A Sister's Curse

by Jayne Bamber

  Jane looked up, and nearly recoiled in surprise. “Oh! Lizzy, I am sorry – I did not expect to see you before Mamma and Mary returned.”

  “I did not expect to arrive before them – I had understood she wished me to come look over our apparel for the ball. I was surprised to hear you were home alone.”

  Jane blushed. “I confess I asked to stay home while they went to the shops to retrieve our things. Perhaps they were detained. I... I have been practicing my instrument again recently – ever since our conversation at Christmas. It is only that I do not wish to make it known quite yet. I feared I would perform amiss, after so long.”

  “I can assure you that is not the case,” Richard replied.

  “No indeed,” Elizabeth agreed. “Your playing has only gotten better. But that was not the music Mary gifted us – I did not recognize the tune at all.”

  “My own composition, in fact,” Jane said shyly. “My goodness, where are my manners? Shall I call for tea?”

  Elizabeth and Richard took seats on the sofa at Jane’s behest, answering that the refreshments would be most welcome. Though Elizabeth suspected her timid sister had tried to turn the subject away from herself, Richard pressed on once the tea was brought out to them.

  “I had no notion you were a composer, Cousin Jane.”

  “Oh, no – not really. It is what I do to acclimate myself at the instrument before I truly begin to apply myself, especially when I have not practiced in some time.”

  Richard leaned into her, smiling quixotically. “You mean to tell me that beautiful playing was the idle work of a moment?”

  “Yes, I suppose.” Jane blushed again and looked away. “Tell me, how does Cousin Charlotte?”

  “She is well. You ought to come and visit more, I think she would like that.”

  “Then I shall,” Jane replied, smiling brightly.

  Elizabeth watched their exchange with some curiosity. “I went to see her yesterday and she was asking after you,” Elizabeth said. “I daresay she was quite wishing me away, however, for she had a rather handsome caller when I arrived.”

  “Did she?” Richard looked askance at Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth frowned. Richard had been away when she had called the day before, and she suspected she knew why. Every time she had come to Darcy House in the last two weeks, with the exception of Christmas, and every time her mother and sisters called on her, Darcy and Richard were away at their club or visiting friends. William was clearly avoiding her, and seemed bent on pressing Richard to do the same. After all, if his feelings for her were what he professed, surely he was not staying away on his own.

  She considered all they had discussed, and his determination to blame her for their having spoken so little; Richard had let William claim all of his afternoons, keeping him away from her. Provoked, she replied, “Indeed – Mr. Steventon was there with his sister, Miss Amelia. I know her a little, and we chatted together while her brother was occupied with Charlotte, but eventually Mr. Steventon would address me too, and he asked for my first two dances at the ball.”

  “What a shocking thing,” Jane gasped. “Was Charlotte very much offended?”

  “No indeed – she laughed about it later, when we were alone. I was relieved that she was not cross with me, but it occurs to me now that if she would not repine over a man so handsome, he must be very unpleasant – now I am quite dreading my opening set.”

  Richard smirked at her. “You are so determined to keep your costume for the evening a great secret – perhaps he will not recognize you.”

  “Ah! A fine idea,” Elizabeth laughed. “I am sure I might evade everyone on Uncle’s list in a similar fashion, and not have to dance a single set!”

  Richard and Jane laughed, and Jane even gave Elizabeth a playful swat. They were interrupted by more callers – a footman entered to announce Mr. Bingley, Miss Caroline Bingley, and Mr. Collins. Jane gave a genuine smile as she rose to greet her visitors, and Elizabeth was no less eager to meet with the two gentlemen again. Toward Caroline Bingley, of whom she had heard varying reports over the years, she was less effusive.

  Miss Bingley was civil to Elizabeth, but no more, though she was warm and familiar with Jane and appeared eager to ingratiate herself with Richard. “I hope your brother and sister are well,” said she. “I have had the pleasure of making their acquaintance on my visits to Derbyshire.”

