Page 60 of Resilience

Jane’s step was light, careful. Her voice, when she spoke, was gentler still. “I pray that I am not disturbing you.”

Elizabeth met her sister’s eyes in the mirror. “Not at all.”

Jane came further into the room, her hands folded before her in the familiar pose of quiet delicacy she favoured. She was always pale lately, but her eyes were alight with an expression Elizabeth had learned to dread months ago.

“I thought we might talk for a while,” she said. “We have not confided in one another in ages, Lizzy.”

Elizabeth pulled her yellow evening gown from her wardrobe. “We have hardly seen one another, and I do not believe our relationship merits those chats anymore.”

Jane smiled faintly. “I suppose I deserve that. I did not submit to my nerves easily as a new bride.”

Elizabeth turned at that and pierced Jane with her gaze. “Indeed.”

“But that does not mean that I do not still care very much about what happens to you.” Jane sat upon the chair by the window. “Lizzy…have you truly considered…everything?”

Elizabeth said nothing, only waited for Jane to continue.

Jane hesitated only long enough to make her concern seem reluctant rather than deliberate. “I cannot help but wonder whether this engagement…whether it may be thought imprudent.”

Elizabeth sat upon the bed and folded her hands calmly in her lap. “In what particular, might I ask, Jane?”

“People talk, you know. They always do.” Jane looked sad. “Three sisters marrying so… brilliantly. Mr Bingley, Captain Denny, and now Mr Darcy. They may begin to think our family is…ambitious.”

Elizabeth smiled and leaned forward as if sharing a great secret with her sister. “They may believe whatever they please.”

“But reputation matters,” Jane said insistently. “You have always said so. And Mr Darcy must feel it too. His family, his friends in society…will they not be uneasy about him marrying down?”

“No more than society was when you married down by accepting a tradesman’s son, Sister.” Elizabeth’s mouth curved, but there was no humour in it. “You mistake Mr Darcy entirely if you suppose he concerns himself with such gossip.”

“There is no call to insult my husband.” Jane’s brow furrowed prettily. “I only wish to spare you pain. You deserve every happiness, Lizzy, but I cannot help fearing that this union may bring…social difficulties.”

“I have no desire to offend Mr Bingley. He is a kind person, and he has my respect. It is your behaviour I object to.” Elizabeth said. Then she considered. “Is that all you fear?”

Jane raised a brow. “What else do you imagine I fear?”

Elizabeth held her gaze. “That I will be invited where you are not. That at a dinner in London, you might enter the dining room behind me.”

Jane’s expression did not change, but something in her eyes did.

Elizabeth continued. “You linger in Lambton. You delay your journey north. You tell Mary you are too unwell to travel farther, yet you attend dinners and walk daily with your husband when the weather permits. You were well enough to move on before I arrived on Sunday.”

Elizabeth went on. “You are waiting for an invitation that will never come.”

Jane rose in indignation. “Lizzy, how can you think so unkindly of me?”

Elizabeth turned fully toward her now. “Because I finally know you now. I understand you perfectly. That is why you had no further use of me once you obtained your proposal. Once I saw you for yourself, you were glad to be rid of my company.”

Jane shook her head in rejection of Elizabeth’s words. “I am merely hopeful that–”

“You sit and you hope that Mr Darcy will relent. That Miss Darcy will forget. That your insult to her at the Netherfield Ball will be smoothed over by time and proximity.” Elizabeth’s voice was steady. “You are mistaken.”

Jane’s lips parted. “I never meant–”

“You meant exactly what you said,” Elizabeth replied. “You resented the attention she and Mary received. You resented that it was not all yours, for that seems to be all you care about since you met Mr Bingley. That all attention and good fortune should be yours, and yours alone. And no one who witnessed it has forgotten.”

Jane spoke with wounded pride. “I have suffered enough without being judged so harshly by my own sister.”

Elizabeth did not relent. “Hear me, Jane, and hear me well. There will be no invitations to Pemberley or Darcy House for you. Not now. Not after Georgiana marries and moves away. Not ever. And the longer you remain here pretending delicacy in the hopes that Mr Darcy will eventually recognise you to save his friend embarrassment, the more ridiculous you render yourself to those who see the truth.”