The Letter

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The Letter Page 7

by Emma Crawley


  To distract myself, I poured another cup of coffee from the silver tableware. I needed it after my sleepless night. I cast around for something encouraging to say, but I could not think of anything. What would allow me to put Jane’s mind at ease without revealing Mr Bingley did not know she was in London? I did not know how to tell her that yet. I was forced to keep my lips closed and allow my sister to carry on in her distress even though I had the means of soothing it.

  That hateful letter.

  Aunt Gardiner was still not convinced about my change of plan. She spoke to me after breakfast.

  “Is everything truly as you say it is?” she asked. “Nothing occurred to make you leave sooner? There is nothing you wish to tell me?”

  “It is as I say,” I assured her. “I missed Jane.” I could not bear to meet her eyes as I told such a lie. I glanced away and swallowed as I took in the familiar room; the family portrait of my grandmother, the china on the walls Uncle had collected in his travels while setting up his merchant business, the old, worn books Father had sent Uncle from Longbourn. It was a cosy, familiar room, but instead of bringing me comfort, I felt a lump rise in my throat. I had always enjoyed a close, easy relationship with Aunt Gardiner. She was a few years older than me and sometimes felt more like a second older sister; one who was more pragmatic and aware of the world than Jane. The shame I felt when I lied to her was almost more than I could bear. It caused a rift between us I could hardly endure in my confused state.

  “Elizabeth, look at me.”

  I started at her use of my full name. I reluctantly raised my eyes to meet hers. She stared into mine with a probing look, her eyes scanning my face as though she searched for something. With a gentle sigh, she took my hands in hers.

  “I have known you some years now. You and Jane are almost as dear to me as daughters. My favourite nieces, though I beg of you not to tell your younger sisters that,” she added with a smile that prompted a laugh from me. “If something troubles you — and it clearly does, my dear. You were not born for ill humour, so you do not know how to hide it with any talent — I hope you will confide in me. I will do all I can to help you. You know I will. What troubles you?”

  The urge to pour my heart out was overwhelming. But I could not do so yet. Not until I was sure there were no consequences to my decision in Kent.

  “I must confess, I am troubled by a matter,” I admitted. “I have recently been in a difficult situation. I do not know if I have handled it in the best manner. I think I have, but how can I be sure?” I shook my head. “Please forgive me when I tell you I cannot speak of it just now. Not for a few days, at least. I believe I have done the right thing but by then I shall know and I promise you I will tell you all. Can that do for now?”

  Aunt’s face cleared. She nodded, though her eyes were troubled.

  “I wish you could tell me. Perhaps I can help you?”

  I smiled. “I do not think so. There is nothing to be done but wait and see. Telling you would serve little purpose.”

  “Whatever it is, I shall not be disappointed in you. That is what you fear, is it not? That you might let your family down? You need have no fear of that. I cannot vouch for your mother, but I will not blame you. You are a sensible girl. I know you will handle a situation as best as you believe you can. Do not worry I shall judge you. Besides, I believe I might already have an inkling of the matter,” she added with a wry look.

  “You do?” I cried. I stared at my aunt in horror, trying to see if she was serious.

  “It cannot be many things, my dear. You encountered Mr Darcy, did you not? You cannot have mixed with many people in Kent, so I can deduce it has something to do with him.”

  I stared at her in growing horror until she added, “Did he tell you something about Mr Bingley? Is that why you are so out of sorts? Has he told you Mr Bingley does not love Jane? Perhaps he is to marry another woman. I cannot blame you for being out of humour if you have information that would hurt Jane.”

  I was so relieved, I laughed. “No, not that, I am glad to say. But I am glad you have said it as perhaps that puts matters into perspective. I do not believe my own problem is as great as the one you have just painted.”

  “What is it then?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, I told her everything. I was so relieved to have a sensible ear to confide in, and the information bubbled out of me almost as fast as the memories flashed into my mind.

