Jane’s cheeks pinked. “I had thought I must give up all hope of Mr. Bingley, but does it not seem that he has found his way into our company often of late? Even sought us out?”
“Soughtyouout,“ I inserted.
“I think his admiration of your is as plain as it was in Hertfordshire,” Charlotte added.
Jane’s blush deepened, and she hid her smile behind her teacup. “I hope so. I wonder when he will declare himself, though. So far, he has said nothing of deepening our attachment.”
“Perhaps he is only waiting for the right time,” I suggested. “Sometime when his sister is not within a five-mile radius.”
Jane and Charlotte snickered, but Aunt Gardiner fixed a steady eye on me. “And what of you, Lizzy?”
“Me?”
“Of course. What do you think of Mr. Van der Meer?”
“Oh, I do not think I would suit him,” I sighed. “Nor the reverse. He is quite too good for me, Aunt.”
“What, would you have a wicked man?”
“No! Oh, that is not what I meant at all. No, I should like it if a man had more than just theappearanceof goodness. One that is possessed of it through and through... but one who also has the capacity to challenge and provoke me a little. One who could make me think of him when he was not near, and one who could make me angry enough that I would have no choice but to forgive him most ardently after a disagreement. I fear the most poor Mr. Van der Meer could inspire in me is a slight sense of distraction. I should vastly prefer a man who could own all my senses, for good or ill.”
My aunt shook her head, her eyebrows arched in dismay. “I hope to heaven you either find what you seek, or give it up as folly, Elizabeth. I cannot think of any man capable of diverting your nimble mind as fully as you desire. And arguments with your spouse are hardly something to aspire to.”
“Oh, I do not mean that I wish to argue all the time. I only want a mind worthy of engaging.”
Aunt rolled her eyes. “You frighten me, Lizzy.”
“Frighten you? Whatever for? If I married a man and never had a single disagreement with him, could it honestly be said that we ever spoke of anything important? Truly, Aunt, it is not in my nature. I would prefer a man who had at least a little stubbornness of his own to match mine.”
Aunt Gardiner clicked her tongue. “If you say so, Lizzy. Well, Miss Lucas, what do you think of Mr. Van der Meer? Is he not everything an amiable man ought to be?”
Charlotte looked up swiftly, her mouth working. “Oh, I... I do not feel my opinion is worth much.”
“But of course it is,” Aunt Gardiner protested. “You have been in company with him often enough. Is Lizzy not foolish to dismiss such a worthy man without a care?”
Charlotte raised a cautious look to me, then stared back at her cup. “He is, indeed, a worthy man. But Lizzy knows her own mind. I daresay if she believes they would not suit, it would be an injustice to the gentleman to attempt to make a match of it.”
“Well said, Charlotte,” I agreed. “He deserves someone far kinder than I.”
She thinned her lips in an approximation of a smile, and instantly, my heart squeezed. Poor Charlotte! No one had askedherif any man struck her fancy. The reason was too painful—no one wanted to remind her of her limited time on this earth, or all the things she would never be able to experience. But how much worse to be overlooked altogether? What could I say that would not give her pain of some kind?
“Charlotte,” I asked gently, “What say you about the gentleman? Perhaps I have been ungenerous in my appraisal. He is kind, is he not?”
Charlotte hesitated, her gaze flitting nervously between us. She clenched her hands in her lap; her knuckles white with the effort it took to maintain her composure. “Very kind. Almost as if he... Oh, never mind. You will think it silly.”
“I will think no such thing,” I swore. Jane and Aunt Gardiner murmured their agreement. “What were you about to say?”
“Nothing much,” she whispered at last, her voice barely audible above the crackling fire. “I... I wish it were not impossible, that is all. You know me, Lizzy—I am too practical for romance. I would rather not know too much of the fate that awaits me, and I do not permit myself to dream of things that shall never be. But itwouldbe a fine thing, would it not, to spend what time I have left with someone who understands me and accepts me for who I am, despite my many limitations?”
“Charlotte,” Jane murmured, her lovely eyes brimming with unshed tears, “you deserve nothing less.”
11
18 December
Thechandeliersinmyaunt’s parlor blazed with a hundred candles, offering a soft, inviting light that contrasted sharply with the splintering cold of the December night. The windowpanes only provided brief glimpses of an inky darkness beyond. I entwined my fingers with Charlotte’s as we descended the stairs to join my aunt and uncle at their small gathering of friends.
“Courage, my friend,” I whispered. Though I strove to seem calm, my heart pounded with anticipation. This night, I vowed, my dear Charlotte would get her mistletoe moment while she still had the strength to enjoy it. And Jane... Well, Jane would have to wait, because this party was only for my uncle’s business partners, and after watching Jane with Mr. Bingley, I had decided no other would do for her.
