“What? Where a man loves me?” said Elizabeth. “Like the one you will have, you mean? The one that you have because I refused Mr. Darcy’s proposal because of what he had done to you—”
“What are you speaking of? You refused Mr. Darcy because of what he did to Mr. Wickham!”
“No, I did not tell you. It seemed cruel. But Mr. Darcy had been boasting to Colonel Fitzwilliam about how he separated you and Mr. Bingley. He called it a triumph, in fact, and I heard that from the colonel and when Mr. Darcy asked for my hand, I was ever so angry with him. I would defend you with my last breath, Jane, and you… you don’t believe me? You think I am making up a story to dodge blame?”
Jane was reeling. She took several steps backwards, her hands falling away from her hips. She still held Mrs. Gardiner’s letter in one hand.
“I would not lie about this,” said Elizabeth.
Jane licked her lips. “If you are not lying, why have you concealed it from everyone?”
“Because…” Elizabeth bowed her head. “Because it was Mr. Wickham, and no one will believe me, and because it all comes to the same thing in the end, whether I was willing or not. I am ruined, the babe is illegitimate, and it is better if it is a secret, better for everyone. I must keep it a secret. I did not tell Mama, because she would make a fuss, and everyone would find out. And I cannot tell Papa, but I thought… you…”I thought you would console me, that finally someone would properly console me,she thought.
Jane considered. “All right.”
What did that mean? “You believe me?”
Jane nodded, curtly.
But then it was silent. So, whether her sister believed her or not, there was to be no consoling, clearly.
Elizabeth held out her hand for the letter. “May I have that?”
Jane lifted the letter and sighed.
“I suppose,” said Elizabeth dully, “that we are leaving aside the worst element of all of this. Caroline Bingley knows.”
“Yes,” said Jane. “But it’s very odd, I suppose, because she did not go directly to her brother with it, did she? Instead, she came to me, and she cornered me, and she said only, ‘I believe this is your sister’s,’ and she thrust it at me. I read it, and she stayed to watch, and she seemed to get rather a great deal of delight out all of my reactions, at my horror and shame. She smiled at me, and it was an awful sort of smile, the smile that people make when they are taking great satisfaction in your suffering. She hates me, Lizzy. She hates us both. She said, ‘Goand speak to your sister and meet me tomorrow on the road by the large oak near Netherfield, early, for a private walk and a private conversation of all of this.’”
Elizabeth was alarmed. “Oh, God in heaven. She is going to demand that you break the engagement, leave your brother, and I won’t have that, not for my sake. We must find some other way to appease her. What can we do?” Why was it that Elizabeth was so dreadful at thinking of solutions these days?
“If she does that, I shall go to Charles,” said Jane quietly. “He will not abandon me, of that I am certain. We have spoken too often, on too many occasions, of how miserable we both were, these past many months, without the other. We’ll find somewhere to send you, I suppose, one of those homes for women who are increasing without husbands, somewhere discreet, somewhere far away. He will help us, and he will silence Caroline.”
Elizabeth knew of those sorts of places, of course, but it was the height of ignominy to be sent to a place like that. She well knew how women were treated in those places. People might be there to help the women, but they thought the women likely deserved it, that the women had sinned and were meant to be punished.
Jane sighed. “You could thank me, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth looked up at her. “Thank you?”
“For reacting as I am. For being helpful to you at all. If we decided to throw you out, we’d be well within the bounds of decency, and you well know it. I could tell Mama, and she would agree with me.”
Elizabeth’s lips parted. Was this Jane? Was this her sister who saw the good in everyone? Who was sweet and giving and careful? Why was she behaving in this manner towards her? “You are hurt that I didn’t tell you straightaway, I suppose.”
“No, I suppose I understand. You were ashamed of yourself.”
“Primarily, you were so happy that I did not wish to burden you with it.”
Jane raised her eyebrows. When her voice came out, it was faintly sarcastic. “Yes, that’s like you, Lizzy, thinking only of me, never of yourself.”
Elizabeth was not used to hearing her sister speak ironically, let alone bitingly. “You think I am selfish?”
“No,” said Jane. “Not intentionally. And not as bad as Lydia or Kitty. But you do have the tendency to do impulsive things and not think through the consequences. Refusing Mr. Collins is only one example. There is the way that you came after me when I was staying at Longbourn, of course, when I was ill, that’s another example.”
“But I did that for you, too! You were sick, and I had to see if you were all right. I was terribly worried.”
“They already thought poorly of us, Lizzy! Then you arrived, unchaperoned, mud on your skirts, hair untidy, demanding to see me? Then you immediately get into sparring matches with Mr. Darcy—”
“Sparring matches?” said Elizabeth. “You were in bed the entire time, ill, and I don’t see why you think—”