  “They are, thank you. Charlotte will be very well pleased to hear she is so popular today, for my cousin Elizabeth was just asking after her as well.”

  Miss Bingley glanced at Elizabeth with a thin smile before turning her attention back to Richard. “Indeed? I confess I heard some talk of dancing as we entered the house – I wondered if you were all as eager for the upcoming ball as I am.”

  Jane smiled diffidently. “My sisters and I have been working together on our costumes – they are....”

  “A great secret,” Elizabeth interjected, arching her eyebrow at her companions. Richard made a droll face at Elizabeth, and the others merely laughed.

  “I say,” Mr. Bingley cried, “I can well imagine it is appealing to maintain the mystery, but how are we to ask you to dance with us?”

  “Why yes, Jane,” Miss Bingley said sweetly, “I am sure Charles meant to ask you for your first set.”

  Jane looked over at Mr. Bingley, equal measures hopeful and fearful, and he smiled back at her. “I came with no other purpose, I assure you, Miss Darcy.”

  Elizabeth studied the look exchanged between them. Though Elizabeth thought Mr. Bingley a very amiable fellow, she was still trying to decide if some particular regard existed between him and Jane. He had called on Elizabeth once, just after Christmas, only to discover with no little mortification that he had confused Elizabeth with her cousin. She had seen him thereafter at Darcy House on two other morning visits, but after his gaffe it was clear that his attentions had shifted to Jane.

  She could not begrudge her sister for it, as she had no interest in being courted by anybody, particularly a man so wholly unsuited to her in temperament, and only hoped such a man could better please Jane. He was such a stark contrast to both of them with his lighthearted affability.

  Elizabeth had seen little of Mr. Collins since Christmas, and as she had no wish to watch Mr. Bingley’s attempts at flirting with Jane, Elizabeth turned her attention to her newfound cousin. “I hope you are well, Mr. Collins. I have been looking forward to meeting with you again.”

  Mr. Collins placed his hand on his heart and smiled, nodding deeply to her before replying, “That is very kind of you, Cousin Elizabeth. In fact, I went to Hertfordshire a few days after Christmas and returned last evening.”

  “My goodness, but I understood you had only just arrived in London. I hope you were not obliged to return by anything amiss.”

  “No indeed, it was an errand of my own devising – that is, I was very struck by our conversation at Christmas dinner. I resolved to return to Longbourn for the express purpose of retrieving certain possessions of your parents from my attic, that I had hoped I might offer to you and your sisters in the spirit of the season.”

  “Mr. Collins!” Elizabeth broke into a wide smile, struck speechless by his gesture.

  “Please, I beg you would call me Will – we are cousins, after all. I hope I might call again tomorrow and bring a few trunks I have packed up. There were a great many books belonging to your late father, as I mentioned. There were also several personal articles belonging to your parents, which my mother had carried into the attic when we took possession of Longbourn. I hope you and your sisters might enjoy looking over them – that is, they are yours to keep.”

  Elizabeth thanked him for his generosity, leaving it to Jane to make the final decision as to when they would be at home to receive him. After that, they all chatted for another quarter of an hour; Bingley and his sister remained focused on Jane, as Mr. Collins did on Elizabeth, and Richard wavered between the two separate conversations a few times, his face inscrutable.r />
  When Lady Anne and Mary returned, trailed by footmen bearing the fruits of their shopping trip, Richard stated his intention to depart, signaling to the Bingley party that it was time for them to do likewise. Elizabeth passed a cheerful hour looking over their garments with her mother and sisters, and after all their finery had been admired and proclaimed quite perfect for the occasion, Lady Anne declared herself to be rather tired, but encouraged her daughters to walk out in the back garden together for as long as they liked.

  Mary begged off, telling them she was too tired from her morning of shopping to walk in the garden, but when Jane and Elizabeth stepped outside into the crisp winter sunshine, Jane smiled happily at her sister. “I think she means for us to talk more together,” Jane observed. “You and she are already so close; I envy that.”

