Miss Bennet & Mr Bingley (26 page)

‘Poor Kitty! She will be inconsolable, it is a great shame that Mrs
Forster could not invite both of them to accompany her to Brighton.’

‘It is a great shame, Jane, that either of them are allowed to go. Can
you imagine how Lydia will behave when she is away from Longbourn? I shall
speak to Papa, implore him to stop her from going. Can you imagine the great
disadvantage for us all, which must arise from the public notice of Lydia’s
unguarded and imprudent manner; nay, which has already risen from it?’

‘You are no doubt considering Mr Darcy’s feelings when you say that, are
you not?
Do you regret it, Lizzy, refusing him?’

‘No. But all the same I do not wish
our sister to disgrace us any further.’

Jane watched her sister leave to speak to their father and although she
would not like to see Lydia disappointed, she was certain a visit to Brighton
by someone of Lydia’s disposition was not a sound idea. Unfortunately, their
father did not see it that way.

‘Papa refuses to become involved,’ said Lizzy with a sigh. ‘He says that
Lydia, Kitty and Mary are all very silly and that we shall have no peace at
Longbourn if Lydia is not allowed to go to Brighton. He insists that Colonel
Forster is a sensible man and will keep her out of any real mischief.’

Much relieved by her sister’s reassurance Jane was able to enjoy the
walk and felt ready to face Lydia’s overexcitement and Kitty’s excessive
complaints. At least all the noise and fuss involved with Lydia’s departure
meant she had less time to think of what
she
had lost. Time had not
lessened her grief over the departure of Bingley from her life. She had thought
on her return that things would be as they were before she had met him. The
opposite had been the case, she could not stop thinking about him. Everywhere
she went she was reminded of past happiness.

Jane rather believed that her four months in London had aggravated her
loss and not alleviated it in any way. She wished she could forget him as he
had obviously forgotten all about her, he had known she was in town and could
easily have visited her if he had so desired. There could be no other
explanation for his absence; like his sisters, he had put her to one side when
he had left Hertfordshire.

Her mother’s preoccupation with Brighton meant she no longer referred to
him and Netherfield so frequently,
and as she had not mentioned meeting
Mr Fox again, at least her mother could not plague her about that episode of
her life which was now, thankfully, closed.

‘Lizzy, shall we walk in the
shrubbery? I need to get away from all this talk about the military.’

‘It is tiresome listening to Kitty
wailing and Lydia screeching, I should much rather converse with you.’

‘We do not need to bother to go
upstairs to find our bonnets, Lizzy, the sun is almost set.’ Jane linked her
arm through her sister’s and they exited through a side door not wishing to
alert their mother of their intended escape.

‘It is strange to see Lydia so set
on her course to find a husband, do you feel the need to do so?’

‘You know that I do not, Jane. It
is a great pity that we have not an independent income, then we could set up in
our own establishment, two old maids together.’

‘One thing is for certain, I shall
not do as Charlotte has. I would rather remain single than tie myself to a man
I could not love with all my heart.’ She sighed. ‘I fear I shall never meet
another man like Mr Bingley so I am destined to be a spinster all my life.’

‘You would not marry in order to
leave Longbourn? Can you imagine spending the remainder of her days here? And
what when Papa dies? Do we ask Mr Collins to take us in?’

‘Pray, do not even consider a
situation such as that. One of us will marry for love and must promise to take
care of the other.’ Jane knew she would never be the one to wed, so she must
rely on Lizzy to find someone she could love well enough to share her life.

On the very last day of the regiment’s remaining in Meryton, Mr Wickham
and some other officers, were invited to dine at Longbourn. Jane still found it
hard to credit that this charming young man had behaved so badly; she sincerely
hoped that Elizabeth was able to contain her disgust and not reveal to the
assembled company that Wickham was no longer a favourite of theirs.

She saw them talking together earnestly and something Elizabeth said
made him appear alarmed and agitated and his complexion was heightened
somewhat. For a few minutes he remained silent, then he appeared to shake off
his embarrassment and turned back to her sister to speak to her quietly.

When they were preparing for bed that evening Jane asked her sister what
Wickham had told her. ‘We discussed Lady Catherine and I told him that I had
spent three weeks in the company of Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Darcy.’

‘Oh dear, Lizzy, I hope he did not speak of what you had been told in
confidence.’

‘Of course I did not, I merely hinted to him that I saw through him and
knew him for the charlatan he was. He is not a stupid man, he understood to
what I was referring.’

‘It will be a relief, Lizzy, when the regiment has left and we can
forget all about Mr Wickham.’

The house was quiet after Lydia’s departure. She had promised to write
frequently but letters were always long expected and always very short. Her
correspondence with Kitty was longer, but was so full of intimate revelations
that Kitty was not prepared to share them with the rest of the family.

Even Jane noticed the difference in Meryton now that the regiment had
left. Their parties abroad were less varied than before and the constant
complaints of Mrs Bennet and Kitty about how dull everything had become cast a
real gloom over their domestic circle. It was a full three weeks before health,
good humour and cheerfulness began to reappear at Longbourn.

‘It
is going to be very odd here when you are
away,’ said Jane. ‘It is a great shame that
your plans had to be
altered, but my uncle must, of course, put his business engagements first. I
know how you were looking forward to going as far as the Lakes, but I am sure
Derbyshire will be just as pleasant. I know what you are thinking, that you
might run into Mr Darcy, but Derbyshire is a large place and I am sure you will
not see him.’

‘I pray that you are correct. Jane, I do so wish you had been included
in the invitation. But I believe that our aunt is relying on your taking care
of the children for her. I am quite certain I do not have the patience that you
do.’

