The very next morning, Mr Bingley’s chaise was ordered for Elizabeth and Jane’s departure.
“We shall visit this afternoon,” Darcy said, bowing over the hand of his bride-to-be.
“Oh, but…” Jane hesitated; then, at the approach of Mr Bingley’s sisters, spoke quickly. “You must say nothing at Longbourn, not give any hint of your betrothal. It is not…it is a not a secret-keeping household.” Her cheeks were pink as she said it, but her chin was high.
There was no time for reply, the arrival of Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley intruding. As they gave the friendliest of farewells, Elizabeth could not see anything of Miss Bingley’s former animosity—indeed, she was excessively kind. Naturally it was all a pretence, but at least civility reigned.
Mr Bingley stepped forward as if to assist Jane into the carriage, but Darcy was before him and did it himself. He turned to face Elizabeth. “It will be a lengthy few weeks.”
“Yes,” she agreed, unable to say any of what was in herheart before this audience. She allowed him to help her into the carriage. He squeezed her hand for an extra moment, then stepped back, shutting the door. Moments later, the sisters were on their way to Longbourn.
She glanced over at Jane, who appeared serene. But then, she usually did. “Will it be hard for you to return home?” she asked.
“Hard? No. It has been a respite from Mama, but I shall be glad to be home.”
“Only from Mama?”
Jane did not pretend to misunderstand. “William loves me,” she said. “My wishes are his wishes. Perhaps he is not a man who inspires a grand passion, but frankly…” She twisted to face her sister on the seat. “I am pleased, Lizzy, more than I can say, that you have found yours. But Mr Darcy terrifies me. I would never have been attracted to him.”
Elizabeth wondered if she should say any more, but decided that she might as well see whether Jane meant for them to share their former closeness. “I did not believe you would be. Rather, I was thinking of Mr Bingley.”
Eyes widening, Jane let out a surprised gasp. “You surely did not believe any of the twaddle that Mama was spouting, did you?”
“Not at all, dear. Nor did I see you do or say anything to encourage him. I only wondered if you might resent me, a little bit, that I was allowed to make a new choice for myself when you were never given any such opportunity.”
Jane’s features eased, and she reached over and patted Elizabeth’s hand. “Mr Bingley is a fine man, and I am sure he will make someone an excellent husband one day. But he seems so young to me, so childish.”
“Childish? He is near your own age, I think. You are very youthful yourself, dear sister.”
“Thank you,” Jane said, smiling a little wistfully. “But I feel a vast difference between us. Perhaps because I have buried a child. William nearly drove me to distraction during my recovery—he cannot stand for me to feel illness or pain of any kind. Still, he insisted our son have a proper burial, although the babe never took a breath. He allowed no one else to dig the grave, right next to Papa’s, and planted an exquisite array of roses around them both, which he diligently cares for himself. He mourned with me then, he always wants the best for me, and I am…I feelcomfortablewith him, even if he does, at times, prefer roses to people. You have always been brave, so I do not suppose it makes much sense to you.”
Brave? Me? I have spent a great deal of time living in sheer terror.But it made an odd kind of sense—Janeneededher world to function by certain immutable rules. It was doubtless another reason why she had felt entitled to choose Mr Collins in the first place; she had firmly believed in her privilege as eldest daughter, true, but also that Elizabeth possessed the courage to marry Mr Ashwood, as she did not. To her, it must have seemed…only logical. Did that make Elizabeth’s mostly unacknowledged hurt that Jane had not really cared whethershehad any choice at all in marriage, any better?
Curiously, for some unfathomable reason, it did. She was long past ready to let it all go. As Mr Darcy had reminded, Jane would always have the security of Longbourn; Elizabeth would have something much better. One only learnt to do without safety—and thus acquire courage—when deprived of it.
“It makes sense to me,” she replied. “Also, you need never rhapsodise over snuff boxes. I should prefer discussing roses any day over those.”
“Those awful snuff boxes!” Jane laughed, shaking her head. With more seriousness, she added, “William and I care deeply for each other, and I am content that all is as it should be.” But then she grinned. “If only Mama would behave a little better, it would be a very good life indeed.”
Elizabeth could not smile back. “I cannot and will not stand idly by, Jane, if she abuses me or you, either one of us. I am unable to remain mute as she allows Lydia to run wild, while criticising my every word. If I stand up to her, do you think Mr Collins would be angry? I think she must be made to understand that she cannot go on as she has been.”
Jane quickly sobered. “I have vowed that she must, especially where you are concerned. It is only that…when William first came to Longbourn, he very much looked to Papa for approval in every aspect of conduct. His own parents cared little about him—he was mostly raised by others, and I believe he was looking for a-a model of exemplary behaviour after which to…to form his adult character. Of course, dear Papa knew he did not have long, and was deeply worried over the fate of Mama and all of his daughters. Mama was still a shadow of herself then, if you recall.”
Elizabeth knew this to be true. She had visited often, and had seen for herself Papa’s softened manner, her mother’s listlessness. Even, she had listened to him lecture Mr Collins as to how he was to treat the females of the household—preaching a standard which he, himself, had never been known to follow. “Mr Collins could have chosen far worse for his model,” she said softly.
“Except in monetary matters, William has never exerted much authority over any of us.”
“I daresay, to please you, he might begin,” Elizabeth suggested. “What if we were to form a campaign? Lydia requires someone to take her in hand, and Mama has grown insufferable. The only female your husband need gratify is you, and I am certain you can help him understand that if I challenge her, and you side with me, he ought to support us both.”
Elizabeth noticed Jane placing a shielding hand over her middle “Oh, Lizzy, I have never been any good at opposing her. But I do mean to try. I promise.”
“Well,” Elizabeth declared, “I, for one, am ready to exorcise all the power of my overbearing, power-hungry soul upon the problem.”
Jane looked taken aback in mild astonishment at this open mockery of Fanny Ashwood’s opinions, which she herself had once parroted; then she covered her mouth as a giggle emerged. Elizabeth joined in. The sisters were still laughing as the carriage turned up Longbourn’s drive.
29
JANE DISCOVERS HER SPINE
