With only an hour left until dinner, everyone had retired to change. However, Mrs Gardiner, with a discreet gesture, had asked her younger niece to stay behind, and Elizabeth, suppressing a smile, remained seated on the sofa. In the past, she would have hurried to Jane’s room to share her thoughts andnews from home, but unfortunately, her aunt was right—Jane had become a lady consumed by regret and suffering, with but one subject occupying her mind: Mr Bingley.
“I swear I have tried everything that came to mind,” Mrs Gardiner said unnecessarily in her own defence. “We have been to the theatre and the opera, we have been shopping almost every other day, we have accepted invitations to dinner, walks from our friends, and rides in Hyde Park, yet nothing has worked.”
Elizabeth reached out and gently squeezed her aunt’s hand.
“Believe me, I understand. Before Jane left for London, I had begun to spend my days in the library with my father, for it was the only place where the subject of Mr Bingley would not arise,” Elizabeth reassured her aunt, her understanding shining through her words.
“But that is not what I wish to discuss,” said Mrs Gardiner, her mood shifting instantly. “I want a sincere answer from you before I tell you something that recently happened to me.”
Elizabeth looked at her in surprise, faintly apprehensive, but her aunt’s face had regained its usual calm, a sign that whatever she was about to share was at least not distressing.
“You know well that I am always honest,” Elizabeth replied.
“It is not honesty in general that I ask for but your earnest opinion of me.”
“What?” Elizabeth asked, bewildered. “What do you mean, my opinion of you? I think you are a remarkable woman who lives her life as a devoted wife and mother while still allowing herself a measure of freedom and independence that many other women do not know how to claim—”
“Or cannot claim. Do not forget that your uncle is an exceptional man who grants me this life.”
Elizabeth reflected upon her aunt’s words. Most men saw women as little more than housekeepers and mothers of their children.
“Then one must know how to choose one’s husband wisely,” Elizabeth said at last.
“Or be fortunate, as I have been. My story begins with Mr Gardiner. In these last few years, perhaps two or three, our lives have changed considerably. We have gone from being a well-to-do family to being quite wealthy.”
Elizabeth heard the hesitation in her aunt’s voice. It was not in her nature to boast of such things; this revelation had a deeper purpose.
“Lizzy, do you think I could change for the worse because of our new financial status? That I might become a woman like…Mr Bingley’s sisters?” There was such palpable anxiety in her aunt’s voice that Elizabeth burst into laughter.
“Heavens, Aunt! What a foolish notion. How could you ever become like those women? You are warm towards everyone, attentive to all those around you, and always ready to listen or help, not only within your own family. Those women are the embodiment ofparvenuswho have forgotten where they came from, see only where they wish to go, and scorn both their former lives and the people in them.”
“They are dreadful, indeed,” murmured Mrs Gardiner. “At first, I did not wish to believe what you wrote. I gave them the benefit of the doubt, but how they have treated Jane lately is dreadful. And she does not see it.”
“I believe she has begun to understand. In her last letter, she seemed to acknowledge that those women never genuinely liked her. While firmly opposed to her marrying their brother,they played a traitorous game feigning friendship only to control Jane’s access to Mr Bingley.”
“Thank heavens Jane is also beginning to see the reality,” said Mrs Gardiner. “It pains me to speak ill of anyone.”
Elizabeth laughed again. “See? That is who you are. Even when faced with two women who so clearly seek only to advance themselves, who would trample over anyone in their path, you still cannot bring yourself to be unkind to them. I, on the other hand, am different. I cannot help but speak the truth when I see ugliness or cruelty.”
“That is why I need you now. I do not know how Mr Bingley’s sisters feel, but I must confess…I, too, would like to meet new people.”
Her final words were spoken so softly that Elizabeth barely heard them, and the slight trepidation in her voice was proof of her uncertainty.
“Well, that is only natural. One can wish to broaden one’s social circle without looking down upon those in the circle from which one has come.”
“I shall always cherish my friends here, but we are considering moving to another neighbourhood. To meet new people, as I said.”
“Excellent!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “I see nothing wrong with that. Aspiring to something different is perfectly natural.”
“So you find no fault in my desire?”
“None whatsoever. Even I feel uncomfortable in Meryton at times. The older ladies, my mother’s contemporaries, speak only of household affairs and their children’s marriages. At the same time, young people of my own age have so few and such trivial topics of interest that I often feel I am wasting my time spending hours with them. Let me be entirely honest. Although the guests at Netherfield behaved abominably towards us—not only towards Jane, but towards all of us—constantly displayingthat irksome air of superiority, and in the end, openly scorning our way of life, nevertheless…”
“Nevertheless?” prompted Mrs Gardiner, her voice taut with curiosity.
“Nevertheless, I appreciated those two months in which Netherfield was occupied by Mr Bingley’s family and by…Mr Darcy.”
And it was now Elizabeth’s turn to hesitate when adding that name.
