46. Chapter Forty-Six

December 10, 1812 Longbourn Jane

T he duties involved in caring for the estate were greater than Jane had ever thought. She woke early each day, taking a tray in her room as she reviewed household matters under the purview of the mistress. After that, she came downstairs and went to the study where she would review the estate books. Expenses were modest since the household was not entertaining. Meetings with the steward happened almost daily as she continued to learn about the nuances involved in Longbourn’s management. Tenant disputes, field rotations, and more were evaluated and then discussed before decisions were made. By tea, Jane usually wished only to hide in her chambers with her son.

Henry was a delight. He did not look at all like his father. Mrs. Bennet claimed that the babe favored his mother greatly, from his fair hair to his happy disposition. There appeared to be something of his father in his ears, growing more pronounced as he aged, but no one mentioned that.

A few days after first meeting Mr. Bingley atop Oakham Mount, he came to call upon the residents of Longbourn, accompanied by his aunt. Mrs. Mildred Bingley seemed to be a cheerful sort, and Jane enjoyed meeting her immensely.

“I am very glad to meet you, Mrs. Collins,” the lady said as they chatted. “My nephew has told me so much about you. I can see now that he did not prevaricate in the least.”

“You are too kind.” Jane added a lump of sugar to her tea, stirring carefully so as not to spill. “I knew Mr. Bingley had family in the north, but I never imagined I would have the opportunity to be introduced.”

“Yes, Caroline would like to have it that way. It infuriates her that her brother maintains the connection to the Scarborough Bingleys.” Mrs. Bingley chuckled good-naturedly. “She is very set on separating herself from her roots.”

“My uncle is in trade. He is one of the best men of my acquaintance.” Caroline Bingley was a fool for putting so much stock in money and status. Neither brought happiness—not true happiness, anyway.

“How did you find my nieces, Mrs. Collins?”

Jane kept a neutral expression. “They were amiable whilst they stayed at Netherfield Park. I have only seen them briefly since they departed last winter.”

“You are dissembling, madam.” Mrs. Bingley laughed. “I am well aware of how my nieces likely behaved. They look down their noses at their own family. They likely behaved much worse toward strangers.”

“I meant no offense.” Jane shrugged and took a sip of her tea. The Bingley sisters had fooled her then, but now she had more awareness of their judging nature and condescending attitudes toward those they considered to be inferior, and she had more acceptance of people’s foibles and faults. “I am certain Miss Bingley will find what she seeks eventually. It is a pity she did not find it in Hertfordshire, for I am partial to this county.”

Mrs. Bingley’s conversation pleased Jane, and she felt disappointed when the lady’s attention turned elsewhere. She rose and crossed the room to sit with Mrs. Bennet, who had deigned to come down for the call. Mr. Bingley quickly took his aunt’s place beside Jane.

“How do you fare in learning estate management?” he asked. “I am sorry we were not able to come before today. Matters of business kept me away.”

Jane smiled. It had always been easy to fall into conversation with Mr. Bingley, and today was no different. “Estate concerns have kept me occupied as well,” she said. “I confess that being both master and mistress wearies me. I cannot turn the entire thing over to the steward, though, for I wish to understand how to manage everything so that I can teach my son one day.”

“I would like to meet him.” Mr. Bingley blurted the words anxiously, reaching out to take Jane’s hand. “I do not even know his name.”

Jane stilled. Her gaze fell to her feet, and she hesitated. What will he think of me, naming another man’s child for him? Slowly, she raised her gaze to look at him. “I named him Henry,” she finally said.

His eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “Henry?” he repeated in awe. “Did you… do I presume too much—was it for me you named him?”

She smiled a tentative smile. “Do you despise me now, sir?”

“No! In fact, my feelings are quite the opposite. I am deeply honored to have been granted such distinction.” He still held her hand, and he lifted it to his lips, kissing it gently. “When might I meet him?”

“Soon,” Jane promised.

In truth, Elizabeth’s words about marrying before mourning ended had been a constant fixture in her mind for several days. Indeed, the more Jane thought of them, the more inclined she felt to seize her happiness. Who would judge her if she threw off her mourning clothes early?

