The ladies looked unmoved. Evidently the idea of Mr. Bingley as head of the family carried very little weight, but they reckoned without Mr. Bingley’s strong determination to be reunited with his lost love.
“I will hear no more,” their brother declared. “We leave tomorrow morning. Caroline, Louisa, have your maids pack your trunks tonight. Hurst, I have heard nothing from you; I trust you have no objection?”
Mr. Hurst shrugged. ”I liked Netherfield well enough; the sport was good and the cellar adequate.”
Chapter Six
Elizabeth never could recall much of the journey home. She had vague memories of inns, of watching the landscape outside the window, of her aunt comforting her husband, who was grieving the death of his sister, and both of them trying – oh so very kindly! – to engage her in conversation.
Her first clear memory was of their arrival at Longbourn. Mrs. Hill rushed out the door the moment she spotted the Gardiner’s carriage. “Miss Elizabeth! I am so very glad – “
Elizabeth gave Mrs. Hill a quick hug, averting her eyes from her black cap, and then ran into the house. “Jane? Jane!”
Jane appeared at once and ran into her sister’s arms. “Oh, Lizzy,” she wept. “I have no words to tell you how very glad I am to see you.”
“Tell me at once, Jane. What happened? Where is Papa?”
Further discussion was interrupted by the appearance of Kitty, Mary and the three Gardiner children, ages three, four and six. The children, having no idea of the drama unfolding around them, had no hesitation in expressing their delight at seeing their parents again. Elizabeth did what she knew she must and hugged them all, promising them a story later that night if they behaved themselves.
Mrs. Gardiner immediately took charge of her little ones, leading them up the stairs to the nursery as they regaled her with tales of their adventures while at Longbourn.
Kitty and Mary came to hug Elizabeth, but they did not speak.
“Where is your father, Jane?” Mr. Gardiner asked.
“He is in his study.”
“He did not go to London?” Mr. Gardiner asked.
“He was ready to go, but then Mama –“ Jane stopped as tears began to fall down her cheeks.
“What happened to Mama, Jane?” Elizabeth whispered. “What did Mr. Jones say?”
“That it was likely a stroke of some sort.”
“And where is she now?”
Jane could not reply; it was Mr. Gardiner who explained. “It is August, Lizzy.”
“So she has already been buried,” Elizabeth realised, tears starting in her eyes.
“There was no choice. We wished to wait for you, but it is so very hot,” Jane said, tremulously.
“I understand, of course.” Elizabeth’s voice was wooden.
“Kitty, go and get your father,” Mr. Gardiner said. “Let us sit together in the parlour so that we might decide what to do next.”
Kitty nodded and vanished.
Mary said, softly, “Mama’s service was lovely, Lizzy. There were flowers, and hymns, and Aunt Philips cried like anything.”
“I am so sorry that I was not here, Mary.”
“I kept thinking that now Mama need not worry about the hedgerows,” Mary said, and then she burst into tears, her shoulders shaking.
Elizabeth put her arms around her sister, whispering that everything would be all right, they would all be well, but neither she nor Mary believed a word of it.
Mr. Bennet emerged with Mr. Gardiner. Elizabeth’s eyes widened; she had never seen her father in such a state. His hair was uncombed, his clothes stained, and his eyes bloodshot. She ran to him and put her arms around him. She felt him squirm uncomfortably. “I am a mess, Lizzy,” he murmured. “I do not wish to dirty your dress.”
