Chapter XXI
The message of Jane's return was given. Mrs. Bennet's flurry of orders set Longbourn's staff to airing bedlinens and adding dishes to an already-fixed menu. The excitement level—even Mr. Bennet, after swiftly concluding his interview with Collins discovered his eyes wandering to the window that overlooked the great granite gateposts—was set at a higher pitch than in recent days. Elizabeth, who unaccountably was acting like Lydia, elbowed Kitty as she tried to squeeze two young ladies onto a prime window seat built for one. Eventually, though, the pair twisted their frames to peer out the glazing that offered the best view of Longbourn Lane and any approaching vehicle. The entire manor was on high alert. As a result, the clatter of iron-rimmed wheels on Longbourn's grey and white river stone drive was anticlimactic.
The taper's flame whipped around the wick as another draft winkled its way between the sill and window. Shadows danced on the chamber's walls and would have inspired more than one frightening story if the tale already being told was not the stuff of one of Mrs. Radcliffe's more feverish fantasies. The secrets exchanged between the two young ladies huddled beneath the coverlet had to make up for lost time and misdirected correspondence but necessarily touched upon the events of the past week in most respects except one. Lizzy had been cautioned by her father to hold back the stunning news of the recovered man. Mr. Bennet had stressed the potential danger that this knowledge could hold for those who knew the truth.
When her sister had been handed down from Gardiner's coach, Lizzy had enthusiastically greeted Jane, embracing her confidante with heartfelt joy. Yet, their private time was deferred by Mama's need to learn all the latest gossip and fashions that her eldest had come across during her eight-week journey. An itemized list of balls, house parties, eligible gentlemen, and scandals—although Jane was ill-suited to serve as her mother's eyes and ears in this—was demanded and given. Mrs. Bennet dominated the interrogation and thoroughly ignored Elizabeth's rolled eyes and jealous glares. Jane, for her part, accommodated her mother and leaned upon Mrs. Gardiner's observations. That worthy lady well understood Fanny Bennet's proclivities. She filled in Jane's blanks with enough tittle-tattle to satisfy her husband's sister.
Yet, Elizabeth's need to spend time with Jane was further delayed by dinner. Mama had been restrained in the parlor where she could ask a question and be answered. However, in the dining room, Fanny Bennet was nonpareil. There her production of a celebratory feast was supreme. The human occupants of the room were necessary only to appreciate the array of dishes that flowed from the kitchens. Unlike larger houses where four or five footmen could be pressed into service to shuttle viands, Longbourn operated with a leaner staff. James, Sarah, and Mr. Hill arrayed serving platters and bowls on the sideboard, quickly and efficiently serving the family using a choreography refined over the years.
Mama had decided that Jane would sit at her right while Aunt Madelyn reposed on the left. Elizabeth and Uncle Edward flanked Mr. Bennet. This afforded both parents congenial conversational partners. Mary and Mr. Benton sat side-by-side opposite Kitty and Mr. Collins. One of these pairs seemed utterly disinclined to speak to anyone but their partner, the other was desperate to avoid talking at all. Kitty paled noticeably and began to sputter and cough the moment Collins turned her way. Undeterred, the man from Hunsford tried to engage the choking girl until Lizzy rescued her sister by asking Mr. Collins about shelves, chimneypieces, or some other nonesuch. Aunt Maddie gently stroked Kitty's back until the spasm ceased.
Eventually, after the separation of the sexes, cards, and conversation, Jane gave Elizabeth a telling glance and stifled a yawn. Elizabeth took the hint, jumped to her feet, and collected her sisters—Kitty was overjoyed to place several chambers between herself and her tiresome cousin—commenting that Jane had had a long day. Benton rose and noted that he had to be on his way as well. His declamation on old Cato's plodding gait elicited a genial hand wave of dismissal from Mr. Bennet. This gave Mary her cue to be escorted into the front entry for a private audience with her betrothed. In moments, the only persons in the parlor were the two older couples and Mr. Collins. The cleric attempted to engage the others in a discussion about his patroness' condescension in permitting her tenants to harvest their crops on Tuesdays and Wednesdays so that they could work on the Home Farm on the other four days. Soon the public room was deserted except for the Hunsford parson who blinked in the dwindling firelight as Mr. Hill made his way around the room snuffing out all the candles.
