’s niece unattended.
“Pray, do not concern yourself,” Elizabeth said. “I shall not wander far. I only wish to linger for a little while in case my mother should walk this way. It is probably a futile endeavour, but pray, humour me.”
