“For the most part, very well.” Darcy seemed to consider his words for a moment before further saying, “I do not think they are at all used to being checked on by a gentleman. I do not think Mr. Bennet ever saw to their needs back at Longbourn. They are more accustomed to Elizabeth or her sisters checking on them and trying to cobble a solution together if there is an issue. So, they usually seem uneasy when I arrive.”
Tilting his head, Bingley considered what Darcy had said. “Mr. Bennet couldn’t care less about anyone but himself. It seems as if everything he touched is suffering from his involvement or lack thereof.”
Jane looked around the bookshop for her mother and the rest of her sisters. Kitty and Lydia were still back at their favorite shop looking over ribbons, and she was all too aware that Elizabeth would lose track of time when surrounded by books. Normally, her mother was good at keeping track of the time and their schedule, but it was past time for them to meet up and walk over to the teashop.
Jane had already bought the supplies they needed for the still room. They had been running low on powdered willow bark and ginger, and she was glad they had an ample supply to augment Pemberley’s stores. Jane always felt uneasy if she was running low on willow bark, as it was always needed for spring colds and fevers. As for ginger, it had many uses, even if what she suspected was not the case.
It was a good thing the store was not excessively large, as it would make her wayward family easier to find. She spotted Mary and Georgianna immediately by the window, looking at sheet music. Proceeding around the corner of a row of shelves, Jane went to the back of the shop, thinking she would spot Elizabeth near the works of Shakespeare or animal husbandry. Her sister was indeed a peculiar woman in her tastes.
Her expectation to find Elizabeth left her rather surprised when she came across her mother talking with William’s neighbor, Mr. Hawkins. Not only was her mother chatting happily with the man about who knows what, her eyes were sparkling. In her almost twenty-two years, Jane could not ever remember her mother ever looking like that. As if she was happy and carefree and enjoying a moment in the sun after a long, desolate winter.
Frozen in place, Jane had no idea how to react to what was before her. A gentle tug at her elbow had Jane turning to look at Elizabeth, who gestured to follow her into a nearby alcove. When she deemed them far enough away, her strangled whisper burst forth, “How long has that been going on?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “They have been talking for quite some time. I suspect this is not the first time they have encountered each other.”
Jane struggled to keep her mouth from dropping open in shock. “But Mama is still married. How—” Snapping her mouth shut and tightly pursing her lips, Jane shook her head. She did not even know how to finish that sentence.
Eyes narrowing at her, Elizabeth huffed. “I do not think that is something she has forgotten. She would never behave improperly.” Then, peeking through a gap in the books on the shelf, she watched their mother for a moment. Turning back to Jane, she said, “I cannot begrudge her a friend.”
Jane sighed, understanding for the first time how lonely their mother must be. “No, you are right. Mother would never allow things to progress too far.”
“Besides, William says with the rate our father is falling into drink and disreputable behavior, Mama might not be married for very much longer.”
This was information that Jane had not heard before. When they had fled Longbourn, she had tried to put it and her father out of her mind. Jane leaned closer to her sister and asked, “What do you know?”
Glancing around, Elizabeth made sure they were not going to be overheard before leaning in and whispering, “William has had people watching father; he wants to be aware if he tries to cause problems for us.” Elizabeth waited for Jane to show her understanding before continuing, her voice low and almost hesitant. “Father has gone bankrupt and was recently forced to leave Longbourn. He has had to search for employment, but you and I both know that he is too insolent and lazy to hold any worthwhile position. His lodgings are in a very seedy part of town, and William has learned that he has offended several people who do not like to be crossed. Between his drinking and his behavior, I truly doubt our father is long for this world.”
Jane knew she must look odd, with her eyes wide and her mouth in a startled ‘o,’ but she could barely wrangle her mind into a rational pattern of thought. How should she feel about that information? She believed a dutiful daughter would feel sorrow knowing that her father was suffering, but Jane could not find it in herself to do so. Too many years of his cruelty, not only towards herself but the mother and sisters whom she loved, had eroded any feeling of compassion she might have had for him. Was it at all correct to be feeling relief that she might be able to put her father behind her once and for all? Would she finally feel liberated when he was gone? Or was it possible that it was too late, and her experiences had already made her who she was, for better or worse?
Elizabeth reached out and squeezed Jane’s hand, offering her sister silent support. Eventually, she asked, “Did you get everything you needed from the various shops?”
Nodding her head, Jane managed to bring her mind out of her ponderings. “Yes, though Kitty and Lydia are both still admiring all the ribbons.”
“Then let us gather everyone and walk to the teashop. I think we could both do with a cup.” Linking arms with Jane as they had often done when they were younger, Elizabeth called out to her mother, saying that they were going to the teashop.
Jane let her sisters’ chatter wash over her as she walked down the stairs on the way down to dinner. The trip into town had been the highlight of Kitty and Lydia’s week, and while Mary and Georgianna were less effusive of their joy, they still spoke softly about practicing their duet after dinner. Though she was happy that her sisters were happy, Jane was still disturbed by what she had learned of her father’s situation.
