Eight
“You missed all thefun, Lizzy.” Lydia leaned over the table, banging her spoon accidentally on her glass. “Mr. Collins tripped on his way out of church last Sunday. Mary King said he nearly took old Mrs. Goodwin down with him.”
Kitty snickered. “And I heard his hat flew off into the mud. It took him three tries to pick it up.”
Mary frowned and reached for the butter. “Perhaps he was merely offering Mrs. Goodwin assistance in walking,” she said. “One should not jump to conclusions.”
“Oh, Mary, do pass the jam,” Lydia said, rolling her eyes. “And do not defend him! It was devilish funny. You would have laughed, too.”
Mr. Bennet glanced over the top of his spectacles, his gaze flickering from daughter to daughter. “And is this the most scandalous news our little town can boast of this week?”
Mary put up one hand as she was passing the teapot to Elizabeth. “Actually, I think Mrs. Lucas mentioned that the Wilkinsons are painting their front door bright green.”
Elizabeth poured herself a cup of tea, raising an eyebrow. “Bright green? How shocking. What will Meryton do with itself?”
“A fine joke, Lizzy, but you did not hear whatshadeof green. Kitty and me think it looks exactly like horse dr—”
“That will do extremely well, child,” Mr. Bennet sighed. “We are still at table, Lydia.”
Elizabeth and Jane traded amused smirks over their teacups. Ah, but it was good to be home again. London had certainly possessed its charms, but there was nothing to the loving chaos of Longbourn.
A few moments later, Hill entered quietly and made her way to Mrs. Bennet, bending down to whisper in her ear. Mrs. Bennet’s hand flew to her chest, and she gasped, looking over the table with wide eyes. “Oh! Girls—Mr. Bennet! Such news!”
Elizabeth’s eyes slid to Hill as she made her hasty exit, then she regarded her mother with open curiosity. “What is it, Mama?”
“Oh, it is everything splendid! Hill tells me she learned from Perkins, the stable boy—who, I might add, had it from the butcher when he went to Meryton this morning, and he heard it directly from Mr. Jackson at Netherfield—that two wealthy strangers arrived late last night asking to lease the property!”
Jane’s face lit up at once, and her eyes met Elizabeth’s across the table. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and returned Jane’s gaze, nudging her own food with her fork, determinedly feigning disinterest. Jane sat straighter, her lips parting as if she were about to explain the “strangers” in question. Elizabeth shot her sister a swift shake of her head, silently pleading for restraint. Jane’s mouth closed again, though a glimmer of delight remained in her eyes.
Mr. Bennet paused mid-bite, his mouth twitching in faint amusement. He looked between his wife and his two eldest daughters, chewing thoughtfully. Then, his eyes settled on Elizabeth, who caught his wry gaze and returned it with a look that all but begged for his mercy. He took his time finishing his mouthful, then finally spoke, his tone dry as he set down his fork.
“Well, Mrs. Bennet, I daresay these two mysterious strangers must be quite elderly and, quite probably, married as well. I see no reason to raise my blood over so little inducement.”
Mrs. Bennet clucked her tongue and fixed her husband with a fierce glare. “Nonsense, Mr. Bennet! You are always so quick to dismiss matters of importance. Why, Hill was told they are quite handsome, and there was no mention at all of wives. If they are, in fact, single and wealthy, I insist that you ride over to Netherfield and introduce yourself at once!”
“Introduce myself?” Mr. Bennet raised his eyebrows, his voice laced with mock astonishment. “Why should I importune them so? They have been in the country less than a day. At least give them a sporting chance at leisure before I go knocking on Netherfield’s door.”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Bennet replied with conviction. “No one comes to a house and does not expect to meet new acquaintances! A proper gentleman would not leave the matter to chance. Think of our daughters, Mr. Bennet! If you introduce yourself first, why, our girls will have the advantage over all the other families in Meryton!”
Elizabeth stifled a smile and glanced at Jane, who had taken to delicately nibbling on a piece of toast. She raised a brow, and Jane took the hint, clearing her throat to change the subject.
“Did any of the militia officers dine here while we were in London?”
Lydia’s head snapped up, her face alight. “Oh, Jane, you cannot imagine! Captain Carter was here nearly every day, was he not, Mama? And Mr. Denny! He has the most charming waistcoat, and his buttons, la! Oh, and how well he looks in his white breeches—”
Kitty sighed dreamily. “And he asked me, personally, if he might take a second cup of tea.”
“Oh, yes, because Mr. Denny asks for seconds at every house!” Lydia shot back with a giggle.
“Such handsome officers!” Mrs. Bennet interrupted with a delighted clap of her hands. “I daresay we must invite them all to dine here next week. Who knows, perhaps we might soon see one of you settled, and with a husband in uniform, no less!”
Elizabeth hid a smile behind her teacup as the conversation spiraled from who had looked best at tea, to the color of the officers’ horses, to who had nearly tripped in the snow outside Meryton’s assembly hall. She shared a quick look with Jane, and after a few more rounds of tales, they each pushed back their chairs and excused themselves from the table.
“I believe I shall take a walk in the garden, even if it is snowy and cold,” Elizabeth announced lightly, as they started for the hall. “I could do with a bit of fresh air.”
Jane followed her, and the moment they were alone, Jane caught her elbow, forcing Elizabeth to turn around.
“Lizzy, why did you not let me speak of Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy? Surely, everyone will hear of them soon enough.”
