All three sisters laughed together, their shared mirth enlivening the room.
Jane then turned to Elizabeth with a more subdued smile. She looked angelic, even in her night gown, with her plait falling over one shoulder. “Do you suppose your gentleman will soon declare himself?”
Elizabeth brushed the pearl pendant with her fingers. “There are still two days until Twelfth Night. I feel certain he will wait until then.” She had given Darcy an opportunity to speak the previous day, had she not?But what if it is not him? No—she could not believe it. It must be him. Her heart was already his.
With care, she clasped the chain about her neck. The pendant nestled just below the edge of her bodice; fit for day wear, not ostentatious, merely elegant. She tucked it out of sight, as she had with the other tokens. This secret—her desires—were not yet ready for the scrutiny of the drawing room. Lydia and Kitty would be sure to spy it at once. Their exclamations woulddemand an explanation, and Mrs. Bennet would join them, demanding to have her curiosity satisfied.
Jane and Mary excused themselves to their chambers to dress. Before long, the three sisters descended to breakfast together. The fragrance of tea and toasted bread greeted them, along with the warmth of the fire. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet were already seated at the table, while Kitty and Lydia, unsurprisingly, had not yet appeared.
Mr. Bennet looked up from his paper. “Good morning, my dears.” His paper rustled as he turned a page. “In consideration of your mother's nerves, I have an announcement. We are to expect Mr. Collins on Wednesday, the seventh. He will remain at Longbourn until his marriage to Miss Lucas on the ninth.”
Mrs. Bennet dropped her spoon with a clatter. “He cannot come here! No, I shall not host the man who will throw us all into the hedgerows the instant you perish!” Her hands fluttered, and she fumbled with her napkin, pressing it to her lips. “You cannot ask it of me, sir. Such a trial I shall not allow my poor nerves to suffer! That gentleman has no place within the walls of this house!”
Elizabeth winced. Jane reached for their mother’s hand and spoke soothingly. “Mama, please. I am to be married to a good man who would never see you without a home.” The calm words did little to ease their mother's agitation.
Mrs. Bennet sniffled. “It would not be such a concern if Elizabeth had been a dutiful daughter and accepted Mr. Collins’s offer when she had the chance.” She dropped her napkin and raised her cup to take a sip of tea. “Willful, foolish girl! How could you? To throw away a chance at being the mistress of Longbourn? How ill you use me, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together, forcing herself to not to retort. Her hands rested motionless in her lap, though she itched to clench them. She would not quarrel. Not to-day.I thought wehad moved beyond this,she reflected. Her mother's tirades had abated once Mr. Bingley had returned.
Never mind. Had I accepted Mr. Collins,I would never have known this…this wonder…this serene joy.
She looked down at the pendant kept secret beneath her gown. Her admirer—herDarcy, she dared to believe—loved her. That truth, however privately cherished, soothed the sting of her mother’s reproaches. She toyed with her eggs, took a sip of tea, and nibbled at the corner of a slice of toast. Across the table, Jane, ever the peacemaker, smiled sweetly at their mother.
“Mr. Bingley is to call soon, Mama, to speak with Papa about wedding arrangements.” Jane's diversion was subtle, and to Elizabeth’s relief, they worked.
Mrs. Bennet brightened at once. “Oh! Then we must begin planning in earnest! I have already decided that lace shall adorn the sleeves of your gown: floral lace, and a scalloped edge…”
“No lace, Mrs. Bennet, I beg you,” Mr. Bennet said dryly. “Allow me to eat my breakfast in peace before the wedding madness begins.”
Mrs. Bennet cast him a knowing glance and laughed. “You are a tease, Mr. Bennet! What better time to speak of such matters than over breakfast?”
Elizabeth sipped her tea and allowed her thoughts to wander.Perhaps Darcy will accompany Mr. Bingley.She pictured him arriving, hat in hand, eyes seeking hers. Her fingers strayed to the chain about her neck.
Just then, Lydia and Kitty flounced into the room, all bustle and complaints.
“Mama,” Lydia cried, “I must have extra pin money. I have seen a new bonnet in Meryton—light green silk with velvet trim. It will make me the envy of every girl at the Twelfth Night ball!”
Kitty tossed her head. “She does not need a new bonnet! She bought one but last week. The pin money ought to be mine; I saw gloves Itrulyrequire.”
Mr. Bennet rose, laying his napkin on the table with studied calm. “I find I have an urgent need for solitude. Good day to you all.”
He departed with his customary flair for theatrical exits, leaving behind a chorus of laughter, protest, and clinking china.
Elizabeth smiled into her teacup. The morning had been absurd, familiar, vexing, and yet she was content. Her thoughts drifted once more to Darcy. Soon, very soon, she might learn the truth at last.
Two more days.And her life, she knew, would never be the same.
The morning wore on with a restless kind of anticipation, each tick of the longcase clock in the hall tightening the expectancy in Elizabeth’s breast. She would not name the emotion—could not—but her eyes strayed more than once to the window that looked upon the lane.
When the sound of carriage wheels reached her ears, she feigned indifference. She lifted her embroidery, long neglected in her lap, and deliberately set a few stitches.
Mrs. Bennet did not attempt pretense, but nearly upset her sewing basket as she leaped up. “Mr. Bingley’s carriage! Oh, Jane, you knew exactly how it would be! What a devoted suitor! He calls upon you endlessly.”
Jane’s blush was immediate, though her composure remained unshaken. Elizabeth bent her head over her embroidery to hidea smile. Mary smoothed her collar. Lydia and Kitty, of course, scrambled for places at the windows like a pair of unruly puppies.
Moments later, the drawing-room door opened to admit Hill. “Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, ma’am.”
The gentlemen entered, and Elizabeth felt more than saw Darcy’s eyes seek hers at once. She glanced up and was caught.