The crux of the matter lay with Mr. Bingley. Had he truly changed enough? His intentions were clear: the man had renewed the lease on Netherfield Park before he knew that Jane would return to Hertfordshire. He had returned to his estate and become a true master to the tenants and the staff. And he had sent his sister to live with the Hursts. Was it enough?

She did not know, but she knew that she still loved him. Her regard had never faded, despite her attempts to lock it away in the furthest reaches of her heart. She had resigned herself to a lifetime without him, and now here he was, attempting to woo her again. She did not think she had the desire, let alone the will, to resist.

At this first sign of welcome, Mr. Bingley had become a frequent caller. He came to Longbourn thrice a week, and ‘coincidentally’ met Jane on walks on other days. Their conversations were more serious than they had been a year ago, and as they learned more about each other, their tender feelings grew.

“Will you tell me of Mr. Collins?” he asked one day. “You do not speak of him, though you talk about Henry.” He had still not met her son. Jane had not made a decision about whether she would flout convention or not, and until then, she did not want her child to form a bond with a man who may not be there forever.

“There is not much to tell. What do you remember about him? You met him briefly last autumn.”

Mr. Bingley shrugged. “I hardly remember anything other than my sister’s complaints about him ruining the ball with his clumsiness. Oh, and Darcy said the man introduced himself.”

Jane laughed. “Yes, we were engaged in pleasanter pursuits that night. In truth, there was little to admire about my husband. He was a nonsensical man, content to lavish attention and praise upon his patroness. He did speak kindly to me, and he always arranged little compliments or surprises. Once, he brought me a posy of flowers, the first that bloomed in his garden. But his first love was Lady Catherine, and I could not compare to her.”

She sighed. Her eyes became misty. “I might have grown more fond of him… in time. My propensity to see the best in people would have seen to that. But it had not been long enough. I suppose I shall never know.”

“Does it pain you to know your son will never know his father?” Mr. Bingley spoke gently, the care and concern in his voice obvious.

“In a way, it does. He would have adored Henry. Then again, he is a very easy child to love.” She smiled, picturing her cherubic son, with his golden hair and blue eyes, smiling his toothless grin.

“Perhaps he will know a father someday.” Mr. Bingley reached out and took her hand as he often did, squeezing it gently.

“Perhaps,” was all the reply she offered.

On December tenth, Georgiana Darcy arrived, her companion and maid in tow. The coachman and the footmen joined the other members of Darcy’s staff that now resided at Longbourn. Mary, Kitty, and Lydia surrounded their friend excitedly, leading her off after only a brief greeting to Elizabeth.

Mrs. Darcy now had a noticeable bulge beneath her dress, and she had shared the news of her pregnancy when Lydia had brashly asked her sister about it. Elizabeth had blushed and laughed, sharing in the excitement her sisters expressed. All had rejoiced except Mrs. Bennet. She had only said rudely, “You best hope you have a boy. Mr. Darcy will never forgive you if you do not birth him an heir.”

Mama’s continued anger toward Elizabeth baffled Jane. One would think that having a daughter so well married would have washed away any feelings of ill use or bitterness, but Mrs. Bennet continued to blame Lizzy for everything, from her removal from the mistress’s chamber to Jane’s change in character. Jane did her best to divert her mother’s ire, but the matron insisted on having her say.

Elizabeth came to her one day after Georgiana’s arrival. Christmas would soon be upon them, and preparations were underway for a quiet season with only family present. “Darcy and I plan to move to Netherfield Park after the new year,” she told Jane. “We shall stay as long as you need us to, but my husband wishes for a more private setting as we prepare to welcome our child to the world.”

“I understand. Did I not flee to Pemberley for the same reason?” Jane teased her sister gently, and they laughed together. “Has Darcy approached Mr. Bingley yet?”

“He has. They rode out together this morning. My husband asked if we might prevail upon his hospitality, and Mr. Bingley accepted.”

Jane nodded. “I am pleased you will remain close.”

