Disclaimer: I don't own Pride and Prejudice, all rights go to Jane Austen
Summary: See previous chapters
Chapter Nine
Playing Chaperone was harder when Jane longed to be walking with her own suitor, and was forced to keep her courtship secret.
Mr McKnight had been visiting far more frequently, but between Mama's nerves and his parishioners needing advice on one thing or another, he and Mary had not had the chance to speak privately. Finally, Jane had given up a dress that no longer quite fit her, and a handful of ribbons, to bribe Kitty and Lydia to sit with Mama for a while, sparing Mary the chore. Lizzy was on hand to deal with any tenant issues that might arise, which allowed Jane to usher the two out on a walk around the gardens in the winter sunshine.
It was rather bothersome, to watch a young couple in the early stages of courtship, when Jane had to keep her own courtship secret and her love was far away. Firmly, she reminded herself not to be bitter and spoil Mary's day, keeping several paces back to preserve at least the illusion of privacy amid the requirement of propriety. There had been no mention of courtship so far, but Mr McKnight had requested the privilege of calling on her after Church on Sunday.
It was a touch ironic, that the holy day was also the one when a churchman was most at leisure, outside of services, but perhaps even the Divine had a sense of humour. However, today was Thursday, and a young man came sprinting along the path, gasping out the news that Mr Jones said that the Widow Brown would soon be in need of last rights. Mr McKnight straightened, and Mary released his arm. "Mrs Brown has only sons, I believe. We have some black cloth that can be made into arm-bands, Jane and I will bring a basket over as soon as may be."
Mr McKnight smiled gratefully, then hurried to the stables and departed at a gallop. Mary sighed, and led the way back into the house. "I suppose you are best able to sympathise over something forever getting in the way of spending time together."
First Jane had taken ill when visiting Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst, then there had been the preparations for the Netherfield ball, and now whatever dreadful business required Mr Bingley's presence in the North. How she longed to see him again! She changed the subject. "Have we any black fabric? It was kind of you to suggest making the armbands."
Mary nodded. "I have some black ribbon left over from trimming my brown dress, and while we have all quite outgrown the mourning wear from when Grandmother Bennet died, I believe it is in good enough condition to repurpose."
Grandmother Bennet had died of the same fever that had taken their infant brother, likely the reason that Mama had gone to the expense of having mourning clothes made for her eldest three girls, all still under the care of a nursemaid at the time. Likely they were in storage somewhere. "Will you brave the attic, or shall I?"
Mary smiled briefly, "I will. A layer of dust cannot make my appearance much worse, but Mama will certainly notice it on you."
Jane frowned; Mary was too severe upon herself sometimes. "You are a tulip among roses, Mary. It is not that you are unattractive, just that your beauty is a different sort to mine or Kitty's or Lydia's, and society places unequal value on certain features."
Mary glanced down, smoothing a hand over the skirt of the high-necked dress she wore. "My preferred style does not help, I know. It is severe, and does not flatter me, but I find I cannot bear having curls in my face; it is too distracting."
Mary was rather sensitive to even the smallest sort of irritant. But here, at least, was something Jane could offer advice on. "The circulating library had a magazine on Continental fashions, I believe. Sir Phillip, the last person to lease Netherfield before Mr Bingley, mentioned how different the ladies' hairstyles were in Greece and Italy."
It stuck out in Jane's memory as one of the few things Sir Phillip had said that were not about himself. Jane could easily converse with a boring man, but a self-centred one weighed on her patience. Discouraging him from proposing had been a trial, but Jane had been only sixteen at the time, too young for a man of thirty-six to have been offering for her at all.
Jane loved her family, but not so much that she would condemn herself to a life of torment when, as Mama had assured her, she was certain to receive other offers. It would have been dreadful, to have to greet Mr Bingley as a married woman, eternally deprived of the love she was experiencing now.
They parted ways, Mary to the house, and Jane to the dairy and kitchens, to see what could be spared. Did any of the Brown sons know how to cook for themselves? Perhaps a wheel of cheese and a loaf of bread would be more appropriate…
The reply to Jane's letter came while she and Mary were delivering the charity basket to the recently bereaved Brown family. It came with a parcel, which had the entire household in a flurry of curiosity.
Papa's insistence that Jane be allowed to read the letter in private before sharing the contents was probably more for his own amusement than her comfort, but Jane would not look a gift horse in the mouth.
My dearest Jane,
I miss you greatly, and regret that I cannot reassure you of my constancy in person. Please be assured, there is no understanding between myself and Miss Darcy, who is barely fifteen and not yet out. Darcy has occasionally commented that he would entrust his sister's hand to no man who was not at least as kind and trustworthy as myself, but there have been no arrangements, formal or informal.
