“But did Mr. Bingley know it? Charlotte Lucas actually told me, months ago, that if you did not make more of an effort to show Mr. Bingley your feelings, that you would lose him.”
Jane stopped in her tracks and turned to her sister, hurt and astonishment on her face. “Charlotte said that?”
“She did, yes.”
“You did not tell me?”
“Jane, what should I have said? Should I have encouraged you to flirt more openly, to flutter your fan and your lashes?”
“Yes. No. I do not know! But, Lizzy, I could not have done such things. I am not a flirt.”
“I knew that, Jane, of course, and so I said nothing.”
They resumed walking. Finally, Jane said, “I am as much to blame as anyone then, for not revealing my feelings.”
“Jane, no. Not at all. We are taught to be demure and ladylike, and your behaviour was perfect in every way. It was just bad fortune that Mr. Bingley’s sisters and friend – mentor, even – were opposed to the match.”
“Bad fortune for both myself and for Mr. Bingley,” Jane said. “I suppose I should allow his visits, and determine for myself how strong his affections are. I will not be made a fool of again.”
“I believe this is the right decision, Jane.”
“But you will sit with me when he comes, Lizzy?”
“Of course; and I think you can count on Kitty and Mary as well.”
“Oh, Lizzy, there is something else. Papa wants us to go through Mama’s things and – well, do whatever is right with them.”
Elizabeth winced. “I do not think I can do that, Jane.”
“But it must be done, Lizzy; perhaps some of her gowns can be made over for us. And certainly Mrs. Hill must have something of hers to remember her by. You were not here, but Mrs. Hill was absolutely inconsolable for days.”
“And here I thought she just tolerated Mama!”
“Nothing could be further from the truth; she rolled her eyes a good deal behind Mama’s back, as did we all, but she loved Mama.”
Elizabeth considered this. Then she said, “Kitty and Mary must be there too, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Very well; I suppose there is no time like the present.”
As Jane went to fetch Kitty and Mary, Elizabeth made her way up to her mother’s room. She stopped at the closed door, tears beginning to gather in her eyes. There had been so much happening – Lydia, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley – that Elizabeth had managed to push the fact of her mother’s death to the back of her mind. But now, about to walk into her mother’s chamber, the reality that she would never see her mother again could not be avoided.
She opened the door and paused at the threshold. Her mother’s scent, lavender, washed over her. “Oh, Mama,” she whispered, tears now pouring down her cheeks. She threw herself down upon her mother’s bed and wept as she had never wept before. She remembered her mother cleaning her skinned knees, comforting her when she had been teased by the Lucas boys, helping her pin up her hair for the first time. She rememberedarguing over how much – or, preferably, how little – lace should be on her dresses, wincing when Mama compared her unfavorably to Jane, despairing of her mother’s merchant-class manners, and she wished – oh, how very much she wished! – that she could have those moments back, that she could tell Mama how much, how very much, she loved her!
As her tears began to slow, she became aware that her sisters were in the room with her. Mary put a hand on Elizabeth’s hair, stroking, saying, “Cry, Lizzie, cry. We three are all but cried out, I think, but you have not had the leisure to do so.”
Elizabeth sniffed hard and sat up. “I thank you, Mary. No, it seems there has not been a moment – and I truly still cannot believe that she will not walk in and scold us for lying on her bed.”
“And scold you in particular for wetting her pillowcases with your tears!” Kitty added.
The girls laughed a little at that.
“I suppose it is easier for us to accept the truth of her death, since we sat with her until she was buried,” Jane said. “Though I envy you for not having the image of her lying here, cold and still, stamped forever in your mind.”
Elizabeth shivered. “I have never seen a dead person. Was it terrible?”
Kitty nodded vigorously. “It was, Lizzy, it was the worst thing imaginable.”
