I sank into a plush chair, and Jane sat beside our aunt on the sofa. “Your home is as lovely as ever, Aunt.”
She chuckled, pouring the tea. “Flattery will get you everywhere. Now, I want to hear all about things at Longbourn.”
Jane took a sip of her tea, her face glowing from the warmth of the room. “Oh, Aunt, where to begin?”
“Start with the ball at Netherfield. The last full letter I had from either of you was two days before that, and there was much talk of a gentleman named Mr. Bingley. I understand he is most attentive?” She gave Jane a suggestive smile.
Jane hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the rim of her teacup. Her usually soft eyes clouded with a touch of sadness. “Mr. Bingley... He left Netherfield the day after the ball.”
Mrs. Gardiner’s eyebrows shot up. “Left? Whatever for?”
I jumped in before Jane could spiral further into her gloom. “Oh, probably just to secure a London house suitable for entertaining his favorite Bennet sister. Isn’t that right, Jane?” I said, forcing a playful nudge into my sister’s side.
Jane offered a weak smile, clearly not sharing my optimism. “Lizzy, you jest. There’s no reason to believe he’d come to town for me—quite the opposite, I fear. I do not know whether he intends to return to Netherfield at all this winter.”
Aunt Gardiner thinned her lips. “Well, think no more of it, Jane. Surely, it had nothing to do with slighting you. Many gentlemen flock to London for the parties and revelries of the Season. And did you not say he still owned some of his father’s mills? It is entirely possible he had other business.”
“But,” I pressed, “it’s equally likely he’s here to secure an invitation for Jane to the most fashionable events. After all, every eligible bachelor needs an equally enchanting partner, and who better than Jane?”
Our aunt chuckled. “Indeed, Lizzy, your sister’s beauty is the talk of Hertfordshire. But perhaps we should leave word at Mr. Bingley’s residence, just to be certain he’s aware of Jane’s presence in town?”
I nodded, grateful for my aunt’s pragmatism. “Precisely my thoughts, Aunt. If Mr. Bingley is unaware of Jane’s presence in London, then it is our duty, nay, our moral obligation to enlighten him.”
Jane blushed. “Really, Lizzy, you make it sound like a grand conspiracy.”
I leaned in, my voice dropping to a mock-conspiratorial whisper. “That’s because it is, dearest Jane. Operation ‘Yuletide Yearnings’ is underway.”
Aunt Gardiner laughed heartily, clapping her hands in delight. “Oh, Lizzy, you are indeed a breath of fresh air! But remember, while schemes and plans can be fun, it’s always the genuine heart that wins in the end.”
I winked, raising my teacup in a mock toast. “To genuine hearts, and, lest we forget, the devious minds that guide them.”
2 December
Wewereonaquest today. Our mission: to secure one new gown apiece that would make us the talk of the Twelfth Night Ball we were expected to attend. And it was not coins jingling in my reticule today, but a clutch of bank notes, courtesy of my father. I’d nearly fainted when he pressed them into my hand yesterday morning, before we stepped into the coach from Meryton.
“I shall be sorry to miss seeing you in your finery, my dear,” he had said. “But pray, do not write to me about the details of lace and ribbons and such. Save that for your mother, who, no doubt, has already written to Mrs. Gardiner what she is to order.”
What might I do with such a gift? I knew one thing—I was going to see about a gown of silk, like Miss Bingley always wore. How much didthosecost? With five daughters to attire, such gowns had always been beyond our family’s reach, and I doubted not that my father had dipped into what savings he had just to offer this. I meant to make it count for something.
As Charlotte and Jane leaned forward to absorb the sights, I caught glimpses of merchants passionately haggling, children darting between carts, and women fervently bargaining for the best market deals. Charlotte turned to my aunt with wide eyes. “Are you certain about this place, Mrs. Gardiner? It seems rather... bustling for a modiste’s shop.”
Aunt Gardiner just offered a sly smile and adjusted her bonnet. “My dear, London is all about knowing where to look. Beneath its frenetic surface lie hidden gems, and Madame Duval is one such treasure.”
“Who is she?” I asked. “French?”
“Yes. She came here with her husband about five years ago, and she brought her rather impressive skills with her. As a very young bride, she used to sew for the French court! However, she struggled to find favor with the elite of London, due to some unfortunate gossip that followed her. She is not the only modiste to arrive from Paris, you see.”
“Afraid of a little competition?” I asked.
“You have judged it rightly, Lizzy. But Madame Duval has more customers from the first circles than anyone knows. She tends to attract those ladies who wish toappearwealthier than they truly are. And her talent has never yet disappointed.”
Charlotte grinned. “Well, with such a commendation, perhaps she can pass us off as duchesses. Especially Jane.”
Mrs. Gardiner winked. “I wouldn’t put it past her. Now, about your gowns, you’ll find Madame Duval’s prices to be more than reasonable. I would think that you could secure something far above what you are used to with the money your families sent.”
Jane held up her reticule. “I must admit, I was quite surprised when Papa gave me this. I had not expected such a sum.”
Charlotte nodded in agreement. “Indeed. I have not had a new gown in two years because of the expense. Mama would not spend the money on a gown for me when she could be saving it for Maria. I am still in shock.”
