Chapter 3:
The next week brought along dreadful weather, keeping Jane, the Gardiners, and all would-be callers at home. It was a rather uneventful week, which Jane used to reflect, write letters to her family, and help her aunt with her cousins. It was a cozy week, filled with warm blankets and hot cups of tea, and a good contrast to their previous week, which had been filled with engagements and outings.
On Thursday, the sun's rays finally precipitated from behind the clouds and a walk in the park was quickly ensued.
Jane put on a morning muslin dress with a coat, in case the dreadful weather were to return, and a light straw bonnet. Jane held her younger cousin's hand and was momentarily distracted by the innocence in Madeline's eyes. Young and beautiful Madeline, named like her mother, was almost nine. She had no idea what society was nor what the world beheld.
Jane remembered those young years filled with laughter and fun—even though her mama would speak often of husbands from an early age—there had been the misconception that they could choose. Her mama was certain that at least Jane's beauty would not be for naught. And now, here she was at the age of two and twenty without being married—without having security. She had comprehended Charlotte Lucas in a way Lizzy could not, and now she could understand her more than ever. Charlotte was not mercenary, she was smart and though not lucky in the means of achieving security, she had at the age of eight and twenty, made a very good match for herself, even if she now was shackled in matrimony to the awkward Mr. Collins.
With that thought she did a quick prayer of thanks for Mr. Bingley's presence for she was sure she would have otherwise felt her duty to marry Mr. Collins. And though she was not as severe as Lizzy, Jane knew that she could not respect him. Jane would have never grown to respect Mr. Collins, however, would she have married him if it meant securing her family? Jane did not want to think of the answer, for she did not think it would do her any justice. Perhaps Mr. Bingley's purpose in my life was to protect me from Mr. Collins. And allow me to break out of my shell, a quieter voice whispered.
She had been so distracted in her thoughts that she not heard her aunt calling her. She turned around and saw that she was talking to Mr. Dalligan. He looked over at her and gave her a small bow with his head, tipping his hat in her direction. She curtsied back and smiled.
"Miss Bennet, so wonderful to see you" he said, having walked towards Miss Bennet and now standing before her, his hat removed and his face shinning with the sunlight.
"Thank you, Mr. Dalligan" she responded, "We had to make good use of the weather"
"Yes, it has been rather gloomy" he commented, looking up at the glorious weather that now surrounded them.
The young Madeline hid behind Jane's skirts and whispered in her ear a desire to go back to her mama.
"Of course" whispered Jane, giving her a kiss on the cheek. She watched as Madeline went back to her mother, who had conveniently stayed a few steps behind Jane and Mr. Dalligan.
"May I join you on your walk?" asked Mr. Dalligan, offering his arm.
"Of course" she answered, taking his arm. They walked in silence for a few minutes, Jane still thinking about security, marriage, and Mr. Bingley.
"You seem deep in thought" he commented, his green eyes attempting to pierce into her soul. And perhaps if she had not been weary of men and love, one look into those eyes and she would have been sold. But alas, that was not the case.
"I was pondering on reasons or purpose for circumstances that perhaps feelings like pain or love can obscure" she said seriously, looking at her hands as she spoke.
"Who has broken your beautiful heart, Miss Bennet?" he asked, in a teasing voice, veiling deep interest.
Jane stopped walking, surprised at his forwardness, but she composed herself and for once, answered honestly.
"I do not believe it was broken" she said, something in her eyes implying complete truth. "I was certainly affected but the more I think about it, I realize that it was truly a gift, for more than one reason."
Mr. Dalligan stared at her intently, his striking green eyes peering through her soul. She had spoken truthfully in a matter that was private. She seemed to keep surprising him and at the same time, drawing him in.
"I cannot imagine anyone who would let you go, Miss Bennet" he said, not believing that anyone had.
"I find you bring out of me a truthfulness or perhaps a forwardness I was always taught to hide. I apologize" she said, taking a deep breath, "I do not know what has come over me"
"No, please, Miss Bennet, do not apologize, we are to be friends for each other, are we not?" he asked, smirking at her.
"Yes, that we are" she said, smiling brightly. "So what of your heart, Mr. Dalligan? For someone so rich and handsome, it must have been touched"
"You find me handsome?" he asked, smiling broadly.
"Not particularly. I said that as an objective statement, of course" she said, teasing him. Oh, how naughty I feel, this must be what Lizzy feels whenever she teases others.
"Of course" he repeated, mocking her. "I do not believe men have hearts, Miss Bennet"
"Oh that I do not believe" she responded, "Men, perhaps, are expected to not show true depth of feeling or they are forgiven for showing too much, or not enough, or changing their interests, their hearts might be taciturn but not unfeeling. It is women who are supposed to have a heart made of glass, only to be touched once, but keep shiny for others to admire"
"Is that truly what you believe, Miss Bennet?" he asked, now stopping in his tracks.
"Is that not so? Can a woman speak her mind? Share her heart? Is she allowed to let others know what she feels? Are words like passion or excitement in her vocabulary? No, women must feel but not speak" she said, her words serious and true.
