Page 68 of Her Whole Heart
"Jane?” she asked softly as they hurried through the rest of the building. “Are you well?”
“I do not know, Lizzy. Please do not ask me, not here.”
“To speak so openly in the museum—that was awful,” Amelia said in a hushed tone. She glanced over her shoulder. “Even Laramie thinks so, do you not, Laramie?”
Laramie did not speak, but Elizabeth thought the man’s dour expression made his sentiments clear.
They reached the front hall, where they had agreed to wait for the rest of their party and perhaps join them for tea. After another quarter of an hour, the Bingleys and Hursts arrived.
“Shall we continue on to tea, Miss Bennet?” Mr. Bingley asked cheerfully.
“I fear I am rather fatigued after our visit, Mr. Bingley,” Jane said firmly. “We shall return to Carlisle House, if we may.”
Mr. Bingley’s expression denoted his disappointment, but he was gallant, assisting Jane up into the carriage and offering the same for Elizabethand Amelia. He stood on the pavement after his own party had entered their coach and touched his hand to the brim of his hat as they departed.
“Perhaps he struggles to assert himself against his sisters,” Amelia said hopefully. “They are rather difficult to manage, I suspect.”
“But that in itself is a problem,” Jane said gently. “I cannot marry a man who is not in control of his household.” She shared a knowing glance with Elizabeth. Neither of them would ever marry a man like their father, who was only strong when it benefited him to be.
“You need a man who will support you even in the face of his family’s objections,” Elizabeth agreed. She placed a hand atop Jane’s where it rested on the seat between them.
“That is true,” Amelia said. “You deserve a man of character and conviction.” She met Elizabeth’s gaze. “We all do.”
Jane nodded but did not speak. She looked out the window, pensive—and for once, Elizabeth did not know what to say.
Chapter Twenty-One
The day after their excursion to the museum, Elizabeth picked up her sewing from the work basket and moved to a corner of the quiet back parlour of Carlisle House. Jane sat across from Mr. Bingley, her hands folded in her lap and her expression solemn. Mr. Bingley, for his part, appeared anxious and confused, one deep line furrowing near the bridge of his nose.
“Miss Bennet,” he began, his voice earnest, “have I done something to offend you? If so, I apologise most sincerely and beg your forgiveness.”
“No, Mr. Bingley, you have not offended me. But after our visit to the museum, I must ask what role your sisters play in your life.”
“My sisters?” he inquired, flummoxed.
“Yes. Miss Bingley in particular, as she is unmarried.”
“Well . . . they are my sisters. Caroline will likely live with me once I purchase an estate, which I hope to do in the next year or two. That is, if she does not wed first, but she has set her sights too high, and I fear will wait until the man she would like to wed has married someone else. She has no chance with him but will not admit it.”
“Forgive me, Mr. Bingley, but I now have two additional questions. My first is to inquire why would Miss Bingley live with you and not her sister?”
“I am responsible for her.”
“I see. And does she expect to be your hostess?”
Mr. Bingley chuckled. “I dare say she does, but she will see that cannot be. If I marry, my wife will be mistress.”
Jane’s voice sounded hopeful. “You will speak to your sister about her role?”
“She will not listen,” Mr. Bingley said, “but I will make the attempt.”
“I see.”
“You said you had two questions.”
“Yes. The second is why would you allow Miss Bingley to waste her time waiting for a man to wed another before setting her on a better course to her own happiness?”
“Caroline has always gone her own way, Miss Bennet. I try to make her happy, but it is an impossible task. You will see as you learn more about her. Sometimes it is just easier to allow her to go on as she will.”
