“And you give them none.”
The words struck a chord in her chest.
“You see Caroline’s indifference, Mr Bingley’s silence, Mr Darcy’s reserve, and think the worst of them,” Jane said. “But isn’t it possible that their behaviour is simply misunderstood? We do not know what circumstances they might be facing, or why they would act in the manner they do. Appearances can be deceptive, Lizzie. People can seem cold when they are uncertain, or distant when they are hurt. When we look at someone, we only see the parts that they allow us to.”
Chastened, Elizabeth squeezed Jane’s hand. The words carried more weight than her sister could know.
Satisfied with her sister’s lack of argument, Jane pressed on earnestly. “You must keep an open mind, even toward those you distrust. We cannot judge the whole of a person on first impressions.”
Though she longed to argue, Elizabeth found she did not want to sully her sister’s favourable opinion of the world. “You are too good, Jane.”
“I have had a great deal of time to think about it. If we decide we already know someone’s heart, then we may blind ourselves to the truth of it.”
Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She had always believed herself to be an astute observer of character. She relished her ability to sum up a person easily, but her sister’s sentiments gave her pause. Her thoughts flickered inexplicably to Mr Darcy and his grave expression at the Meryton assembly, his cruel comment about her appearance, his coolness atNetherfield, and, most unforgivably, his interference in Jane’s happiness. Elizabeth’s distaste for him was unshakable.
She had never considered that she might be mistaken, and Elizabeth did not intend to give the idea much weight now. She pushed the thoughts of him away at once.
“I will try to be more like you, dearest,” she said lightly. “But do not ask me to like Miss Bingley.”
“Even she may have her reasons, Lizzie.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes good-naturedly. This was precisely why she had come to London. Her sister was too kind and sweet for the rough edges of London society.
But all that could be put aside, and Elizabeth intended it would be. She would soon cheer Jane and make her forget her heartache.
∞∞∞
The next morning, Elizabeth was in high spirits. Jane’s countenance was warm; her mood much lifted. It was very good that she had come to London, and Elizabeth predicted that, under her ministrations, Jane would return to her usual good humour within a fortnight.
She never would have noticed the piece of paper tucked gently next to the tea tray if Jane had not gone suddenly pale. Her fingers hovered over the sheet, trembling.
“Jane? What is it?” Elizabeth asked quietly.
“Nothing.” Jane attempted to smile and pretend all was well, but Elizabeth gently took the paper.
“It’s only foolish gossip. It doesn’t matter,” Jane said.
Elizabeth unfolded the paper, recognising it as a cheaply printed broadsheet, the sort that their father would have lambasted soundly, had he seen it. They sold for pennies on street corners and were filled with tattle. She scanned the column quickly, searching for the source of Jane’s distress.
There, in the middle of the sheet, was the story responsible. Elizabeth drew in a quick, shocked breath as she read it.
A certain country Miss B, noted for her beauty, is said to have used delicate indisposition to secure the attentions of a wealthy gentleman of fortune (B), going so far as to impose herself upon his company with well-timed fainting spells and illness. Though the gentleman’s admiration was widely observed, some whisper it was encouraged by the young lady’s manipulations and private attentions meant to ensnare a generous heart.
Elizabeth felt the colour leave her own cheeks. “You think this…this nonsense refers to you?” A knot settled in her stomach. How could anyone think this of her sister? There was no proof of the lie, clearly meant to ruin Jane’s reputation.
Jane bit her lip. “I am certain of it.”
Elizabeth threw the scandal sheet onto the table. “This is utterly ridiculous! Clearly the author has never met you.”
Jane took the scandal sheet back and folded it neatly. “It is not the first of such rumours. Aunt Gardiner has intercepted several others that hint the same, though none has been sobold thus far. No others have dared use initials to identify the subjects. She says she’s heard comments and other indelicate remarks in town, too.”
“How long has this been going on?”
Jane blinked away her unshed tears. “Two weeks.”
“Why did you not tell me?” Elizabeth clenched her hands in her lap, struggling to contain her fury.
“I did not want to worry you. I hoped they would stop on their own. There is always fresh gossip. It means nothing. And people do not really pay any mind to these things.”