“As am I. My son or daughter will need to meet his favorite aunt as soon as may be.” Elizabeth’s joking subsided, and she grew serious. “I wish to see you as happy as I am,” she said at length. “I have noted that you are more welcoming toward Mr. Bingley.”

“I love him, Lizzy.” Jane looked imploringly at her sister. “How can it be right? I have barely mourned my husband. I have borne Mr. Collins’s child. Yet, my heart belongs irrevocably to Mr. Bingley. Is it right to throw off my mourning clothes so soon? Will society not judge me harshly for it? These same questions, asked over and over again in my mind, have not yet been answered.”

“And I repeat, our neighbors might raise their eyebrows, but I do not see them casting you aside for choosing to provide your son with a father. If they cannot keep their meddlesome gossip to themselves, you are more than welcome to visit Pemberley again.” Elizabeth hugged her sister. “Do not care so much what others think. Listen to your heart and act in the manner that will ensure your future happiness, regardless of any other consideration.”

She pulled away. “If you do this, you will not fail to find felicity. This I promise you.”

Jane nodded. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, which had become unaccountably wet with tears. “I promise. I have pondered your advice at length. You know I have always considered you to be most knowledgeable when dispensing good sense. Indeed, I think it would take very little inducement for me to accept Mr. Bingley now.”

“Then you are decided? You will have him?”

Jane smiled tremulously. “If he asks, I will not say no.”

“Will you tell him that you are willing to hear his proposals?” Elizabeth asked curiously.

Jane considered this. “I think… I do not know. He is being very kind and has not pressed. He knows I am not ready. And I believe he knows me well enough to decipher when I am ready to hear him.”

Matters between Jane and Mr. Bingley continued to go well. Mrs. Bingley and her nephew spent Christmas Day at Longbourn. Jane did not care that it flouted convention. She felt only joy that those she loved were with her during the holy season. She shyly gifted him with a new handkerchief embroidered with his initials, and he in turn gave her a lovely rose crafted from pieces of silk. “My aunt made it,” he confessed.

“A flower that will never wilt. I love it.” And she did. She put it beside her bed where she would see it often, a reminder of his love.

Twelfth Night drew nearer and the day before, unexpected guests arrived at Netherfield. Jane learned from Elizabeth, who had it from Darcy, that Miss Bingley and the Hursts had come unannounced, claiming that London was far too empty. Miss Bingley attempted to take control of the house, only to be soundly disabused of her presumption by her brother.

He came to call later that afternoon. His aunt did not accompany him, and Jane felt rather surprised that he did not also have Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst with him.

“My sisters have come,” he said as they walked in the little wilderness.

“So, I have been told.” Jane smiled in commiseration.

“Darcy told his wife, no doubt.” He shrugged. “We met whilst riding today.”

“Yes, and in turn, Lizzy told me. What are you to do?” Jane eyed him speculatively. Would he cast his family out or welcome them?

“I told Caroline and Louisa upon their arrival that they are welcome as long as they respect me as master of my house. Aunt Mildred is my hostess, and I have already chastised Caroline once for attempting to usurp her.”

“Have you told them you have been calling at Longbourn?” she asked tentatively. The Bingley sisters had opposed their brother’s courtship once. Surely that had not changed.

“I did when I departed. Caroline attempted to accompany me when she learned that Miss Darcy was here.” He pitched his voice higher, mimicking his sister. ‘Oh, Charles, how devious of you to court Miss Darcy away from town! I never thought you were so clever!’”

Jane laughed. “That was a passable imitation!” she cried. “What did you say?”

Mr. Bingley grew serious, and he gazed deeply into Jane’s eyes. “I told her I was not courting Miss Darcy, reminding Caroline that the young lady was not even out, and said that I went to Longbourn to see Mrs. Collins. And when she flew into a tirade, the footmen hauled her to her chambers. I have rescinded her welcome. She and the Hursts will be leaving tomorrow.”

Jane stared at him in awe. It was the middle of the winter, and travel would be slow. Mr. Bingley’s insistence on his sisters’ good behavior and their inability to comply meant they would be forced to move on despite it all. Though Jane felt sorry that they must be subjected to hours in a cold carriage, she felt only pride. Her Mr. Bingley had, indeed, come into his own. He no longer relied wholly on others.

