The sisters exchanged glances.
Elizabeth said, “Nothing!”
“I agree,” Mary added, “though our reasons may be slightly different. Shall we start with your employer? Mr Bingley courted my sister vigorously for 6 weeks. He told her he was going to town for a few days. He will either return, or he will not. Agreed?”
Everyone nodded.
“His sister and friend left right behind him, so in a few days we shall know if he is resolute and trustworthy—whether he trusts his own intellect and feelings, or his pernicious sisters and haughty friend.”
Everyone nodded with ferocious frowns.
“We have already established that telling him of the incident might cost your young hothead his position, and Elizabeth and I are unwilling to be part of such a scheme over a bit of mud. We are not strangers to the laundry, so we can clean our own dresses with none the wiser. That prohibits you telling him, or anyone in the household, for that matter. Even if that were not the case, I would still oppose it.”
Kep asked, “Might I ask why, Miss Mary?”
“Because remaining silent will bring clarity, and telling him would bring more mud. If you disclose this incident, he will be honour-bound to return to apologise, if nothing else. He will also be honour-bound to deal with his sister, which he has shown no inclination to do. In short, he would return, and we would know nothing more than that he has a minimal sense of honour,embarrassment, or concern for his reputation. We would never know if he returned because of his sister’s actions or his own merits.”
“That makes sense,” Newton said. “If he returns, he does so by his own design, despite the likely objections of his sisters, and possibly his mentor as well. Your sister would know more of his worthiness.”
“Correct on all counts. Jane will know what happened here within the hour, and she can make her choices accordingly.”
“It all makes sense,” Kep said. “Do you agree, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Yes, though my purposes are slightly more devious than Mary’s. You see, goodness is unevenly distributed in our family. Mary and Jane received the lion’s share. I get by on what is left over.”
“I am shaking in my boots,” Kep said with a grin.
Ordinarily, a man in his position wouldneversay such a thing to most ladies; but he had earned their confidence and respect.
“Do you object to knowing my deviousness?”
“We insist upon it.”
“As Mary said, whether he keeps his word or not will give us—and more particularly Jane—some idea of his worthiness. He has some unfortunate connections in his sisters, but we would be ill-advised to throw stones on that score.”
“Agreed.”
“If he returns, our involvement in the affair is over, and nothing more need be said. I shall leave my elder sister to deal with her potential suitor as she chooses, and should a firmer attachment evolve, she can choose how to deal with the sisters at her leisure.”
“A sensible philosophy, if I may say so,” agreed Mr Newton.
Elizabeth stared at the ground and finally said, “Now, we approach the devious part. What happens if he doesnotreturn?”
Mary frowned. She was not in the habit of working out devious consequences, nor had she seriously considered that he might not return.
Elizabeth spoke gravely. “He has already lost any opportunity to communicate with Jane easily and properly. He would be bound to write through intermediaries, most likely his pernicious sisters or our indolent father. We may very well have a note from his sisters on our return, which I will assume is mostly lies. It will take a few days before we know if he returns or not, correct?”
Mary agreed, and the men nodded.
“I hope it does not come down to that, but if it does, I need information to help my sister deal with the repercussions. This may be my last chance to get it, so with your permission, allow me to explain my thinking.”
Elizabeth walked to a spot in the road with a few feet of clean, undisturbed mud. “Allow me to display my reasoning graphically. Mr Newton, would you agree that emotional state, pain, love, and such matters can be represented in a very rough way mathematically?”
“Of course it can. Both my namesake and Descartes[x] would turn over in their graves at the slight doubt shown by even asking the question.”
“Let us presume Mr Bingley does not return after so publicly courting my sister. I know Jane. She will believe she did something wrong—she did not show her feelings enough, she was not clever enough in conversation, her musical skills were lacking, her portion was insufficient, our family was inadequate—something along those lines. Our mother will lament his loss to the ends of the earth and start measuring the hedgerows to work out where she will have to live when my father dies, probably within the fortnight.”
Mary sighed dramatically. “I agree.”
