Jane drew herself straight, took in a great and cleansing breath, and stood. “Very well, then.”
They got to the doorway of the drawing room before Jane’s courage failed her, and her head dropped as though the cords of her neck had been severed. Arm in arm with her sister, she felt herself led through the doorway, and heard several chairs slide backward. When Elizabeth curtseyed, so did she, but she could not look at them, not at all.
Footsteps approached. “Miss Bennet!” Mr Bingley declared, cheerful and far too close. “How delighted we all are to see you up and about again!”
She murmured her thanks towards the tips of her shoes, and an uncomfortable silence fell.
“Miss Bennet?” Mr Bingley tried again, his tone now soft and full of concern. “Will you not look at me?”
Jane felt herself entirely paralysed save for the tears welling in her eyes. She could not do this! Her sister reclaimed her arm and wordlessly conveyed support. She flinched as a male hand reached for her scarred face, coming up under her chin to gently lift it into his view, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Miss Bennet…please, look at me.”
She opened her eyes to find Mr Bingley’s green gaze locked on hers, with no hint of pity or disgust marring his expression. Instead, he appeared…happy? Vaguely, she registered Louisa hovering at his left hand.
“Allow me to tell you, Miss Bennet, how deeply and profoundly delighted I am to see you returned to health. Although I have enjoyed our correspondence—” Louisa stifled a gasp “—to have you here to converse with is infinitely preferable. I have missed your company and conversation.”
Elizabeth slipped her arm out of Jane’s and moved to Louisa’s side, redirecting her towards the sideboard with a request for sherry so that Jane and Mr Bingley might speak more privately. The captain and Darcy had also moved in that direction.
“You still wish to speak with me?” Jane asked, wonderingly.
“Of course I do. There is no one in the world I would rather speak with, now or at any other time. I hope to speak with you very often, and for the rest of my life,” he concluded with no little daring.
Hope uncoiled within her breast, but a lifetime of being told in many ways, both subtle and overt, that her beauty was her only asset made it difficult for her to allow it free rein. “Mr Bingley, sir…I hope you know I do not consider your honour to have been engaged by the notes you so kindly sent while I was ill.”
“If you will call it kindness, then call it kindness towards myself, for I could not bear to entirely lose your company even though I could not see you.” He touched her hand, briefly. “As for my honour, well, we are both of us in mourning now, but when it is acceptable to do so, I truly hope to engage my honour and the rest of myself to you, Miss Bennet.”
Tears pricked her eyes once more. “You do not mind that I am so terribly scarred?”
“Mind?” he replied in a tone of startlement. “I mind that you have suffered, and that you have feared the results of your suffering would alter my sentiments. But you are, and always shall be, my angel. I would never cast you aside for something so trifling as a few marks, and I beg you would not reject me because of them.” His tone, his expression, everything spoke to his sincerity, and the earnest affection in his eyes could not be mistaken. “May I call upon you when we have left our deep mourning, Miss Bennet, and stand as your friend until then?”
The threatening tears fell at last, onto a face that was now smiling. “Sir, I can think of nothing I should like better.”
Jane’s smile, and Bingley’s answering one, prompted the others to join them just in time for dinner to be announced. Mr Bingley offered his arm to Jane, Captain Carter his to Elizabeth, and Mr Darcy escorted Mrs Hurst.
* * *
In the drawing room after the meal, the company split into pairs. The captain drew the widow into a game of cards, Bingley and Jane continued their conversation from the dinner table, and Darcy found himself in the intoxicating position of having most of Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s attention, though she did keep an eye on her sister.
“May I ask what news Miss Mary had for you today?” he enquired.
“Only good news, I am happy to say,” she answered. “Lydia continues to improve, if too slowly for anyone’s liking. My father is eager to have us home now that Jane is up and about again, but Mr Jones wishes that she should gain strength for a few days more before venturing out in the cold, and so we must impose upon Mr Bingley a little longer.”
“I believe I speak for everyone at Netherfield when I say that you and your sister will be much missed here when you go home. You must be very happy to know that Miss Lydia is out of danger, and to see Miss Bennet so recovered,” he remarked, a comment which gained him one of her radiant smiles.
“Oh, yes. And happier still to see Jane restored to the company she prefers above all,” she replied with a slight inclination of her head towards the couple by the fire, where Bingley was fussing over the position of the screen, attempting to direct even more of the warmth towards Jane.
Darcy regarded them contemplatively. “Your sister is an excellent woman. The tenants of Longbourn have been most fervent in her praise, and the esteem in which you hold her must of course influence anyone in her favour. I believe there is little doubt as to the course of her future, and I cannot imagine that they shall know anything but felicity together.”
“They are well matched,” she agreed. “I will admit in confidence that I was not at all sure what to expect of Mr Bingley when he saw her again. I hoped that he would act as he has, but feared he would not be able to look past the changes in her. I hope this does not offend you; I cannot claim to know him so well as you.”
“When Miss Bennet first fell ill, and Bingley expressed an intention of continuing to pursue her when she recovered, I feared the same,” he confessed. “But he has remained steadfast, and of everyone assembled in the room when you and she entered this evening, I believe he was the least anxious about what was imminent.”
“Jane has alwaysdeserveda man who valued her essentials more than her appearance, but with such great beauty it always seemed unlikely that she would find one. I see you are confused. I mean that such beauty must attract those who prize beauty, and I have always wondered whether she would be able to find a man who would still value her when age and childbearing had taken their toll. Those of us who are merely tolerable,” she continued with a sly grin, “have at least the advantage of knowing, should we receive an offer, that we are desired for more than our youthful bloom.”
He could not be anything but amused at her jest, for her impudence robbed it of any possible sting. “I understand. For my own part, it has always seemed unlikely that I might be able to marry a woman who saw more in me than wealth and connexions, but I have dared to hope for better. Perhaps I shall be as fortunate as your sister, in time.”
“I hope you shall. Just be sure, sir, that you value her as you wish to be valued,” she cautioned lightly. “You cannot expect a lady to see your essential self if all you see are her appearance, dowry, and lineage.”
