Page 132 of What Change Entails

Georgiana nodded, though a small knot formed in her throat. “Yes.”

Lydia’s expression softened in a rare, fleeting way. “He acted dreadfully sad when we first arrived.”

Georgiana folded her hands together. “Since Kent, I think.”

“Because of Lizzy.”

“I believe so.”

“When he proposes, she will not refuse him.” Lydia leaned back in the comfortable chair, looking like the cat that got the cream.

Georgiana raised her head quickly. “You think not?”

“Certainly not. She likes him now. She tries to hide it, but Lizzy is much worse at hiding things than she thinks. Jane hides feeling. Lizzy hides feeling and then makes a speech about why she has none.”

Georgiana considered this and found, to her surprise, that it sounded plausible. “Is Miss Bennet truly so reserved?”

“Jane? Oh yes. Sweetly reserved. Too reserved. It caused all sorts of misery last autumn with Mr. Bingley.”

Georgiana straightened slightly. “Mr. Bingley?”

Lydia’s foot stopped swinging. “You do not know?”

“I know he leased Netherfield. I know he invited my brother. And from what he says, I am aware that he admired your neighborhood.”

“Admired it! Mr. Bingley admired Jane. He danced with her first, spoke with her constantly, and could scarcely keep his attention from her. He became foolish whenever she entered a room, and called at Longbourn so often Mama nearly expired from expectation?”

Georgiana’s brows drew together. “Then what happened?”

Lydia shrugged. “He went to London and never came back.”

“That seems unlike him.”

“It was unlike him. Jane said nothing against him, of course, because Jane would excuse a person who stepped on her foot and then blame her shoe.” Lydia picked at a loose thread upon her sleeve. “But she was heartbroken.”

Georgiana’s stomach clenched uncomfortably. “I am very sorry.”

Lydia shrugged, then appeared cross with herself for doing it. “I did not pay much attention at the time. I thought Jane too mild to be interesting, and I cared more about officers than sorrow. But she was. Heartbroken, I mean. Lizzy was furious.”

“Did Mr. Bingley know?”

“How should he? He was in London being managed by sisters.”

Georgiana did not answer.

Miss Bingley’s voice lingered in her memory: soft corrections, affectionate claims, delicate warnings about proper society. Mrs. Hurst too, with languid certainty and elegant dismissal. If they had wished Mr. Bingley to forget Miss Bennet, they would not have needed cruelty. Their methods were made of smaller things.

“I would not be surprised,” Georgiana said slowly, “if Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst encouraged him to leave.”

Lydia slapped one hand against the arm of the chair. “I knew it.”

“You cannot prove it from what I said.”

“I do not require proof. I have instincts.” She examined her fingers in the candlelight.

“Your instincts once involved paying a boy to splash Miss Bingley with mud.” Georgiana had found guilty delight in witnessing the ensuing chaos.

“And they were excellent.”