“You look troubled, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth started slightly. Margaret was in the music room practising her harp, while Elizabeth sat with the Wythes for a brief visit.
“My apologies, Mr and Mrs Wythe. I did not mean to disturb.”
“Oh, you do not disturb us.”
Elizabeth studied Mr Wythe, but he smiled and continued.
“Perhaps it would help to discuss what troubles you. Sometimes a trouble shared is a trouble halved.”
“I have a question, if you do not mind.”
“We never mind a question, dear. We may not answer, but usually a question hurts nothing.”
Elizabeth blew out a breath. “How can you trust me? You have known me less than twelve hours, yet you offered to take me on this wonderful journey with nary a backward glance.”
Mr Wythe asked, “Are you implying you are untrustworthy?”
Elizabeth looked ashamed. “No, but I have not told you everything.”
Mrs Wythe leaned across to take her hand. “Ah, but that is the question. Have you told us enough? I do not need to know more than you wish to share. It seems obvious you wish to avoid your home for a few weeks, but we believe there is no harm in you.”
Mr Wythe leaned forward. “Let us turn the problem over by posing a hypothetical. Suppose you had your own reasons to avoid your father’s house. Do you think you might be desperate enough to take a long journey with someone you judged untrustworthy?”
“Of course not. I would find another way.”
Mrs Wythe squeezed her hand, while Mr Wythe sipped his tea before continuing.
“And is your father likely to give you trouble after this journey?”
“Probably not. He usually trusts my judgement and dislikes interfering in his daughters’ affairs.”
She did not mention that she had no idea if he did so out of faith in their judgement or mere indolence.
“You are young and naturally trusting,” Mr Wythe continued. “You react to a thousand clues of which you are mostly unaware—as are most people. I wager it would take an Act of Parliament to make you change your first impression of our Margaret?”
“More like an Act of God.”
The Wythes laughed. “First impressions are dangerous, but most take them almost instantly and rarely change our minds. It is human nature. Some are blessed with the natural ability to judge better in that first moment, and some study for years to learn how, since it is a skill that can be learned like any other. It is important to know when to re-evaluate based on new information, and most are abominably bad at it, but if you pay attention, you can often rely on that first impression.”
Elizabeth regarded him with fascination.
“I am a businessman. A bad bargain, or even a good one made with a dishonest or greedy man could ruin me. I have made it my life's study to be able to make judgements, and I am rarely wrong. You are young and idealistic, I am old and pragmatic, yet we trust each other. We both came to the same conclusion. Is that not enough?”
Elizabeth smiled widely and released a breath she had unknowingly held. “More than enough. I thank you for your counsel. It is refreshing to receive good advice from people who are still alive and in the same room.”
The Wythes joined her laughter. Though they esteemed and trusted the young lady, they had no idea what that last phrase meant.
Gracechurch
My dear Jane,
I know not if this will make you feel better or worse, but I cannot contain the knowledge. Colonel Fitzwilliam told me it was Mr Darcy who convinced Mr Bingley to abandon you. I imagine his pernicious sisters had a hand in it, but the colonel assures me Mr Darcy was the principal architect. I plan to have a ‘headache’ this afternoon to avoid going to tea at Rosings, then I will either work out a way to avoid the hated man for another two days, or more likely invent an excuse to return to Gracechurch Street early. I do not know if I should tell you this in a letter or in person; or tell you at all for that matter; but I simply cannot hold it within anymore. Mr Bingley is a spineless worm, and Mr Darcy is either malevolent or misinformed, but at least now we know.
Jane Bennet’s relationship with her sister Elizabeth was different from that with everybody else. Whenever she receiveda letter, she imagined her sister sitting beside her, speaking. It did not particularly distress her that reading the letter brought Elizabeth’s voice, expressions, and impertinence to her mind so clearly she could almost smell her scent. Jane could perfectly well bear her sister’s ghost any time Elizabeth decided to join her. No other authors inspired that reaction, but she was always happy and comforted when she read one of her sister’s letters. At least she had been until this one! It, on the other hand did not improve her mood in the least!
It culminated months of suspicion, speculation, and heartbreak. There was ever so much more in the letter, yet that one paragraph stuck in her mind, like Lizzy sitting and repeating it over and over, though it was not as distressing as it might have seemed. To have the final confirmation was, in the end, something of a relief, and she was surprisingly less heartbroken than she had been.There was something to be said for finality.
