Chapter 12

The six weeks Jane and Mr Bingley were in Bath felt very long to Elizabeth. She remained content in her decision not to go with them, but she missed Jane terribly. Her sister was her dearest friend, and there was a great comfort in her steady, loving presence. Elizabeth even missed the busyness of planning for the wedding. The way it had occupied her time and thoughts would have been welcome during the endless days in December and early January. Instead, she found herself wallowing in pain and anger—towards Mr Darcy for giving in to his family’s arrogance and pride and towards herself for being so foolish as to open her heart to him.

Recovering from the loss was not easy, but she did what she could, taking long walks when the weather permitted, immersing herself in new books, assisting the vicar’s wife with several charitable endeavours, and the like. Mr Bennet accused her of being dispirited.

“I pray it is not because you are jealous of Jane or, heaven forbid, Lydia,” he had once said. “If I suspected as much, I would think less of you.”

Part of her had wanted to kick him, but instead, she had said, “It is simply the season, Papa, and how quiet we are. I want activity. Hate me for it if you like. I shall not attempt to stop you.”

Mrs Bennet’s behaviour was worse. She complained about Elizabeth still being at home, “…when your sister, who is five years younger, is already married. You ought to have married when you had the chance. I shall never understand why you refused Mr Collins. It would have been you about to have a child instead of Charlotte, and Lady Lucas tells me the Collinses’ parsonage is very comfortable. I should have liked to visit you there, I am sure. Instead, look at you! You are growing thin, and you have lost your youth! No one will want you, and you will regret the choices you have made.”

Elizabeth imagined she would regain some of her vigour if she did not have to listen to such condemning speeches.

As the weeks passed, she convinced herself that she was improving. To be sure, thinking about Mr Darcy and what might have been still caused her to suffer a pang, but she was convinced she would soon entirely forget the romantic sentiments she harboured for him.

The Bingleys’ return to the neighbourhood was greeted with great fanfare. Mrs Bennet was especially vocal in her joy to see the couple again, but the pair were so well loved by everyone that there was a general increase in merriment and parties in the first weeks after they took up residence at Netherfield Park. It seemed that a fortnight passed before Elizabeth was able to have an uninterrupted conversation with her sister.

“I am so glad we can finally sit and talk together!” Jane said. “I have told Bingley he is not to disturb us for anything less than the house falling down around us for at least an hour.”

The ladies were in Jane’s apartment, sharing a sofa covered in a floral-patterned silk.

“What a pretty room this is!” Elizabeth said. “You did very well with the changes you ordered. Dare I ask what my mother said when she first saw it?”

“Please do not!”

The sisters laughed together and, after Jane served them cups of tea, got down to the important business of sharing everything of importance that had happened since the wedding, even when it meant repeating what they had written to each other during Jane’s time in Bath. Elizabeth insisted on hearing about the wedding trip. Unlike her previous worries about being envious, there was not even a crumb of that ugly emotion. Next to being happy herself, she most wished to see Jane live a life full of contentment and love.

“Bath sounds delightful,” she said when Jane paused to drink her tea.

“Oh, it is. Caroline would say it is not as fashionable as Brighton, but I do not care for such things, as you know, and neither does Bingley. But enough about me. I want to hear about you. I hesitate to mention his name, but I feel I must. In your letters, you said nothing about Mr Darcy. Did you and he not speak at all when he was here?”

Elizabeth’s gaze fell from her sister to the saucer in her hands. If she had not already finished her tea, she would have slowly sipped it to delay her confession. Since that was not a possibility, she told Jane what had passed between her and the gentleman on the morning of the wedding.

Jane was shocked. “How could he—? I cannot believe he truly loved you, if?—”

“No, neither can I,” Elizabeth interjected. She hoped to be done with the subject as quickly as possible. “I admit, it took me more than a se’nnight to come to that conclusion. It is either that or he was reminded of his pride, which I believed was his most cherished characteristic when we first met. Perhaps it was both in equal measure. Whatever the reason, he has decided I am not a worthy enough object on which to bestow his affection.”

“Lizzy, do not joke about it! It must have been incredibly distressing.” Jane’s eyes were bright with unshed tears.

Elizabeth set aside her cup and rested a hand on her sister’s arm. “None of that, please. The situation does not warrant it, and I have cried enough for both of us. But it is at an end now. I am quite determined. It was difficult, but given his family’s past connexion to Wickham, I should not be surprised. If anything, I am astonished Mr Darcy ever considered marrying someone who must call that man brother.”