After a brief wash up, Jane and Lizzy found themselves cuddled under the counterpane.
"Oh, Lord, Jane," Lizzy gushed, "I never thought dinner would come to an end. I have been waiting for this moment the entire day. I was so distracted that I began planning some sort of parlor disaster just to break up the gathering!
"Your weary stretch was just what I needed!
"I know this may sound a bit fey, but I find myself pleased that your letter from Papplewick Hall was misdirected. Who knew that I would be thankful that a servant dropped the post in a puddle. I would have spent the past sennight beyond impatient waiting for your carriage to appear between the gateposts."
Miss Bennet's melodic laugh was muffled as she buried her face in Lizzy's shoulder. Elizabeth pulled back to gaze at her sister. Jane's head was a chiaroscuro of highlighted cheekbones and ears with eye sockets darkened in backlight as the candle wreathed her crown with a gilded halo. Stray hairs had escaped her braid and glimmered as the flame flickered. Jane's even, white teeth radiated as the taper's glow caught shiny surfaces around the chamber and reflected light back onto the young ladies.
Her rich alto, as smooth and beguiling as the caramel Mrs. Hill poured atop their custards, further lifted Lizzy atop the crest of the happiness she was enduring. Even a sightless man would declare Jane an angel as he sat entranced at her knee.
Jane's voice flowed into her sister's soul, "Oh, Lizzy. I have sorely missed you. I love Uncle Edward and Aunt Madelyn dearly, but they can be so old at times.
"There were many moments I secretly wished for an express to be delivered of a morning to our inn, calling Uncle back to Town to attend to some business crisis. The trip became rather long after the first few weeks.
"That may be a harsh judgment for I assume they planned our schedule in the belief that what they chose would also be pleasing to me."
She paused and contemplated her next before saying, "Of course they acted in this manner. They are always so considerate. I cannot imagine them ignoring me or my inclinations even though t'was I who had been invited to accompany them on their vacation and not the other way around.
"If t'were Mama, I would know that we would only do that which Mama wished. We would spend our days marching through milliners' and modistes. If Papa was our guide, we would never be out of sight of a bookstore or a library.
"But, Lizzy, our aunt and uncle never once asked me about my desires.
"Oh, they did give me choices, but these either 'A' or 'B': something which was already fixed. I came to dread Uncle bringing out his copy of Professor Silliman's guide to add or subtract destinations on the list he kept in his pocketbook.i Uncle Gardiner is far too organized for my taste.
"I know that our aunt and uncle professed particular pleasure in touring grand homes and gardens. You can guess—and I readily admit that I did not offer in my letters anything but my own cursory impressions of the estates that occupied my days—my rising discontent," Jane sadly added, "Do not tell Mama, for we know how dearly she cherishes the idea that her daughters will carry on her affection for roses, but if I encounter one more well-planned wilderness, another parlor with frescoed ceilings, or a gallery full of fusty paintings, I fear I will scream!"
Lizzy professed astonishment and pinched her sister's cheek, "What? My Jane offering anything but a ladylike 'how nice?' Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?"
The two of them giggled, and Lizzy flopped onto her back to stare at the ceiling.
"What would you have wished, Jane? I know you are uncomfortable opening your heart to others, but these were Aunt Maddie and Uncle Edward. Those two love you as deeply as Mama and Papa. Surely you could have expressed yourself in a way that would have told them of your disquiet without offending them. You are Jane Hadley Bennet, after all, and not your boisterous copy, Miss Lydia Georgiana Bennet!