"I would not want such a woman" he responded, "I do have a heart, Miss Bennet, and like yours, I believe it was only touched"
"My, this conversation has turned rather solemnly, let me think rapidly of proper topics for conversations with a mere acquaintance" she teased, lightening the mood.
They were both grateful for a chance to liven the conversation and that they did. The rest of the conversation was lighthearted and left both individuals feeling happy and at ease. A clap of thunder broke up the party, as each member had to venture home. Mr. Dalligan let Miss Bennet know that he would be leaving London for a few weeks but would call on her upon his return. As a friend, whispered Jane, reminding herself that that was all he wanted. But Jane had found a new happiness that she would not let any man destroy. She enjoyed his company and like men, she was allowed to enjoy the company of others without thinking of the future. Or at least, that she is what she told herself.
PNPNPNP
The next two weeks went by rather quickly—bringing along new acquaintances and new gatherings. Mrs. Gardiner had kept to her word and had extended her efforts to introduce Jane to good society. Jane for her part had enjoyed meeting the Gardiners' friends, who were really lovely people. The more time that she spent with those in trade, the more she saw the value in people who were self-made. Like her dear aunt and uncle, they were respectful and acted every part the gentry.
There was one invitation that she had not expected. Mrs. Caresol had managed to invite Miss Bennet to a ball held by one of society's finest families. Mrs. Gardiner insisted they order a new dress and Jane quietly relented. She still had some pin money and decided it was better spent now, while in town, then when back at home.
Jane's new dress was ravishing. Thick blue silk, simple, yet refined. Mrs. Gardiner lent Jane a stunning sapphire necklace which matched perfectly.
"Perhaps Mr. Heatherfield will be there" said Mrs. Gardiner, while admiring Jane and helped her fix flowers on her hair.
"Oh, I am not so interested" she said demurely, speaking her mind now more than before. Her aunt smiled approvingly. "He seems rather..."
"Dull?" teased her aunt.
"No, not quite. I am not opposed to knowing him better, the truth is that I do not know him at all. We danced once and he stared at me for most of the time. He comes from a good family, I suppose, and has a lot to recommend him, but does not strike me as someone who is constant" explained Jane.
"Dearest Jane, you mustn't let your recent disappointment dictate how you view all men" said her aunt, putting another flower on her hair.
"I hope I am not, aunt" replied Jane softly, "I would like to think I'm beginning to listen more rather than see what is not there"
Mrs. Gardiner did not reply, she simply pursed her lip, stopping herself from saying more. Mrs. Caresol would be accompanying Jane and had arrived a few minutes after this short conversation to bring Miss Bennet to the ball.
The ball was as a beautiful as a ball was meant to be. There were candles lit throughout the room, beautiful music playing, and a sea of people waiting to be seen and see. Jane walked in timidly, though pushed through her natural shyness. She would enjoy the night. She had not thought of Caroline in weeks that is until she was her in the corner of the room. Jane decided she had nothing to hide, for she no longer cared for her good opinion and therefore approached her.
"Miss Bingley" said Jane, curtsying. "I am sorry I missed your call a few weeks ago"
"Oh hello Miss Bennet" said Caroline, rather coldly, "It is of no consequence. How did you manage to get invited to the Rothchild's Ball? This is very high society, if you must know"
Caroline's desire for superiority had never been more visible than now—when Caroline was not longer looking to please.
"I am a gentleman's daughter, Caroline" responded Jane, a smirk threatening to appear on her face. How did you? Jane did not dare say that out-loud for though she had become more outspoken and had vacillated in the world of teasing, her true essence was always kind and she would never use words to hurt another person.
Caroline ignored her comment and seemed preoccupied with something or rather someone that she saw.
"Oh my, Viscount Crawley is coming over here" exclaimed Miss Bingley, fanning her fan rapidly and puckering her lips. "I hope someone is nearby to introduce us!" she whispered, looking frantically around.
"Whom do you mean?" said Jane, turning around slowly. She looked around to see who she could possibly be talking about, since by her voice, he would be someone of distinction. But she did not notice anyone out of the particular. Instead, she saw Mr. Dalligan, walking towards her with a smirk on his face. Oh how handsome he looks, she thought.
"Miss Bennet, you look lovely this evening" he said, taking her hand and kissing it lighting.
"Mr. Dalligan" Jane responded, curtsying slightly. "Welcome back to London"
"I came back two nights ago, my sister implored me to attend" he replied.
"You sister? Is she here?" asked Jane, interested in meeting his family. They had never spoken about them. "Oh, let me introduce you to my friend, Miss Caroline Bingley. Miss Bingley, this is Mr. Dalligan" she said. If she had not become overly suspicious, she would have missed the slight twitch in his eye when she said his name.
"My pleasure" said Caroline, putting out her hand. To her disappointment, he merely took it but did not kiss it. "Though my dearest Jane, I believe you are mistaken. This is Viscount Crawley"
Jane looked surprised and thought perhaps she had not heard right. Mr. Dalligan stood there quietly.
"Miss Bennet, may I have the next dance?" he asked, reaching for her hand.
"You may" Jane responded slowly, not sure what had just happened. She excused herself with Miss Bingley and let Mr. Dalligan lead her to the dance floor.