‘I spent many months in London with them; it is only right that you
should have your turn. I love the children and cannot wait to see them running
about at Longbourn.’

The time fixed for the beginning of her sister’s Northern tour was fast
approaching; Jane in spite of her protestations that she had no wish to
accompany them, would be perfectly happy at home, was rather dreading the
separation.

Although they never spoke of Bingley, or indeed of Mr Darcy and his
refused proposal, Jane was aware that Elizabeth knew how much she was suffering
and made every effort to keep her cheerful and take her mind off what she had
lost. It was not her intention to reveal her distress, but when one was so
close, it was impossible for the other not to know that her high spirits and
smiles were often forced.

She had taken to riding every morning and sometimes her excursions took
her past Netherfield. It was little comfort to see the handsome building empty;
she wondered what would become of it. Would he sell the lease? It was not her
concern any more what he did; she must get on with her life and learn to be
happy again.

* * * *

Four weeks passed before the arrival of their uncle and aunt and their
children. Jane was fully occupied settling her young cousins and Elsie into the
nursery. Elizabeth was to depart the following morning and she was dreading the
separation. She kept her disquiet to herself and was able to embrace her sister
lovingly and wish her a happy holiday. They promised to exchange a frequent
correspondence; Elizabeth vowed she would write as soon as they were settled
and left her with an address in Lambton to which she could send her first
missive.

She had no time to dwell on her sadness at being parted from her
favourite sister as the children demanded her full attention. Mrs Bennet had
declared she was far too old to be bothered with them, that her nerves could
not take the strain. Mary and Kitty had no interest in their young cousins and
her father was, as usual, closeted in his library.

It had been her intention to devote the morning hours to lessons but
seeing a row of expectant faces, all eager to get outside and run about, she
had not the heart to insist that they studied their books that morning.

‘I believe that I shall allow you one week without school work; and
after that you must promise to apply yourselves every morning. I have given my
word to your parents that I shall not neglect your studies in their absence.’

Within twenty minutes they were clattering down the stairs and heading
for the garden. She had no leisure to think about her own problems, or even to
miss her sister very much. She threw herself enthusiastically into the
entertainment of the children and was frequently as wet and muddy, after one of
their excursions, as they were.

When the children were safely installed in the nursery she had to bathe
and change and be ready to attend a variety of little parties and social
engagements. Her days were full and so were many of her evenings. The letter
she had promised to send to Elizabeth was started and then put by until she
could find the time to complete it.

The house was quiet, everybody asleep when Jane was awakened by a
thunderous knocking at the front door. She scrambled out of bed, fumbling with
a tinderbox in order to light a candle. She slipped into her robe and held the
candle aloft to see that the mantel clock said it was midnight.

Had no one else heard the knocking? Should she go down herself and see
who it was? No, she would go to her mother’s apartment and rouse her. Mama
could wake Papa and
he
could go down and deal with whoever was outside
the door.

Jane was halfway along the passageway when she heard a door open at the
far end and her father appeared, nightcap askew, his bed robe hastily tied.

‘Go back to your rooms, Jane. I shall deal with this. If it is anything
that requires Mrs Bennet to be told, I shall send word to you.’

‘Yes, sir. I shall wait in my sitting room.’ Jane knew that it had to be
bad news; no one would send good tidings with such urgency.

It was some time before Jane received her summons. Hill, had appeared at
her sitting-room door, her hair stuffed higgledy-piggledy under her cap and her
bombazine dress pulled on over her nightgown.

‘The master asks that you come down and join him in the library
directly, if you will, Miss Bennet.’

Jane’s heart plummeted. He must require her to speak to Mama; the news
must be dire indeed to consider waking her. The housekeeper led the way through
the darkened house and along the corridor to the library.

Her father was standing, a letter in his hand, and his expression filled
her with foreboding. ‘Jane, I am relieved that you are here. This is an express
come from Colonel Forster. Your sister has run off with Wickham. She left a
note for Mrs Forster informing her of their intention. They are on their way to
Scotland in order to get married.’

‘That is the most parlous news, sir. Poor Lydia! Whatever could have
possessed her to do something so disastrous?’

‘I have no idea; I had no inkling that Wickham was interested in Lydia.
For if I had, I certainly would not have allowed her to go to Brighton.’ He
rubbed his eyes and stared again at the letter as if he could not believe what
was written there. ‘Colonel Forster is on his way to Longbourn and it is up to
you, my dear girl, to go and break the news to Mrs Bennet. I think we shall have
to rouse Kitty and Mary. It is possible that one of them knows more about this
business than we do.’

‘I shall go up at once; I must stay with Mama, I am certain that she
will be prostrate at this news. Do you think it might not be better to leave
the girls in ignorance until morning? Mama will be suffering from her nerves,
and Kitty and Mary’s distress will not help.’

He shrugged, as if indifferent to the anxiety of his wife. ‘Do as you
think best, Jane. If you are not to get the others up then I shall retire to my
chamber. We shall all need our wits about us to face the morning.’

As Jane ran back upstairs her immediate thought was that it was
fortuitous she and Elizabeth had decided not to inform the rest of the family
about Wickham’s true character. If they knew what sort of man Lydia was to
marry it would make matters so much worse.

She paused for a few moments to compose herself, before quietly knocking
on her mother’s door.
There followed half an hour of noise and
hysterics, after which Jane felt able to leave her mother with the housekeeper
and
go down to the kitchen and
make herself a drink of hot milk. The room was once more in darkness, the tea,
for her mother’s nerves, having already been made and taken up. Placing her
candlestick on the dresser she busied herself finding milk from the slate shelf
in the pantry and a copper pan from the rack on the wall.