38

Jane Bingley sat with her head in her hands, her elbows on her knees, weeping, the letter from Caroline crumpled in her hand. Elizabeth knelt at her feet, gently rubbing Jane’s back in slow, soothing motions. It took nearly a quarter of an hour for Jane’s tears to abate, and Elizabeth’s silence was just what Jane needed as she spent her feelings.

She felt a great many things all at once. Revulsion at the incestuous origins of the child she was raising, shame at how Caroline had used her, anger at the odious woman, and anger at Charles as well, and yet a terrible sadness for him. Of course, she was also chagrined that Captain Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam knew the truth, though she had little resentment toward them for it. She had briefly been furious that the letter had been so long in Elizabeth’s possession, but that sentiment was dispelled when Elizabeth explained that it had been forgotten when she heard of their father’s illness.

Above all, Jane felt what a waste all of her previous agony had been. Caroline had wrought so much havoc and caused so much pain, and in her letter declared that she was happy to do it. And such a woman had been one whose friendship Jane had sought, whom she had tarnished herself to please.

When she had collected herself, Jane sat up and began to wipe away her tears. Elizabeth rested her arms on Jane’s lap and looked up at her. “I wish you would tell me what you are thinking, dearest.”

“That I am glad that evil virago is dead,” Jane said, surprising herself with the vehemence of her own words.

“That seems to be a popular opinion,” Elizabeth said wryly.

“I wonder what Captain Darcy is saying to Charles,” Jane mused, since she was speaking her thoughts aloud.

“I suppose he is giving him the dressing down of a lifetime.”

Jane frowned, suddenly realising that she did not share her sister’s acrimony. “Oh, no – that is not what I would wish.”

Elizabeth furrowed her brows. “Are you not angry with him?”

“I am, but I have had more than a year of being angry with him for siring a child with another woman,” Jane said. “But it has been exhausting.”

“Because he allowed you to believe that it was your actions that led to his infidelity,” Elizabeth cried. “You have made yourself miserable over it.”

“But now I know that is not the case.” Elizabeth had told Jane the whole story when she read the letter – Caroline had preyed upon Charles when he was in his cups and deep in his grief over his friend, just as she had turned Jane’s own vulnerability to her advantage.

“But you might have known that sooner,” Elizabeth said. “You might have known that he had never bestowed his affection elsewhere, never loved another.”

Yes, Jane knew she might have made peace with the past much sooner. But that was not how it happened, and she might torture herself with a thousand might-have-beens, but she was too worn down from all the damage Caroline had done. But she was determined to turn that pressure into a diamond.

“I know it now, Lizzy.”

Elizabeth appeared contemplative. “I suppose it is for the best that you are not as angry with Charles as I expected. I do wish you two to make amends fully, but I confess I am very cross with him for what he has done, and for how long he concealed the truth.”

Jane nodded. “Of course it upsets me, but it took me two years to confess how I had schemed with Caroline, and what he did was ever so much worse. I can understand why he could not bring himself to own to it.”

“It was much worse,” Elizabeth scoffed.

“But he was not himself,” Jane said. “I was neither intoxicated nor bereaved when Caroline got her claws into me.”

Elizabeth’s countenance darkened. “You were frightened after Mamma gave you that awful ultimatum.”

Jane nodded, thinking she had made too much of her fear of being forced to marry Mr. Collins. She was glad she had wed Charles instead, but her cousin seemed to be a fine husband to Kitty. She pursed her lips as she thought of how to speak her mind to Elizabeth without offending her.

“You censure Charles for falling prey to Caroline’s manipulation, just as you blamed me for doing so. I know what my duplicity cost you and I will be sorry for it all my life. And yet you have forgiven me for what I did – and I must forgive Charles for the same reason.”

Elizabeth held Jane’s gaze as she considered this. Jane adored her sister’s clever reasoning, her openness to new ideas; she hoped Elizabeth might be moved to consider things as she did now, when it mattered most.

“I suppose it shall be easier to reconcile with your husband with such a perspective as that. You have both been the victims of a vicious harpy who inveigled you into doing things against your character, and at the expense of people you loved.”