  Elizabeth smiled wistfully back at Jane. “It need not be like that.”

  Jane nodded. “It is all my own doing – that is what you are too generous to say. Oh Lizzy, I can hardly justify what my actions have been. I ought to have apologized to you sooner for writing you that horrid letter. Is that why you stayed away for so long?”

  “Of course it is,” Elizabeth said, knitting her brow. She had already faced one surprisingly serious conversation that day, and felt herself ill-prepared for another.

  “I just thought – I always wondered if there was more. You never got on well with William, and... and you never told me why you left in the first place.”

  “Mamma never told you?”

  Jane shook her head. “No, she did not. She told us it was because Aunt Olivia needed help in her confinement, and after she had the twins, I thought you would come back, but... sometimes I wondered if it was because you were always close with Charlotte, and that made you happy to stay in London.”

  “Jane, no! I am fond of Cousin Charlotte but you are my sister. That was not my reason at all.”

  “Will you tell me?”

  Elizabeth sighed, hugging herself as a cold breeze blew through the garden. “I do not know if it is best... I do not want to hurt you, Jane. I was very distressed when I left Pemberley. There was something – it has become a burden I have borne for many years, and I have done my best, but I would not put that burden on you now, when you are still grieving for George Wickham.”

  “Oh.” Jane nodded. “I still miss him so very much, Lizzy, but I know everybody must think it has gone on for long enough. It has been more than two years. I know Mamma is afraid I shall end an old maid, and I do not wish to. It pains me that you all see the need to treat me so... differently. William is an excellent brother, but I do not always need to be shielded from everything. I think he was right to listen to Mary about coming to London. I do wish to be more in society, to return to my former self.”

  “That is good to hear, Jane. I have never seen this side of William you speak of, but I am proud of Mary for carrying her point with him. As to being shielded from things, as you say, perhaps that is something I envy you. I have seen and heard much that I wish I had not. Ever since that Christmas… my eyes were opened far earlier than I was prepared for, Jane, and I have never been the same since then. I do love Uncle Edward with all my heart, but he is rather the opposite of how you describe William. He has shared a great many burdens with me, and it has made me rather less optimistic about being more in society, as you say.”

  “Oh. I understand that you do not wish to marry because of what Aunt Olivia was like?”

  “Not exactly. I knew her better than anybody, Jane – sometimes I think I knew her better than Uncle Edward, or at least I understood her better. I think she was just as damaged as I was from such a young age, and growing up I understood how such a thing could completely shatter one’s ability to fully love and trust another person. I do not know what I fear more, Uncle Edward’s fate, or Aunt Olivia’s.”

  “This is why you dislike William so much, because he was always unkind to her?”

  “He was, when he was around at all, and I believe he still sees me as tainted by my affection for her.”

  They had made a circuit around the garden, and Jane gestured for Elizabeth to take a seat beside her on a bench next to a little fountain. “I suppose that is the problem – he was not at Pemberley so much before you went away. He was always at school, then. After he finished and came back from his Grand Tour, he was so different. He became such an attentive brother, even attempting to help poor George in his career. He took an eager interest in Mary and I, and all our pursuits, and when he saw how much it pleased our parents, he doubled his efforts. I am sorry you were not there to come to know that side of him.”

  “I do not know that I wish for his brotherly affection, such as you and Mary enjoy. I have long since come to care not at all for it; I should merely wish to be judged on my own merit.”

  Jane was quiet, and nodded her head slowly as she stared abstractedly at the fountain. Elizabeth reached over and took Jane’s hand in hers. “You say you do not wish to be shielded… shall I tell you, then?” Jane gave a slight nod, rubbing her thumb across Elizabeth’s fingers, and the two sisters did not look up at one another until after Elizabeth had told Jane everything.

