32

After Elizabeth Lucas was handed down from her carriage, she reached in to take the twins from their nanny Mrs. Brooks, who then descended and stood at Elizabeth’s side; the two women gazed up at the splendid manor house with matching smiles. “What a lovely home,” Mrs. Brooks sighed.

Indeed it was. The pale stone glowed in the afternoon light, ivy crept lazily up the edifice, and the flowers that surrounded the house swayed in the gentle breeze. It was just the sort of house she had imagined for her elder sister, and it was rendered an even finer sight when Jane and Lydia burst out of the front door.

Lydia squealed, running toward her sister, who had just enough time to hand her children back to their nanny before Lydia hurled herself into Elizabeth’s arms. “Lizzy!”

“I am happy to see you, too, Lydia. But you are hurting me!”

Lydia gave her a squeeze and then released her. “You have grown plump, Lizzy!”

“I gave birth to twins seven months ago, you impertinent creature,” Elizabeth laughed. “But you have grown, too.”

“In everything but tact,” Jane said, approaching at a more sedate pace. “But you look perfectly lovely, Lizzy – truly, you look very well indeed.”

Elizabeth knew what her sisters really meant. She was perhaps a bit curvier than she had been at twenty, but she knew the curves that motherhood had given her were a vast improvement over the gaunt, sickly looking creature she had been when she had married.

“And so are you,” Elizabeth replied, letting her eyes fall on Jane’s swelling belly.

Jane rested her hands there and beamed. “Four more months,” she said softly.

“Do you wish for a boy or a girl?”

For a moment, a dark look passed over Jane’s face, but then she glanced at the twins. “You have been very clever in having one of each – perhaps I might be so lucky. May I?”

Elizabeth nodded and Jane reached for one of the infants. “That is Miss Sophia Catherine. And this is little Bennet William Lucas.”

Jane furrowed her brow as she regarded the child Elizabeth took in her arms. “Named for both grandfathers?”

“And his uncle, I suppose.” Elizabeth looked away, knowing Jane must be thinking of another William, too.

“Oh, I wish Kitty were here already,” Lydia cried.

“She is coming in a fortnight,” Jane said. “But let us show Lizzy into the house, shall we?”

The inside of Cameron Court was just as charming as the exterior. “Oh, Jane,” Elizabeth cried as they explored the rooms on the ground level, “I could not imagine a house more perfectly suited to you. You have my felicitations on finding such a gem.”

“Wait until you see your bedchamber – it is perfectly suited to you,” Jane replied. “You must wish to freshen up. Might I show you?”

Elizabeth nodded, and Jane led her upstairs. Lydia followed, declaring she would take the twins to the nursery to meet their cousin Marcus. “Have a care, Lydia,” Jane said. “You are wearing your favourite dress, and last week he tore the lace on your yellow frock.”

“Yes, but he is such a sweet little angel that I instantly forgave him,” Lydia said. “Will you come and see him once you are settled, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth looked to Jane, whose face gave nothing away. “We shall come once Lizzy has rested a bit, and then take tea in the parlour,” Jane replied, a smile tugging at her lips.

Unable to help herself, Elizabeth arched an eyebrow and asked, “Lydia, you do look very well in that day dress. Is there any particular reason you have worn it today?”

Jane grinned and said, “The colonel arrived about an hour ago – the gentlemen are out riding presently.”

As Lydia blushed and shrugged her shoulders, Elizabeth eyed her elder sister with mirth. “I knew it! I suspected you meant to do a little matchmaking.”

“A little, yes.”

Lydia smiled brightly. “I wish you every success in your endeavours, Sister.” Jane and Elizabeth laughed at Lydia’s frankness, and Lydia added, “But there is another fellow who owns a piece of my heart, and one more who has recently captivated my affections, as well as a certain young lady, and so I must be off to the nursery.”

Elizabeth grinned, delighted with her younger sister’s antics. “Shall I tell the colonel you are going to make an excellent mother someday?”

Lydia stood up a little straighter as she began to walk away. She looked back over her shoulder and said, “I am perfectly capable of making my manifold attractions known to him, and I am sure you shall have other things to occupy you.”

As Lydia stalked away, Jane and Elizabeth leaned into one another, chortling at their sister’s bold candour. Elizabeth supposed Lydia had meant that Elizabeth must fully heal the breach between herself and Jane, and then begin to help Jane repair her marriage. But for a brief moment Elizabeth wondered if the colonel had come alone, or perhaps brought his cousin. But no, he had broken with Charles. That was a shame, but it was certainly for the best that she not encounter her first love at such a time.

Jane led Elizabeth into the bedchamber that had been appointed for her particular use whenever she came to Cameron Court. It was spacious and elegant, appointed in shades of phthalo green, sage, and bronze, and a fire crackled in one corner of the room. The curtains were drawn back, the same shade of green as the wilderness beyond the wide windows. Sunlight poured in, gleaming on the polished oak bed frame and the mirror set above an ornate vanity.