She knew that people often thought she was often too forgiving of others. Jane made a conscious effort to see the best in people, striving to forgive their mistakes and accept their flaws. There was, however, a line past which she found it hard to forgive. When someone hurt the people she cared for, Jane reacted as harshly as it was in her ability to do so. Thankfully, she had encountered very few people who were foolish enough to hurt those closest to her. Her father, however, was at the top of her list of those people.
Jane struggled with forgiveness when it came to him. She was displeased with the negative emotions of anger and animosity that had accumulated within her in regard to her father. It was one of the reasons she forgave so freely; she did not like carrying that weight in her heart. The news that a person she knew had fallen on hard times would normally tug at her heartstrings, instantly prompting her to find a way to go to their aid. With her father, it was another story.
She had tried to forget about him as much as possible and had been fairly successful. Focusing on rebuilding her life away from Longbourn had helped. Watching her sisters and even her mother bloom as they adapted to living at Pemberley had helped even more. Seeing their happiness had led to her own happiness and just when she was growing content and comfortable in her new home, her father had crept back into her life.
She absolutely hated the fear that settled into her veins simply upon hearing about him. She hated the way he made her feel, and she hated him, and more than that, she hated that he had pushed her as far as hatred.
Despite all those feelings rolling through her like a turbulent ocean, Jane put a small smile on her face and averted her eyes from her sisters’ gazes. She did not want to worry them about her discontent. Jane knew that she would find a way to work through it all. She always did. That is what she told herself. But then, as she came to the bottom of the stairs, she was greeted by Mr. Bingley.
He had let her sisters pass him up and waited for her with his arm extended. “Miss Bennet, you look beautiful tonight.”
Jane could literally feel her ire rising. She detested that word when it was applied to herself. Babies were beautiful, her sisters were beautiful, and anything that Kitty created was beautiful, but she hated to hear people say that she was beautiful. She was so much more than her appearance. She had thought Mr. Bingley might appreciate her for herself and not merely for her outer appearance.
Flashing him a smile that she knew did not reach her eyes, Jane accepted his escort, but did not say a word. She was already in a bad mood and was struggling to maintain her happy veneer. As if she didn't have enough to contend with, his unfortunate statement added to the weight she carried in her ongoing struggle to appear serene.
Bingley hated to admit it, but he was frustrated. Most people might believe that he was always cheerful and sociable and, for the most part, he was, or at least he tried to be. That did not prevent him from sometimes wanting to think and, even at times, brood. At that moment, he was leaning towards brooding. Sitting alone in his guest room, staring at the flickering flames in the fireplace, Bingley wondered where he had gone wrong.
He had been at Pemberley for over a week, and he thought his pursuit of Jane had been going well. Though maybe pursuit was not the correct word, but he did not exactly know what word suited better. He had been trying to prove to her that he was worthy of her trust, and to show her he loved her. Maybe even demonstrate to her he would treat her well and she would be safe in his care. Bingley strongly suspected that with a father like hers, she must be terrified of becoming linked to a man unworthy of her love.
Though Jane had gone with him into the dining room, she had said not a word. Bingley knew her smile was just the facade she wore when she did not want to show her genuine emotions. His Jane never frowned, not outright, but her eyes were shadowed, and when she looked at him, they had seemed cold.
He thought it had been working. Jane had seemed truly happy with his attention. Somehow, it had all been upset, and he did not know how or why. What could he have done to receive such a cold shoulder at dinner? Was it something he had said or done?
Bingley restrained the desire to find a hard surface that he could bang his head against. Instead, he forced himself to think back to the moment when he realized things were going wrong. Jane had been coming down the stairs, and he noticed she did not look quite herself. He had thought that he might perk her up by offering a compliment. That was the exact moment when things had started to go downhill.
All he had said was that she looked beautiful. Most woman wanted to be called beautiful. Was it possible that Jane did not? He knew it was something she probably heard a lot. Her beauty was the first thing people noticed when she was in London. He could not go five feet without other men singing odes to her classic beauty. All their talk was one of the reasons he had not wanted to spend more time in London. He could not abide watching all the superficial gentlemen fawn over her.
Was it possible that she had not liked it any more than he did? Was that the reason why she left London so early? Should he apologize for calling her beautiful? It was not a lie, nor was it an insult, but it was becoming clear that she might feel it was.
He would have to refrain from calling attention to her physical beauty. Indeed, she possessed many other qualities that he valued. Sighing, he rested his head in his hand. This evening had definitely been a setback, but there was always tomorrow.
Chapter Six
Lydia knocked on her sister’s door but did not wait for her answer to enter. There were benefits to being the youngest of a group of sisters—she found she managed to get away with quite a lot. Not that she ever truly tried to misbehave, she just tested the boundaries of what her sisters found acceptable. What did it matter if she went into their rooms uninvited or borrowed bonnets without asking? She was the baby. Everyone loved her.
