Later, when she was seated before the fire, fanning her loosened hair to hasten its drying, a light knock sounded at the door.
“Come in.”
Jane entered, and Elizabeth regarded her with admiration.
“You look exceedingly handsome, Jane, even in that severe black bombazine.”
Jane laughed gleefully. “Mr. Bingley assures me that it only serves to heighten the fairness of my complexion and makes my ‘classical beauty more striking.’”
Elizabeth smiled. “How enviable to possess such a champion. In his eyes, nothing can be amiss.”
Jane’s expression grew thoughtful. “If Mr. Bingley has a failing, it lies in his indulgence of his sister. I cannot help but fear that she may yet seek to place herself between us.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I do not perceive how she might succeed. She concealed his letter, yet even that did not divide you. He has now established himself at Netherfield and makes no secret of his attentions. What power remains to her?”
“Perhaps none, but she does not esteem either of us Bennet sisters. Charles confided that she described you to Mr. Darcy in such a manner that, had he not seen you himself, he might have supposed you near death. I know it sprang from resentment and a wish to diminish you in that gentleman’s regard, nor is she inclined to favor Mr. Bingley’s connection to me.”
“You must weaken her influence and strengthen your own by your conduct. Do you continue to offer him encouragement?”
“I do. I endeavor to meet his eye when he addresses me and to return his smile. I am careful not to lower my gaze or look aside as I once did with former admirers.”
Elizabeth gave her a knowing look. “Mr. Bingley has already purchased a house with you in mind. Pray, give him more encouragement, not less.” Elizabeth paused to consider. “I know you cannot wear anything pretty or alluring, but with the smallest attentions you may signal that you are pleased with him and do not find him disagreeable.”
Jane’s eyes widened. “Little attentions? Lizzy, I never…”
“I do not mean that you should drape yourself about him as Caroline does Mr. Darcy.” A spark of indignation rose within her breast at the liberties she had witnessed Miss Bingley take. “I speak only of the lightest civility. A gentle brush of fingers whenhe greets you and takes your hand. When he offers his arm, perhaps the faintest pressure at first contact. Nothing improper or bold. Only those innocent touches that show you are at ease in his company, that you like to be near him, and would not object to greater intimacy in time.”
Jane considered her sister’s advice in silence. When at last she looked up, there was no smile upon her face.
“What is it, dear? You appear distressed.”
“Not distressed, Lizzy,” she replied softly, “but uncomfortable. What you propose feels very improper and wanton. Yet I know it is the course I ought to take, lest I risk losing him to another,” Jane confessed. “I do not know how to accomplish such things, and worse still, I do not know whether I possess the courage to attempt them.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Then prepare yourself, dear sister, for a very long courtship. If such a gentleman came day after day to pay his addresses to me, one who had even sold a farm in order to purchase a house near my own, I assure you I would do everything within the bounds of propriety to encourage him.”
Jane laughed. “Lizzy, you look precisely like a sermonizing great aunt.”
“Do I?”
“You do indeed. I shall follow your counsel, and when I remember the expression you wore just now, so solemn and instructive, it will make me laugh and lend me courage.”
Elizabeth set aside her fan and drew near enough to embrace her sister with warmth. “It requires only a little fortitude.”
Later, seated together in the drawing room, Elizabeth cast a sidelong glance at Jane. “Do you not feel that we resemble two crows in this dreadful black? It steals all the light from the room.”
She ran her fingers across the dull fabric. Jane did the same, though with a faint smile. “At least mine is cut more advantageously. There was a greater variety in London than what was available here. Papa has promised that, once six months have passed, we may introduce lavender, gray, and white.”
“A mercy,” Elizabeth murmured. “I begin to fear I shall forget what color looks like.”
Jane brightened. “I shall wear white to Mr. Bingley’s ball.”
Elizabeth’s expression matched her sister’s. “So shall I. Ought we to write to Aunt Maddie and request something suitable? Her modiste understands precisely how to dress a lady to advantage.”
Jane rose at once. “I will write to her now and beg the favor. She still holds our funds and may deduct the expense from there.”
While Jane sat at the escritoire, Elizabeth resumed the task of replacing a collar upon one of her father's shirts. The quiet scratch of the pen was interrupted by the sound of a carriage rolling to a halt before the house.
Elizabeth slipped the shirt into her sewing basket, and Jane folded her letter and tucked it neatly into the drawer. She glanced at her fingers for stray ink. Finding none, she crossed to the sofa opposite Elizabeth’s, and together they waited.
