Page 70 of The Matchmaker’s Mistake

“Jane.”

“No, I never shall, and you must promise me not to either.” For the first time there was something urgent in her voice. “Think, Lizzy. If I had given him the reason, what would he have done?”

Elizabeth thought. “He would have sworn to change.”

“He would have promised to become someone else. And he would have tried, for he is the most obliging man in England. But he would have been unhappy, which is the very last thing I wish for him. He would have sat at home with me while his heart was at his club or a ball or a dinner, and in five years’ time either I should have made him dull or he should have made me lonely, and we would each have been too kind to say so.”

She drew her thread through, twice. “So I told him only that I wished him well. He could not argue with that.” After a moment, she looked up and held Elizabeth’s gaze. “I know I am right, Lizzy. But I have caused Mr. Bingley pain, and that hurts me as well.”

Elizabeth sat back. She knew that their neighbours in Meryton considered Mary the most accomplished of them and she herself the wittiest. But Jane thought and felt more deeply than all her sisters together. Elizabeth had refused two men in her life. One she had liked, one she could not abide, but neither refusal had cost her a night’s sleep. Jane loved Mr. Bingley, but she had seen that their happiness would only be found in different sorts of lives and had made the decision to end their association. Elizabeth was not at all certain she could have done it.

“It is very brave of you, Jane.”

“I do not feel brave. But I know it was right.”

Elizabeth moved to sit next to her sister. “I am only sorry you felt you had to carry such a burden alone.”

“I needed time to understand what I felt. And then I needed time to decide what to do about it.”

Elizabeth pressed her sister’s hands and let it be. Jane did not want rescuing; she never had. She would simply have to do what she could for Jane now.

“I must write to Mamma,” Jane said.

“Shall I do it?”

“No. If the letter is in my own hand, she cannot claim I was persuaded by anyone here.”

“She will still make the attempt.”

“She may.” There was a gleam in Jane’s eyes now, a small reminder of her dry humour, which surfaced primarily in moments such as these. “You may answer the reply. That will be more difficult.”

“There will be six pages, crossed, and the word Netherfield will appear at least three times on each one,” Elizabeth said.

“Alongside Mr. Bingley’s income, I am sure,” said Jane.

They laughed then, softly and helplessly, grief and relief bound up together. Jane wiped at her eyes, and Elizabeth put a handkerchief into her hand. That made them laugh again, for Jane had always been the one to offer hers first.

The knocker sounded below. Jane’s hand found Elizabeth’s to squeeze it one more time, and then it was over. The maid knocked, then came in bearing the cards of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley.

Jane’s chin rose. “Well,” she said mildly. “I was not expecting they would come.”

Mr. Bingley’s sisters entered with a great show of solemnity and brightly coloured dresses of the finest muslin. Mrs. Hurst curtsied. She then took the chair nearest the fire and arranged her bracelets upon her wrist.

Miss Bingley crossed the room to Jane with both hands extended, her face composed into an expression of tender concern which Elizabeth was certain had been practised in the glass.

“My dear Jane. We came the very moment we could.”

Which was only after, Elizabeth thought, making many visits yesterday to reassure their friends there would be no connexion between their family and the Bennets after all.

Jane did not take Miss Bingley’s hands.

Miss Bingley lowered them. “It was such a shock that I said to Louisa I could hardly credit it—our sweet Jane—and yet here you are, so composed. So brave.”

“It is kind of you to come,” Jane said. “Will you take tea?”

“Tea?” Miss Bingley asked, startled. But she recovered quickly. “Yes of course, if you will not think us troublesome.” She glanced at her sister. “It will allow us time to talk.”

“Indeed,” Mrs. Hurst added.