“I heard my parents speaking about it this morning. When Papa was in the village yesterday, he saw Mr. Phillips, heard him gossiping about it with Mr. Goulding – he had been summoned to Longbourn to discuss the entail. Mr. Bennet certainly did not tarry.”
Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath. “Perhaps there is some other distant cousin – of course my father would wish to know.”
Charlotte’s expression and her voice were utterly devoid of feeling. “Of course it will be Jane, beautiful Jane. She will get Longbourn, and will be paraded around London.”
“Charlotte,” Elizabeth gasped. She had never known Charlotte to be mean spirited, and even now she could not excuse it. “I am sorry we shall keep our home, when you wished to be mistress of it someday.”
Elizabeth moved away to retrieve her gown, and changed into it behind a screen. When she had dressed herself, she folded the nightrail and laid in on Charlotte’s bed. “Generally when one condoles with somebody bereaved, they speak of the merits of the deceased. You may not expect me to have much to say in praise of Mr. Collins, but I had expected it ofyou.”
Charlotte stared at her blankly. “Perhaps you are right, but I can find only rage. Go home, Elizabeth. I will not disappoint you with my ill humor.”
Elizabeth went home with a twisting in her gut over how she had left things with her grieving, angry friend. To her chagrin, there was a celebratory air at Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet’s voice could be heard as soon as Elizabeth entered the house, crowing over Jane’s presumed good fortune.
At the end of the corridor, the door to her father’s study opened; Mr. Bennet and Mr. Phillips stepped out of the room, and Mrs. Bennet came running. “Well, dear Brother! Do tell us there is good news!”
Mr. Bennet glanced over at Elizabeth, and beckoned her to join them. “Come, ladies, let us all go and sit in the parlor.”
Elizabeth did as she was bid. Jane was sitting with their aunt and cousin Julia, while Lydia and Kitty worked on somevery ugly bonnets at a table in the corner, and Mary attacked her instrument.
“Girls, go into the village for a little while,” Mr. Bennet said, offering them each a sixpence.
Mrs. Gardiner went into the music room and laid a hand on Mary’s shoulder. “Could you work with Julia for a little while?” Mary agreed, making room for her cousin to sit beside her on the piano stool. Mrs. Gardiner shut the door behind them, and resumed her seat between Jane and Elizabeth. She took them each by the hand as she waited for Lydia and Kitty to clear out.
When the two younger girls were giggling their way out of the house, Mr. Bennet surveyed his wife and more sensible relations. They all waited for him to speak. “Mr. Phillips has brought over some documents regarding the entail.”
Despite Charlotte’s vitriolic misery, Elizabeth felt a pang of pity for her friend. “So soon?”
“Had we discovered there was some further distant relation set to inherit, it would have been best to know at once,” Mr. Bennet said evenly.
“But you did not uncover any male heirs,” Mrs. Gardiner prompted him.
“No, we did not,” Mr. Phillips said.
At the same moment, Mr. Bennet held up a hand. “This is not to leave this room.” He looked at his wife, who had already begun to sputter with avaricious glee. “I will not have every soldier in the regiment knocking down our door to woo Jane.”
“Oh, Jane!” Mrs. Bennet sprang from her chair and squared her favorite daughter’s face in her hands. “Oh, my dear girl! I knew how it would be! You shall have this house! Thank the Lord, we are saved!”
When her mother released her, Jane turned toward Elizabeth with a look of astonishment. “Can it really be possible?”
“Most certainly,” Mr. Phillips said with a proud smile. “If there are no other heirs male, and there are not, the eldest daughter may inherit.”
“Well, Jane, what do you say to that?” Mr. Bennet grinned at his daughter.
“I am so sorry for Charlotte – and poor Mr. Collins!” Jane wrung her hands. “I suppose I must learn to manage the estate.”
“No, my dear, you must find a suitable husband! I daresay that Mr. Bingley must feel terribly foolish for giving you up, when he learns of this,” Mrs. Bennet said smugly.
“Surely you would not wish him, or any man, to woo Jane because of this,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “Not any more than you would wish….” She broke off.
Jane looked nervously at their aunt. “What is it?”
Mrs. Gardiner looked at Mr. Bennet. “They do not know, do they? Tom, you ought to have told them.”
“I knew that Bingley fellow was a coxcomb,” Mr. Bennet said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He fixed a stern look on his wife. “Madam, if I hear anything we discuss repeated by somebody outside of this room, I will cut off your allowance until Easter, is that understood?”
Mrs. Bennet was on the edge of her seat, already on the scent of some great secret. She hurriedly nodded her agreement and waved her handkerchief as she urged him to go on.
Elizabeth latched onto her aunt’s hand, bracing herself for what was to follow. She tore her eyes from Jane, sharing her sister’s overwhelmed trepidation, and she stared expectantly at her father.
