Page 49
It had been a day for sighs, Elizabeth exhaled loudly.
“Which leads me to the point that is more painful than any of Miss Bingley’s demonic diatribes.”
“Jane?”
Elizabeth nodded, pacing as she gathered her thoughts.
“How did she describe Miss Bingley’s insinuation?”
“Something like ‘she should not have said that’, but she was more upset with me for my response than the original insult.”
“What did she say this afternoon?”
Elizabeth scoffed.
“She took a long time to say very little. The gist of it was that I needed to be more ladylike.”
Mary was incredulous.
“In the face of that insinuation about you and our uncle?”
“It comes back to something I discussed with Claire and Robert this morning. Papa, Jane, Charlotte Lucas, even you on occasion, have accused me of being too blunt, too direct. Miss Bingley never said anything actionable. It was the pauses, the smirk, the tone, that conveyed what she meant. She never said the words. Whereas I all but called her a traitor, an agent working for a foreign power.”
Mary had flushed at Elizabeth’s comment but knew the truth of it. She had told Elizabeth she was too blunt. In this instance she did not know how to respond. It had been a breathtaking insult against Elizabeth, thinly-veiled for sure but breathtaking nonetheless.
“What are you going to do about Miss Bingley now?”
“Ignore her. She is never going to invite me to Netherfield and if we are both in attendance at an event at one of our neighbours then I will make sure to stay away from her. At worst I will have to curtsey and mumble ‘Miss Bingley’ before moving away, and at best I never have to talk to her ever again.”
“And Jane?”
The one thing Elizabeth had not shared was her suspicion about Jane’s loyalty to their family. It was not provable and Elizabeth could not bring herself to talk about it. Even to Mary.
“I do not know. That was the biggest misconception in my own mind, that everything in Hertfordshire would be as it was when I left. I was closest to Jane, and Charlotte Lucas was my best friend. But after four years, the two of them are now close friends and my closest sister, and best friend, is you Mary.”
The two sisters embraced tightly. Damp eyes were dried and with thanks to Robert they returned to the Manor.
--
“I worry about our girl.”
Robert and Claire Smith were barely five years older than Elizabeth but when alone always called her ‘our girl’. They were lying in bed that Sunday evening. Claire acknowledged Robert’s comment.
“She is lost, unsure of where her place is in the world.”
“There are precious few who would not be lost based on her experiences the last four years. Let me ask you a seemingly unrelated question. Do you still think of your family?”
“My family? You mean my parents and siblings, rather than you?”
Robert nodded.
“Occasionally I suppose. Something will happen, or someone will say something, that reminds me of them. But it is not often. There never seems to be time. Everyone is still alive, although two of my nephews were stillborn. Why do you ask?”
“I will get to that in just a minute. When did you start in service?”
“I was 14 years old, so 11 years ago.”
“And you left Norfolk and travelled to London, yes?”