  “And so, you see I could not stay in Kent any longer. Even if Lady Catherine had not sent me away, I should have insisted on leaving. The longer Mr Darcy and I were together in Kent, the more rumours would abound. If I left, they would die away. People do not focus on such things for long, do they? They will soon forget all that passed between Mr Darcy and I. That letter will be forgotten about.”

  Aunt Gardiner rose from her chair and walked to the window. I stared at her back as she pulled the curtains to one side and looked out onto the street below.

  “What do you think?” I asked anxiously. “You do not blame me? Do you think I was in the wrong?”

  Aunt Gardiner sighed and tucked a curl behind her ear before coming to sit beside me again.

  “It is difficult for me to say,” she confessed. “If it were anyone else, I should counsel them to marry the gentleman, especially if he is as well set up as Mr Darcy. But this is you, my dearest Lizzy. I know how miserable you should be in such a marriage. But I only worry about what will happen. I hope as much as you that this will blow over and will be forgotten about within a few weeks. But, my dear, Mr Darcy is one of the most eligible men in the kingdom. Even without meeting him, I feel as if I know him, having heard so much about him. Everyone is terribly interested in him. I am not so sure it will die down so easily.”

  I looked at my aunt’s face and forced a laugh. “It cannot be as grim as all that. Mr Darcy is not nobility. One of the royal family will make a spectacle of themselves, and no one will spare a thought for an ill-tempered man from Derbyshire. Another princess will be rumoured to be with child, or Princess Charlotte will announce an engagement. I cannot believe it is as grim as all this.”

  “Yes, but you say that because it is what you want to believe, my dear,” said my aunt with a smile. “I hope you are right. But if there is gossip, it will damage your reputation. As well as your sisters’. And if that happens, what will you do then?”

  I traced a design in my muslin gown as I considered my aunt’s words. The thought had crossed my mind, but I always pushed it to one side at once. I was not yet prepared to imagine the steps I should have to take if the worst happened. But my aunt’s gaze was steady, demanding an answer.

  “If that should happen, I will speak with Mr Darcy,” I said, finally.

  “You know what that would mean?”

  I nodded. “Although that is assuming he would even want me,” I said with a smile. “Do not forget, I have rejected him more than once. I could not blame him if he decided I was not worth the bother. I already told him he can consider his honour intact as any problems will be my fault for rejecting him.”

  My aunt winced at my words, though she tried to hide it.

  “You think I did badly then?” I asked after we sat in silence for some moments, listening to the clock tick on the mantel.

  “I think you did as well as could be expected under such circumstances,” she said carefully.

  “But you think I could have done better?”

  “Oh, yes. Much better,” she admitted so readily I laughed.

  “Ah, well. Let us hope nothing comes of it. I am keeping my fingers crossed the Prince Regent will do something foolish in a day or two.”

  “I will join you in those hopes.” My aunt patted my hand. “But, if it comes to it — if you need to marry Mr Darcy. How will you feel about that? Do you hate him so much that the idea of marriage would be abhorrent to you?”

  An image of Darcy’s face flashed before me. His eyes earnest as he implored me to think about what I did. His disgust
and spirited defence of me when Mr Collins condemned me. The gentleness in his eyes when I had been afraid of the letter being found. The letter itself and the way it ended.

  “I do not hate him,” I confessed. “If anything, I am ashamed of what my feelings have been. I was too quick to condemn him. I wanted to believe the worst of him because he slighted me. But he is a far better man than I have given him credit for. But I do not wish to marry him. He is still proud and vain and above everyone. He will always see my family and me as an embarrassment, as humiliating as he finds his feelings for me. I could never give him my heart, and I could not be happy married to such a man. But I do not hate him.”

  “I suppose that is a start,” said Aunt Gardiner. “And we must hope the matter goes no further. Now, what do you say to a trip to town? I have a few orders to make, and Jane tells me you told her you were determined on some new gowns once you arrived here.”

  I smiled in relief at the change of topic. “Oh, yes. Lady Catherine likes to preserve the stations, you know. I shall find the drabbest material available, so everyone knows I am not getting ideas above my station.”

