Elizabeth smiled, though a faint unease tingled at the back of her neck. Aunt Philips never rushed anywhere unless there was gossip to be spilled.
She found her aunt in the front hall, fanning herself and talking at such speed one could hardly follow the conversation.
“—and it is let at last! Let at last, my dear! And by ayoung man! With five thousand a year! Just think of it, Jane!”
Elizabeth blinked. “Netherfield?”
“Yes, Netherfield!” Mrs Philips cried. “A Mr Bingley—just arrived from the north with an income to make even Lady Lucas stammer. Your uncle heard it at the inn this very morning. And he is not married!”
Elizabeth fought the urge to roll her eyes. “And what does that mean to us, exactly?”
“It means,” Mrs Philips said pointedly, “that your father must call at once! Imagine what your mother would say—Jane must be introduced immediately!”
Elizabeth, before replying, glanced in the direction of the open study door where Mr Bennet sat, as always, buried in his book. Her aunt noticed the direction of her gaze and swept towards the door like a gust of wind.
“Mr Bennet!” she called. “You must go. Youmust. It would be madness to delay.”
Mr Bennet, without looking up, calmly turned a page. “And why must I be the first to call upon a man I have never met, who happens to rent a house a few miles off?”
“Because,” she insisted, breathless, “my sister would have gone herself if she could! She would havecamped upon the roadto be first in line!”
Mr Bennet gave a long-suffering sigh. “My dear sister, rest assured—I shall wait until this Mr Bingley has unpacked his trunks, ordered his tea, and discovered how odious his neighbours are before I go thrusting daughters at him.”
Elizabeth bit her lip to stifle a grin.
“If the man,” he added, glancing at Elizabeth now, “wishes to court one of my daughters who areout, he will find no impediment. But I will call upon him at myleisure.”
Mrs Philips sputtered. “But the Lucases will go as soon as he arrives!”
“Then I shall go the day after,” he replied smoothly.
Elizabeth slipped from the room, laughter trailing her steps. By the time she returned to the meadow, the butterfly had flown, Lydia was back to reading aloud in French, and Thomas was asleep with his head in her lap.
Elizabeth sat beside them and whispered, “Netherfield is let.”
Lydia’s eyes lit with intrigue. “Is he handsome?”
She rolled her eyes. “We have not met him yet.”
“But we shall,” Lydia said withabsolute certainty.
And Elizabeth, though she would never admit it aloud, suspected that was true.Mama is, perhaps, smiling down upon us.It was a comforting, pleasant thought.
Chapter Twelve
Mrs Philips did not cease her badgering. Every bit of news that came from Netherfield Park was immediately conveyed to the ladies at Longbourn.
“He is to invite six ladies and twelve gentlemen!” she said as she partook of tea one afternoon. “And my maid says the cook ordered a haunch of pork!”
“He favours blue!” she said another day.
“How could anyone possibly know if he favours blue?” Lydia burst out when her aunt brought the latest news. “The gentleman is not in residence yet!” She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, I love gossip as much as the next young lady, but this is utterly ridiculous!” She stabbed her needle into the handkerchief she held in her hand.
“Very sensible, Lydia,” Jane said approvingly. Lydia beamed at the praise.
“Your flippancy will be the ruin of you!” Mrs Philips folded her arms crossly. “Your dear mother would have been adamant that you meet Mr Bingley as expeditiously as possible. Jane, dear, can you not encourage your father to call upon the new neighbour?”
Jane smiled placatingly. “I shall do all I can, Aunt. My father will do his duty, I assure you. Besides, the gentleman has yet to arrive. We have time yet to convince my father.”
