Elizabeth and Jane had been let into Netherfield by a grim butler, who in turn, led them to an empty parlour where a tea service was already laid out. The man bowed before stating, "My apologies, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth," with a nod to each respective lady, "I shall inform Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley that you have arrived. Do make yourselves comfortable." With another bow, the man was gone, away to inform their delightful hosts that their guests were, presumably, early.
Elizabeth turned to her sister, turning a critical eye over her light blue gown, making sure she was in order before allowing her sister to sit down. She simply sat on the couch next to Jane, uncaring of any wrinkles that may or may not have found their way onto her gown. None of it mattered anymore. despite what she had said to Jane in the carriage on the way over, she did not know if she had the strength to refuse Mr. Collins. Perhaps if her father had still been alive and well, if she had not been separated and secluded from her sisters and mama almost immediately after her Aunt and Uncle Gardner had left, being forced out by the elder Mr. Collins.
Once again, she thanked God for the death of the elder Mr. Collins, who implemented the new reign under which the Bennet women now lived. His son would never be what he was, Elizabeth though drolly, but he certainly was doing his best. And that was enough. More than enough.
A noise was heard and Elizabeth mentally shook herself from her thoughts, as the door opened and in swept Louisa Hurst and Caroline Bingley. Both stood out in Meryton, their dark and ostentatious gowns contrasting wonderfully with the simple, light colors that the denizens of Meryton favored. Or, rather, were able to afford. If their lives had been unaltered, Mama would most certainly be badgering Papa or Uncle Gardner about the new style of lace on Mrs. Hurst's gown, Elizabeth decided, as she offered Jane her arm. Once they were both up, Elizabeth and Jane gave a graceful curtsey to their hosts, and thanked them both for inviting them over to their great estate.
"Of course not, my dear Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth. It is a great honor to have you in our home. I hope we shall become great friends." Miss Bingley gestured for them to sit down, and poured the tea. There were a few moments of silence, as the tea was poured, sugar and milk added, and then conversation was had.
"How was your journey here, Miss Bennet? Miss Eliza? It has been quite wet these past few days, and it would be such a shame if your carriage was not able to go through the mud, if it rains again later today. Would your family be able to send another carriage, or should I inform our stablemaster to be aware of such a possibility?"
That last sentence, delivered with as a cloying smile as one could expect from a woman who wished to be as far away from her current location as Caroline Bingley wished. Elizabeth tilted her head, studying Miss Bingley. No, Netherfield Park was not Pemberley, for the simple reason that she was not Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, and it seemed Miss Bingley had yet to get over that little tidbit.
Jane answered graciously for the both of them, "That would be lovely, Miss Bingley. It is very kind of you to offer such a service." Elizabeth waited for her sister to finish speaking, before a mischievous smile spread across her face.
"Yes, indeed, Miss Bingley. It is very kind of you to make such an offer. I only hope that the weather does not turn, as it frequently does, to the point to where your own carriage will not traverse through the mud. Then we shall have to trespass on the hospitality of your brother for a few days until the roads dry." Calmly and with ample satisfaction, Elizabeth watched as Miss Bingley's face went suddenly blank for a few moments, as she realized the implications of Elizabeth's words.
"Yes, indeed, we should hope not." Miss Bingley said tightly. Mrs. Hurst who seemed to have slightly better manners than her sister, quickly replied, "Of course, my dear Miss Bennet, Miss Eliza, we should be glad to host you if the occasion should arise."
Elizabeth gave Mrs. Hurst a benevolent assent with a small nod in her direction, "Of course, Mrs. Hurst. I know that Mr. Collins is hoping to invite your party into Longbourn sometime in the near future, so you have my assurances that should such a thing ever happen, we should be happy to host you and your party, as well." Elizabeth gave Miss Bingley a sweet, sincere smile, her eyes dancing with mischief, as Miss Bingley considered her neighbor's words.
Jane's hand slipped into Elizabeth's, as she watched Miss Bingley go grey for a brief moment, at the indication that she may have to stay more than an evening in the company of Mr. Collins and the Bennet family. Of course, she recovered herself fairly quickly, as the questions then turned to their father, and the accident. An attempt to glean any information that no one else knew, Elizabeth realized.
