The composure was becoming exasperating.
Mr Bennet unfolded the letter once more. "Though now that I look again—"
The entire table turned towards him.
"What?" demanded Lydia.
Mrs Bennet peered over her husband's shoulder at the page.
"The handwriting is dreadful. I am not certain… but I believe the gentleman's name may actually be Bingley."
For a moment nobody spoke. Then Lydia shrieked. Kitty followed immediately afterwards and Mary dropped her fork.
Elizabeth's heart gave a leap, for surely where Mr Bingley went, Darcy followed.
Only Jane remained entirely composed, though the faint colour which rose into her cheeks betrayed her more than any exclamation could have done.
Mr Bennet looked from one daughter to the other and sighed.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mr Bingley's return to Hertfordshire was followed by only a few days of uncertainty before his intentions became impossible to misunderstand. If his admiration had been evident in Lyme, it appeared only to have increased during their separation. He sought Jane's company whenever propriety permitted it and looked happier in her presence than any man had a right to do.
The event itself occurred with very little drama and great happiness on the part of everyone at Longbourn.
Elizabeth, returning from an errand in the village, encountered Mr Bingley in the hall and was immediately struck by his appearance. His eyes were wide and he kept pulling at his cravat. He greeted her warmly enough, but there was a distraction in his manner which sat very oddly upon him. Twice during their brief conversation his attention wandered towards the garden door, and when Elizabeth happened to follow his glance she saw him colour like a schoolboy caught in a mischief.
"Ohhhh," she said.
Mr Bingley laughed, though rather nervously. "Yes."
Elizabeth smiled. "I believe my sister is walking in the rose garden."
???
Ten minutes later the entire household knew the happy news and if Mrs Bennet returned to levels of volume that had been unheard in the home for quite some time, no one begrudged her for it.
Yet when the first excitement subsided and Elizabeth found herself alone with her sister for a moment, it was her sister’s quiet delight that stuck in her mind.
Jane sat by the window, one hand still resting upon the arm of her chair. She appeared lit from the inside. Contentment came off her in waves and she looked as beautiful as she had ever done.
"You knew," said Elizabeth.
Jane smiled. "I hoped, dearest."
"No. You knew."
A faint colour rose in her cheeks. "I trusted him."
Elizabeth laughed and kissed her forehead. "Which is infinitely more irritating."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The days following the engagement saw a whirl of visitors descend upon Longbourn. Every neighbour within ten miles appeared to consider themselves entitled to offer congratulations, or opinions upon wedding breakfasts. Lace and gowns were discussed at exhausting length. Mrs Bennet received it all with quiet joy, whilst Jane endured the attention with her usual sweetness and good humour.
Mr Bingley was a constant visitor. Elizabeth suspected he would willingly have taken up permanent residence in the drawing room had propriety permitted it. She had never seen two people so entirely content in one another's company. Even silence seemed sufficient for them. They sat together, walked together and looked at one another with such evident affection that nobody could doubt their happiness for a moment.
Elizabeth could not have been happier for her sister. She tried, however, to silence a small voice which had become increasingly difficult to ignore. Mr Bingley was here. Darcy was not.
