“Miss Bennet! Miss Elizabeth!”
Elizabeth turned to see Mr. Bingley approaching, his usual warm expression lighting up at the sight of them. Jane, beside her, drew in a sharp breath.
Ah. There it was.
Elizabeth pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.
“Mr. Bingley,” she greeted, curtsying as he reached them. Jane followed suit, though her curtsy was stiffer, more hurried.
“What a happy coincidence,” Bingley said brightly. “I had been intending to call at Longbourn later today, but now you have saved me the trouble.”
Elizabeth tilted her head. “How fortunate for you, sir.”
Bingley grinned at her before turning his full attention to Jane. “Miss Bennet, I hope you are well?”
Jane’s gloved fingers fumbled with the stitching along the edge of her reticule. “Very well, thank you, Mr. Bingley. And your sisters?”
“Oh, quite well,” he said, brightening at the question. “Caroline has been occupied with a great deal of correspondence—friends in London, you know. And Louisa keeps busy helping to manage the household.” He gave a small, sheepish shrug. “I believe they find country life a bit… uneventful.”
Elizabeth arched a brow. “Do they indeed? And you, sir? Have you found Hertfordshire equally dull?”
Bingley laughed. “Not in the least! I must confess, I have been quite entertained.”
Elizabeth inclined her head. “I am glad to hear it.”
Jane, on the other hand, only smiled, her fingers still nervously working with her reticule.
Bingley hesitated, as if expecting more, but when nothing came, he continued, “Surely you have heard by now of the Meryton Planting Festival next week. I do hope I shall have the pleasure of seeing you there?”
Elizabeth nearly rolled her eyes. He was looking directly at Jane when he said it, though Jane, as ever, kept her gaze lowered, nodding politely rather than giving him anything like encouragement. She only murmured something about it being a kindness for the Lucases to take on the chief duty of organizing the festivities again.
Bingley beamed. “Yes, quite! It shall be a fine day. I believe there will be games and dancing and more food than we can all eat. I have promised a few kegs of apple cider from Netherfield’s cellars.”
Jane’s cheeks pinked, but her response was simply, “I do love cider.”
Elizabeth resisted the urge to groan.
Mr. Bingley lingered a moment longer, but when Jane gave him nothing further, he eventually made his farewells and strolled off down the street.
Elizabeth turned sharply to Jane the moment he was out of earshot. “You are absolutely, maddeningly pathetic!”
Jane blinked at her, startled. “I beg your pardon?”
Elizabeth huffed. “Must I spell it out for you? You have atendrefor Mr. Bingley.”
Jane’s face went entirely pink. “Elizabeth—”
“You need not deny it. I am not blind.”
Jane shook her head, hands clasping together tightly. “It is nothing.”
“It is certainlynotnothing.“ Elizabeth threw her hands up. “You are in love with him, and yet you stand before him like a statue! The poor man probably believes you find him dull and tiresome.”
Jane’s eyes widened. “No! I would never—”
“And yet, you barely spoke to him just now. He was practically begging for some sign of encouragement, and you gave him none.”
Jane looked down at her hands. “I do not know how.”