"Oh my dears, I apologize most heartily!" Miss Bingley started. "I understand what a devastating topic it must be, but I should feel ill of myself if I did not ask after him-and you! dear Jane-" was said as an aside when Jane's gaze betrayed to the black and gold cane laid out beside her, "as the neighbors have all informed myself and Louisa as to his condition. However, I would wish to inquire after him personally. How is your father?" Jane startled next to Elizabeth, putting her tea cup into her saucer with a bit more force than required. Her hand startled for a moment, as she watched the satisfied gleam within Miss Bingley's eyes, and the well hidden, but unabashed curiosity in Mrs. Hurst's.
Elizabeth smiled thinly, glad that Jane was with her, and that Jane was not alone with these harpies. Glad that she had someone to hold onto, to not face this alone. Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst were not Mr. Collins, nor his father. She was not afraid of them. In all honesty, now that she was here, she welcomed the opportunity to breathe for an afternoon, to be her natural self-a connoisseur of human folly, as her papa had once remarked-and realized that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, if asked, could hardly testify to Elizabeth's impertinence, unless they wished to be faced with their own.
Swallowing a lump within her throat, she asked, a bit more pointed and sharp in her tone than she expected, "What is it that you wish to know, Miss Bingley?"
Miss Bingley spread her hands out in appeasement, aware that she had touched a nerve with Elizabeth, as she stated, "I simply wished to ask after his condition, as a neighbor and friend, Miss Eliza. I know I should dislike it excessively if such a thing had happened to my father." Mrs. Hurst simply looked, back and forth from her sister to Elizabeth, as though they were a sporting match.
Jane spoke beside her, always the voice of reason and compassion. "Our father is still in a coma, Miss Bingley. The doctors do not believe that he will wake up, but of course our family prays for that moment, every single morning and night. Thank you for inquiring after him, our mother shall be comforted that we have such caring neighbors."
Miss Bingley accepted Jane's kind words, and then there was an awkward pause, as no one said anything. Elizabeth waited, her breath caught in her throat, for them to ask more questions. Everywhere they went, they were asked, or it was talked about. And each time she answered, her breath never was released, nor did her belly seem to untangle itself from the many knots it formed.
Mrs. Hurst seemed to take the plunge, as she asked "How is your family taking such news, Miss Bennet?" Miss Bingley added on to her sister's question, stating "I understand you have three younger sisters, is that correct? Two of them, I was informed by Sir William, I believe, were out last year, but your new guardian, Mr. Collins recalled them from Society? And I believe he is your cousin, or so I have been informed" she stated, her head tilting in apparent disbelief and confusion.
Elizabeth opened her mouth to respond, and Jane must have seen the harshness of the reply before it left her lips, as she smoothly spoke over Elizabeth, before Elizabeth could formulate her words.
"Yes, Miss Bingley, you are correct. After our accident, my Aunt and Uncle Gardner came to stay with us a few days, in order to sort things out and inform the heirs of our estate, what had happened. Mr. Collins is indeed our cousin-our father's cousin's son. His father recently died this past Christmas. It-"
Here, Jane paused, not quite sure how to say what she wished, without giving the sisters more information than was needed about their home life.
"It was decided by the present Mr. Collins' father that Lydia and Catherine, our two youngest sisters, should stay at home until their elder sisters were married, or until they reached their majority. They-they took our father's accident very badly, and of course they are still very young."
Miss Bingley gave Jane a reassuring look, before soothingly murmuring, "Of course, Miss Bennet. From what I have heard, it is doing them a great deal to their constitutions and temperaments. Quite often, I believe, blessings come disguised as adversity. It is so wonderful that you and your family share my views."
Elizabeth gave a muted sound, as she quickly took a drink from her tea cup.
"Are you quite all right, Miss Eliza?" Miss Bingley asked sweetly.
"I am well, Miss Bingley, I merely swallowed some tea the wrong way."
"Of course, Miss Eliza." Miss Bingley motioned for Elizabeth to bring her tea cup forward, and she replenished the cup. "As you said before, Miss Bennet, your aunt and uncle came to stay at Longbourn, after your father's accident?"
