Longbourn to London (18 page)

Georgiana looked at Elizabeth, who wore an expression both compassionate and sad. Elizabeth was near tears, but Georgiana could not yet find it in herself to pity Caroline. If she thought Caroline truly broken-hearted, she might have summoned empathy, but Georgiana believed Caroline was merely thwarted in her social scheming, thus angered to the point of rage. She simply nodded at Elizabeth, took the tea tray and entered the room.

Caroline cried and tossed upon her bed. Jane stood aside, quickly discerning that she brought Caroline no consolation. Louisa sat on the bed, whispering in a soothing manner, and managed to get Caroline to take most of a cup of tea since it had been provided by Georgiana.

Caroline eventually grew still and sleepy. She glanced at Jane. “I am sorry, dear, sweet Jane,” she said in a sluggish voice. “I have underestimated you. Please understand, it was never my intent to make you an adversary.”

Jane nodded. “You brother loves you, Caroline, but you have tried him to his limits, and he will not be pleased to learn of this. I shall try to intercede for you, but you may need to leave for a time. Prepare yourself.”

“Thank you, Jane.” Caroline turned to Georgiana. “You cannot imagine my shame, Miss Darcy, that you have witnessed my undoing. What you and your brother will think, I know not.”

Georgiana could find no forgiveness, but she thought of her brother and what he would want her to do. Loving Elizabeth had made him kinder. “Miss Bingley, you need to rest, and you do not need to worry about anyone’s thoughts. But please, settle your own; my brother will forgive you, as will Elizabeth.” She did not mention herself; she did not wish to lie. “But you must control your feelings and forgive yourself. We, all of us, court shame and are challenged at some time.”

Caroline started to cry silently. Louisa cooed to her but looked at Jane and Georgiana, and they understood it was time for Bingley’s sisters to be alone.

Elizabeth waited in the hall and stopped pacing when her dearest and her newest sisters emerged from the bedroom, affected by the churning chaos of Caroline’s emotions. Elizabeth was alarmed that she had forgotten Darcy’s letter, now shoved in her pocket. She was afflicted by an odd sense that she had somehow betrayed him with carelessness for allowing his words to fall into Caroline’s malevolent hands. Such were her thoughts as the three women embraced each other, and Elizabeth finally broke down. She tried mightily to suppress sobs. Jane and Georgiana were quick to guide her to the room she would occupy that night.

“Oh, Jane, Georgiana. How will he forgive me?”

“Lizzy!” Jane sat on the bed next to Elizabeth and rubbed her sister’s hands vigorously. “What is there to forgive? You were not careless. We must admit the entire fault lies with Caroline. That much is clear. She had every opportunity to return the letter to you or to me. Instead she got me out of the room as quickly as she could, and sought to form a conspiracy with Louisa. Fortunately, Louisa is good at heart—truly she is, Lizzy—and she retrieved the letter before Caroline could read much of it aloud. Have you read it?”

Elizabeth shook her head.

“Do so now, Lizzy. I heard her read the first sentences and it is such a beautiful expression of his devotion that even Caroline could not continue reading. In the face of such love, she had to admit her failure, which unleashed her rage.”

With trembling hands, Elizabeth drew the letter from her pocket. It was not in her nature to be secretive with Jane. Georgiana sat to her right and Elizabeth supposed the younger woman already knew many of her secrets. “Do you mind if I read it aloud? I am sure he is not improper… ‘The first letter you have ever written to me is in my hands. I have not set it down since opening it, as it is now my dearest possession. Your words have given me such happiness, I must respond immediately; I would not have you in any suspense over their delightful effect on me.’”

Elizabeth could read no more and held the letter to her chest. Finally, she whispered, “Is he not the best of men?”

Jane nodded to Georgiana and said to Elizabeth, “We shall let you finish this in private. We shall be in the drawing room awaiting Charles and the colonel. I would not have Charles hear of this event from Mr. Hurst. Please join us when you have finished.”

