“Miss Bingley is asking me for dinner this evening,” Jane replied, her face lighting up.
“Let me see.” Mrs. Bennet snatched the paper from Jane’s hand and read it over. “Oh, that’s disappointing; the gentlemen will be dining out.”
“It is very kind of them to extend the invitation,” Jane said. “May I have the carriage, Mama?”
Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips and looked out the window. “No, I think it will be needed on the farm today. You shall ride Nellie.”
“Go on horseback?” Elizabeth gasped, bouncing Benjamin lightly in her arms. “Mama, she will be soaked through by the time she arrives!”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Bennet declared. “A little rain never hurt anyone! You shall ride on horseback, Jane. It will do your complexion good, and they cannot refuse to keep you at Netherfield overnight should the rain become too heavy.”
Jane hesitated. “I do not wish to put them to any trouble—”
Before Mrs. Bennet could insist further, another voice interrupted from the doorway.
“I believe I can offer a solution,” Mrs. Gardiner said as she stepped into the room, having just arrived from Stoke Estate. “My carriage is waiting outside. If Jane is to go, she may take it while I visit with you all.”
Relief flickered across Jane’s features, and she quickly accepted. Within minutes, she was bundled into her cloak and stepping outside to the waiting carriage. Elizabeth followed, still cradling Benjamin, to bid her sister farewell.
“Enjoy your evening,” she said warmly.
“I am sure I shall.”
A low rumble of thunder echoed in the distance as the carriage set off. Five minutes later, the skies opened, and rain poured down in torrents.
Mrs. Bennet, peering anxiously out the window, sighed in satisfaction. “There now, you see? Had she gone on horseback, she would have been obliged to stay the night!”
Kitty, stretching on the settee, let out a dramatic sigh. “I do wish I had something interesting to do today like Jane does. Perhaps we ought to go into Meryton.”
“You do quite enough gallivanting,” Mary sniffed, not looking up from her book. “Between the weather and the homeless, the idea of going into the village is ludicrous.”
“You should come with us next time, Mary,” Kitty said mischievously. “If only to look at the latest fabrics. Perhaps a new gown might suit you.”
“Indeed, Mary,” Mrs. Bennet agreed, clasping her hands. “You are always dressing so plainly. We must find you something a little more… fashionable.”
As Kitty and Mrs. Bennet began discussing ribbons and trims, Elizabeth noticed Mrs. Gardiner shifting in her seat, her expression slightly troubled.
“What is it, Aunt?” she asked quietly, adjusting Benjamin against her shoulder.
Mrs. Gardiner exhaled, shaking her head as though trying to dispel a troublesome thought. “I should not worry you with it, my dear.”
Elizabeth arched a brow. “Now you must tell me.”
Mrs. Gardiner hesitated, then leaned in slightly. “The inspector coming next week has me feeling a bit uneasy.”
Elizabeth frowned. “Why should he? It is ridiculous to think that you or Uncle Gardiner would be under suspicion.”
Mrs. Gardiner sighed and folded her hands in her lap. “It is not so much what he has said but what has been implied. When we first received word that an inquiry was being made into the fire, I thought nothing of it—surely it was to determine the extent of damages, perhaps to root out fraud among the insurance claims. But now, Elizabeth…” She hesitated before continuing in a lower voice. “Now, it seems the authorities believe the fire was not an accident.”
Elizabeth’s heart gave an uncomfortable lurch. “What do you mean?”
“They believe it was arson,” Mrs. Gardiner admitted grimly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not carelessness, not misfortune—arson. Deliberate destruction.”
A chill ran down Elizabeth’s spine, though the drawing room was warm. “That is absurd. Who would do such a thing?”
Mrs. Gardiner shook her head. “That, they do not yet know. But, Elizabeth… we were among the first to flee.”
Elizabeth sat up straighter. “Because we knew about the fire first.