"Yes, my aunt and uncle came as soon as we wrote, and did indeed spend a few weeks at Longbourn, until Mr. Collins and his late father arrived, Miss Bingley." was Jane's reply. Elizabeth was able to catch the note of terseness, that underlaid her sister's tone. Replenishing her sister's tea was the only thing she could do at the moment. Jane smiled at her in thanks, as well as relief, and returned her attention to Miss Bingley.
"And where are they from?" This came from Mrs. Hurst, who seemed to not be able to hold in her eagerness at this moment.
And so it comes, Elizabeth thought ruefully, as she opened her mouth to reply.
They made it through the evening meal, Elizabeth was surprised to say, after being cross examined by the Bingley sisters all afternoon, with only a light repast of tea, small lemon, raspberry, and white cakes to sustain them. And it was not as though they could refuse such polite attentions from their most prominent neighbors, not with Mr. Collins as the head of their household.
Enduring such attentions, as always, was made easier by the presence of Jane, but afterwards, Elizabeth felt the need to clasp her hands tightly together, to stop their shaking. It was not as though she were afraid of Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, but rather could not stop the influx of feelings and memories she felt every time she spoke about what happened. The face and voice of Mr. Collins danced around the edges of her mind, and she wanted desperately for the noise to stop.
Now their meal was over and it was time for Elizabeth and Jane to head back to Longbourn. despite Elizabeth's earlier teasing of Miss Bingley, the weather was quite fair. It had drizzled a bit as they had rode in, but beyond their hats and outer garments becoming a bit damp, Miss Bingley had no need to fear for any more of their company. At least until Mr. Collins had officially sent his invitation for the Bingleys, Hursts, and Mr. Darcy to dine with them.
Miss Bingley had just ordered a passing footman to gather Elizabeth and Jane's things and pull up their carriage when Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy arrived from dining with Colonel Forster and the officers in Meryton. Mr. Bingley handed his hat off to a servant, and nearly dragged his taciturn friend along with him, in his eagerness to greet the Bennet ladies.
He gave them a brief, eager bow, and then started, "Oh are you both to leave already, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth?"
He turned to his sister. "Caroline, allow us some conversation with our closest neighbors. Their carriage can wait another half an hour."
Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst glanced at each other, their expressions mirroring their surprise, and then to Mr. Darcy, in an almost pleading way, Elizabeth thought. She followed their gazes. Mr. Darcy, his expression as it ever was within the company of others was grave and foreboding. He gave them no help, however, as he bent at the waist, to Elizabeth and Jane, and turned to his host with an expectant look on his face.
Mr. Bingley's face lit up as he recognized the intent on his friend's face, and offered his arm to Jane, who took it with no change of expression. Elizabeth was startled when Mr. Darcy strode his way towards her, in short, clipped movements, as though he were attempting to hold himself back, and extended the crook of his arm to her, after giving her another bow from the waist. And thus, they were escorted to an adjacent parlour, and were awaiting coffee and plum cake.
Mr. Darcy, upon entering the room, escorted Elizabeth to where she would sit with her sister, with Mr. Bingley opposite them on a small chaise, and cloistered himself at a small table where a quill and some papers awaited him, Elizabeth noted. He was a man of such extremes, and why should he pay her such favor?
First at Sir William's, when he had arrogantly declared "every savage can dance" in response to Sir William's repeated overtures, he then had asked her to dance out of all the ladies attending, and now with the extraordinary deference he paid her, now only to ignore the entire room, and write a letter! Elizabeth wished to know exactly how he would pay suit to a lady whose company he enjoyed, for every time he received hers, his expressions and actions led her to believe that it was a thoroughly unpleasant experience. He greeted her with deadly courtesy to her face, and given Miss Bingley's musings, she did not wish to know what was said of her behind closed doors.
Jane and Mr. Bingley had started a conversation based upon the weather; he was hoping she had not suffered any adverse affects due to the damp, and Elizabeth's concentration was taken by a bored Miss Bingley, who had declined coffee in favor of promenading about the room, passing by Elizabeth so often.
