It was indeed a terrible notion, but only in that anyone could ever think Jane capable of such an act. Elizabeth took her sister by the shoulders, trying her best to instil her with confidence.
“Then we must hold our heads high and prove to them you are not the schemer this gossip claims you to be. We shall dance and laugh and show everyone that we Bennets shall not be outdone by foolishness.”
Jane shook her head at Elizabeth’s stubborn determination. “If you think it would be best, Lizzy, then I shall try.”
Elizabeth kissed her cheek and handed Jane her gloves. “Besides, I will be at your side the entire evening. If anyone dares to mention this gossip or makes any impolite suggestions, they will have me to contend with.”
Jane laughed. “I pity the poor gentleman or lady who crosses you tonight. But remember what I said about letting your temper get the better of you.”
Elizabeth tugged on her own gloves, knowing her sister had placed her in a position she could not refuse. “Since you promised you will go tonight, then I shall attempt to keep anopen mind.” It was the least she could do, even if it would give her the greatest pleasure to find whoever had slandered her sister and denounce them most publicly.
So far, she’d gained no leads on who the gossip could be, but that could all change tonight. Steeling herself, Elizabeth looped her arm through her sister’s, and they set off for the party.
∞∞∞
The carriage pulled up to the drive, and Elizabeth was the first to descend. Chatter, music, and the clinking of glasses floated through the air. The Bennet sisters and Mr and Mrs Gardiner made their way through the receiving line. Elizabeth squeezed Jane’s hand as they entered the ballroom.
The first few moments of the gathering provided little either of displeasure or of particular interest. A few acquaintances of the Gardiners greeted them warmly, and Jane entered into the conversation with a mixture of her usual elegance and determined cheerfulness.
But no sooner had Elizabeth entertained her first thoughts that the evening might be easy and uneventful than she learned it would be neither.
“Oh, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth!” Mr Bingley approached them with a speed that left no doubt of his pleasure at seeing them both.
“Mr Bingley,” Jane said shyly. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”
“Indeed it is!” Mr Bingley eagerly agreed. “And to see you in London! I did not know to hope for it.”
Jane blinked in surprise. “You did not know I was in London? Did not Miss Bingley tell you?”
“No,” Mr Bingley stammered. “I cannot think — no, she did not.” No sooner had he got out the words than a range of expressions passed over the gentleman’s face, beginning in surprise, passing through anger, and ending in deep embarrassment. He must have reached the same conclusion that Elizabeth had long ago: Caroline Bingley, who did not wish her brother to marry a young woman who could not add to his riches or consequence, had concealed Jane’s presence in town from her brother.
A brief silence fell. Jane and Mr Bingley were both too much conscious of the obvious conclusion and too embarrassed to speak. Looking at them, Elizabeth knew that something must be done, before neither could bear to look the other in the face.
“Ah, how terrible it is to be forgetful!” Elizabeth exclaimed with determination. “I believe we have all known such an experience, have we not? We shall laugh at your sister most heartily when we see her next, shall we not, Mr Bingley?”
He seized eagerly on the veneer of respectability she had given to Miss Bingley’s duplicity. “Why, yes! Indeed, it is so, Miss Elizabeth. How understanding you are! I could not count the number of times I have gone all the way to the stables to set out on my horse, only to realise I have not yet put on my riding boots!”
“Yes, indeed,” Jane added. “And I have scarcely ever closed a letter without remembering two or three things I had intended to put in it but had quite forgot as I was writing.”
They smiled warmly at each other, all awkwardness, if not forgotten, then at least pushed away.
It was only after a long moment that Mr Bingley recalled smiles were not enough to make a conversation, and something must be said. “Miss Bennet, are that lady and that gentleman just there the other members of your party?”
“Yes, my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. My sister and I are staying with them in town.”
“I should be very much obliged by an introduction, if you would grant me one,” Mr Bingley told her.
As Jane was nothing loath, this was quickly accomplished, and Mr Bingley was as quickly engaged in making himself pleasant to their aunt and uncle. Nor was he backward in requesting a dance from Jane, or in leading her to the dance floor once she had agreed. They looked very well indeed, dancing together as happily as though they had never been parted.
Elizabeth suppressed a chuckle at how well her little stratagem had worked. With only a polite excuse and a few moments of conversation, the dreadful awkwardness of Miss Bingley’s deception had been got over. Jane and Mr Bingley were so very much alike, each so obliging and good-natured, so determined to think the best of everybody. For a moment, looking at their happiness and their eagerness to be pleased, Elizabeth almost resolved to emulate the trait.
Then a familiar snobbish voice cut through the hum of conversations around them, and Elizabeth was reminded that it was well not to have everyone in a family so very open and defenceless.
“Why, Miss Elizabeth! Such a surprise to see you here.” Caroline Bingley approached like a cat who had spotted a canary it wanted to feast on. Her orange gown flared brightly beneath the chandeliers, drawing the eyes of many toward her as she floated through the crowd. She looked at her brother, and most particularly at how close her brother stood to Jane, with obvious displeasure.
Elizabeth stood a fraction taller and steeled herself. “Though, perhaps, not as much a surprise as it might have been?” she suggested.
“No, not at all,” Miss Bingley replied, her eyes theatrically wide. “Under the circumstances, I should have thought…” she trailed off and leaned in, her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, perhaps Miss Bennet is braver than I.”