Elizabeth smiled wanly at Jane and Georgiana. “Thank you. I shall not be but a few minutes.” She returned to Darcy’s words. The letter was everything she hoped it would be. He did not think the worst of her for having written in so forthright a manner—in fact, quite the opposite. She dried her tears, and knew Darcy would see this trying afternoon for what it was—the final act of Caroline’s farcical one-sided courtship.

***

In London, Darcy’s business with the jewellers went well. The emerald ring would be perfect as Elizabeth’s betrothal ring. The jewellers ensured the setting was secure, cleaned and polished the stone, and returned the ring to Darcy in a brown velvet box.

He planned to give it to her as soon as they were together again, and he thought perhaps he might even preface the gift with a third proposal. His second proposal, Darcy still found wanting, though it certainly had the desired effect. He had merely stated that feelings he had at the time of the first proposal had not changed, which was hardly true as his devotion to her had become much deeper, joined as it was with gratitude. He had been warmed, and much relieved, by her uncharacteristically inarticulate but nevertheless positive reply. He now wished he had thought to bring this ring with him.

The diamond ring would be reset with emeralds encircling it, and he would give it to her at Pemberley in the summer. He had an idea about enhancing his mother’s pink pearls and those would be ready for the wedding night. Darcy had taken a bag of loose pearls, and wished for them to be drilled and put onto golden hairpins for Elizabeth to wear for the wedding. Much to Darcy’s surprise, the jeweller had slightly larger pearls already made up in such a fashion. He purchased a set to be sent to her directly by the jeweller’s special courier with a note from Darcy. They even had a small room with just a chair and table where gentlemen such as he might compose a gift card in private, on the jeweller’s stationary.

17 November 1812
Grandison & Co. Jewellers, Ltd.
Kensington, London

Dearest Elizabeth,

Several times I have told you how beautiful I thought you on the night of the Netherfield Ball. If you have not yet made other arrangements, I put this quite forward suggestion to you—knowing you may think it improper but also knowing you will try to humour your adoring bridegroom—that your hair be styled as it was the night of the ball and adorned with these pearls.

I know the custom is for brides to wear bonnets or veils or—horror of horrors—a conglomeration of both. Please give my suggestion your fondest consideration, but if you cannot find it in your dear heart to fly in the face of convention, please accept them anyway, knowing in our future life together, you will have many occasions when they may be of use. In any case, you will be my beautiful bride.

With deepest love,
F. Darcy

***

The evening at Netherfield passed more calmly than the first hour but was not without its trials. Bingley was mortified when he learned of Caroline’s actions. Elizabeth was amazed he could be so disturbed— not supposing the always-ebullient Bingley had a breaking point— but was not aware of all the slights and insults Caroline had been spitting at her with unveiled contempt, and even at Darcy for appearing so besotted. Netherfield seemed to bring out the worst in Caroline Bingley.

Colonel Fitzwilliam watched the family drama develop with no little concern and now realised that Jane Bennet was bringing more civil relations to her marriage than was Charles Bingley. He intended to write Darcy and say as much. The colonel was most impressed with Jane and was sorry he had not accompanied Darcy to Netherfield a year ago. As the story went, Bingley fell in love with Jane at first sight, and the colonel could well believe it. There was something remarkable about the two eldest Bennet sisters, and he was sorry not to have been the first in line in either case.

Louisa stayed with her sister most of the evening, and Jane acted as hostess, giving a good account of herself in the role. Hurst was as talkative as anyone had ever heard him, absurdly currying Bingley’s and Elizabeth’s favours with apologies for Caroline long after the subject had been worn thin.

Elizabeth longed to sit up late into the night with Jane, dissecting the afternoon’s events and deciding how to tell Darcy, but Bingley seemed reluctant to relinquish Jane’s attention or Georgiana’s company. The party grew quiet, and Elizabeth was left with the impression that everyone in the drawing room wished to speak without her presence. She sighed and decided. “I must wish you all a good evening, and I shall see you in the morning. I shall draft a letter to Mr. Darcy. Jane, if you might tap at my door when you come up? I may not have the tone of the letter just right and would seek your good opinion.”

“Of course, Lizzy. I shall join you presently.”