  11

  One fact about London comforted me. If I was to believe Mr Darcy, news of our encounter had travelled far and wide. Everyone would speak of our engagement or the scandal of his letter as a certainty. People would whisper and point as I passed by.

  But there was nothing of the sort. Though I spent the chief part of the day with my aunt and Jane in Bond Street, no one gave me a second glance and no one’s eyes widened when Aunt introduced me as her niece, Elizabeth Bennet, lately returned from Kent. The knot in my chest eased somewhat as the day went on and I found I could smile and laugh without forcing myself. Thank goodness I had chosen not to listen to Mr Darcy. To think, I might have married him for nothing.

  As we walked along Bond Street, I saw Jane look around at everyone who passed us by with lively interest. I called her attention to several items in a nearby window. She always responded cheerfully and added some comments of her own. But, almost of their own accord, her eyes once again travelled to the street as if eager to see someone. I was not even sure she knew she did it. How many times had she done this, searched for Mr Bingley, yearning to see his face? I glanced at my aunt to see if she had noticed. She nodded a little.

  “Come, Jane. There is a green muslin here I think is perfect for you. I told Mrs James I had to show this to my niece. If you get it made up, you can wear it to the theatre on Saturday.”

  Jane voiced an interest and agreed with my aunt’s declaration that the material was indeed perfect for her. I looked at her sadly. She would be the loveliest creature in London even without that dress. Yet she had no hopes of a suitor, even after all her months here.

  Curse Mr Darcy and his interference. Though I had gradually grown more charitable to his reasons for coming between Jane and Bingley, I still could not help feeling bitter at Jane’s destroyed prospects. The effect on her was still the same, no matter what his intentions had been. And if she had lost Mr Bingley and found no other suitors in the meantime, what would happen to her? Would she find someone else? I had always known Jane was formed for love. While I declared nothing but the deepest love would ever induce me to matrimony and could be happy without it if I never found a man I could love and respect enough to pledge my life to, Jane was different. She was not designed to be alone. Yet, what could I do to help her? If only there were a way to bring her and Mr Bingley back together again.

  As we turned away from the shop, discussing the news Uncle had read to us from his paper that morning, I collided with Jane, who had moved ahead of me. I laughed and playfully chided her for her clumsiness, but she did not respond. Her gaze was fixed on something across the street. I followed the direction of her stare and found myself looking into the cold eyes of Miss Bingley. For a moment, I was tempted to persuade Jane to pretend we had not seen her. But realising it would probably be the greater punishment to force her to speak with us, I instead gave her a cheerful smile. As there were few carriages on the street, there was nothing to prevent us from walking toward one another and meeting in the middle.

  “Perhaps she does not wish to see us?” Jane whispered as we approached. “She does not look pleased.”

  “When does she ever look pleased? If she does not wish to see us, that is too bad. She had better leave London if she cannot endure close encounters,” I responded under my breath. “Miss Bingley. What a lovely surprise. I did not expect to see you here. Jane said she had not seen you in some months, so we assumed you must have left London.”

  Miss Bingley’s haughty expression faltered for a moment. Her cheeks flushed.

  “I am afraid I have been rather busy. My time is much taken up when I am in town. People to call on, and engagements to keep…”

  “I am sure,” I said with a smile. Miss Bingley looked at me in silence for a moment.

  “And what brings you to town, Miss Eliza? I should not have thought there was much for you here. Not enough countryside for you to scamper about it.” She smiled though there was a glint in her eye.

  “Oh, there are far more places to scamper here,” I said airily. “Besides, as you say, London is full of people one wishes to see. May I enquire after your brother and sister? I hope they are in good health?”

  At the mention of Mr Bingley, Miss Bingley’s eyes flicked to Jane.

  “They are in excellent health, thank you. Both of them are much engaged. My sister is expecting her first child at the end of the summer.”

  Jane, my aunt and I offered our congratulations.

  “Yes, we naturally hope for a boy. He will be heir to Mr Hurst’s estate,” she said with a toss of her head. As Mr Hurst seemed to prefer living off Mr Bingley, I could not imagine his estate was anything to boast about. Then again, I had often heard it said that the wealthiest people stayed wealthy by spending other people’s money rather than their own.

