“Perhaps you will think me officious in my interference,” he said, “but I have entreated Bingley to come to Netherfield.” Elizabeth’s heart leapt. “I hope he will arrive soon. I wanted to entice him here earlier, but business kept him in the North.”
“Dare I think…?”
One side of William’s mouth quirked into a smile. “I have every reason to believe he was no more successful at forgetting Jane than I was at forgetting you.”
“Oh!” Elizabeth leapt down from the wall, too full of energy to stay seated. “If he and Jane—then she need not accept Mr. Shaw! That would be marvelous!”
“She has not already accepted Shaw, has she?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “He has not visited, but I expect him soon.”
“Could you induce her not to accept his proposal or at least delay…without telling her the reason? I can hardly promise that Bingley will propose. Who knows how they will feel when seeing each other after two years? But I would like him to have the opportunity.”
Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip. “I will find a way.”
He grinned. “I have faith in you.”
She rested her weight against the wall. “But, William, none of this will induce my cousin to leave Longbourn.”
He frowned into the gathering dusk for a long moment. “He must be convinced that Aunt Catherine needs him. Perhaps some sort of crisis…”
“We could hardly provoke a crisis in her life!” Elizabeth said.
He was silent for so long that Elizabeth worried what he might be contemplating. Had this situation driven him to desperation? “William?”
“Certainly I would not create a crisis for its own sake,” he said slowly. “But we might take advantage of a crisis that presents itself.”
“What do you know?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I cannot say more at the moment; it would require betraying confidences.”
“Of course.”
William jumped down from the wall as well and took her hand. “Georgiana is now at Darcy House in London. I will invite her to Netherfield. Bingley and other guests will be arriving; they will be more comfortable with a hostess in residence.”
Elizabeth restrained the impulse to ask the identity of these “other guests”; it was hardly her business. “It would be lovely to see Georgiana again.”
“Then it is decided. There is only one difficulty remaining.”
Elizabeth frowned at him. “What is that?”
He leaned toward her and whispered, “How will I induce you to accept my proposal?”
The answer was so unexpected, Elizabeth had to laugh. “I hope you are not unaware of your progress on that front.”
Their faces were mere inches from each other. He gave a mock frown. “Hmm. I believe you require additional persuasion.”
“What methods would you use?” she asked in a hushed voice.
He smiled enigmatically. “I have various methods at my disposal. Would you like a demonstration?”
“Yes.”
His lips met hers, and no more words were exchanged for a long time.
***
Two days later, Darcy stood before the door to Netherfield as a well-sprung carriage rolled into view. As soon as the vehicle stopped, the door opened, and Bingley practically bounced out before lowering the steps to help the others emerge.
“I am glad you are finally here,” Darcy exclaimed. “I expected you earlier.”
“We had a broken wheel not ten miles from Meryton,” Bingley said tersely as he gave Darcy a brisk handshake. “Is she at Longbourn, do you know?”
Darcy could only grin. No need to ask who “she” was. “As far as I know. If you are so consumed with eagerness, you may borrow my horse from the stable.”
“Very good!” Bingley set off for the stable with a ground-eating stride.
Darcy was free to focus his attention on the other occupants of the carriage. “Georgiana!” He embraced his sister and kissed her cheek. With soft blonde curls clustered around her face, Georgiana seemed fresh and relaxed, not at all travel-worn. She had been far happier since their conversation at Pemberley but had needed several reassurances that her plan to remain unmarried did not agitate her brother.
“Has Mr. Bingley already departed for Longbourn?” she asked him with a twinkle in her eye.
“Indeed. I predict they will be engaged before the week is out,” Darcy said.
“He spoke of nothing save Miss Bennet for the whole length of the journey,” remarked the woman by his sister’s side. “I never met the woman, but I know her favorite color, which poets she prefers, and that she does not care for mutton.” Georgiana giggled and nodded in agreement.