“And it has cost us dearly,” Jane replied.

Elizabeth pursed her lips and then asked, “Do you pity Charles?”

Jane smiled sadly; her sister understood her. “If a man had gotten a lady drunk to lure her into a dalliance, he would be called a rake and a libertine.”

“True,” Elizabeth agreed. She smiled up at Jane. “I am all astonishment; you are taking this very well. I should be in a murderous rage, in your position.”

Jane laughed. “Not everybody is the same, Lizzy.” She twisted her face into a mischievous expression and then said, “There may perhaps be some small part of me that wants to tear down the curtains and break the fine china, and perhaps kick Charles out of a window. But I know that it would serve nothing – nothing but Caroline’s agenda.”

“Shall you revenge yourself on her by refusing to let your marriage be destroyed?”

“Exactly.”

Elizabeth gave her a bright smile. “It is good to hear that you no longer blame yourself so cruelly. I am sorry I ever did. But you now know that it was all Caroline’s wickedness – I hope you have really forgiven yourself, especially if you can forgive Charles.”

Again Jane pondered for a moment before she could formulate a reply. “I believe I have you to thank for it, Lizzy. There is, of course, the impulse to wish that I had known the truth long ago, and spared myself so much anguish, yet perhaps I would not have received it with such grace. You have set a fine example, for though you may regret your separation from Captain Darcy, you know that it led to you having two darling children, and so you would not change the past, even for the pain it caused. I believe it is the same for me. I have only just begun to feel myself again since we have had this house party. Feeling beloved by those I might expect to despise me, and sharing a newfound camaraderie with my husband – this is why I am able to bear this great shock with such….”

“Poise? Confidence? Magnanimity?” Elizabeth supplied the words with a smile.

“Yes,” Jane said. “In truth, the worst of my feelings is a heavy sorrow for Charles. Knowing what I had done in conspiring with Caroline ate away at my heart; he has carried a heavier burden than that these two years. My heart aches for him, knowing how disgusting he must have felt after such a thing. It is dreadful to think that she would do that to her own brother, if not by blood but in every other way. I was someone she had known but a couple of months – she also degraded a man she had known since her infancy. She even boasted to me of her ability to manipulate him!”

Elizabeth began to look terribly sad, and Jane could only feel relief that her sister’s anger had cooled. “Would you really not have had such a generous reaction if he had told you sooner?”

“I cannot know how I would have acted a month ago or even a year ago,” Jane said with a sigh.

She stroked her swollen belly with both hands and looked down with a smile. She was further along than she had ever been before, and in the last fortnight she had finally begun to believe she would really give her husband a child this time. Perhaps she would throw a house party every time she felt the quickening, so that the babe might grow strong from all the love and joy that surrounded her.

Elizabeth seemed to sense the direction of Jane’s thoughts. “It is a good thing for your little one that you have quickly grown serene.”

“Yes,” Jane said. “I will not risk my child over that awful woman. She does not deserve to hold any influence over me or my husband any longer, and I certainly shall not let that anguish jeopardise another pregnancy. For the sake of my child, and even little Marcus, I am determined that Charles and I will recover, and in our happiness have our triumph over her. And I will raise her son to be a much better person than she ever could have been – better than he might have been if she had raised him. He will know love and kindness, and I will devote myself to his happiness even if I give Charles ten children.”

“Because you are a far better woman,” Elizabeth said with a look of awe that made Jane blush.

“I suppose it is not immodest to agree,” Jane laughed. “To be sure, I know I shall love little Marcus more than she ever would have. It is deplorable that she bore a child purely out of avarice, when a child ought to be borne out of love. All children deserve to be truly wanted. And I will never let Marcus feel the sting of his origins – he will never even hear her name spoken. He will be my own, and a credit to his father.”

“Brava, Jane!” Elizabeth wiped tears from her eyes as she beamed up at her sister. “I believe you shall all be the happier for ridding her from your lives forever.”

