Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Jane and said lightly, “I suspect the invitation was meant for you, Jane, and I am only added by way of civility.”
“Nonsense,” cried Mrs. Bennet. “You will not refuse, Lizzy! Do not be absurd. You shall not ruin your sister’s felicity with such foolish scruples. Think what Miss Bingley would say if you stayed behind! They would think us ungrateful and proud.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly, though her thoughts were less composed than her countenance suggested. She said nothing to her mother. The mention of Netherfield, however indifferent she wished to appear, stirred something unquiet within her.Would Mr. Darcy be there? The letter had spoken of hunting and billiards, but would such sport keep the gentlemen within Netherfield's grounds, or might they venture elsewhere?
The thought both startled and unsettled her. Since learning from Mr. Collins that Mr. Darcy was engaged to his cousin, she had told herself repeatedly that it signified nothing. Yet to her dismay, it did. There was an odd weight in knowing his future was fixed so precisely, and elsewhere.
She chided herself silently.What foolishness! What are his concerns to me?Yet for all her resolve, she could not dispel the faint flutter beneath her ribs.
After breakfast, as Jane went to prepare, Elizabeth turned to her sister. “I should prefer to walk, Jane. The air will do me good, and Pippin has not had a proper outing in days.”
Mrs. Bennet, overhearing, looked scandalised. “Walk to Netherfield? Absolutely not! You would arrive in such a state that Miss Bingley would take you for a beggar. A lady does not tramp through the mud when she has a carriage at her disposal.”
Mr. Collins folded his hands in support. “Indeed, cousin Elizabeth, Lady Catherine would most heartily disapprove. She holds that ladies of decorum should always arrive in a carriage, no matter how short the distance.”
Pippin padded into the drawing room just then, as if summoned by the rising voices, and positioned herself beside Elizabeth's chair.
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Then Lady Catherine and I must differ. Still, I suppose there is no help for it. But I warn you, I shall not go without Pippin.”
“Without that creature?” Mrs. Bennet cried. “You cannot mean it! What will they think, your taking a dog to tea?”
Elizabeth bent to stroke the spaniel’s head. “There is little amusement for me at Netherfield beyond Jane’s company. Atleast Pippin may find some diversion with Apollo. Then my going will have some purpose.”
Mr. Bennet, who had listened with quiet amusement, at last set down his paper. “You may take the carriage, my dears. The wheel was mended only yesterday, and the horses have rested since their work on the farm. They are quite fit for a drive.”
Mrs. Bennet beamed. “How fortunate! Then it is settled. You shall both go in the carriage—and Pippin may follow, if she must. Only take care, Lizzy, that she behaves herself. I will not have reports reaching me of that animal misbehaving or running amok through Netherfield’s drawing room.”
“I shall endeavour to keep her in check,” Elizabeth said with mock solemnity.
Moments later, the sisters were ready. Jane, serene as ever, looked lovely in her blue pelisse, while Elizabeth tied her bonnet with brisk, determined fingers. Pippin bounded at her heels, tail wagging furiously at the prospect of adventure.
As the carriage rolled away down the lane, Mrs. Bennet stood at the doorway, fluttering her handkerchief. “Oh, what happiness for my Jane! Netherfield at last!”
Mr. Bennet, beside her, smiled faintly. “And for Pippin too, it seems. She appears as pleased with the invitation as any of us.”
The spaniel's tail beat a merry rhythm against the cushioned seat as the carriage lurched into motion, and Elizabeth, watching her contented expression, felt her own spirits lift a little.
***
THE AFTERNOON WAS GREY AND DAMP, the air heavy with the scent of rain-soaked leaves. A fine drizzle drifted across the park as the Bennet carriage turned into the long drive to Netherfield, the wheels cutting dark tracks into the glisteninggravel. The house loomed through the mist, its pale stone softened by the low clouds.
Elizabeth drew her cloak more closely about her and held Pippin near, shielding the little spaniel from the rain that slipped through the open window. Jane’s tranquil smile remained unshaken.
“Only see how beautiful Netherfield looks,” Jane said gently, her eyes alight despite the drizzle. “Even the rain cannot dull its charm.”
“Yes, very handsome,” Elizabeth replied, her voice touched with irony. “Though one might imagine its mistress looking out from those windows, prepared to count our faults before we even alight.”
Pippin gave a small bark, shaking the cold from her ears as though in agreement.
“I know you think them proud,” Jane said patiently, “but they have invited us. That should count for civility.”
Elizabeth’s thoughts, though outwardly calm, were in a gentle tumult. She had told herself she came only for Jane’s sake, and perhaps a pleasant walk for Pippin, yet her pulse betrayed her. Would Mr. Darcy be there? She had half-hoped and half-dreaded it. She reminded herself that she had no reason in the world to care for his presence—or his absence—but still her heart did not quite obey.
The carriage came to a halt at the entrance. A footman hurried forward beneath an umbrella, and Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst appeared in the doorway, their gowns gleaming even in the dull light. Their smiles were all warmth and welcome, yet their eyes held a faint air of surprise.
“My dear Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth,” cried Miss Bingley. “What a charming surprise. We had thought the rain might deter you. The gentlemen are just returned from their ride.”
Mrs. Hurst nodded with a polished smile. “We had meant only to spare you a dreary morning surrounded by the gentlemen and all the tiresome decorum their company demands. They have, however, returned earlier than expected—the rain drove them in.”
