“Thank you,” she said, smiling at the servant as she took the small bundle.
Curiosity burned within her, but she placed it on the side of the table next to her plate, as good manners dictated. She ate quickly—and silently, with Darcy hidden behind his newspaper, apparently enraptured by the current state of affairs—and excused herself from the room.
Once upstairs, she checked on Jane, who was still fast asleep from the night before. Elizabeth smiled fondly at her elder sister from the doorway between their rooms. Jane always was a bit of a late riser, even when she was at the peak of health.
“I am going for a walk in the gardens. If she awakes before I return, would you please send someone to fetch me?”
The maid—a new girl, not the same as the night before—eagerly nodded before returning to her mending. Elizabeth exchanged her house slippers for a pair of walking boots, fetched her shawl to ward off the damp air, and made her way outside.
Once she had wandered the garden path far enough to have stretched her legs and moved just out of direct sight from any windows, she sat on a bench, untied the string that bound all three missives, and opened the first from her father.
Elizabeth,
I have heard from your Uncle Gardiner. He has completed his inquiries in town. Instead of writing them again myself, I shall practice economy and save the ink by simply forwarding his letter directly on to you. I have also enclosed a letter from your aunt Gardiner. I’m afraid its open state is due to your sister Lydia hoping to find some spending money inside.
Based on your uncle’s news, I have made the decision to allow Jane to marry Mr. Bingley. You may inform Mrs. Hurst, so she can tell her brother to visit Mr. Philips as soon as he wishes to discuss the marriage settlements. A special license is best, although your mother’s face upon hearing the news for the first time when the banns are called at church would be quite the sight to behold!
T. Bennet
Elizabeth stared at the page on her lap in mild disbelief, her hands trembling. How like her father to put off anything that may cause him the slightest bit of inconvenience! To have the marriage be accepted vis-à-vis herself and Mrs. Hurst, ratherthan Bingley paying a call and her father playing an active role in the settlements—it bordered on negligence.
She let out an angry huff, then forcefully crumpled the letter, shoving it deep into the pocket of her dress. It took several deep breaths before she felt calm enough to pick up and read the next missive, which was the one from her uncle Gardiner.
Thomas,
It is quite the coincidence that I am already somewhat familiar with your Mr. Bingley. His father and I invested in many of the same ventures over the years, and he was a member of my club here in London. I have even met his son a few times. It therefore took much less time than it normally would to discover information about his character.
Carl Bingley—your Mr. Bingley’s father—was a rough, self-made man born of German parents. He lamented loudly over the years about how soft his boy was. As the father wasn’t any more ruthless in business than I am, that is actually quite significant.
From the Runners I’ve sent out and the inquiries I’ve personally made—and do not dare to ask how I know about some of these things—young Mr. Bingley has not been seen at gambling halls or the more depraved brothels. The few actresses and courtesans he has visited had nothing negative to say of him. In fact, as a whole, they spoke of his uncommon gentleness and unusual concern for their well-being. He often left extra money, beyond what he paid to their bawds.
The Runner I sent up to Cambridge, the school where he attended, could find no evidence of mistreated young women, unpaid debts, or false promises. Since he has only recently left the school, any such rumors of that sort would still be somewhat fresh and active.
Additionally, his finances are all in good order. There would be no need for him to marry for money.
I hope this is of use to you. From the information I have gathered, I would trust him to marry any of the girls, including Jane.
Be sure to invite us to the wedding breakfast or my wife may not forgive you.
Edward
Elizabeth gave a soft laugh at this last line, which served its purpose in overriding her mortification in her uncle’s words about prostitutes. While this was one of her primary concerns about Jane being married, she did not want to think about the more unsavory side of things in London.
The letter cheered her significantly. For the first time, Elizabeth felt as though she could truly feel comfortable saying Jane would be safe as Mrs. Bingley. There was a truth in all of Bingley’s looks, and this letter seemed to confirm that her instincts were correct.
Ah, but what about last night’s panic?a snide voice whispered in her head.Your instincts then were to take Jane and flee! Don’t be so smug.
Elizabeth had to admit she’d acted quite foolishly the night prior. The combination of fatigue and her aunt’s good wine had caused her imagination to go far beyond her typical tendency towards panic. In the light of day, the idea that two gentlemen and a lady would mistreat an ill young woman not three miles from her home was quite absurd, especially when that young lady was well-connected in the county they all inhabited.
She gave a little laugh at herself, then shook her head and opened the envelope Lydia had already unsealed. Fortunately, Mrs. Gardiner was well aware of the perils that came from sending a letter to the Bennet household and rarely included sensitive information in a note that was addressed to her niece.
No sooner had she read the first line than she heard her name being called. “Miss Lizzy?”
She looked up and gave Jamie a warm smile. “Hello, Jamie. Would you like to join me?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t have much time. I promised the stablemaster I would help with Satan.”
“I beg your pardon?” She blinked at him, certain that she had heard incorrectly.