“Anne, welcome to Netherfield.” Darcy greeted his cousin with a kiss on the cheek. She had gained some weight since he had last seen her, but her skin still had an unhealthy tinge of gray. She requires fresh air and exercise; I must take her for walks. “I trust you are in good health?”
She gave a quiet chuckle. “I am certainly pleased to be away from London. But this is all a little mysterious. Your sister practically kidnapped me!”
Georgiana’s laugh echoed off the front of the house. “Do not tell falsehoods, Anne! My offer was a little precipitous, I admit—”
“A little!” Anne exclaimed. “I had but an hour to pack my trunk!”
“But you were quite free to decline,” Georgiana continued primly.
“As if I would miss an opportunity to escape the city—and Mother! I would have eagerly agreed to tour the northern coal mines.”
They all laughed, although Darcy was not sure his cousin was joking.
“Aunt Catherine did not object to such an impromptu trip?” he asked.
“She only cared that I would see you,” Anne said tartly. “She believes if we spend more time together, undying affection might spontaneously develop. No doubt she is purchasing my trousseau as we speak.” His cousin’s bitter tone saddened Darcy, but it was not unearned. “Naturally, she was most displeased not to be included in the invitation, but she has a ball, a dinner, and a card party this week. Otherwise I fear she might arrive uninvited.”
Darcy said a quick prayer of thanks. This week would be complicated enough without Aunt Catherine’s intrusive presence.
Anne raised an eyebrow at her cousin. “Now, will you tell me why you needed me in Hertfordshire so desperately? Georgiana was quite secretive about it.”
“Georgiana does not know the whole of it herself,” Darcy replied. “But I will let you fully into my confidence. I do believe you will be pleased by the outcome. Why do you not join me for some tea?” He extended both his arms so that each woman could take one as he escorted them into the house. “As you will recall, we spoke at great length during my last visit to Rosings Park…”
***
Elizabeth had managed to cajole Jane into wearing one of her best day gowns…without arousing too much suspicion. She had also arranged events so that the two sisters might have a rare afternoon of leisure in Longbourn’s garden.
Mr. Shaw had proposed to Jane—apparently in an unexceptionable, workmanlike way. However, Elizabeth had counseled her sister beforehand not to give an immediate response, so Jane had told the admiral she needed time to consider his offer. More than a day had passed since his proposal, and Jane constantly fretted that Mr. Shaw might withdraw his offer if she appeared too hesitant. Elizabeth was beginning to run short of reasons Jane should not send the man an acceptance letter.
Mr. Bingley was due; she had expected him an hour ago. Every moment that passed without his arrival provoked greater anxiety in Elizabeth. What if he had taken ill?
If he did not appear soon, Elizabeth would admit to Jane that Mr. Bingley was expected. She knew the information would throw her sister into great agitation. But she feared that knowledge of his arrival might not prevent her from accepting Mr. Shaw’s offer. The mere fact of Mr. Bingley’s arrival did not mean that he was prepared to make Jane an offer. For th
e twentieth time that hour, Elizabeth’s eyes drifted hopefully to the road, but there were no signs of movement.
Jane put down her embroidery. “Lizzy, I know you are opposed to the match, but I believe I ought to accept Mr. Shaw’s offer.”
Elizabeth could not quite stifle a groan. “You cannot convince me that you love the man.”
“No,” Jane said after a slight hesitation. “But I respect him. I think that will be sufficient.”
Elizabeth was not sure how much respect Mr. Shaw was entitled to, but Jane was always more forgiving.
“My dear, he only desires a wife to be an unpaid nanny to his brood of children.”
“I know.”
Elizabeth gaped. “If you know this, how can you contemplate—?”
“I have seen his children at church. They are in desperate need of a mother. I can care for them.”
“But what about your happiness?”
“Caring for motherless children will give my life purpose. I am sure I will be…quite content.”
Elizabeth slipped off the bench and knelt in front of her sister. “I pray you, do not sacrifice your chance for love!”
Jane hunched her shoulders forward. “Perhaps I am not destined for love.”
