“Mr. Bennet, you have a very strange notion of the word ‘comfort,’” Mama protested. “What care I for this gentleman’s investments?”
“You may care very much when you hear that he is a single man of large fortune,” Papa replied. “Son of a shipbuilder with a vast fortune to his name, and no wife to encumber him.”
Mama blinked—stunned into silence. Jane and I shared a long look—I believe we both knew precisely what Papa would say next.
Papa folded the letter and laid it on the table. “Indeed, Mrs. Bennet, you may have guessed the rest. Jane and Lizzy have been invited to Cheapside for the Season. Now, what say you to that? I knew it would be a hardship to celebrate Twelfth Night without your dear girls, so I intend to write a very pretty declination after my breakfast settles.”
“No, no!” Mama cried. “Mr. Bennet, have you gone mad? They may very well go, and tomorrow, if I have any say in the matter. Why, Mr. Bingley is in London, as well! Gentlemen enough for both of them. Oh, my dears!” Mama hopped up from the table, her tea and egg forgotten. “Come upstairs quickly, and we will have a look at your gowns!”
Iblewoutabreath as I stepped up to the door at Lucas Lodge. Poor Charlotte! I felt a villain and a rogue for even coming to tell her my news, but it would be far worse if I left for London without seeing her. I could imagine it already—she would be wasting away in her bed, worse than yesterday, with her lips blue and her face sallow, and she would wish nothing for me but happiness and good fortune. I almost turned around.
But before my foot could stray from the step, the door opened, and Charlotte herself greeted me—eyes bright, complexion radiant. “Lizzy! What brings you here today?”
“Ah…” I stammered. “Charlotte! You look…”
She put a finger to her lips, her eyes wide in warning as she looked over her shoulder. “Mama is just in the kitchen there,” she hissed.
“Oh. Right.” I nodded and dropped my voice to a whisper. “I thought yesterday you were at death’s door! How is it you look so well today?”
She took my hand and dragged me to the sitting room, then closed the door. “I told you. I don’t feel that poorly all the time. It was only the exhaustion from the ball.”
“Truly!” I sighed in relief. “Well, then, surely your fears are all for naught. It must just be a passing malaise.”
Charlotte shook her head sadly. “I wish it were, Lizzy, but it has been some months like this. Even now, I do not feel at all well. I am simply able to disguise it. When was the last time I accepted your invitation to walk to Meryton?”
“Some while,” I confessed. “You always said your mother wanted you for something at home.”
“Mostly lies, Lizzy. I am sorry to have deceived you, but there it is.”
I sagged. “Oh, Charlotte! How… ah… how long? Did Mr. Jones say?”
She shook her head. “He can tell me almost nothing, but it takes less and less to make me breathless. And only this morning, I experienced another episode of heart flutterings and head spasms that nearly knocked me flat.” She sighed. “A bit of cabbage put me right.”
“Cabbage!” I shuddered. “You ought to be eating something soothing and gentle on your stomach. Charlotte, you truly must say something to your mother. What if you take a turn for the worse and she does not know to expect it?”
Her face crumbled. “Yes. Mama. I know, Lizzy, but I was not prepared to be treated like an invalid yet. I would not have been permitted to dance at the ball or walk with you in the garden last week. I would like to enjoy what time I have left.”
I frowned. “Would that I could be here for you.”
“What does that mean?”
I took her hand and led her to the sofa. “Jane and I are being sent to London for Christmas. I say ‘sent,’ because Mama will not give us a choice in the matter, though I confess, Iamlooking forward to it.”
“Oh, Lizzy! What a fine thing for you!”
“It is,” I admitted. “We are to stay with my aunt and uncle. Apparently, they have been invited to many parties that they would not normally attend, but my uncle has a new friend, and…”
“He’s single?”
I laughed. “Excellent guess.”
Charlotte clapped a hand over mine. “Do not feel guilty on my account, Lizzy. Why, this is the perfect opportunity for you! I dearly hope it will be a perfect diversion for Jane to forget her heartache over Mr. Bingley.”
“So do I. Well… what do you mean to do?”
“Me? Oh, nothing very much. Mama intends to roast a leg of lamb, and John was thinking of courting Elle Goulding after Christmas.”
“Why not before?”
