Page 131

When Jane was encouraged to sit on the settee, Lizzy settled beside her to stroke her back as her sister stifled a few sniffs.

“I managed to have a few private words with Cherise before I got in the carriage. I told her that she should not feel constrained to refuse Mr Bingley on my part if he should offer for her and that I wished them well. Do you know what she said?”

“What, dear?” asked Mrs Gardiner, stroking Jane’s hand.

“She said she would not have him; that I had opened her eyes to his true character! She says he is very handsome and amiable, but she wants to marry someone reliable—like her father!”

Having unburdened herself, Jane broke into full sobs, which Mrs Gardiner judged could only be remedied by camomile tea. When it arrived, she thought it time to damp Jane’s self-indulgent emotions.

“Well, those are wise words for a young girl. She is a credit to you, my dear,” said Mrs Gardiner, trying to soothe Jane’s wounded soul.

The tea was indeed helpful. After Jane had finished her first cup, Mrs Gardiner deemed it time to update her eldest niece on the latest news.

“Well, Jane, perhaps the cloud has a silver lining. With Mary being creditably established, you will not need to seek another position. Your uncle and I would be very happy if you stayed here with us in London.”

“Thank you, Aunt! Though your spare room is much smaller than our bedchamber at Longbourn, Lizzy and I can share if we sleep head to toe until your other boarder leaves.”

When Mrs Gardiner’s raising of one eyebrow at Lizzy did not prompt her niece to speak, she plunged on herself: “I expect you are wondering at the outcome of Mr Darcy’s interview with your uncle last week?”

“Oh, yes,” replied Jane, who had puzzled over Mr Darcy’s unexpected visit for the entire trip back to the Garths’ residence on Sunday before it had completely vanished from her mind upon seeing the Garth children. “Was he so generous as to offer some money for Lizzy’s dowry or did his call relate to her abrupt departure?”

“I think I will let Lizzy explain,” Mrs Gardiner said mischievously when a second glance at her younger niece still failed to elicit a response.

Sending a reproachful glance at her aunt, Lizzy realised it would be best to get on with it without circumlocution. The rehearsed speeches she had mulled over for the past week to soothe Jane’s sensibilities were promptly abandoned.

“Mr Darcy asked me to marry him, Jane.”

“Marriage? Oh Lizzy! And what did you say?”

“I said yes.”

When Jane looked at her sister with incredulity, Mrs Gardiner peered into the top of the teapot instead. “This brew needs refreshing,” she said, getting to her feet. “I will be right back!”

As soon as the door had closed behind her aunt, Jane burst out: “Oh, Lizzy, are you sure? He is blind and infirm, and have you not always hated him?”

“I find I understand him more every day. I would not call him an amiable person like Mr Bingley. He reminds me somewhat of our father—a bit selfish and inclined to irritability, but with such learning and abilities that I have come to admire him. I have always thought him handsome, and I do not find that greatly altered by his illness. The single dance I enjoyed with him at Netherfield will likely never be repeated, but I do not think my happiness hinges on that. Moreover, by knowing him better, I have discovered his more amiable qualities. He is really quite a gentle soul. I believe his affection for his sister shows him capable of the deepest attachment. I think I would like to be married to him very well.”

To Elizabeth’s relief, Jane did not break down in the same manner as she had upon hearing of Mary’s good fortune, though Lizzy knew that the marriage of a second sister must be another blow to her elder sister. But Jane was still unable to speak for some minutes, staring abstractedly at the draperies, mastering her emotions. The sisters had not exchanged another word when Mrs Gardiner returned to the room with the teapot.

“So! Would you like another cup my dear?” asked Mrs Gardiner. “It is lovely that you will be able to attend the ceremony. Have you decided what you will wear?”

“Oh!” said Jane, recovering herself. “I have several new silk dresses from my time with the Garths. Though very plain, I was careful to choose nice styles. I think they could be furbished up quite nicely. Have you set a date?”

Seeing Lizzy was discomfited, Mrs Gardiner decided to finally come to her niece’s relief. “It is to be as early as tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!” Jane exclaimed, her cheeks lighting up with a red flush. “What is the rush?” And then, before her sister could frame an answer: “Lizzy, did you withhold something from me when you told me of your... contretemps with Mr Darcy?”

Lizzy flushed but sought quickly to dispel this notion; uncomfortably aware she had not revealed her altercation with Mr Darcy to her aunt. “Be assured it was nothing of the sort, Jane. Mr Darcy requires his uncle’s approval if he marries before the age of thirty. He is keen to tie the knot lest his uncle changes his mind.”

“But why should he do that?”

“Merely because his relatives had hoped for a better match for him—among the nobility.”

Tea was again required to restore Jane’s equanimity. To Lizzy’s relief, her aunt, for once, did not follow up on Jane’s indiscretion. Once tea had been taken, Mrs Gardiner suggested they all decide on what they would wear to the ceremony before strolling out to the florist to add a bouquet for Jane to their order. Thus were the initial discomforts of Jane’s sensibilities soothed.

Meanwhile, back in Grosvenor Square, Brunhilda’s long-awaited engagement party went off as well as could be expected. As it turned out, the sympathetic Archbishop was quite happy to tear up the old licence and did not charge Richard for the new one. He said he would put it about that it had all been a silly mistake on his part. The engagement cake with Robert and Brunhilda’s names intertwined in royal icing had also been remediated by the simple medium of overlaying another disc of icing in the same style. That only left all the invitations to the Ton, both to the engagement party and the subsequent wedding, which clearly stated ‘Lord Robert Stanley to Princess Brunhilda von Wolfbach’. Rather than resend the wedding invitations, the countess merely apologised to the surprised guests at the engagement party, explaining she had made a teeny mistake, which had been compounded by the printer. Both of her sons’ names started with ‘R’ you know. It was so confusing!

Of course, nobody believed a word of it, but since Richard was almost universally better liked than his brother, they were all quite happy to go along with the fiction, adopting the earl’s narrative of the love story, which was true enough from Richard’s and Brunhilda’s points of view. It hardly needs to be mentioned that Robert did not attend the engagement party.