Page 10 of Such Low Connections

“Should I, my dear?” he enquired mildly. “I cannot imagine why you might think so when you have not consulted me yet. To what does your secret knowledge pertain?”

“To Mr Darcy, of course!” Mrs Bennet snapped in exasperation. “I am trying to tell you that there are stronger reasons for my not wishing him under our roof. If I were not so averse to low gossip, I should have spoken to you before now.”

“Ah well, then I suppose it must all remain a mystery,” Mr Bennet sighed with a small smile. He re-opened his book, much to Mrs Bennet’s frustration. “Never mind.”

“Does it not matter to you at all that Mr Darcy may well be illegitimate?”

Jane looked horrified, and Elizabeth frowned strongly at her loose-lipped parent. Mrs Bennet preened triumphantly as though believing herself to have played a trump card. Only Mr Bennet in his armchair seemed entirely unmoved.

“You ought not to listen to Lydia’s prattling, Mother,” warned Elizabeth. “We all know that Lydia’s head is filled only with dancing, dresses, and anticipation of the militia’s arrival in Meryton. That is a terrible thing to say about anyone, and with no evidence to support it. None of us should repeat it, and Lydia ought to be taught to hold her tongue.”

“I had it from Lady Lucas herself, who had it from Mary King’s aunt,” Mrs Bennet defended herself. “I dare say Lydia had it from Mary King. Well, everyone is saying the same thing, and you cannot blame me for that, Lizzy, nor Lydia.”

“Mother,” Elizabeth began again, seeing how upset Jane was, and trying hard to maintain tact and respect in taking Mrs Bennet to task. “You must see —”

Any further reproof, however, was interrupted by Mr Bennet’s laughter.

“How very amusing,” he chortled. “You do my heart good with your ridiculous jokes, Mrs Bennet. How high my spirits are now!”

“I make no joke, Mr Bennet,” his wife protested, dismayed by his reaction. “Being born out of wedlock is no laughing matter in my view. Coming from Lady Lucas and Mrs King, I have no reason to doubt its veracity.”

This assertion only made her husband laugh harder, even taking out a handkerchief and dabbing at his eyes.

“With such unimpeachable sources, the gossip must be correct. Do you think Lady Lucas and Mrs King would be so kind as to pass on more of their infallible knowledge? Perhaps something of the weather to guide next year’s planting? Or some future winning horses at Ascot?”

As he spoke, Mr Bennet rose from his chair and went to the door, still laughing and shaking his head with hilarity as he departed.

Mrs Bennet followed shortly after him, calling for their housekeeper and complaining loudly of her nerves as she stamped upstairs to take to her bed.

“How could she talk like that?” Elizabeth demanded of Jane as soon as they were alone. “It seems that our mother has put herself at the centre of some of the most undignified and degrading gossip in the neighbourhood, but she will not be told. It is no wonder that Lydia is as she is with such an example.”

“How awful,” Jane agreed, her face pale and her blue eyes distressed. “Poor Mr Darcy! I cannot bear the thought of such horrible rumours reaching his ears. It will not make him think any more warmly of our neighbourhood, will it?”

Elizabeth shook her head grimly.

“Mr Darcy might be cold, proud and rude, but it is very wrong that people should talk like this of him behind his back,” she said. “If Mother and her friends had merely criticised his manners and attitude, I certainly should not defend him, for that would be his own doing and well-deserved. This rumour, however, reflects far more badly on the gossips themselves than on Mr Darcy.”

“I quite agree with you,” said Jane. “Poor Mr Darcy, and poor Mr Bingley. I do hope that this fades away before either of them hears of it.”

Their conversation paused then, on hearing the sound of approaching hoofbeats outside. Both going to the window, they saw a servant tie his horse at Longbourn’s front gate and proceed up the path to meet Mrs Hill, who wiped her hands on her apron before taking receipt of an envelope from the man.

“I wonder who that is from?” Elizabeth thought aloud. “He does not look like he rode very far, does he? Maybe Aunt Philips is organising another afternoon of card games in Meryton.”

Jane shook her head.

“Aunt Philips never loses the chance to walk over to Longbourn herself and be the first to pass any new gossip to Mother.”

“True,” Elizabeth acknowledged the point. “Come, let us go and see for ourselves.”

Emerging into the hallway, they almost collided with Mrs Bennet, who had also seen the messenger from an upstairs window and changed her mind about taking to her bed. Mr Bennet too, though more reluctantly, came out of his library again after hearing all the voices in the hallway.

“I knew it!” their mother pronounced triumphantly as soon as she took the envelope from the housekeeper and read the address. “It is from Netherfield Park, and addressed to Jane.”

For a moment, it seemed that Mrs Bennet would open the envelope itself in her excitement. At the last moment, she remembered herself and passed it to her eldest daughter. While Jane did not display the same obvious excitement and impatience as her mother, Elizabeth saw her sister bite her lip and tremble slightly as she broke the wax seal and unfolded the paper.

“Well, Jane, what does it say?” Mrs Bennet demanded before there had been time to even read the full message. “Is it from Mr Bingley?”

Elizabeth looked askance at her mother, who was well aware of the impropriety of a gentleman writing to an unmarried young lady outside his family circle. Mrs Bennet, however, noticed nothing of this.