Chapter One
Lydia and Wickham had left, and life at Longbourn had settled back into a familiar routine. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet seemed to have forgotten entirely how close their family had come to scandal, and had reverted to the habits that had occupied them before Lydia's elopement Mrs. Bennet flitted between neighbours, sharing the stories of the day and Mr. Bennet kept himself locked in his study, reading his books and considering the folly of those around him.
Their daughters were slightly more changed by the events of the preceding months. Kitty, who had been closest to Lydia and used to following her in everything, had become withdrawn. She felt strongly how close she had come to being tainted by scandal, and could admit to herself in quiet moments that she might have behaved similarly to her sister. This thought frightened her, and she had resolved to reform her ways, but, in the absence of a strong example of personality, was unsure how to proceed in such an endeavour of self improvement. She knew she would never want to be so pious as Mary, that she was not so clever nor so biting as Lizzy, and that she did not have Jane's tendency towards the unremittingly kind. Until she could find a woman upon which to model herself, she had retreated into a shy, retiring version of the girl she had been until quite recently.
Mary, while just as serious and studious as ever, had stopped quoting bible verses and aphorisms at every opportunity. She had decided that it was more important to improve herself so that she might create a life for herself away from the frivolity of her mother and sisters.
Jane and Elizabeth were less changed than their younger sisters, having had more previous experience with the disappointments of the world. Despite her best attempts to explain away Mr. Wickham's behaviour, Jane had to admit that he had treated their sister with disinterest at best, and with self-interest at worst. Elizabeth, who had always been doubtful of the goodness of the average person, now realized how fragile her own position had always been, and was concerned that her and her sisters' lives were so precariously balanced; one tragedy and they could be utterly ruined.
It was a crisp day in September when Mrs. Long came hastily up the drive to Longbourn, a clear sign that fresh gossip had arrived.
"My dear Mrs. Bennet, I am sure you must have heard the news," she said the moment she was shown into the drawing room.
"News? What news, my dear? I'm afraid you're the only caller we've had all morning," replied Mrs. Bennet, clearly displeased with not being the first to have clearly valuable neighbourhood information.
"Well, the village is all abuzz. Netherfield Park is to be reopened at last," said Mrs. Long, throwing herself with some theatrics into the armchair next to where Mrs. Bennet was seated.
Elizabeth looked carefully towards Jane, who was seated on the other end of the sofa. She had looked down at the needlework in her hands at these words, but showed no emotion.
"Is that so? Well, it is about time. Has that man who broke my poor daughter's heart given up the lease at last, then?" asked Mrs. Bennet.
At this, Jane did blush. She seemed to want to correct her mother, although she likely thought better of getting involved in the discussion.
"Not at all. Quite the opposite. Apparently he has sent word to the Housekeeper that he and at least one of his sisters will be returning within the week to take up residence once more. It sounds as though they intend to stay for some time, although you never can tell with these flighty London types. I never trust a man who is always flitting from one home to another, you know. It is a sign of a dangerously changeable character."
Elizabeth thought this speech somewhat strange. She was sure she had heard Mrs. Long, not a week before, expounding on the virtues of a well-travelled man who was not content to remain at home all year and who never missed the London Season.
"I agree my dear Mrs. Long," replied Mrs. Bennet, "we know how inconstant young men can be. Although, if he has returned to court my Jane I suppose he must be forgiven. He is a young man, afterall."
"Mama!" cried Jane, " I do not think Mr. Bingley deserves to be gossiped about in this way. He is perfectly at liberty to return to a home in his possession whenever he likes without becoming the victim of idle speculation. Now, if you'll excuse me, I was hoping to pick some of the last roses before the bushes stop blooming for the season." With that, Jane stood up and walked out of the room.
This was the harshest Jane had spoken to anyone in recent memory. Elizabeth was surprised. She thought that there must be more than neighbourly concern driving Jane's words, and resolved to speak to her on the matter.
"Excuse me, Mama, Mrs. Long. I believe I shall join her. We might not have many more days so fine before the winter sets in, I shall enjoy the fresh air."
"Yes, of course. Go on then," replied her mother, clearly happy to continue her conversation with Mrs. Long without the presence of her least favorite daughter.
Elizabeth found Jane in the flower garden a few minutes later. Jane had brought a basket and pruning shears, but had not gathered any blooms. Instead, she sat on a low stone bench, gazing vaguely in the direction of the far garden wall.