Best of all, there was a stack of books waiting for her perusal on the bedside table; on closer inspection, Elizabeth could see that Jane had already selected a few of her favourites and procured ample candles for late night reading.

“Oh, Jane, it is breathtaking,” Elizabeth said with a sigh of contentment. “I shall hardly wish to leave this room.”

“I am so glad you like it,” Jane said, smiling at Elizabeth’s approbation. “Would you like to sit with me by the fire? The view of the pond from that corner is a fine one at this time of day.”

Elizabeth traversed a very plush carpet to join her sister, and they sat in a pair of brown leather wingback chairs very like the ones that had been in their father’s study. She regarded the view out the windows; sunlight danced on the surface of the pond, and beyond it lay a sprawling hillside that ascended into a dense wilderness. Near the tree line, there was a small cottage in the final stages of completion – the dower house.

“I am so pleased you are here,” Jane said.

Elizabeth nodded, her attention briefly diverted when she observed three figures on horseback riding near the site of the new construction. But she would not allow herself to wonder if the third was perhaps a steward of one of the builders, gesturing to the building. She certainly would not wonder if she and Jane had not been the only ones to reconcile.

“I am pleased to be here, my visit is long overdue,” Elizabeth said.

There was a moment of awkward silence, for while there was much to be said between the two sisters, neither of them seemed to know how to begin. At length, Elizabeth asked, “Have you been terribly unhappy?”

At the same moment, Jane spoke, too. “Have you been happy, Lizzy?”

They both fell silent, and Elizabeth motioned for her sister to continue. “You look very well,” Jane said. “I wish to know that you recovered yourself after – that you were happy with Olly in the year you had together. I have felt myself to blame for it, saying there were rumours of an engagement between you when I spoke to Captain Darcy in Kent.”

“Those rumours had existed for years, and it was Mamma who perpetuated them. You are not to blame, and it was hardly a punishment. I was happy, Jane, truly. I would have been content to grow old with Olly, he was such a dear man.”

Jane gave a weak smile. “But you were forced to reside at Netherfield, amongst so many reminders of… of a time when you loved another. How could you forget him? Did it not – did you not often wonder….”

“Of course I did,” Elizabeth breathed, surprised at her own admission. “For a time, I felt as if every time I turned a corner I was assailed with some painful recollection. The library was particularly difficult to enter, and even when I had occasion to go down to the kitchen to speak with Cook….”

She gave a sad little laugh. “I never told you of it, but the night that… everything happened…. Captain Darcy and I went for a walk and then snuck into the kitchen to pilfer some bread and cheese, and we danced around like fools.”

“That is a beautiful memory,” Jane said wistfully.

“And I learned to cherish those happy recollections, but they faded in time as Olly and I made our own memories together. He was a good husband, Jane. And he was an excellent father. He adored the twins. I regret nothing that has happened, even what is painful to dwell upon. I have been fortunate, I think, to have known a wild passion as well as a sedate and easy affection. I have loved Olly as the dearest of friends since we were children, and I believe that love would have endured, if we had been given all the time in the world.”

“And what of the wild passion? Would that have endured, had things gone differently? Had I not spoiled everything….”

Elizabeth considered, but the reflection made her uneasy. She did not answer her sister, but instead said, “You deserve an easy and comfortable love, too, Jane.”

Jane opened her mouth to speak, then fell silent. She did the same again, and finally managed a response. “I had thought Olly preferred – he was a proper husband?”

“He told me I was the only woman in the world he could ever love, and he was true to me. I believe he would have been faithful all his days, despite….” Elizabeth stopped herself. Fidelity was perhaps not the best topic to broach with her poor sister. “At any rate, I became with child so quickly that we did not have to continue for long in our attempts to make an heir. But our intimate friendship was pleasant even after that.”

Jane stared at the fire as she considered. “You are fortunate indeed, Lizzy, though you deserve a great deal more happiness, and far more than I do. I should be content to know either of the kinds of love you describe, but I have had neither the wild passion nor the easy companionship. And I know it is all my own fault.”

Elizabeth did not contradict her sister, but she took Jane’s hand in hers. “You have admitted to your share of the wrongdoing, Jane, but Charles has not. And in allowing you to anguish over that child, he has deprived himself of unwavering affection and adoration. I know you to be capable of such feelings, and I believe that he is, as well. You cannot allow this distance between you, when I believe you were both most sincerely attached to one another from the earliest moments of your acquaintance.”

A few silent tears slid down Jane’s cheeks. “I have convinced myself that I deserved his infidelity, after I colluded with Caroline. And I love little Marcus, truly I do. But I do not know how to stop tormenting myself!”

