Page 12 of To Love And To Cherish
Mrs. F. Bennet
Elizabeth had read the letter in silence, then handed it to her aunt without a word.
“Do not trouble yourself over this, my dear,” Mrs. Gardiner said firmly. “Your mother has overstepped.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Jane refused him. I’m glad.”
That night, Elizabeth curled up in her bed and wept until she fell asleep. She missed her papa; he was the dearest person in the world to her. She longed for their conversations, for the comfort of asking him the burning questions that always seemed to stir in her mind. And she missed her sisters.
It was so quiet at the Gardiners’ house. Too quiet. She sniffed and blew her nose. At least she was able to visit with the children at the orphanage; their laughter never failed to lift her spirits, and they were a constant reminder of how fortunate she was to have the Gardiners on her side.
Chapter 7: Concessions
June 12, 1807
The carriage rattled up the drive to Longbourn beneath a sky heavy with the promise of summer heat. Elizabeth sat straight-backed within, gloved hands folded neatly in her lap, her eyes fixed on the familiar hedgerows lining the road home. She had not set foot in Longbourn in over a year, not since her mother had sent her away. Now, unexpectedly, she had been summoned back.
What Elizabeth did not know was that the summons had not originated from her father, but from her mother’s pressing insistence.
“You must write to Elizabeth at once,” Mrs. Bennet declared one morning over breakfast, her tone brisk and impatient. “The neighbors are beginning to talk.”
Mr. Bennet looked up from his paper, one brow arched. “Are they indeed? And what scandal have they invented this time?”
“They say nothing aloud yet. But I have heard whispers at the haberdasher’s, and Mrs. Long gave me a look yesterday that I did not care for. If Elizabeth is not brought back, people will begin to suspect the worst.”
He set down his teacup with a sigh. “The worst, you say? Such as?”
Mrs. Bennet’s voice dropped to a whisper. “They’ll think we sent her away because she was with child! Or had done something disgraceful. It is all very well for you to sit there in your studywhile our daughters’ reputations are torn to shreds, but I shall not be party to it!”
Mr. Bennet gave her a long, bemused look. “You are proposing, then, that I recall our second daughter to Longbourn, not because you regret sending her away, but because Meryton’s imagination requires pacifying?”
“I never said I regretted it,” she snapped. “I only said we must bring her back. Let the neighbors see that nothing is amiss.”
He leaned back in his chair, considering. “You do realize, madam, that if I write to her, she will believe the invitation sincere.”
Mrs. Bennet sniffed. “That is your concern, not mine. I shall not give her the distinction of a welcome. Jane and I will be out making calls when she arrives. Let her return without fuss or fanfare. I feel no particular regard for her.”
“And yet you expect her to live under your roof again.”
“She need not hang about me. You will keep her in your study, as you did before, teaching her languages. What good came of that, except to make her vain and proud of her accomplishment? You need to teach her to manage the ledgers and accounts. That is all she is good for. An obstinate, headstrong girl like her will never attract a husband. What man of sense would take a viper to his bosom?”
Mr. Bennet stared at his wife a moment, then gave a small, sardonic smile. “Very well. I shall write to Lizzy. But let us not pretend this is anything but what it is, a bit of theatre to preserve appearances.”
“Call it what you like,” Mrs. Bennet said with a wave of her hand. “But see it done quickly. I won’t have the entire village thinking we’re hiding a ruined girl in some distant relation’s attic.”
Though he believed her fears exaggerated, Mr. Bennet was not entirely unmoved. He had five unmarried daughters and reputations to protect. More than that, he missed Lizzy dearly. If this summons, however poorly motivated, could bring her home, he would not let the opportunity slip away.
And perhaps, he thought quietly, his wife was softening toward Elizabeth at last.
“Very well,” he said aloud. “I shall write to Elizabeth and to Edward today and inform them that my carriage will arrive for her on Friday.”
What Mr. Bennet did not know, and never suspected, was that his wife’s true motive lay elsewhere entirely.
Let him think it was to quell gossip,Mrs. Bennet thought with a smirk.He swallowed that nonsense as easily as he always does. She snorted. As if I were acting from motherly concern.
Her eyes narrowed. Always so high and mighty, that one. Thinks she’s better than her own mother and sisters. Smarter. Well, we shall see just how clever she is when I marry her off to the heir of Longbourn.
Papa opened the carriage door and extended his hand to help her down. As Elizabeth’s feet touched the gravel, she was immediately gathered into the arms of her sisters. Mary and Kitty had rushed from the house, their faces bright with emotion. Mr. Bennet followed at a slower pace, his expression guarded.
