Page 48 of Cousin Conundrum

Something niggled at Elizabeth’s mind. Some stray thought. Had she not seen the name Madame Dentelle in one of her father’s papers? Not in an article she read, but one she may have skimmed past?

Which reminded her, she’d yet to look through his papers for any mention of a Mrs. Archer. She felt certain she recalled seeing the name in writing somewhere. If only she followed gossip as closely as she did the war, politics, and theater, she would recall the articles.

Of course, she would also be driven mad, for gossip was the province of minds like Kitty’s and Lydia’s.

“Yes. Everyone knows Madame Dentelle closed her shop and fled in the night, taking her wares with her.” Miss Bingley’s smile betrayed a smug twist. “Undoubtedly for quick sales to women like the Archers. Quite scandalous, really.”

“Caroline, you must not go about spreading such scurrilous rumors,” Mr. Bingley snapped.

“‘A gossip betrays a confidence, but a trustworthy person keeps a secret,’” Mary intoned.

Miss Bingley’s eyebrows rose. “Speculation on their wardrobe is hardly scurrilous, or a secret. It is not as if I said I caught one of them kissing Mr. Darcy or some such.”

Elizabeth’s gaze snapped to Miss Bingley.

Who smirked.

Mortification and fear raced through Elizabeth. Had Miss Bingley seen them? Or had Mr. Darcy, caddishly, boasted of his conquest? But what had he said, that he’d kissed a ‘short, dark-haired,’ sister? Heat threatened Elizabeth’s cheeks. She willed it away and attempted to muster a questioning look, as if she had no idea to what Miss Bingley referred.

“Ugh,” Lydia groaned dramatically. “Let us not speak of Mr. Darcy. He was so rude when we danced. I was made to carry the entire conversation.”

Mrs. Bennet beamed at her. “In which case I am certain you impressed him. You are such a lively conversationalist.”

“Yes, indeed.” Miss Bingley’s smirk remained. “He mentioned quite expressly the impression Miss Lydia made on him.”

Lydia sat up straighter.

Kitty coughed.

Elizabeth darted a look at her in sudden suspicion. Did Kitty only cough when something happened that might draw laughter from her? Was that why none of the local apothecary’s potions could cure her of the ailment?

“We are fortunate it was no warmer on the evening of the assembly,” Jane said lightly, casting Elizabeth a pleading look. “Often, the September assembly is sweltering.”

Mr. Bingley turned to her in relief. “Yes, we have had very fine weather. Which rather brings me to the point of our call.”

“The point?” Mrs. Bennet cut in. “Did you not call to see Jane?”

Pink bloomed in Jane’s cheeks and she dropped her gaze from Mr. Bingley’s.

“Ah, I…” Mr. Bingley gulped.

“We called to invite you to a picnic at Netherfield Park,” Miss Bingley said smoothly.

Fresh alarm sounded in Elizabeth’s head.

“Yes.” Mr. Bingley’s attention returned to Jane. “Miss Laura suggested a picnic, and it is a jolly fine notion, do you not agree?”

Jane raised a face made even more lovely by the remnant of her blush. “Certainly it is.”

While her older sister smiled happily at Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth’s mind clamored. A picnic? They meant to secure Mr. Bingley, and then Jane’s chances would be lost. Jane must have more time with him to capture his affections first. Perhaps even draw from him a proposal. “When?” Elizabeth blurted.

Mrs. Bennet cast her a frown, but merely added, “Yes, do tell us when we may expect this happy occasion?”

“I have already sent to London for some delicacies,” Miss Bingley said primly. “We will picnic three days hence.”

“Do you care for picnics, Miss Bennet?” Mr. Bingley asked, still focused on Jane.

“I do.” Jane dropped her gaze demurely.