“His name is Bingley, and he is a gentleman of large fortune from the north. Mama says he is young—two-or-three-and-twenty. He is to take the place before Michaelmas. My father plans to call upon him immediately.” Charlotte’s voice wavered slightly with restrained hope. She cast a sidelong glance at Jane, and Elizabeth thought she could predict what her friend was thinking.No one stands a chance with Jane in the room.
Elizabeth was not considered a threat to the other ladies. Everyone knew her guardians hadgrand plansfor her. That was why her education had been so exhaustive, and why she spent much of the year in Town.Even were I to fall in love with a local gentleman, I doubt I would be allowed to marry without a certain prince’s permission.She knew not the exact nature of the agreement her uncle had signed…Perhaps it was time to ask Mr. Bennet for details.
The ladies chatted amiably for another half hour before it was time to bid each other farewell. Maria Lucas, who had gone upstairs to speak with Kitty and Lydia, was called for, and the three Lucas ladies departed. Jane promised to send a picnic invitation around soon.
“What do you think of that, girls?” Mrs. Bennet asked when their guests had departed. “Usually, long-established families take Netherfield Park. To have a single gentleman is a rare treat.” She contained her enthusiasm well, as she had learned to do long ago. “It is a very good thing for the ladies of the area. No new gentlemen have come for so long, and many of our own have gone off to fight the Little Corsican.” She cast a look at Jane. “I am sure he will find much to be pleased with here.”
Jane’s cheeks turned pink at the implications, but she said nothing, her modest smile betraying both embarrassment and good humor. Elizabeth knew the Bennet ladies had healthydowries—she had overheard Mr. and Mrs. Bennet speaking of it a year ago. Mrs. Bennet had suggested giving Jane a season in Town. Mr. Bennet had vehemently disagreed, citing his own sister’s experiences of being forced into matrimony as reason enough to refuse. He had reminded his wife firmly but gently that their daughters were well provided for.
It was nothing to Elizabeth’s dowry, of course, but it brought her comfort to know her favorite cousins would not be thrown into genteel poverty when Mr. Bennet died.
“It will be wonderful to make new friends,” Jane said, drawing Elizabeth’s attention back to the discussion at hand. “I wonder if he will bring any ladies with him.”
“If they are his sisters, I will care not a jot. But if he has a house party with single ladies…Why, we already have a surplus of unmarried ladies here. It will be most unfair.” Mrs. Bennet huffed and shifted, signs of controlled agitation beginning to break through her carefully schooled expression.
“It will be well, Mama,” Mary soothed, patting her mother’s hand. “Perhaps he will bring a large party of gentlemen with him for shooting.”
“That would be agreeable.” Mrs. Bennet nodded, mollified. “We must prepare! Jane, Mary, you both need new gowns for the assembly.”
Elizabeth cut in gently. “As it happens, I brought some fabric from Town—”
The rest of what she wanted to say was drowned out by three ladies exclaiming excitedly.
“You sly thing! My dear niece, you said not a word last evening. Can we see it now?” Mrs. Bennet clapped her hands together in delight.
“Of course.” Elizabeth stepped into the hall and asked Weston to bring the trunk to the parlor. He did as he was bid andreturned a few minutes later, setting it before his mistress with a respectful bow.
Elizabeth opened the trunk and displayed the silks, satins, muslins, and cotton bolts. Each elicited exclamations of admiration from her cousins and aunt. “I even brought some fabric for Kitty and Lydia,” she said, holding up pretty pastel lengths of muslin. “I thought they would both like to have new gowns for the spring.”
“Lydia will need it. That girl has grown three inches again. We cannot let her skirts down anymore!” Mrs. Bennet shook her head in mock despair. “The youngest of my girls is also the tallest. Who would have known?” Lydia, indeed, was taller than Jane, and her figure was more like their mother’s—curved instead of willowy.
“I like this blue very much,” Jane said reverently, stroking the expensive silk. “I have a lovely gold ribbon that I could use to trim the sleeves and hem.”
“Yes, that is perfect! And there are shoe roses here.” Elizabeth reached into the bottom of the trunk. “These would be just the thing. And Mary, I know this green is darker than pastel, but those light colors do nothing for your complexion. I thought it would bring out the green in your eyes.”
Pleased with her cousin’s assessment, Mary agreed. She held the green silk close to her chest, one end lifted beside her face. “What do you think, Mama? Is Elizabeth’s assessment accurate?”
“Indeed, it is! I could expect nothing less from someone so experienced with the fashionable set. Elizabeth, your taste is exquisite. Tell me, is this red and gold fabric for me?” She held up another bolt of silk—dark red with gold threads woven throughout.
“Yes, ma’am.” Elizabeth leaned in conspiratorially. “Aunt Caroline picked it especially for you.”
And so she had. Mrs. Bennet looked as though she might swoon.
“For me? Truly? Oh my, I shall go distracted!” She pressed a hand to her chest, then groaned theatrically. “And I cannot tell a soul!”
“That may be so,” Elizabeth said with a grin, “but you can certainly revel in it privately. I have just the design, too. Here—look at this.” She pulled a book of fashion plates from the trunk and opened it to a marked page. “I know you like lace, but see how the simplicity of the design will accentuate your figure? There is Belgian lace in the trunk that will do.”
“You are very good to us, my dear. Please tell me you brought your uncle some books. He will be very sorry to be left out.”
The ladies laughed together as Elizabeth confirmed she had indeed brought her uncle several volumes to add to his library.
They spent the rest of the afternoon poring over fashion plates and making plans for their little picnic. When it was time for supper, Elizabeth had the trunk returned to her room.
This will be a wonderful stay,she told her reflection as Baker did her hair, deft fingers arranging her curls. Though she missed heraunt, she knew she would have a pleasant holiday.
The picnic, arranged by the three eldest young ladies of Longbourn, took place on a sunny September day. Kitty and Lydia sulked, for they were not allowed to attend the picnic, but their mother settled their complaints by offering a compromise: they could have Maria Lucas for tea the next day.
The sky was a soft, endless blue, and the late-summer warmth lingered just enough to be pleasant rather than oppressive. Rugswere spread beneath the trees at the edge of the little wilderness, baskets arranged with care, and parasols leaned nearby as though awaiting further use. It was precisely the sort of day meant for gentle society and idle speculation.