How very wonderful of Mr Bingley, to address her concerns immediately. Jane hadn't been worried, precisely, but Miss Bingley's letter had been upsetting, and it was kind of him to reassure her.
No doubt you have noticed Caroline's own matrimonial ambitions, and her desire to further them in any way possible.
Thank you for acting on my behalf at Netherfield, I have no idea what possessed Caroline to act as such, and I would have been mortified to appear as such a lackluster employer and neighbour! My reputation would have been set as capricious and unreliable, and may never have recovered!
I have told Mrs Nichols that any further instructions from Caroline are to be confirmed with me, as well as assuring her of my plans to return and requesting that she keep the staff on.
That would certainly set the tongues wagging. However, as Miss Bingley had so clearly expressed her desire to never return to Hertfordshire, it could be of little concern to her.
I realise that will inspire gossip, but it is clearly time that Caroline felt some consequence to her actions.
When I left notes regarding my extended absence, I did not yet have a forwarding address, as you know. It is not unreasonable to think that Caroline expected me to be in London, though that does not excuse her actions. I suppose Darcy thought to inform me of their departure in person upon their arrival. He is unfalteringly honest in his dealings, but my friend's great failing is his tendency to assume that he is correct in all things, even when he is not.
I do not know if you have heard of the unrest in the north? Many of the local factory workers are unhappy with the proposed modernising of the factories, and riots are feared.
That is why the Board keeps me on, despite my lack of experience; I am good at resolving such conflicts. I fear, however, that there will not be a quick resolution, my dear, and I shall likely miss Christmas with you.
You have spoken before of resolving tenant disputes, and an uncle in Shipping? I welcome any advice you may offer.
Faithfully yours,
Charles Bingley
P.S. While it may be outrageous for a mere courting couple, in the interest of diplomacy, I spent the day touring the local merchants and purchasing gifts. I believe that Caroline could stand a reminder of her roots, and I hope a gift will compensate your mother for my inability to share her table this year.
Lydia was all but bouncing on the couch next to Mama. "Oh, Jane, may we open the parcel? What can it be?"
Kitty and Mary were rigidly still in the way that meant they were only barely preventing themselves from fidgeting in anticipation. "What did the letter say?"
Jane glanced at Papa, who only looked amused. At least he was not making any comments designed to worsen Mama's nerves. "When Mr Bingley wrote to Papa to request that he make his excuses, he also asked to court me. We planned to announce it when he returned and our families could celebrate properly. Papa gave permission for us to correspond. Mr Bingley apologises that he will likely not return in time for Christmas, and sent gifts ahead. So, Lydia, I should probably make you wait until Aunt and Uncle Gardiner visit before you are allowed to open it."
Lydia draped herself over the arm of the couch with a dramatic wail worthy of a London Theatrical, her wide smile making it clear that it was only a jest. Papa rustled his newspaper disapprovingly, and Lizzy rolled her eyes. Jane continued as if none of them had reacted, "But as it will be difficult for me to properly thank Mr Bingley without knowing the contents, I will allow you to open it early, if you avoid gossiping on this matter."
That would be a tall order for Mama and Lydia, who delighted in sharing good news with anyone who would listen, but curiosity carried the day in the end. They promised, and were permitted to open the parcel.
Mr Bingley had excellent taste in gifts, even if they were intended to placate his disgruntled workers. Fine lace gloves for Mama and Jane, a set of three handkerchiefs edged in Irish lace for all five Bennet sisters, each of the gifts wrapped in a shawl or scarf of fine wool.
Kitty gasped as she ran a hand over her scarf, "It's so soft, and does not itch as wool usually does."
The fourth Bennet sister shared Mary's sensitivity to fabric textures, and her delight warmed Jane's heart.
Mama was, indeed, very pleased at the gifts, urging Jane to write back immediately. Mr Bingley's messenger would likely stop by tomorrow morning, if his pattern held true, which gave Jane time to pen a response, and perhaps to embroider one of the handkerchiefs and sent it back with her next letter.
.
.
.
.
A/N: Culture note - While women were expected to dress fully in black during the first stage of mourning, men could get away with a black armband.
In a household of young men who have just lost the only female family member, however, there isn't likely to be much sewing ability around, and having to purchase black armbands would be an additional expense and effort during a time of grief. Mary might have suggested in order to demonstrate her care for the community to a would-be suitor, but that doesn't make the gesture less meaningful.