Elizabeth told Jane that very evening, when they were both in their shared guest bedroom and ready to sleep, that Mr. Bingley was back in town. Jane assured her that Mr. Bingley could be in town, in the Continent or in the moon and it would make no difference to her, thus effectively closing the subject. Elizabeth knew Jane still suffered by her disappointed hopes but if she didn't want to open her heart just yet, she could wait. Giving each other space for secrets and privacy was something both sisters regarded as very important, and Elizabeth didn't bring Mr. Bingley up again.
A castle - a fortress indeed, defended by a dragon, and a princess asleep inside. The princess is my heart, my poor broken heart, the thick walls of the castle are made of my silence, the dragon is my polite indifference.
Such was Jane's mindset as she descended from the carriage at the Cavendish home's main entrance; the casual observer wouldn't have noticed anything amiss in her demeanour but Elizabeth noted Jane clutched her little fan with a force that would possibly crush it. They had been invited to dinner with both their aunt and uncle and their eldest niece, aged fifteen, and she knew Charles, Mr. Bingley, would likely be there.
They were shown into the parlour, where about a dozen people were assembled. Mr. Darcy was standing near the window, talking to Colonel Fitzwilliam and Lord Cavendish; Lady Georgiana was talking to Miss Hancock, and Mrs. Annesley was talking to Miss Hancock's mother. There were two gentlemen and one lady they hadn't met before, and in the corner, Charles Bingley was looking down at a book in hands.
How it happened, she never knew. Jane didn't seek him, had actually prepared herself to avoid him, yet the moment she set foot in the room he raised his eyes from the page and met hers. She looked down immediately, feeling exposed and vulnerable, and he looked down too.
The newcomers went round the room greeting everyone present; Elizabeth talked warmly to Mr. Bingley, expressing her delight in seeing him again. He replied with a little smile that hardly reached his eyes that it was mutual, and congratulated her on her upcoming nuptials. Jane stood half a step behind her sister, a mask of detachment firmly in place, her eyes eluding his steadily. Not a sound left her lips.
Mr. Bingley was changed. He was not the man of the easy manners and the happy smile they had met in Netherfield, but one that seemed... weighed down. He had once said he didn't have the patience to read, but now he was holding a book in his hands; he had once said he could move on a whim but always seemed rooted, this one had wandered like a leaf in the wind. Jane thought it was because he still mourned his wife but Elizabeth, more rightly, believed the reason to be standing silently by her side.
Miss Jane Bennet and Mr. Charles Bingley didn't talk to each other that evening. They conformed to the rules of politeness and courtesy acknowledging each other, but spent most of the dinner in the exhaustive study of their forks, and joined the conversations of their neighbours only as listeners.
-"Miss Elizabeth, good morning."
Mr. Darcy greeted his fiancée formally as it was his custom, in spite of a rather unusual morning call. She replied in kind, and sat on the setee as he took one of the chairs.
Mornings were a busy time in the Gardiner household: taking advantage of the still nice weather Jane had taken the children to the park, Mrs. Gardiner had gone shopping with her eldest daughter, the servants were all at work.
-"Lizzy, it didn't go well last night with Jane and Charles, did it?", he asked as soon as they were alone.
-"It's hard to say," she replied. "Jane keeps it all to herself," she shook her head softly, "why do you ask?" she added with a light frown of curiosity.
-"I would like to take you to the theater tonight - Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, I believe, but Georgiana and Richard have previous engagements. We may go with the Gardiners if they feel like, but I was thinking on Jane and Charles."
Elizabeth smiled widely.
-"Well, thank you for the invitation, Fitzwilliam" she paused as she delighted in pronouncing a name she had felt forbidden until quite recently. "I truly don't believe Jane would refuse being in Charles' company, and it is acceptable to be silent in a theater... so I think she will agree. I will ask her as soon as she returns, just to be sure. Send someone for confirmation in the early afternoon, will you?"
Mr. Darcy left Gracechurch Street deep in thought. His friend's melancholy was the counterpart to a sunny side that used to prevail, but he believed the sun still shone behind the present clouds.