"Would you mind some company?" Elizabeth asked, walking over to her sister. Jane startled and turned to her.
"Oh, of course not."
"You certainly left in a bit of a hurry."
Jane sighed, "I did not want Mama to ask me how I feel about Mr. Bingley's return, and I certainly did not want to sit there while they talked about me as though I were some poor distraught creature who was too old and would never find a good match."
"Jane, you know that is not true."
"Isn't it? I am three and twenty, which was bad enough before we had a scandalous sister and more debt than Papa will ever be able to repay."
"Jane, you are starting to sound like Mama. You are not so very old, and with your beauty and goodness someone will be very lucky to one day call you his wife."
"Perhaps," was Jane's only reply.
"And is it not possible," continued Elizabeth, "that Mr. Bingley has returned to renew his addresses to you?"
"Lizzy, please don't - "
"No, listen to me. You must consider your options carefully. You are too modest, you think you are not a sufficient enticement to draw a man away from London, but I believe that is not true. It is certainly possible that he has come to see you, and you must be prepared."
"I am not sure what you mean. Prepared for what?"
"Well, if he calls, how will you receive him? If he proposes, how will you answer?"
"Lizzy, I know you mean well, but I do not wish to get my hopes up."
Elizabeth smiled softly at her sister, "so you do hope he renews his attentions, then?"
Jane blushed.
"That's what I thought," said Elizabeth, with a hint of a smirk.
"Don't be so self satisfied, Elizabeth, it is not lady-like," as she finished her remonstrance, Jane's voice shifted into a humorous, but not unkind, parody of Mrs. Bennet.
Elizabeth thought for a moment. She could see barely suppressed hope in her sister, and knew how difficult it must be. She could not imagine how she would be feeling if - but no. He knew of their shame and would never come near her again. That chance had been lost. She turned to Jane, her expression now serious.
"Oh Jane, do not let Mama, or even me, bully you into something you do not wish. However, you must also not allow happiness to slip away from you if it comes in reach. You never know if you will have another chance, and you cannot wait for fate to intervene."
Jane looked at her with something horribly like pity in her eyes. "Lizzy, I hope you do not feel you have missed your one chance at happiness. I should hate to see you unhappy."
"Do not fret about me, dear sister. As you know, it was always unlikely that I should ever make a great math and I have long satisfied myself with the prospect of being the favorite aunt of your undoubtedly numerous children."
Elizabeth had hoped that her feint of good cheer had been sufficient to put Jane off her current line of thought, and when Jane made no more question of her, she assumed that it had.
"Now," said Elizabeth, " I think we ought to pick some roses, otherwise what will Mama say of your sudden exit from the drawing room?"
"Quite right, Lizzy."
The days following Mrs. Long's visit were tumultuous at the Bennet household. Mrs. Bennet was beside herself with anticipation, putting pressure on the servants to ensure that every drape was dusted and every cushion sufficiently fluffed. The cook had been asked to redo the following week's menus three times, and all four girls were instructed to brush and air out their finest clothes. Mary was additionally scolded to "do something about that hair." All this was done, of course, without knowing whether or not they would be seeing the returning Gentleman at all.
Elizabeth and Jane had taken to taking long walks around the gardens, in an attempt to avoid crossing paths with their mother any more than was necessary. The summer heat was fading quickly, and the weather was increasingly brisk. Some of the trees were beginning to drop dry brown leaves onto the paths and roadways, which created a satisfying crunching noise when stepped upon. The sisters would often venture down the various wagon paths that littered the countryside around the estate, enjoying the views across open fields, some ripening for the harvest and others already laid fallow for the winter.
It was on one such ramble, about a week after Mrs. Long's visit, that they saw a man on a horse riding up the lane to Longbourn. Jane saw him first, and it was her sharp intake of breath that caused Elizabeth to look away from the swirl of crows above them and towards the road.
"Is that Mr. Bingley?" she said to her sister, who had gone noticeably pale.
"I believe so. But I do not know why has come here today, he can't have but only just arrived, we would have heard when he returned to the neighbourhood," said Jane, not apparently fully aware that she spoke allowed.
"Oh yes, I wonder what could possibly have caused this excursion," said Elizabeth, smiling kindly at her sister, "we ought to return home. Mama will be quite cross if Mr. Bingley calls and you are not there to welcome his return to the county."