“You ought to have written to me.”

“I did not because, knowing you and your tender heart, you might have insisted Mr Bingley bring you home at once. I could not have that.” Elizabeth smiled. “Now, enough about disagreeable gentlemen and their even more disagreeable families. Tell me truly, sister dearest, how greatly is Mama pestering you and your darling husband? Do not deny it. You marrying Mr Bingley is the great triumph of her life. She hardly talked of anything else when you were away, and I see how she likes to show you both off whenever possible.”

Jane rubbed her bottom lip and opened and closed her mouth several times before finally responding. “Mama will…not always be so enthusiastic.”

“Do you truly believe that?” Elizabeth asked, her tone amused. “Her daughter is mistress of the largest estate in the neighbourhood. I do not believe she will let anyone forget it.”

With reluctance, Jane admitted she feared Elizabeth was correct. “I know you will not tell anyone, but Bingley and I would both prefer to not have so much attention.” She hastened to add, “Everyone is so kind, and he does like to be sociable, but…”

“It is too much. I wish there was something I could do, but you know my mother would not listen to me if I told her she should leave you to yourselves. Indeed, I have already tried.”

“I know you have, and I appreciate it. We shall go to town in the spring, and knowing that helps. I mean for you to come with us.”

Elizabeth gave an indifferent nod; she had expected as much but was not sure what she felt about being in London. She might encounter Mr Darcy there, which would be difficult, despite her resolution to forget she had ever liked him—let alone loved him. Yet, there was no better place to seek diversion, which she knew would do a great deal to improve her spirits and return her to her former cheerful self.

Nothing more was said of London that morning; after all, there were weeks to go before any specific arrangements would have to be made. Yet, in February, they received news that encouraged Elizabeth to give her enthusiastic support to leaving Meryton. Lydia had written to her mother to say she planned to make a long visit and would be at Longbourn by the end of March. Mrs Bennet was almost faint with anticipation.

Elizabeth would do just about anything to avoid seeing her youngest sister. From everything she heard of Lydia’s life, Mrs Wickham remained the silly, ignorant, selfish girl she had been before her marriage. Nothing was said of Mr Wickham accompanying Lydia to Hertfordshire, yet, after a day spent listening to her mother’s recitation of the many parties she intended to arrange to ensure her daughter was well-amused, Elizabeth knew she would be miserable if she remained at Longbourn.

Jane and Mr Bingley soon decided to go to London earlier than they originally intended, which had not been until after Easter.

“I shall wait to tell my mother until closer to our departure. The news about Lydia convinced me to alter our previous arrangements,” Jane explained.

“And Mama’s behaviour remains overbearing. You need not admit it, sister dearest. I know it is against your nature to criticise anyone, but I can see that you and Mr Bingley both find her fatiguing. It will only be worse when Lydia is here and my mother can show off her two married daughters at once.”

With evident reluctance, Jane concurred. “You must come with us.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to agree, but to her own surprise, instead hesitated.

“Are you worried you might see Mr Darcy?”

After a brief pause, Elizabeth said, “Not particularly. I see now that my infatuation for him was a grave error, and he can no longer touch my heart. How could it be otherwise, once I discovered his views are exactly what I believed them to be last spring, not what I allowed myself to believe they had become in the summer?”

Her sister looked uncertain. “I shall do whatever I must to keep you apart.”

“It is generous of you to make such a promise, but you know it is impossible.” Elizabeth kissed her cheek.

“I could tell Bingley,” Jane said softly.

Elizabeth shook her finger at her sister. “You promised you would not tell him of my history with his friend, and I shall hold you to it. I am disappointed in Mr Darcy, but he was always free to change his mind, and if he is so persuadable—if he is willing to listen to his family, as he evidently has—then I do not want him any more than he wants me. I must either allow you to destroy your dear husband’s friendship with him or accustom myself to meeting him upon occasion. I choose the latter, though I admit I hope we do not see each other often, at least at first. It will become easier with practice, as most things do. Knowing I might be uneasy in his company is why I did not immediately assure you I would go with you to town, but of course, I shall.”

“Oh, I am relieved to hear it! You know it is my wish that we shall not be separated until you find a husband who truly deserves you. Until then, Bingley and I both want you to make your home with us.”

Elizabeth embraced her, whispering her thanks. “I believe my father might have a thing or two to say about it. I shall speak to him, but only about spending the spring in London with you. We should leave any discussions of the summer and beyond until later.”

Jane nodded, and the sisters spent the next while imagining how they would amuse themselves in town.