Page 49 of Cousin Conundrum

Which would normally please Elizabeth, for Jane’s conduct was always exemplary, but today only irked her. Jane did not know how short her time grew. If she wished to beguile Mr. Bingley, she must do so quickly. “Jane has a great love of nature. In fact, she was out in the garden sketching roses only this morning, were you not, Jane?”

Jane blinked at her in confusion. As well she might, for she had not sketched the roses in days.

“Why do you not take Mr. Bingley out to see them while we wait for our tea?” Elizabeth continued.

Everyone stared at her, and Elizabeth realized she sounded very much like her mother. She met their gazes squarely, wishing she could convey her urgency and wondering if Mrs. Bennet daily lived with the same desperation to see her daughters married as Elizabeth now felt for Jane.

Mr. Bingley recovered quickly and, to Elizabeth’s relief, said, “I would be pleased to see the roses that so beguile you, Miss Bennet.” He stood, offering his hand.

Jane smiled radiantly as she placed her palm in his. As they passed on their way from the parlor, she cast Elizabeth a grateful look.

Miss Bingley’s weight shifted forward, very much like she meant to stand.

“Miss Bingley,” Kitty said from the other side of Elizabeth. “Do tell us what you ordered from London. A hint, at least, so we may revel in anticipation.”

Miss Bingley looked from Kitty to her retreating brother and back. She frowned for a moment, then relaxed her mouth into something that might be called a smile. “For a start, I have ordered a great deal of ice. You cannot imagine all the lovely delicacies to which ice can contribute.”

“Do not tell us there will be ices?” Kitty cried in delight.

“Certainly. Not only ices, but three flavors of ices.”

Kitty gasped, her stunned joy so perfect that Elizabeth nearly believed the act.

“I have never tasted ices,” Mary said dolefully. “Nor have you, Kitty, so you cannot know if you will care for them.”

“Only Jane has,” Lydia added and Elizabeth hid a grimace as Miss Bingley’s gaze snapped back to the now empty parlor doorway.

“What flavors?” Kitty demanded, radiating excitement. “Oh, do tell, please?”

Miss Bingley settled back on the couch again. “Lemon and raspberry, to be certain, and I am debating between orange flower and lavender.”

“But what of chocolate?” Lydia asked.

“Or coffee?” Mary added. “I saw in a listing that Gunter’s sells coffee ices.”

Miss Bingley made a face. “Have you tasted coffee, Miss Mary?”

Mary shook her head. “Papa has never permitted me to try, but it smells delightful.”

“It is terribly bitter.”

“Which is why it suits Mr. Bennet,” Mrs. Bennet muttered so low, Elizabeth nearly missed the words.

She cast her mother a surprised look, but Mrs. Bennet gazed in the direction of the garden, as if she could see through the walls and outside, her expression intent.

Tea arrived soon, and Kitty, Elizabeth rallying to assist, continued to pepper Miss Bingley about the picnic, diverting her from sending for her brother. It was not until they’d consumed two pots of tea and enough cakes, biscuits, and little sandwiches that Elizabeth felt quite stuffed that Miss Bingley finally put an end to the call and insisted on locating Mr. Bingley. He was found strolling in the garden with Jane, and the siblings departed.

Given how happy Jane looked, Elizabeth felt the afternoon to be quite successful, though she couldn’t put Miss Bingley’s jab from her mind. What did she know? What had she seen? Or was she simply prodding about for reactions? Seeking information to use?

Did Miss Bingley’s motives or knowledge even matter? Surely, if she somehow knew of the kiss Elizabeth had exchanged with Mr. Darcy, Miss Bingley had designs on him and would therefore tell no one.

***

The day of the picnic dawned crisp and cool, making Kitty’s rounds of morning gossip all the more pleasant. At least, weather wise. Inside the tumult of her head, she wrestled with how to keep an Archer from trapping Mr. Bingley into a proposal. She should have found a means to return to spy on them more, but Mrs. Bennet had kept them very busy altering their gowns for the picnic, meaning Kitty still had only vague knowledge of the Archers’ plans.

Despite the fine weather, it surprised her when she returned to the house and opened the scullery door to find Elizabeth. Odder still, Elizabeth was not dressed for walking. She appeared to be there waiting. How would Elizabeth know where to wait for her unless—

“Have you been spying on me?” Kitty demanded through the open doorway. She resisted the urge to pat her skirt pocket to ensure her little journal hid safely inside.