The two took the shortest return route to the house. They walked in silence, the elder lost in thought and the younger watching her sister in loving amusement.
Even by the quickest path, it took them several minutes to return to the house. By the time they arrived, they could tell that had beaten them there, by the exuberant voice of Mrs. Bennet they could hear from the open windows.
"Why Mr. Bingley. We are delighted to see you again. Absolutely delighted. We were worried you had forgot us entirely, staying away all these months. But we are most pleased you have returned. Very pleased. I'm sure Jane will be pleased as well. She has just gone walking with her Elizabeth - Lizzy's idea of course, I don't know what to do with that girl. But it is no matter, I'm sure they will be back shortly. You will wait, of course, it would be too sad for you to go away again without having seen my dear Jane."
They could not make out Bingley's response, but went quickly to the front door, in the hopes they could interrupt before their mother said anything further. Shedding their pelisses and bonnets in the front hall, they moved to the door to the drawing room. There, they paused briefly, and Elizabeth reached for Jane's hand and gave it a quick, reassuring squeeze.
"Are you ready?" she asked, softly.
"I have to be." said Jane, resolutely.
Mr. Bingley did not leave Longbourn until the afternoon was nearly gone. Try as she might, Mrs. Bennet could not convince him to join them for supper, as he insisted his sister was expecting him. She was, however, able to extract a promise that he would join them for a meal the following day.
He and Caroline had, as it turned out, arrived from London late the previous night. He had gone over some estate questions with his steward that morning, and then ridden to Longbourn as soon as he was able. He professed delight at seeing them all once more, and intimated an intention to remain in the neighbourhood several weeks at least. Through the afternoon, although he spoke to all the Bennets equally, his gaze never left Jane for long. She, meanwhile, blushed at regular intervals, which would have made Elizabeth laugh were she not so pleased to see her sister so evidently on the brink of happiness.
That night, Elizabeth snuck into her sisters room after the rest of the family was asleep, as she had done many nights her entire life, and flung herself down on the bed.
"Mr. Bingley is in love with you."
"Lizzy! You must not say such things, he is a good neighbour who only wished to pay us his respects."
"Oh Jane, if he were a good neighbour he would have spent half an hour here and then gone to call on the Lucas's. No. Only a man truly and deeply in love would spend an entire afternoon listening to Mama extol the virtues of Hertfordshire society and grouse."
"Do you really think so?"
"I know it. I have never seen a man with such unguarded tenderness in his eyes."
"Do you think it was so obvious?"
"Perhaps not to everyone, but I certainly saw it," replied Elizabeth, "but Jane, do you love him?"
Jane blushed and buried her face in her hands, "If you had asked me yesterday, I would have said that he was but an acquaintance and I would be happy to meet him as a friend. But now that I have seen him again, I must admit I find myself most overcome. I only wish my heart would not get so entangled, for I fear it must be broken."
"I do not think it will be, and you would not be my beloved sister if you kept your heart guarded and locked away."
That night, after she returned to her own room, Elizabeth found she could not sleep. While she was truly pleased for her sister, she felt also an engulfing sadness when she thought of her own situation. She had allowed herself to hope, she realized, that Mr. Bingley would bring his friend with him once more, as he had the year previous. That he had come alone, with only his shrewish sister Caroline as company, made her feel as though a lead ball and landed in the pit of her stomach.
She had not truly believed that she would ever see Mr. Darcy again. She knew that he must despise her - related as she now was to a man he detested, and knowing of her family's near fall from grace - yet she had fantasized that he would come with his friend back into the neighbourhood, that they would be thrown together and she might have a chance to apologize for her words the previous spring. That he would be so moved by her words of atonement that he would renew his addresses. She knew it had been a foolish dream, but now that Bingley was here, without him, she felt the loss of the possibility quite keenly.
Now her life spread out before, bleak and lonely. Jane would marry soon, that now seemed clear, and she would be left at home. She would likely remain a spinster, caring for her aging parents, lamenting what might have been.
She despised herself for being so maudlin. For allowing herself false hope. For rejecting the one truly good man she had likely ever met. For being so proud that she had not seen what was before her. For not doing more to protect Lydia. For being envious of Jane.
Eventually, Elizabeth fell into a disturbed sleep. She dreamed of fog, with people vanishing into the mist, and the cold, cruel laughter of Caroline Bingley.
She woke up tired and unhappy.