"You write uncommonly fast, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth watched as Miss Bingley stopped at the back of Mr. Darcy's chair, peering over his shoulder to note what he was writing. Mr. Darcy gave her no answer, continuing with his writing. A few moments passed, as Miss Bingley passed by Elizabeth, and stopped behind Mr. Darcy, again.
"To whom do you write so secretly to, sir?" she asked tartly. Mr. Darcy addressed her then, "It is to Georgiana," he turned his way towards Elizabeth, explaining further, "my younger sister. She is but fifteen years old, and is at our home, Pemberley."
Elizabeth felt honor bound to say something, as he had gone out of his way to keep her informed of his and Miss Bingley's rather one sided conversation, yet did not quite know what to say. However, before she could speak, Miss Bingley had pounced on the subject of Miss Georgiana, with a tinkling laugh, "How is dear Georgiana faring at Pemberley alone, Mr. Darcy? You must miss her and your home."
Mr. Darcy's eyes waited on Elizabeth's form for a brief moment, then went to meet Miss Bingley's eyes. "Of course, Caroline, whenever I am away from Pemberley and my sister, I should always miss it, but Georgiana bears the solitude well."
He addressed Elizabeth again, "She is very fond of music and playing the pianoforte, a love she shares with your younger sister, Miss Mary, I believe." Elizabeth gave Mr. Darcy, perhaps her first true smile to anyone outside of Jane, since the Collinses had come into their lives, "She is indeed very fond of playing the pianoforte, Mr. Darcy. The only true musician among us, I am afraid."
"You played quite well at Sir William's, Miss Elizabeth." was Mr. Darcy's reply, his timbre forthright and steady.
"I thank you sir," Elizabeth started, yet did not know how to continue on, at such a compliment given to her by the taciturn and proud man who was now attending upon her every word, "However I cannot accept such a compliment. I am well aware of my deficiencies. That is my fault, as I do not take the time to practice."
"Well, you should practice Miss Georgiana's habits and diligence, Miss Eliza" Miss Bingley interjected in a smug tone, "Dear Georgiana delights in practicing her pianoforte all day long, as she informed me at our last visit. She is growing into quite the accomplished lady, as I am sure Mr. Darcy will inform you. The last time we visited Pemberley, she showed me the most beautiful design for a table, and we had quite a time playing and singing for the assembled guests at Pemberley."
Miss Bingley shot Elizabeth a smug, satisfied look, as though Elizabeth was supposed to be jealous of her felicity with Mr. Darcy's sister, a young girl with whom she was not acquainted, and could expect to never become acquainted with.
"Indeed, Miss Bingley" Elizabeth finally said in agreement, causing Miss Bingley to send her another one of her smirks masquerading as a smile. Elizabeth gave Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley a small smile. "I shall be happy to pass on your compliment to my sister, Mr. Darcy."
Mr. Darcy gave her a long look, surprising her with a full smile of his own, and hastily returned to his letter. Elizabeth frowned at the abruptness of his manner, and turned to her sister and Mr. Bingley, who had been in quiet conversation this entire time. She was about to suggest that she and Jane should go to their carriage, but Miss Bingley was triumphant over her.
"Charles, you really should escort Miss Eliza and Miss Bennet to their carriage, it is getting quite late. We would not wish for Mr. Collins to worry about their whereabouts."
"Of course not, dear sister." Mr. Bingley offered Jane his arm, and again, Elizabeth was shocked to see Mr. Darcy appear next to her. She had not even heard him get up from his chair. "Miss Elizabeth?" he questioned, as she did not move from her seat. Finally, she had gathered her wits enough together, to accept his arm with a soft, "Thank you, Mr. Darcy."
Later that night, Elizabeth crept out of the darkened hallway, and into Jane and Kitty's room. The moonlight washed both of her sister's in silvery light, and she could see that while Kitty was asleep, Jane was still awake; staring at the ceiling above. Carefully, Elizabeth slid in between Kitty and Jane; beyond a few cursory mumbles from Kitty, who scooted closer towards the edge of the bed once she had registered her sister's presence, she laid on her side and laid her head in Jane's breast.
A few minutes passed, and the silence was broken only with a question that Elizabeth posed to her sister. "Are you in love with Mr. Bingley, Jane?"
Her answer was only a deep inhale.