“What can I do to help?”

“You have done a great deal already by forgiving me, and by coming to visit,” Jane said. “You are truly a superior woman, Lizzy, for giving me such grace. I only need to believe that I deserve it. In all the time I have been married, I have never let myself enjoy it, yet I love him so dearly. And I do not think he knows it – he cannot know how my heart is full of him, else he would not have….”

“But you accomplish nothing by punishing yourself,” Elizabeth said. “Can you not take some of my courage and speak to him directly?”

Jane laughed ruefully. “That is just what I desire. You must help me think on what I am to say to him, and how I should act. I know that having you here will be just what I need. I have to let go of the past.”

As Jane wept into her hands, Elizabeth got up and stood before her sister, stroking Jane’s flaxen hair and murmuring assurances that all would be well. She refused to look out the window at the three riders approaching.

When Jane had regained her composure, she wiped at her face and declared she would be better prepared to discuss her marriage another time; at present, she wished to take tea in the parlour with her sisters and think of happier things. They collected Lydia from the nursery, where Elizabeth was introduced to her nephew, a smiling red-haired boy whose resemblance to Charles was striking in both appearance and friendly manners.

The three sisters chatted of idle things, the ever-fascinating doings of the Collinses, Charlotte’s recent marriage, and their Gardiner relations. Half an hour passed quickly, and then the gentlemen returned. Three gentlemen entered the room, and Elizabeth was obliged to seize both of her sisters by the hand at the sight of Captain Darcy.

***

Richard Fitzwilliam had never been so excessively diverted in all his life. The dinner had been a strange one, to be sure. Bingley and his wife had been affable enough that morning, but now Mrs. Bingley would hardly look at her husband, who pretended naught was amiss with forced cheer. At times there seemed to be genuine tension between them, and yet Richard had begun to suppose that there was some exaggeration in it, at least on Bingley’s part, for the man was often looking to Darcy and Elizabeth for help in amusing his wife and guests.

But Darcy and Elizabeth were even more awkward. They gazed at one another a great deal, though somehow never at the same moment. They spoke mostly nonsense, giving such odd answers as to make it evident that neither was attending the conversation whatsoever, and Richard relished the chance to get them both to agree to increasingly ridiculous observations on a variety of topics.

At times the Bingleys appeared almost amused, exchanging shy glances whenever Darcy or Elizabeth said anything amiss, which was not seldom. They must have all been thanking their lucky stars that Lydia Bennet, God bless the buxom beauty, carried the conversation with aplomb.

She pertly ignored all of Richard’s raillery, and so he resolved to plague her with more of it in the drawing room that evening. The conversation was foundering. Bingley sat with Elizabeth, and Jane with Darcy; the four of them all looked as if they would be grateful should the floor suddenly open up and swallow them whole.

Miss Bennet had gone to the pianoforte to examine some music, for she had applied herself to her lessons and wished to delight them with the fruits of her labour. Richard would have been content to listen to her read laundry lists aloud for all he cared, for she was utterly enchanting in her style of address.

He had seen her in London and been impressed by her improvement in comportment since she was in Kent, and here at Cameron Court, which she considered home, she exuded mature confidence. It suited her, even though she was still prone to giggling and flirting. In the latter, she had definitely improved, and even her laughter had taken a more musical tone.

“What will you play?” He thumbed through some sheet music, and before she could answer, he leaned closer and whispered, “And more importantly, what do you think the Bingleys are playing at?”

“I daresay you shall elaborate even if I do not ask you what you mean,” she said with a bright, beguiling smile.

“I daresay it is hardly necessary – we are both intelligent enough to understand what they are up to.”

She did not simper at the compliment, but regarded him merely as if he spoke the truth. Lydia Bennet was aware enough of her own allure to nearly terrify him, and he enjoyed the sensation. “Indeed, you must know better than I what has passed between them.”

“Things have not been well between my eldest sister and her husband for quite some time,” she said softly. “Yet I think you allude to the fact that they were cheerful enough together this morning, and yet this evening they have behaved as if they require assistance from their companions to even be in one another’s presence. No doubt you think it both curious and convenient that their need for such assistance puts Lizzy and your cousin in a very interesting situation.”

Clever minx! Richard smiled at her with open admiration. “It is good to know I am not simply carried away by my own fancy.”

“I have been so many times; you need not shy away from that experience,” Miss Bennet said drily. “But it would certainly seem like they have decided to leverage their discontent, and perhaps even remedy it, by playing matchmaker… for Lizzy and Captain Darcy.”

As Lydia ran her slender fingers over a page of music, Richard took a step nearer and pretended to examine it. But he could not tear his eyes from her arch expression. “Their choice of guests would indeed indicate such intentions. And pray, what do you think of their chances in succeeding?”

“I know a little of what passed between Lizzy and Captain Darcy, for Kitty cannot keep a secret.”