  “And my brother,” she continued. Something brushed against me, and I realised Jane had moved closer to me. A slight smile played around Miss Bingley’s lips. One I did not altogether like. “Well, we hope my brother will have news of his own by the end of the summer,” she said. “His time has almost been taken up with Miss Kemp. She will turn nineteen by the end of the summer, and we are confident they will make an announcement then.” She looked directly at Jane. “Do you congratulate me, my dear friend, on the fulfilment of a hope that is our dearest wish? What a match they will make. So perfect for one another in every way. I have always heard it said that Miss Isabelle Kemp is quite the most beautiful girl anyone has ever seen. My brother certainly thinks so.”

  This was almost too much. I felt Jane’s hand tremble against mine, and it was all I could do to bite my tongue before I said something I would regret.

  Aunt Gardiner spared us both.

  “I am sure we are all very happy for you,” she said.

  “And certainly happy for your family,” I added. “They are the ones with the good news. And what of you, Miss Bingley? Do you have hopes that will bring you joy?”

  Miss Bingley’s lips thinned. Her face paled, and if she were anyone else, I should have felt ashamed of toying with her pain.

  “I am most careful where I bestow my attention,” she declared. “A woman in my position must not throw herself away. It is hard to understand if you are not in such a situation. And how is Mr Wickham? I understood he was a great favourite with you. But I heard he is engaged to a young lady called Mary King?” She tilted her head to one side and affected a look of concern as if the thought of my heartbreak was devastating to her.

  I smiled. “I am sure Mr Wickham is well. I have not seen him for some time, you know. I have been in Kent. I was much engaged there with my friend, Charlotte. And with Mr Darcy who was visiting with his aunt.”

  My aunt shot me a warning look. I knew I made a mistake in mentioning Mr Darcy. It would do any potential rumours no good if I went about bragging about our acquaintance. But I coul
d not help it. To see this woman smirking at Jane, not caring how she wounded the sweetest girl in all the world, provoked me almost beyond my endurance. More than anything, I wished to see that smirk disappear.

  I received my wish, although whether I would pay a high price for it was yet to be seen. Miss Bingley’s smile stiffened as though it would shatter.

  “You saw Mr Darcy in Kent?”

  “Many — I mean several times,” I said. “Society there is small, so we were naturally thrown into one another’s company quite a lot. Well, I think we must be keeping you from your business. I am sure you have lots to do. It was a delight to see you again, Miss Bingley.”

  I dropped a curtsey which she just about deigned to return, and hurried away, my aunt and Jane rushing to catch up with me.

  “Was that altogether wise, Lizzy?” my aunt whispered when she was sure Jane could not hear. “You do not want Miss Bingley hearing something of the rumours and confirming you were in Kent together.”

  ”Miss Bingley is the last person in the world who would do such a thing,” I murmured. “She has her heart set on becoming Mrs Darcy, and she is more than welcome to him. She would do nothing that would make it likely for Mr Darcy and me to come together.”

  “I hope you are right. But it would not do to offend her. Think of Jane if nothing else.”

  “What do you think of Miss Bingley, Jane?” I asked. “Was it not astonishing to see her after so long?”

  Jane turned haunted eyes towards me, but she forced herself to smile.

  “Very astonishing. I did not expect it.” She opened her mouth to say more but turned away as if too distressed to speak. I watched her helplessly, desperate to find some way to ease her pain.

  Jane rallied enough to be in good spirits for attending the Portlands that night. “You must not worry about me,” she scolded gently as I hovered about her, trying to cheer her by offering her whichever of my gowns she might prefer. “I am not so feeble that just the mention of a gentleman’s name is enough to send me into despair. I have always known Mr Bingley would marry another. If anything, I am relieved by the confirmation. I confess, a small part of me still imagined we would somehow come together. It prevented me from moving forward. Now, I can wish him well and carry on with my life in peace.” She gave me a brave smile that did not fool me for a moment.

 

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