She thinned her lips and sighed. “Well, I suppose it’s not up to us to decide that, is it? Now, why did you rush over here so early the morning after a ball? Don’t tell me Mr. Darcy presented himself on your doorstep this morning with an offer of marriage.”
I sniffed and blubbered a laugh, then wiped my nose. “Mr. Collins, actually.”
“And what did you say?”
I scoffed. “Well… I refused him! What else could I do?”
Charlotte shrugged. “I suppose that is a matter of opinion.”
“And I made mine known.” I laced my hand in hers. “What can I do foryou, Charlotte? Shall I bring a book up and read to you?”
She smiled and shook her head on the pillow. “I will be well enough later, Lizzy. These bad spells come and go. I just need a little rest, and I will be downstairs by the time Mama begins to look for me. Go on—I am sure your mother is searching for you, too.”
I huffed and shook my head. “That is precisely why I came here. Are you sure you will be well?”
Charlotte tightened her grip on my hand. “Well enough.”
The moment I enteredLongbourn, Mama’s familiar wails echoed from the drawing room, louder and more harrowing than any I’d heard before. She was inside Papa’s study with the door open, but I managed to slip past without either of them seeing me. What had become of Mr. Collins? I knew not, nor did I mean to stop and ask. It all felt distant, secondary to the fears turning in my stomach after my visit with Charlotte.
“Lizzy!” Lydia’s voice called out as I passed the drawing room, but I had no patience for her now. I clutched my skirts and ran up the stairs to Jane’s door, and pushed it open without pause. “Jane, I’ve just come from Charlotte. You’ll never believe what I…”
I stopped. Jane sat on her bed, a letter in hand, her face a study of distress. And when she looked up at me, she was blinking away tears.
“Jane?” Could this day take more frustrations or grief? I glanced at the letter, then examined her face. “What is it?”
“Lizzy,” she choked. “It’s from Miss Bingley. They…” She stopped, closed her eyes, and blew out a slow, shaky breath. “Oh, I am sure it is nothing, truly, but she says that by the time I receive this letter, they will already be on their way to London. Mr. Bingley departed at first light, but the rest of them have decided to follow.”
“What?” I took it from her and scanned Miss Bingley’s fine script. “For how long?”
Jane sniffed. “She does not say. Only that she is most eager to see Mr. Darcy’s sister in London, and that she was pleased to make my acquaintance while they remained in the neighborhood. That does not sound like a farewell to you, does it?”
My lip curled as I read. “It sounds to me like Miss Bingley did not like her brother’s fondness for you, and she meant to whisk him away.”
“Oh, Lizzy, you do not know that. I am sure he only left on business, but it does seem odd that the rest of the party went after him. London must be so much more diverting at this time of year, but he will come back.”
I handed the letter to her. “Yes, with a bride, no doubt. I understand Miss Darcy is a perfect peacock.”
Jane’s eyes widened. “How did you hear that?”
“Mr. Wickham.”
She shook her head and folded her letter, then opened it again to re-read Miss Bingley’s words. “No, I am sure you are wrong. The way I read this, she says only that she and Mr. Darcy are eager to see Miss Darcy again. She says nothing about…” She sagged, and her breath left her. “Oh, dear. Lizzy, can it be true?”
“You can count on it. And I think she is doing her brother a tremendous disservice, taking him from a lady he loves and forcing another upon him.”
“Oh, Lizzy. Mr. Bingley was never… well, he was friendly. Kind.” She looked up to the ceiling, her shoulders slumping and the letter falling to her lap. “I did fancy one or two times there that he might kiss me—you know, when he would escort me for a walk or when Mama would leave us alone in the drawing room. Is that not silly? He never did, of course. He is too much the gentleman for that.”
“He is still a man, and a man in violent love, if I ever saw it. Would you truly let Miss Bingley take that away from you?”
“But what am I to do about it?” She tossed her hands, then swiped at a tear. “He is gone, and I cannot know when he will come back.”
I frowned and sank onto the bed beside her. “It is not fair, you know. I mean, not fair to him. To have to leave behind a lady he clearly loves, and be forced to make himself amiable to a snobbish bore of a girl just to please his sister and Mr. Darcy.”
Jane bit her lip and looked at me, her brow crumpled with hurt. “What do you mean?”
I just lifted my shoulders. “Only that Mr. Bingley seemed quite happy as he was. What a shame to have his hopes stolen, because they did not please someone else.”
She dashed another tear from her face. “Oh, Lizzy, to hear you talk, one would think you want me to chase after him. Go to London and seek him out!”
“I suppose that it is very much what I am saying.”
Jane shook her head. “No. It seems likely that I was simply misled. If he cares for me, he will come back. I am sure of it.”
I thinned my lips and sighed. “Let us hope. Does Mama know about this yet?”
“Oh.” Jane clapped a hand over her face. “Did you not hear all the crying downstairs?”
“Yes, but I thought I occasioned that by refusing Mr. Collins. Poor Mama! She truly is having a day of it.”
“Indeed.”
