Elizabeth’s trust, once shaken, was not easily restored. She found herself wondering whether he remained committed to unmasking the author of the rumours, or whether he had already begun to retreat from the danger, and from her along with it.
The mystery before them suddenly felt more perilous, not merely because their enemy remained hidden, but because she could no longer be certain of her ally.
Chapter 10
The remainder of the afternoon brought no reprieve. If anything, the city hummed with a renewed appetite for the Bennets’ disgrace.
Jane endured it with her usual gentleness, but the strain showed in small, betraying ways: the hesitation before she spoke, the faint shadows beneath her eyes, and the manner in which her smile appeared to cost her more effort than before.
“It will pass,” Jane placated when Elizabeth burst into their shared sitting room with cheeks flushed and temper near boiling. “These things always do.”
Elizabeth stopped short. “If by ‘pass’ you mean ‘ruin us entirely before it grows tiresome,’ then, yes. I am sure it shall pass very quickly.”
Jane looked at her with quiet reproach. “Lizzie,” she said softly.
“I beg your pardon,” Elizabeth said, instantly repentant. She had not meant to wound her sister. “I do not mean to rail at you. It is only that this is intolerable.”
The word did not begin to cover it.
“I know you meant no harm,” Jane said, quick as ever to find forgiveness.
Elizabeth pressed a palm to her forehead and sighed. “If we stay inside for the remainder of our lives, I shall go mad. Come walking with me.”
Jane reluctantly agreed. Rather than sit inside ruminating on thoughts that circled one another into a tangle of worry and frustration, the Bennet sisters ventured out to the shops. To remain hidden felt too much like surrender, yet each step into the public eye seemed to confirm the depth of their peril.
A formerly cordial acquaintance crossed the street rather than acknowledge them. A matron who had once praised Jane’s manners now inclined her head with stiff reluctance. Elizabeth caught fragments of conversation as they passed. Half-whispered conjectures and pointed laughter trailed on the air behind them.
“Poor Mr Bingley…”
“…so artful, the whole family…”
“…one cannot be too cautious…”
Elizabeth felt as though she were walking through a hall of mirrors, every surface reflecting a distorted version of herself and her sister. The worst of it was not the cruelty, but the certainty with which others pronounced judgment on matters they could not possibly understand.
Jane bore it all in silence, but when they returned home, her composure faltered.
“I should not have come to London at all,” she said, sitting heavily upon the sofa. “If my presence only harms those I care for, then perhaps a retreat is best, as Miss Bingley once advised.”
Elizabeth crossed the room at once and sat beside her. “Do not say such a thing. You are not to blame for the malice of others. And I think it would be foolish to take the advice of Caroline Bingley.”
Jane attempted a smile. “I fear malice is stronger than innocence.”
Elizabeth could not argue with that.
The Gardiners, too, felt the tremor of public opinion. After supper, when the children were put to bed, they came to speak with Elizabeth and Jane, their concern written plainly upon their faces.
Mrs Gardiner embraced them both with affectionate warmth, but her brow was knit with worry. “My darling girls.”
Elizabeth braced herself.
“There is no doubt,” Mr Gardiner began, “that the present situation is delicate. Your good name is dear to us, and we would never think of withdrawing our support. Yet we must consider what arrangement might best preserve your comfort and your future.”
Jane listened with perfect civility, but Elizabeth saw her hands tighten in her lap.
Mrs Gardiner spoke then, her voice full of regret. “You know how fondly we cherish you both. Still, there are those who might misconstrue your staying with us in town. It could invitefurther speculation. We wonder whether a quieter situation might be kinder, at least for the present.”
Elizabeth understood at once what was being suggested. Exile in all but name.