Elizabeth could not imagine anyone who was more deserving of love than her older sister. “My dear, I beg you to take more time to consider.”
For the first time Jane betrayed a hint of impatience. “Lizzy, the poor man has been awaiting my answer for nearly two days. He will believe I have decided against him! That is hardly an auspicious beginning to married life!”
Mr. Bingley is coming. The words were on the tip of Elizabeth’s tongue, but she dared not voice them. What if he never arrived? What if he changed his mind? What if he came but never made her an offer? She dared not raise Jane’s hopes.
“At least wait until tomorrow morning.”
Jane sighed. “It will not make a difference. Mr. Collins will be extremely displeased if I refuse Mr. Shaw. This is the best thing for the family—the only sensible choice.”
“Jane—” Elizabeth stopped, unable to muster another argument.
In the silence the beat of hooves sounded from the road—a horse running full out.
Jane peeked over her shoulder, but there was nobody within sight yet. “Do you think it could be a messenger?”
The idea had occurred to Elizabeth as well. Only express messengers rode so quickly—and they usually brought bad news. Elizabeth instantly worried about Lydia; had the baby been born too early? As one, the sisters stood and hurried toward a little hillock that overlooked the road into Longbourn.
There was indeed a horse and rider racing toward Longbourn. “That is not an express messenger,” Elizabeth stated.
The man’s face was obscured by overhanging branches, but his clothing was much too fine for a messenger. The rider was a gentleman. Elizabeth held her breath.
Jane squinted into the sunshine. “It almost seems…but no…”
Perhaps something about his clothing or stance reminded Jane of Mr. Bingley. She gasped and covered her mouth.
“Jane?”
Her sister had grown so pale Elizabeth worried she was in danger of swooning. “No,” Jane said, turning away from the sight. “No, no, no.” She hastily retreated to the garden bench.
“Jane?” Elizabeth hurried to follow. “What is amiss?”
Seated on the bench, Jane stared fixedly at a boxwood on the other side of the path. “No,” she said firmly. “I will not indulge in fantasies.”
The rider was near enough that his identity was unmistakable. She could not prevent a silly grin from spreading over her face. She reached down to touch her sister’s shoulder. “Jane, it is Mr. Bingley!”
Hearing his name, the man in question reined in his horse. He met Elizabeth’s eyes with a hopeful expression; in response, she tilted her head to suggest he join them in the garden.
While he dismounted, Elizabeth returned her attention to her sister, who was engaged in some of the most frantic embroidering imaginable. Before Elizabeth spoke, Jane muttered, “He can have no business here with me, Lizzy. Perhaps he must meet Mr. Collins, or he is simply paying his respects to Mama.”
“I do not believe anyone has ever been in such great haste to pay their respects to Mama,” Elizabeth said.
Jane’s needle moved at an alarming rate. After a moment she whispered, “I cannot afford hope, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth swallowed past a lump in her throat. “He has come to see you; I know that much.”
Jane jerked up her head in shock, but before she could respond, they both heard the crunching of boots on the garden’s gravel pathway.
“Perhaps he simply intends to admire the flowers.” Jane hastily lowered her head to her embroidery once more.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “They have flowers at Netherfield, Jane. For that matter, they have flowers in London.”
But her sister refused to look in Mr. Bingley’s direction, so Elizabeth watched his approach intently. “Jane, he is smiling.”
“Perhaps he is pleased to see you.” But Jane did lower her embroidery and lift her head.
“I do not believe he knows I am here. He is watching you.”
At these words, Jane finally turned her head and regarded Mr. Bingley. He had nearly reached the bench, flushed and out of breath but still grinning.
Jane’s somber expression wilted his smile, and his brows drew together. “Tell me I am not too late!” he cried. “Have you accepted this other man?”
Jane did not appear to be capable of speech, so Elizabeth responded, “You are not too late.”
“Thank God!” Mr. Bingley threw himself on the gravel at Jane’s feet, heedless of his fine wool trousers.