“Neither can her husband,” Richard replied.

She pressed her lips together in a teasing smirk. “Perhaps the real question is, what do we do with this information?”

“Why, we improve upon the Bingleys’ plan, of course.” Richard ran his hands over the keys of the instrument and plucked out a jaunty string of notes, eliciting a breathy laugh from his companion.

“It is a fine scheme,” she mused. “Jane and Charles are suddenly incapable of holding a conversation with one another without their aid, and at present it seems they are both intent on boring their companions so thoroughly that our star-crossed lovers have resigned themselves to gazing longingly at one another from across the room. It is a good enough beginning, I suppose. Do you believe they are still in love with one another?”

“Which couple do you refer to? But to either, I should say yes,” Richard quipped. “Bingley spoke of his troubles when we were out riding, and I suppose you have observed enough from residing with them. Indeed, it is fortunate that we are both so well-informed, for I believe I understand the sentiments of both gentlemen well enough, and you must surely know the feelings of your sisters. Mrs. Lucas had suffered a vast deal, and Mrs. Bingley was not served well by her unfortunate friendship with a certain person.”

“The harridan whom I had the misfortune of staying with in Brighton?” Lydia grimaced.

Richard wondered if it had occurred to her that the red-haired child Bingley had insisted on adopting would have been born around the time of Caroline’s death. It was not his place to say, but he could certainly acknowledge the damage done by Mrs. Bingley’s association with her. “She was a wretched menace,” he groused. “I know she conspired to keep them apart when your sister was in Kent two years ago.”

“And Jane wishes to put it right. As their guests and loving relations, we ought to do what we can to help.”

“It is a matter of some delicacy,” he said. “I have no doubt our services shall be necessary, but we must act with deliberation – for once I have no wish to make mischief.”

“I quite agree,” she replied. “While mischief has its merits, I am a romantic at heart. I wish them all success; we have all endured a great deal, you know, and deserve our share of happiness.”

“I suggest we revisit the matter and discuss their progress amongst ourselves – we shall go along with the Bingleys’ little scheme until it becomes necessary for us to improve upon it.”

Miss Bennet gave him another bright smile. “As I have no doubt we shall. How fortunate they are, to have such attentive companions.”

Richard grinned back at her. “I must say, Miss Bennet, you have altered a great deal since first we met; it is to your credit.”

“A great deal of time has passed since then,” she said, her brow furrowing. “I have lost my father and left my childhood home. I have witnessed my sister Kitty flourish in a marriage I would never have imagined could please her. I have found I missed my sister Mary and her moral platitudes, which now I treasure. I have seen Jane pine for a man who is hers by law, and I have learned a great deal about love from Lizzy, too. I cannot laugh at the things that used to amuse me, but my sisters have all shaped me into a woman who can see the world for what it is. I do mean to make merry as I can, but I find I can only enjoy life’s diversions when the people I love are content.”

She held his gaze, completely unaware of how deeply her words affected him – deepened his regard for her sensibility. But then her countenance shifted, as if she did not wish to be so serious. “I presume you wished to pay a compliment in observing how I have grown, but really, I was not so very bad before.”

“You were quite the terror, I assure you. I feared you would ensnare me in a net of ribbons and lace, and hold me captive while you subjected me to a reading of your diary over tea and scones.”

Miss Bennet chortled and shook her head. “I should never let a gentleman read my diary, it is far too shocking! Nor would I ever waste ribbons and lace with such rough usage – abominable!”

“Shall I figure into your diary, Miss Bennet?”

“Pages and pages,” she said with another arch look. “‘Colonel Fitzwilliam vexed us all with his incessant charms at dinner, though none but myself paid him any heed at all. He appeared accustomed to such neglect, though it provoked him to attach himself to me for the duration of the evening. We subsequently hatched a plot to make all our companions violently in love with one another by this time tomorrow.’”

He laughed. “Scandalous indeed.”

“But I wonder what I should find in your diary,” she said with a look that would have undone a lesser man. “Sometimes you have such a wicked look about you, as if you know some secret that I do not.”

He was certainly not going to own that her observation was correct, though he admired her for discerning so much. He held her gaze, betraying nothing.

She crinkled her face as if a series of alluring expressions might tempt him to divulge. “I should make an excellent confidante.”

“But I would never share a secret that was not my own.”

“Then you do know a secret? Wicked man! But alas, I have no secrets of any kind. I am an entirely open book.”

She was an absolute weapon, that was what Lydia Bennet was. He chuckled. “Open books are the easiest to enjoy. Let us read along together, and see what we discover.” He tipped his head to gesture to their companions. “I believe we shall know how to act.”

Miss Bennet gazed across the room at the four miserable people they cared for so deeply. “I daresay it will be most enjoyable for everybody.”