As the door of the drawing room closed behind her, Elizabeth would have sworn she heard several sighs of relief.
Are they all so afraid of my response to Caroline that they will not discuss the matter in front of me? Am I thought such a harridan?

The next morning, Elizabeth’s letter was included in an express with correspondence from Bingley to Darcy, which Elizabeth assumed covered the matter of Caroline’s behaviour and Bingley’s explanation and apology. Elizabeth also noticed a letter to Darcy from Georgiana in the packet, and even one from Jane. Perhaps they all decided the best policy was to offer several accounts, letting Darcy seek the truth from many sources.

Chapter 12

An Eventful Week…part 3

“Tax not so bad a voice to slander music any more than once.”
William Shakespeare
Much Ado about Nothing

Although Fitzwilliam Darcy fully understood his own definition of innocence regarding his beloved’s knowledge of the sensual realm and marital relations, he would have been surprised to know that she defined
him
as an innocent in the art of the giving of gifts and in the understanding of their effect upon those who were not the actual recipient. He had no way of knowing the effect his presents had on anyone but Elizabeth, but had he sought that lady’s advice, she might have warned him that her mother would respond in a way wholly unreasonable but not unpredictable.

It would not have occurred to Darcy that Mrs. Bennet would have an opinion on the subject of how his bride would style her hair on her wedding day, or that anyone, Mrs. Bennet included, would seek to be obeyed if their desires ran contrary to the wishes of a bride. And so it was, for the second time, that Elizabeth received a gift from Darcy that drew the disapprobation of his future mother-in-law. For Mrs. Bennet, the first gift to her daughter was not fine enough, and the second far too grand.

The courier from Grandison’s arrived at Longbourn two days after Elizabeth and Jane returned from Netherfield. This auspicious person presented himself two hours after a box from a prominent London milliner had arrived, addressed to Miss Jane Bennet, containing two wedding bonnets, from which Jane was to choose one and return the rejected specimen.

Elizabeth, Mrs. Gardiner, Mrs. Bennet, and Jane were in Jane and Elizabeth’s bedroom, studying the two hats and watching Jane try on one, then the other, interminably. Three of the ladies found the simpler embroidered white veil over a low frame to be the most becoming to the lady and her wedding gown—of which she was not yet in possession, it being given its final hemming in Meryton—but Mrs. Bennet preferred the bonnet with a more pronounced brim that Elizabeth, under her breath, likened to the prow of a ship. It trailed an elbow length veil with rather more beading than suited the absent gown.

When Mrs. Bennet left to confer briefly about the evening’s dinner, Elizabeth suggested to Jane that they and their sisters each wear a specimen of the more ornate bonnet and advertise themselves as “an Armada of Bennets.” Jane was convulsed with laughter, and Mrs. Gardiner was chuckling as Elizabeth paraded around the room in the offending chapeau when Mrs. Bennet re-entered the room. She was instantly livid.

“Lizzy! You will ruin that lovely bonnet, and Jane will have no proper veil for her wedding. And we shall have to pay for it. I am sure, as Mrs. Darcy you will order whatever you want and abuse your clothes howsoever you please, but you are not married yet,
Miss Lizzy
…”

“Mama,” Jane looked at her mother with heart melting sincerity, “you know Lizzy is right. The lower bonnet and longer veil will suit me much better. The larger white bonnet is, I am sorry to say, also uncomfortable.” Jane took the hat from her sister’s head, examining how it was fashioned inside. Whoever had sewn it had done so very ill.

Mrs. Bennet breathed a loud sigh and gazed with favour on her most beautiful daughter. “If it is uncomfortable, dear Jane, then I would not have you wear it. All of your tears that day should be tears of joy.”

Jane stood wearing the veil she liked best, and embraced her mother. “Thank you, Mama.”

As both hats were being packed into their boxes, a smart rapping was heard on the front door. Hill answered as the four ladies stepped onto the upstairs landing to watch. They could not hear what was said, but Hill turned and called up the stairs, “Miss Elizabeth, this courier has a gift for you from Grandison’s Jewellers,
in London
.”