“Best?” said Elizabeth faintly, looking at Jane. What had happened? How could she and Jane be so entirely out of touch with each other now? Was this her own fault for having kept the truth from Jane for so long? Was it that Jane was altered by her long and lonely time in London?
Maybe Elizabeth had been imagining in Jane something unrealistic. She had thought that Jane would be her staunchest defender, always on her side, the person who sympathized with her perfectly.
But maybe that was too much to ask of anyone.
And given the situation, anyway, Elizabeth with child, an illicit and illegitimate child, and Jane about to be married into the Bingley family, given the situation, maybe Jane didn’t have the wherewithal to be Elizabeth’s staunchest defender.
Perhaps, in truth, her sister had never had much of a backbone. Jane was sweet, Jane was pleasant, Jane was quiet, but Jane certainly never stood up to anyone.
Elizabeth knew that if she had been ill at Netherfield, Jane certainly would not have walked there three miles in the mud all alone, and Elizabeth would never expected it of her timid sister.
Why was she expecting that of Jane now?
I am expecting Jane to be me,she thought.If the situation was reversed, I would be Jane’s staunchest defender, but that is how I would behave, not how Jane would behave.
So, this was the way it was going to go, then.
Elizabeth turned to look at Caroline Bingley, letting all of it crash into her with a certain sort of horrific knowledge. “Well, when shall we go?”
“I don’t know,” said Caroline. “Likely after the wedding. It certainly would not do for all of us to be absent for the wedding. We may need to speak to Charles about moving it up.”
“You haven’t told him?” said Jane.
“I have not,” said Caroline. “But how far gone are you with child, Eliza?”
Elizabeth licked her lips. “A bit more than two months, I should think.”
“So, we should have the wedding soon, then,” said Caroline, “so as to be in Lambton by late October, just to be on the safe side.”
It would be six months of this, then, six months of Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst, as Elizabeth grew larger and rounder and less and less able to do anything for herself. At the end, she would be entirely dependent upon them, and then they would take her child from her, and she would never be able to claim the small one, never be able to tell the baby that she was its mother.
She had thought things were the worst they had ever been for her, but she should not have thought such a thing, because of course, this would be worse. Of course, the worst was yet to come.
“We are ever so grateful, Caroline,” said Jane. “Lizzy, thank Caroline for this solution, this absolutely wondrous solution.”
Elizabeth pulled her mouth into something that resembled a smile. “Yes, thank you ever so, Caroline.”
Caroline smirked at her. “Oh, it is actually my pleasure, Eliza.”
Elizabeth felt a chill at that. Caroline Bingley had a cruel streak. She had seen it. She had seen that the woman could be quick to ridicule. She had seen how easily the woman wholeheartedly adopted the viewpoint of someone she wished to impress, and this bespoke how disingenuous Caroline could be when she wished to manipulate others.
Elizabeth was going to be entirely under Caroline’s power at this cottage.
“Of course,” said Caroline, “you will write to your aunt and tell her she need not accompany you, but be sure to secure the cottage for our use. Whereabouts in Lambton is it, exactly?”
Elizabeth wanted to tell her that Mr. Darcy had proposed to her. That he had come to see her and had been so nervous that his voice had shook a bit, that she had later realized he had been nervous around her in nearly every one of their interactions, that what she had taken for haughtiness was actually Mr. Darcy trying to cover his own lack of surety, and that he had told her that his feelings for her would not be repressed.He wanted me, Caroline,she wanted to say to the other woman.
But what was the point of that?
He certainly would never want Elizabeth now.
Also, it would be madness to antagonize this woman further, not when she was clearly planning to take great joy in keeping Elizabeth entirely under her power for six months, when she was going to take some kind of delight in punishing Elizabeth for that.
Later, Elizabeth brought the thought up with Jane.
They were alone together in the bedchamber they shared, and Elizabeth was composing the letter to Mrs. Gardiner, though she was having difficulty putting her pen to paper to seal her own fate.
“You said it yesterday, Jane, she hates us,” said Elizabeth. “She hates me. She saw it when I didn’t, that Mr. Darcy had feelings for me and that I was a rival to her, and she hated me then, and I did not notice, because I didn’t think he did, but it turns out she was correct. Now, she thinks to take me to up to his back doorstep and to parade around in front of me as she goes after him, and to rub my nose in the fact that I can never have him. She means to torture me, Jane.”