"Lydie is always about herself. You, dearest, never once put yourself before others."
Jane absorbed her words and then replied, "How, true, Lizzy. I am almost constitutionally unable to reveal my emotions. 'Tis so much more comfortable to be pleasant with everyone.
"But it can be frustrating at times. I yearn for more. Yet, I see Mama and our youngest sisters…"
"Exploding all over everyone they meet without a single concern about the disapprobation that will bring upon their—and our—heads," Lizzy completed.
Jane digested that which the two had discussed and arrived at the conclusion that what had been needed to be surveyed on this subject had been well-covered. She became even more Jane-like in her silence except that, to Elizabeth, that stillness spoke volumes. Sheltered in the shadowy recesses beneath the quilts, Lizzy could see the glint in her sister's eyes as Jane drank in a ewer-full of her sibling's brightness.
"Now, Lizzy," Jane interjected, "You must satisfy my curiosity.
"Mary…what became of our sister? When did she shed her dour plumage? And, to return to find her betrothed to, if you will excuse me, although I will deny it if you dare mention it to Mary, as fine a figure of a man as I have seen in months! I do seem to recall Mr. Benton, but he never made much of an impression upon me."
Lizzy snickered, "What was it that Mrs. Hill says: For every pot there is a lid? Neither you nor I ever paid Mr. Benton any particular notice. However, that is not because he is unremarkable. I hold up our cousin Collins as an example of a clergyman who leaves an impression—an unpleasant one—wherever he goes.
"No, I am convinced that Edward Benton was hidden in plain sight because he was not meant for us. We looked at him but never saw him."
Jane replied, "And now he juts up from the landscape before us because of the change he has wrought in our sister?"
"Perhaps, although, I would not have thought to push those two together.
"There you have it. Love will out! Even though you and I have resolved to marry only for the deepest love, I do think that we also, as elder sisters, have resolved to ensure that your younger nursery-mates do the same.
"I lay it to the fact that we have willed it through our own peculiar magic," Lizzy spouted.
"And, while the two lovebirds have billed and cooed like a pair of doves this past sennight—I tell you, Jane, that I have not needed to sugar my tea since he offered for her—there is more than just infatuation between them. Mr. Benton has opened for Mary a spiritual landscape that hearkens to service. She has shelved fusty old Fordyce for that even more antique German, Pastor Luther.
"I commend her latest piece of cross-stitchery if you wish to know how far our sister's heart has been moved by her preacher: For each ought to live and die in love and service for another,ii" Lizzy finished.
The sisters rested in companionable quiet as Jane digested Lizzy's declamation about Mary. The undisturbed tranquility stretched so long that Lizzy began to wonder if Jane had dropped off to sleep: the day's travels having taken their toll. However, Miss Bennet did not begin her usual ladylike snore that would tell of her stroll with Morpheus. Lizzy understood this to mean that Jane had more of which she wanted to speak.
However, this part of their reunion was not destined to cover more of Jane's trip or Mary's betrothal. Jane charged into the heart of what had always been her remit, caring for Elizabeth: body and soul.
"What of my Lizzy?" Jane quizzed, "I have been away since mid-summer, and all I have had from you are recitations of Longbourn's seasons and sundry news of our neighbors.
"There must be more. Can you not tell me of more immediate events, perhaps even those of the past fortnight?
"Mr. Benton's face…?" Jane innocently prodded.
Lizzy's insides jellied as she recalled the scene by the Netherfield shed, the split in Edward's face, and the blood on Mary's handkerchief and gown. The brilliant white plaster on the preacher's cheek was unavoidable.
And, now Jane asked for more than she could offer.
Jane soaked up Lizzy's brown study and said nothing. She watched emotions flit across the countenance that had changed over the years of her sister's adolescence but was still the same in its essentials: the silken eyelashes surrounding dark and deep pools either side of a nose frequently described as pert. Soon, though, those luxurious fibers were bejeweled with unshed tears as her brows tilted upwards, and she stared into Jane's sky-blue orbs.