  “Oh dear,” Jane sighed at the end of it. “That must have been very difficult and confusing for you. And so you felt yourself unworthy of taking the Darcy name when Mary and I did?”

  “I felt I did not deserve anything the Darcys had ever given me, not even their love.”

  “It was because of their love they have given us so much.”

  “Yes, I know that now. It has taken me many years, Jane, to accept the truth of what I heard.”

  “I wonder that Aunt Phyllis did not speak to you of it sooner.”

  “Even when she did, I was not fully ready to hear it. My spirit at thirteen, even at seventeen... I felt everything so intensely, and the notion of a curse brought on by my own actions… well, it warped my heart and soul for so long. I am a little older now, and the dramatic heaviness of it all has settled in my heart somewhat. I do not feel everything so very intensely anymore, but I am not the same as I might have been had I never known of it.”

  “I can see how that would be. I am two years older than you and it still hurts to hear of it. I cannot imagine what I would have done if I had learned of it so young, or how I would have acted.”

  Elizabeth squeezed Jane’s hand. “I cannot tell you,” she whispered, her lip quivering as though she might weep. “I cannot tell you what it means to me to hear you say that. To have told you the truth at last. Oh, Jane!”

  Jane embraced Elizabeth and the two girls held one another for several minutes before Elizabeth pulled away. “To think of all the wasted years....”

  “No, Lizzy. You said yourself that it is only recently that you could bear it better. I am only sorry you had to bear it alone for so long.”

  “Well, Mamma and Uncle Edward have known. And Aunt Phyllis, Richard and Charlotte. Probably Uncle Henry, too. Nearly everyone, really, but no one ever wanted to speak of it.”

  “True. Mary and I have asked a few questions over the years, but Mamma and Papa would always get so quiet, and seem so wounded.”

  “I suppose it was hard for them, too. They both saw our father... you know.”

  “Oh. I suppose they did. And our mother.”

  Wishing desperately to turn the subject to happier things, Elizabeth said, “When I spoke with our cousin Collins today, he said that he went to Longbourn after Christmas and has brought us all some of their things. He wishes to call again soon and bring us these mementos of them.”

  “How very kind! Oh, I should like that so much. I had wondered what you two were speaking of. I thought perhaps you had made another conquest.”

  Elizabeth made a teasing face at her sister. “No indeed! I have no intention of doing any such thing, not with anyone. Although, I was supposing the same of you and Mr. Bingley.”

  Jane blushed. “Mr. Bingley is amiable. He is so cheerful and open, I daresay he did all the talkin
g, and between him and Caroline there was little need for me to say much of anything. We were simply speaking of the ball.”

  “Yes, Miss Bingley seemed most keen.”

  “She was very smitten with Cousin John before he married, and now he is a widower. I know it has only been six months, but I have heard their marriage was not a love match, and I promised in my last letter I would help her cause if I could.”

  “She seems eager to do the same for you, with her brother.”

  “I suppose so. William wishes it, too.”

  “And do you?”

  “I am far better acquainted with Caroline than her brother, but both she and William speak so highly of him. I only fear he thinks me too insipid – he is so lively and always at ease. I cannot see what would possibly attract him to me.”

  “I am sure the encouragement of his friend and sister must be something.”

  “I suppose it may. I thought he might ask me for my first set, but Richard beat him to it.”

  “Did he?”

  “He said that as you were already engaged for the first set, he would have to dance with us in descending order – me in the first, you in the second if you manage to survive the first, or something like that.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “That sounds like Richard.”

  “You and he are very close. I heard William say that our Uncle Henry wishes for you two to wed. Should you like such a thing? I shall not dance with him, if you do not wish it.”

  “By all means, you have given him your word! I am far from objecting, though I suspect Mr. Bingley might. He smiled at you far too much to think you insipid.”

  “Mr. Collins smiles at you a great deal,” Jane teased.

  “He is very kind, but I think we are each simply pleased at the discovery of an amiable new relation. At any rate, I remain resolved I shall never marry.”