Page 23 of A Most Favourable Match

The usual black-coated butler opened the door and greeted them in respectful terms, but then, before Elizabeth could enquire after the household, Miss Caroline Bingley came tripping across the hallway, already wearing a fine blue travelling coat and matching hat in the latest style.

“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, how lovely to see you. Alas, as you see, I am in no position to offer you tea today. If you had come half an hour later, I should have been gone too, with my sister and Mr Hurst. My brother and Mr Darcy have already ridden ahead, and we will follow as soon as Mr Hurst is ready.”

“We are sorry to see you go, Miss Bingley,” Jane responded in a voice tinged with both disappointment and relief. “I did not realise you would be leaving so soon, or I would have come to bid you farewell sooner.”

Elizabeth nodded agreement, although she herself was sorry only that the neighbourhood should be deprived of Mr Bingley’s cheerful presence. Jane might have been friendly with Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst in London, and their goodwill towards her had continued in Hertfordshire, if in a slightly patronising fashion. None of this, however, had ever extended to Elizabeth.

“Returning to London was a sudden decision on my brother’s part, although I cannot say I am sorry for it,” Miss Bingley confided, with rather a superior smile. “I look forward to being in town again and enjoying the remainder of the Season. I am only sorry that you will not be with us, Miss Bennet. You must write and tell me when you next come to London.”

“When do you return to Netherfield Park?” Elizabethasked. “Does Mr Bingley plan to give up the lease?”

Miss Bingley turned her supercilious blue eyes on Elizabeth and smiled. “Who can say?” she replied coolly. “He has not mentioned returning.”

“I shall be sorry if Mr Bingley gives up the lease,” Jane said. “We all will, shall we not, Lizzy?”

Again, Elizabeth nodded, only partly agreeing with Jane, but surprised to find her sister making such heartfelt statements. Miss Bingley was Jane’s friend, but hardly a close one, and Mrs Hurst was little more than a passing acquaintance. Elizabeth hoped Jane was not feeling guilty, worrying that she was the reason that Mr Bingley was abandoning his new home so soon.

“Well, we must not keep you, Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth said, taking Jane’s arm again. “We wish you all a safe journey back to London.”

After farewells and curtsies were exchanged, the front door closed, and the two Bennet sisters walked back along the drive away from Netherfield Park in thoughtful silence. It was only when they left the garden and entered on the meadow path that Jane spoke again.

“Oh, Lizzy. I hope that nothing bad has happened to make Mr Bingley leave like this. He seemed such a good man, and I do not like to think of him being unhappy.”

“I should not imagine so,” answered Elizabeth, as cheerfully as she could, although puzzled by her sister’s moods. “Miss Bingley hardly seemed distressed, did she? No, I expect his sisters wished to be in Londonagain, and perhaps Mr Darcy too. Mr Bingley is so amenable that he has agreed to it. I expect he will be back again in the autumn sometimes, at least for sport.”

Jane nodded and gave a long sigh.

“Do you want to rest?” Elizabeth asked. “We can sit on the fence over there for a while if you like? I know I walk too fast for everyone else.”

At first, Jane seemed minded to refuse, but when Elizabeth led her over to the fence anyway, she acceded and sat down.

“I’m worried about you, Jane,” Elizabeth admitted. “You have not been yourself for a while, and these last two weeks, since Lord Grantchester left, you have seemed quite out of sorts.”

Jane started and looked almost guilty, as though caught in the commission of some crime or offence. “I have not meant to disturb you or the rest of the family. I hope I have not been cross or impatient.”

“Not one bit,” Elizabeth said quickly. “You are your usual too-patient, too-understanding self. It is only that you are so quiet and you seem sad. Is it so very hard to be parted from Lord Grantchester?”

At this question, Jane looked disoriented, almost as if she did not understand the words or had forgotten the name of her betrothed.

“It is not so hard, no,” Jane answered after a short pause for reflection. “Lord Grantchester wrote to me last week, remember. London sounds rather merry, and Lord Keeble sent his regards to our whole family. I havenot thought about Lord Grantchester very much at all, except to enjoy his letter and hope for his good health.”

“Oh,” replied Elizabeth, bemused by this response. “Well, I am glad that neither of you is struggling with the separation.”

“Why should we?” asked Jane with a shrug. “Lord Grantchester will be back again next week, or the week after. It is not as though he is ever so far away. I dare say he might write again, too.”

“I suppose you are right,” Elizabeth responded uncertainly, not knowing what to make of such quiet acceptance and apparent equanimity from both sides. “It is not as though he has gone to America or China or Australia…”

At this, Jane giggled, making Elizabeth realise how long it was since she had heard her sister laugh out loud. It was good to hear her laughter once again.

“No, indeed,” her older sister commented with a smile. “London is really not far at all when you think of it like that, Lizzy.”

“But do you really not mind waiting a year to marry?” Elizabeth asked Jane. “Everyone else seems in such a rush about it.”

“I don’t mind at all,” answered Jane, her own expression somewhat surprised. “I always thought I should want to be married quickly, but now that it is happening, I find that a year’s wait seems nothing at all.”

This engagement of Jane’s really was notanything like love stories in novels or poetry, Elizabeth reflected to herself. Well, maybe this should be a lesson to her that such things were not to be trusted. If love did not really make people ache and burn to be together, if it did not send them mad with passion, was that not all for the best?

But in that case, how did Mr and Mrs Bennet ever come to be married? It seemed improbable that either would have wed the other with a cool head or for sensible reasons. There must have been some sort of madness there. How confusing it all was!