“Mr. Bingley!” she exclaimed.
“Miss Bennet.” He took one of her hands in his. “I was a fool to ever leave you. I will be your faithful and devoted servant all the rest of my life if you will consent to be my wife.”
Jane stared at him, utterly speechless, for such a long moment that Elizabeth considered whether her sister was overwrought.
“Please say yes,” he murmured.
“You really want to marry me, Mr. Bingley?” she whispered in a voice so soft it was barely audible.
“Charles,” he corrected.
“Do you want to marry me, Charles?” she asked, a rather dazed expression on her face.
“Yes! A thousand times yes! Leaving you was the greatest mistake of my life. I know that nobody but you will make me happy. Please relieve my anxiety and say you will be mine.”
Tears spilled out of Jane’s eyes at an alarming rate. “I would be honored to be your wife.”
Mr. Bingley pulled his new fiancée into a passionate embrace. Feeling her presence was entirely superfluous, Elizabeth slipped quietly away.
Chapter Nineteen
That evening Mr. Darcy joined the inhabitants of Longbourn for an impromptu celebratory dinner. “Forgetting” yet again that she was no longer mistress of the house, Mrs. Bennet had ordered a fine feast in Mr. Bingley’s honor, but Charlotte had no objection. Mr. Bingley had applied to Collins for permission to marry Jane, and it had been swiftly granted.
Yet as Collins presided over the meal, he seemed uneasy. Elizabeth thought he would be pleased to have one less mouth to feed. Did he care that Jane was not marrying Mr. Shaw? Did he object to Mr. Bingley? Ultimately, Elizabeth shrugged and determined that it did not matter. Collins would be unhappy, and she wished him joy in it.
The rest of the family was quite jovial enough. Kitty led many toasts to the happy couple, and Mrs. Bennet grew a little intoxicated, requiring Hill’s help back to her bedchamber. At the end of the evening, she became quite maudlin, saying, “If I could only see the rest of you girls as well settled, I would be quite pleased!”
As the gentlemen prepared to depart, Kitty arranged with William to meet Georgiana at Netherfield the next day. Standing beside William, Elizabeth noticed Collins�
�s eyes on her more than once. Had he learned something about her activities at Netherfield? Resolutely, she banished it from her thoughts; her cousin was unlikely to speak of it before guests.
Jane and Elizabeth escorted the men outside to bid them farewell. As she retreated from the drawing room, Collins’s eyes followed Elizabeth, compounding her sense of disquiet.
It was a cool spring evening. The light had not completely faded from the sky, and the moon was beginning to rise in the midst of a twilight glow. Jane and her betrothed lingered near the front door, whispering to each other about matters concerning Bingley’s family.
Allowing them some privacy, William and Elizabeth walked down the road several yards and stood under the branches of a weeping willow.
“It appears my cautions about Bingley’s intentions were for naught,” William mused. “I had written that I believed your sister might be amenable to resuming the courtship, and then I told him about Shaw. I expected it to spur him into action, but I did not expect him to move quite so precipitously.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I do not believe there has ever been a man so eager to propose in all the history of England! He takes Jane’s hand at every opportunity, apparently fearing she might disappear if he releases her. And Mama…who would have guessed she could run so fast? But with such exciting news to tell her friends in Meryton, anything is possible.”
She looked him in the eye, wanting him to see the sincerity in her gaze. “Thank you for sending for Mr. Bingley.”
“It was my pleasure. I only wish he could have come sooner.” In the following silence, William took her hand and gently caressed the back with his thumb. “It was wonderful to see everyone in such high spirits.”
“Mr. Collins will not be pleased to lose Jane’s work at Longbourn. She labors far harder than Kitty or Mary.”
William’s expression darkened. “He must grow accustomed to it. You and your sisters will not be under his thumb forever. Someday he must hire proper servants.” Elizabeth wished she could be certain of this prediction; at times she felt she would be trapped forever.
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