Jane was bolstered by her sister’s radiant approbation. She stood briskly and smoothed out her skirts before walking over to a basin on her dressing table and splashing her face with cool water. “I believe I must go and speak to Charles before I lose my nerve.”

“I will bring Captain Darcy down to greet the Collinses,” Elizabeth replied, rising from the floor and stretching. “Take your time, my brave sister.”

***

Charles Bingley felt lighter. He felt younger, somehow. A terrible burden had been lifted; his divine angel of a wife had forgiven him. He had fallen to his knees weeping as he begged for forgiveness the moment she entered his chambers, and found she had come ready to bestow mercy he did not deserve. She had held him in her arms, their unborn child between them, as he had confessed everything, and he had been washed clean of his sins.

It was a miracle, and he was the luckiest of men. He was also a monumental fool, for he had not thought her capable of such generosity of spirit. He ought to have known; he had fallen in love with her gentle heart as much as her beautiful face. But had he ever truly known her?

A new Jane had been before him, resplendent in her courageous compassion. For the first time since their marriage, and for some time before, he saw her as she had been when first they met, and yet she was more herself than ever before. Before she had forgiven him, she had forgiven herself, and Charles had never known such inspiring grace as she had shown him. He was more in love with her than he had ever been, not only for the clemency she had bestowed like a holy madonna, but for the newfound magnification of every quality that had drawn him to her in Hertfordshire.

He remained in awe of her throughout the evening, as if seeing her clearly for the first time. Jane was the sum of all things, the gentle creature he had fallen for at first sight, the woman who had suffered and struggled in silence for years, the cheerful girl who had come alive again in the revels of their house party, and the maternal goddess who shone with peace and clarity so brilliantly that he knew he must devote his life to deserving her. To worshiping her.

He had not imagined it would be so easy to recover from the past, but it was certainly easy for him to adore his wife. He wished he could stand up at the altar with her all over again, pledging her his fidelity, his protection, and everything else he longed to give her.

He thought of how she had smiled at him through her tears as he told her that he had always intended to marry her, and how since their first meeting he had been unable to imagine his life without her. And he watched her make merry with their friends and relations all evening, casting her loving glances at him as if to share in the joy that surrounded them. She wished to share a life of such exultant intimacy with him, and he was more resolved than ever that it should be so.

He felt the shame and anguish of the last two years ebb away, until he found he could no longer remember Caroline’s face. She was but a dark cloud that had bullied him for nearly all his life, and for the first time he began to feel free of the grief she had caused him. What had happened at Pemberley had been the culmination of so many years of social climbing, scheming and grasping and sneering. And now, it was as if it had never been.

He saw his life as it could be, brimming with potential for felicity. Surrounded by so many people he was fond of, he thought he might weep at the overpowering sensations of hope and gratitude. His good cheer had been superficial until this day, when he suddenly began to perceive the depth of his affection for his friends and his love for his family.

Will and Richard teased him for his new sentimental philosophy when he told them of it, and Collins waxed poetic in his enthusiasm for Charles’s awakening. He took it all in good humour, but he knew they had long felt things so deeply.

His euphoria was all the greater after the lively meal, when the dozen convivial companions withdrew to the parlour. He could easily imagine that everyone around him was as happy as himself, and he was delighted that they should be so content in his home. Everything was just as he had imagined it would be when he contrived the plan, for he and Jane were reconciled, and his wife’s sisters were well on their way to being happily married ere long.

The Collinses had understood almost immediately that Will and Elizabeth were once again courting, and were eager to help them along. Lydia and Richard had been just as keen, and Charles was pleased to see their efforts united in bringing the pair closer. Georgie, who had been like a sister to him as long as he had known the Darcys, was certainly setting the example of a perfect love match, and the Gardiners were just as delightful.

He was giddy in his joy – how had he never consciously realised how much he enjoyed the happiness of those he loved? It was incredible to him. Though he spoke far less than usual, he was utterly content to laugh and smile as all his favourite people basked in the comfort of being together, and he silently thanked them for filling his home with such pleasant memories. He and Jane would build upon such felicity for many years to come, though today was only the first day of their true and honest union. And it would only ever get better.