“You sent them away… for me?” she whispered.

“I would do anything for you. My previous actions separated us these many months. Had I but exerted myself, we could have been married for almost a year now. Henry might have been my son and not Mr. Collins’s. Dearest Jane, I love you most ardently. I have been an unmitigated fool. These last weeks in your company have only compounded my affections. I know that you are still in mourning, and we need not publicly announce anything. But I must ask: please, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Jane sobbed and threw her arms around him. “Yes,” she cried, not even attempting to quiet her tears. “I love you, Mr. Bingley— Charles. ”

He let out a happy shout and swung her around in a circle. “My dearest Jane,” he said when they stood still again. He leaned closer and kissed her gently.

Never before had Jane felt the intensity that his kiss elicited. Fire shot through her, and she returned it enthusiastically. It felt very different from what she had experienced with Mr. Collins. Her husband’s kisses were sloppy and awkward. This very different sensation reawakened something inside her, and she grasped onto the feeling, swearing in her thoughts never to let it go again. She felt alive as she never had before.

Wrapping her arms around him and leaning into his chest, she breathed deeply, luxuriating in the bliss that consumed her. “I shall enter half mourning in a matter of weeks,” she said quietly. “Let us marry then.”

He stiffened and pulled away, searching her face. “In truth?” he asked.

She smiled and nodded. “In truth.”

“We can purchase a license!” he cried excitedly.

“That seems appropriate,” Jane reasoned. “I shall be acting scandalously as it is, marrying before my mourning has finished. Best keep the ceremony to only family.”

They returned to the house, and Jane requested that her son be brought down. As she introduced Mr. Bingley to the child, she referred to him as ‘Papa,’ her heart bursting at the thought of the man she loved raising her first-born son.

“Do you resent me for waiting to have you meet him?” she asked, watching Mr. Bingley bounce Henry on his knee.

“Not at all. I confess, I felt great envy knowing that Darcy had held the babe, and I had never even seen him, but the wait was well worth it. I knew that you needed to be ready first.”

“And now I am.” She rested a hand on his arm.

They sat on the settee together, heads bent close as they admired the child in Bingley’s arm. Our son, Jane thought to herself.

Elizabeth and Darcy found them in that repose, and the former’s lips split into a wide grin upon observing their happy countenances.

“I take it that you have news to share.” Darcy raised his eyebrows at Bingley, waggling them in a manner Jane had never seen before. Highly amused, she burst into giggles, leaning her head against Charles’s shoulders.

“Jane has agreed to be my wife,” he said proudly. “Henry shall be my son, and we will live happily ever after.”

“It is very like a fairy-tale, is it not?” Elizabeth asked, looping her arm through Darcy’s.

“It is.” Jane agreed wholeheartedly. “Charles will purchase a license. We shall marry quietly at the end of the month.”

“Then I might stand up with you!” her sister cried joyfully. “Oh!” She put a hand on her stomach. “I think your niece or nephew is expressing their congratulations.”

They laughed and commenced making plans for a quiet wedding. They would marry on Tuesday the twenty-first, the day after Jane entered half mourning.

“We will delay our removal to Netherfield Park, then,” Darcy said decidedly.

“Nonsense! We shall simply put you in the guest wing across the house. Jane and I will have plenty of privacy.” Charles grinned and bounced the baby again. “Henry and his nurse will come, too, of course.”

Lost in her bliss, Jane closed her eyes, breathing in Charles’s scent. He smelled of lemon grass and basil— an odd combination, but it soothed her. If this is bliss, may it never end. Charles departed soon after, determined to see his sisters gone from Netherfield Park. They were to leave the next day, but he wished to be certain they were preparing and that there was no cause for them to delay.

Jane took her son back to Mrs. Moore, for he fussed greatly in want of food. Afterwards, she retired to her chambers. All the excitement had tired her, and she wished to rest before dinner. As she drifted off to sleep, she thought, Never could I have imagined that my prudent decision would lead me down such an unpredictable path. Oh, how I love him! She fell asleep smiling.