“My dear Mr. Gardiner! My dear, dear Lizzy! Oh, such a journey—and such a surprise!” She turned to Elizabeth, eyes sparkling. “I read Jane’s letter, of course—I could not help it! Mr. Darcy! Ten thousand a year! And a house in town! And to think, you never wrote tomedirectly!”
Mr. Bennet, lounging in the doorway with practiced ease, offered a dry salute. “Welcome home, Gardiner. You’ve done me the honour of returning my daughter engaged, I see. That’s a new trick. Shall I send all my relations off with you and expect them returned in an altered state?”
Mrs. Gardiner laughed and kissed her brother’s cheek as he ushered them all inside.
The crush of movement softened as they crossed the threshold. Elizabeth’s sisters came forward in turn—first Jane, serene and glowing, who folded her into a wordless embrace that answered her letter better than words. Their correspondence had been brief, but full of meaning. This was the rest of it.
Then Mary, standing slightly apart, caught her eye. Her hair was styled differently—looser, gentler—and she wore a pale dress that struck Elizabeth as oddly familiar.
Elizabeth stepped forward and hugged her. Mary accepted the embrace quietly, but firmly.
“You look—” Elizabeth began, then paused, studying her more closely.
Kitty, never far behind, supplied the explanation. “Once we finished the gown we were remaking for Jane’s wedding, we took some of your old dresses and altered them for Mary. This one was yours—but you’d never know it now. She even let me do her hair!”
Elizabeth turned back to Mary, her hands resting lightly on her arms. “You look lovely,” she said, and meant it. “Truly.”
Mary blushed, but her smile lingered.
Mrs. Gardiner had turned to Jane as they made their way toward the drawing room. “And how are the final plans coming along?”
Jane gave a modest smile. “All is nearly ready. But I’m very glad to have Lizzy back.”
Elizabeth smiled and gave her sister’s hand a small, wordless squeeze.
At that moment, Lydia flounced into the hall, arms crossed.
“Well,” she said, “it’s hardly fair that you got engaged whileIhad to stay home. If you’d let me go with the Fosters, I’m sure I’d be engaged by now too.” She sighed dramatically. “But since I wasn’t, I suppose everything must be about Lizzy again. Not that I mind, of course—it would just be nice if someone askedmehow I’m feeling.”
Mrs. Bennet waved off the comment with a flutter of her hand and launched into her plans for Meryton, listing every shop worth visiting now that she had two daughters on the brink of marriage.
Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Mary, who raised a single brow in silent commentary. Kitty covered a grin behind her hand.
The next morning was all bustle and goodbyes. Mr. Bingley had arrived in time for breakfast, cheerful and apologetic, explaining that he’d kept away the day before to allow the family time to reconnect. He was greeted with warmth and a touch of relief, especially by Jane.
The Gardiner children—still rosy from country air—chattered excitedly as they climbed into the carriage beside their parents, waving to the house with sticky fingers and loud goodbyes. Mr. Gardiner offered his thanks once more, shaking Mr. Bennet’s hand and giving Kitty a very proper bow.
As he turned to go, he clapped a hand to Mr. Bingley’s shoulder. “Well, sir—when next we meet, it seems you’ll be my nephew.”
Bingley laughed, his cheeks pinking. “It’s the greatest honour I shall ever have, sir.”
Mrs. Gardiner moved to Elizabeth’s side and embraced her gently. “Pemberley was beautiful,” she said, “but I think your presence made it finer still.”
Elizabeth’s voice was quiet. “I would never have gone without you. Thank you—for all of it. For everything.”
Mrs. Gardiner only smiled and kissed her cheek.
As the carriage pulled away, the sisters lingered on the front step, watching the dust settle on the lane.
“Where is Lydia?” Elizabeth asked after a moment, scanning the hedge row.
“She was meant to help with the tenant baskets this morning,” Kitty murmured, “but she slipped out just after dawn. Said she had to return Aunt Philips’ bonnet—but she didn’t take anything with her.”
Elizabeth’s brow tightened. She glanced toward Mary, who sighed softly.
“She’s been restless all week,” Mary said. “Always vanishing off somewhere, but claiming she is with Aunt Philips.”
“Nonsense,” said Mrs. Bennet breezily as she swept out onto the step. “Lydia is with my sister, and no doubt doing her best. You girls are always thinking the worst of her. She has spirit—that’s all.”
