“And I,” Mary said from the window seat.
“You could be the most charming candlestick ever to grace a parlour, Greyson,” Mr Bingley replied, “It would not persuade me to desert a wounded friend.”
“Nonsense! Off you go,” Mr Greyson insisted, seating himself. “IfMiss Elizabeth is content with my company, you can have no objection to leaving us alone.”
“You will not be alone,” Mary said indignantly. “I am here.”
Bingley promptly sat down. “There, it is decided. Miss Mary cannot be in two places at once, and it would be unthinkable for either of us to go unchaperoned. Let us all stay and keep Miss Elizabeth company together.”
Jane lowered herself back into her chair. Mr Bingley’s good humour was one of the things she most loved about him. Indeed, she would not wish him to behave in any less of a gentlemanlike manner. She told herself firmly, therefore, that she had no just cause to be alarmed by his gallantry towards Elizabeth.
“I received a letter from my cousin this morning,” Mr Bingley said, a short while into the visit. “He begs me again to go to Nova Scotia.”
Jane felt as unequal to discussing foreign places today as she had at the picnic and had no notion how she ought to respond. She glanced at Elizabeth, but she had returned to holding her compress to her temple and did not answer.
“Nova Scotia?” Mr Greyson said dubiously. “Why does he wish you to go there?”
“Well, his most recent idea is that I should build him a colliery.”
Mr Greyson looked intrigued. Jane attempted to mimic his expression. Elizabeth had closed her eyes.
“I shall have to pester Darcy for his insight on the matter,” Bingley mused. “He is the expert.”
“On the place or the industry?” Elizabeth enquired, at last roused to participate.
“Oh, the industry. He is quiteau faiton the subject of mines, his half of Derbyshire being quite overrun with the things. Though my cousin has provided me with a wealth of information about the place. He is all for me building my home and settling there.”
“And pray, areyou?” Elizabeth enquired.
“Lord, no!” he replied, to Jane’s profound relief. “Though he assures me it is a truly beautiful country and seems delighted with the society. He is braver than I. I should find it a good deal more daunting to be so far from home.”
“The unfamiliar is always daunting,” Elizabeth replied. “It does not follow that it cannot be agreeable. Indeed, it makes it more exciting.”
“I ought to have expectedyouwould not be intimidated by moving halfway across the world.”
“But the opportunity to go somewhere new, to see so many different things—is that not an appealing prospect?”
“Are you sure you are not working for my cousin?”
Despite all her efforts to be reasonable, Jane was vastly relieved when her father appeared and interrupted this cosy exchange.
“Lizzy, an express has arrived for you from Kent,” he announced, coming into the room and handing it to Elizabeth, who immediately paled. “Is it anything serious?”
“No,” Elizabeth replied after a cursory read. “Charlotte writes to see if I am well. Sir William has sent her news of my injury.” Despite this, she did not regain her colour and asked Mr Bennet to escort her upstairs, claiming her headache had worsened.
“Is she much troubled by these headaches?” Mr Greyson wished to know after she had gone.
“Is Mr Oates aware she suffers thus?” Mr Bingley enquired. “He ought to be informed.”
Jane patiently assured them the apothecary was pleased with Elizabeth’s improvement. Then she less patiently assured herself that it would have been impolite for Mr Bingleynotto express his concern, given Mr Greyson’s alarm. It was more difficult to excuse his departure moments later, mere minutes after Mr Greyson took his leave. Only the intimacy of their farewell allayed her growing anxiety.
Hunsford
29thMay
My dear Eliza,
I have urgent news, but first, allow me to express my sincerest condolences for what you have suffered and my vast relief that you have not taken lasting injury. I pray your convalescence is swift and beg you to take care.