One droplet broke free and dropped onto the bed linen.
Lizzy sighed and replied, "I have never been able to avoid telling you everything! You are the vessel into which I can pour the entirety of my being. If I did not know better, I would think you an Oriental mystic, perhaps from Nippon or even the Middle Kingdom.
"You surround me with such peace and understanding that I can do nothing less than unburden myself!"
With that, Lizzy calmed and began to relate all that had transpired around Longbourn since Michaelmas. As the tale unwound like thread flying off a spindle feeding a power loom at Watson's Mills, Lizzy lost her reticence as her disequilibration ebbed. Her manner remained calm through her declamation of Wilson's flogging, Edward's defense, and Mary's response.
Then her recitation broke its back the question of how to address Smith's heroism. Elizabeth clamped her lips as she tried to sort out what she could safely relate.
Jane asked without words using one perfectly shaped eyebrow lifting into her forehead.
Lizzy implored her sister, "Oh, Jane…you cannot tell a soul of this. Papa feels…and Edward agrees…that, if it becomes known far-and-wide that the Bennets can be found in the middle of this, our entire family will—not may—be in danger. There are forces in play that cannot yet be discerned!
"The was another man, a prisoner himself, who tried to intervene when poor Wilson was being beaten. He did manage to stop the proceedings but was laid low himself.
"There is something about him that was, is, unforgettable. I came to know that he was named Smith, William Smith. I last saw him on Michaelmas crumpled in the dirt in front of the barn, next to Mr. Benton and Mary.
"At least that was until I came across him near the river two days later!"
Jane's amazement mounted as Elizabeth recounted how her efforts to escape Mr. Collins' importuning her for a private conference were complicated by the aftermath of the storm. However, even the normally placid and staid Miss Bennet could not restrain her gasping outbursts when Lizzy brought her down from Oakham Mount and into the sump by the side of the river road. Then Jane came face-to-face with the realization of just how inhumane humans could be.
She jumped from the bed to pace on the chilled floor when she heard of the weeping slashes across Smith's back. Her tears fell freely when Lizzy explained how she had worked to keep William Smith in the land of the living. She leaped upon the mattress, knees digging into its feathery softness, her feet tucked under her haunches, and a knuckled hand in her mouth when her sister told of leaving Smith insensible on the slope beneath a barrow of leaves and grass.
But when Lizzy spoke of encountering Mr. Fitzwilliam and Imperator, Jane froze, her eyes widened.
She interrupted the saga, "Another man? Alone in the woods? Elizabeth Rose Bennet! What were you thinking? The impropriety of it all!
"Oh wait," Jane snorted derisively, "you were moved by truly altruistic motives. No, Elizabeth, do not argue with me. I can see that look on your face: that wonderful mix of resolution and outrage.
"I know that in the moment, you likely convinced yourself that you were faced with the choice between life and death! Such a concern probably was close to the truth.
"However, did you for one moment consider the scandal if it became broadly known that you had consorted with a man without any sort of chaperone within a mile of you?
"Mr. Fitzwilliam is not known to our family. He could be a rake or a saint. He most certainly is foreign to Meryton where your wandering proclivities are accepted as one of your eccentricities."
She paused and speared Lizzy with an icy glare before asking, "From where does Mr. Fitzwilliam hail?"
Lizzy, subdued by Jane's ardent thesis and sudden change of direction, replied, "Derbyshire and, I imagine, Town."
Jane threw up her hands and looked to the ceiling in supplication, "Derbyshire…and Town.
"With our luck, he is probably the county's largest landholder and would justifiably consider toying with someone from such a mean background as you in the belief that your head would be turned by his attentions. Think about it. Papa may be one of the leading lights in the neighborhood, but his £2,000-a-year would not hold a candle to one of those gigantic estates I saw with our aunt and uncle. From what you have said of him, he is not an aristocrat, so that lets out Chatsworth and Selkirk.
"Dear Lord," she exclaimed as realization struck, "When we visited Aunt's old hometown of Lambton, I learned that the great holding of Pemberley was under the stewardship of someone named Fitzwilliam. Aunt Maddie said that the estate is worth £10,000-a-year."
Then she moaned, "Oh, Lizzy…Lizzy…you think you have lanced the boil of our cousin Collins' attentions, that you successfully have borne the brunt of Mama's nerves.
"Can you begin to imagine what she would do and say if she caught wind of the fact that you were alone on the other side of Oakham Mount with a man of his wealth? And, do you think someone of his circle would stop for one moment before declaring that being bound to you would be so untempting as to be intolerable?
"You would be jilted before you were engaged!
"Then he would fly back to whatever place he calls home in the Season to laugh.
"Where would your reputation be if he bragged in White's about the country lass he met up with in Hertfordshire's woods? What of Kitty, Lydia, or me if we became the butt of the ton's snickering over the sisters of Fitzwilliam's wood sprite? Our tiny dowries would be the least of our worries.
"This could be a disaster, worse than if Kitty or Lydia eloped with one of the Militia!"
Lizzy tried to calm Jane's worries, "I assure you that Papa already has taken me to task. My potential impropriety is sure to be the subject of several more lectures from that quarter. Papa actually suggested that I might consider learning deportment from Lydia!
"As for Mr. Fitzwilliam, he was everything that was right and proper. The moment I told him of finding Mr. Smith, he acted as if he were marshaling his forces against the Beast. Except for holding his horse steady as he hoisted the injured man across Impy's saddle, I might as well have not been present for all the notice he paid me.
"In the end, he rode away telling me to make my own way back to Longbourn.
"Nary a soul saw me alone in Mr. Fitzwilliam's company. And, when it came to Mr. Smith, I promise you that Mr. Fitzwilliam could be as fine a barrister as Great Britain has ever seen if he chose the law as his career. He is so adroit at turning a phrase. He actually told Papa that he had never seen me alone in Smith's presence."
Jane's eyes flashed merrily, for she could never hold onto her anger for long, at this clever jape and giggled, "Oh, Lizzy, how Papa must have smiled at this peculiar and logically-inconsistent statement. Mr. Fitzwilliam certainly could not have seen you alone…"
"Jane, dearest, 'tis good only in the first telling. One should only shake her head at the beauty of the sentence and softly groan," Lizzy interrupted, relieved to see her sister's good nature returning after her uncharacteristic outburst.
She then hopefully asked, "Have I satisfied your curiosity that Mr. Fitzwilliam carried Smith to safety and that the poor man yet lives?"
Jane well understood her sister's ways and took this as a signal that there was more to be learned but not from Elizabeth at this time.
Miss Bennet murmured her agreement and blew out the candle before she settled under the quilts, her frosty feet instinctively seeking out Lizzy's warm ones in a battle as old as their sisterhood. Lizzy objected, and Jane persisted. Eventually, a truce was reached.
Even after Elizabeth had begun to breathe heavily as sleep overtook her, Jane gazed upwards at the featureless plaster plain that arched over their bower. Her thoughts were uncommonly focused upon her next younger sister's happiness and heart.
The words that had been left unspoken shouted out to Jane. He is a convict sentenced to hard labor! People are trying to murder him! You have risked so much and for what?
Elizabeth Bennet had discovered a man who moved her as had no other and apparently one who had never before been visible to the young lady until a violent outburst had marred Hertfordshire's peace.
i Silliman, Benjamin. Journal of Travels in England, Holland, and Scotland and of Two Passages over the Atlantic in the Years 1805 and 1806 (Boston: Howe and Deforest and Cook of New Haven, 2e. 1812). Mr. Gardiner had obtained his copy of the first edition from his trading office in Boston.
ii Paraphrased from Martin Luther On Christian Liberty