Page 28 of Attempted Compromises
Elizabeth’s stomach tightened as Mrs. Bennet’s voice grew louder, clearly meant to be overheard by anyone passing in the hall. “Mama, I think we should leave Jane to rest.”
After no small amount of urging, Mrs. Bennet eventually left Jane’s room and made her way back down the stairs. To Elizabeth’s horror, however, instead of going out to the carriage, Mrs. Bennet asked a footman to direct her to Mr. Bingley.
Mrs. Bennet ushered her four daughters into the drawing room and Elizabeth groaned internally. Mr. Bingley was seated near the fireplace, conversing politely with Caroline and Louisa. His good-natured expression shifted slightly when Mrs. Bennet entered the room, her presence filling it immediately with bustling energy.
“Ah, Mr. Bingley!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, her voice bright with forced cheerfulness. “How kind it is of you to host my dear Jane during her illness. I must say, it gives me such comfort to know she is under such excellent care.”
Mr. Bingley, ever the gentleman, rose to greet her. “It is no trouble at all, Mrs. Bennet. Miss Bennet is a delightful guest, and we are happy to provide whatever she needs to recover fully.”
Mrs. Bennet’s face lit with satisfaction, and she clasped her hands together as if his words were the highest compliment. “Well, of course, Jane is the sweetest, most obliging creature one could ever meet! Everyone who knows her agrees. And so beautiful, too! Why, I often say that there is no one in all of Hertfordshire who can match her grace and loveliness.”
Caroline Bingley, seated primly on a settee, exchanged a significant glance with her sister. Mr. Bingley smiled faintly as Mrs. Bennet continued her effusive praise and answered amicably. “Miss Bennet is certainly a very fine lady.”
Lydia and Kitty, tired of their mother’s monologue, began to fidget. Lydia, always the boldest, stepped forward. “Mr. Bingley, please tell me you will keep your promise to host a ball here at Netherfield. It would be such fun, don’t you think?”
“Yes, a ball!” Kitty chimed in, her eyes bright. “The ballroom must be wonderful. Have you danced here yet, Mr. Bingley?”
Mr. Bingley laughed, though he looked a bit caught off guard. “I have not had the pleasure yet. I confess, I have been rather preoccupied since arriving. However, a gentleman always keepshis word, and as soon as your sister has recovered, I shall allow you to name the day of the ball.”
Mrs. Bennet clasped her hands to her bosom, her expression eager. “Oh, what a splendid idea! A ball would be delightful—just the thing to raise everyone’s spirits.”
Mr. Bingley, now thoroughly flustered, opened his mouth to respond, but Caroline interjected smoothly, her tone icy. “A ball is quite an undertaking, Mrs. Bennet. And with Miss Bennet’s health still uncertain, perhaps such plans would be premature.”
Mrs. Bennet waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, nonsense, Miss Bingley. Jane will recover quickly, I am sure of it. A young lady in love always does, does she not?”
Elizabeth, who had just entered the room to observe the unfolding scene, felt her cheeks burn. She met Bingley’s embarrassed gaze from across the room and offered him a small, apologetic smile.
Mary, sensing the visit would last for some time, found a chair by the window, sighed and opened her book, muttering something about the frivolity of balls. Her voice was lost amid Lydia’s continued pleas and Kitty’s giggles, already imagining themselves at the center of the festivities.
As Mrs. Bennet carried on, oblivious to the tension she was creating, Elizabeth sank into a chair near the back of the room, wishing, not for the first time, that her family’s exuberance could be tempered. Still, she couldn’t help but admire Bingley’s patience as he navigated the chaos with surprising grace, whatwith Mrs. Bennet taking every opportunity to further extol Jane’s virtues and beauty.
After a tea and half an hour of exclamations and giggles, Mrs. Bennet gathered her daughters to leave. The drawing room seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. Elizabeth was only grateful that Miss Darcy and her brother were not present to witness the spectacle.
Elizabeth pressed her fingers to her temple, silently vowing to herself to speak with Jane about their mother’s conduct once her sister was well enough to laugh about it. She could only hope that her mother’s enthusiasm hadn’t entirely worn out the Bingleys’ goodwill.
∞∞∞
The day passed much as it had before, only Georgiana spent a fair amount of time sitting with Jane and Elizabeth. Caroline and Mrs. Hurst visited for a bit as well, causing no small amount of consternation for Elizabeth. Fortunately, they soon became weary of the sickroom and left to discover other sources of entertainment.
As Jane slept, Elizabeth and Georgiana remained by the bedside, falling into silence without the monologues of Caroline and Mrs. Hurst vying for dominance. The two remaining ladies were quiet for a few moments, with Georgiana’s hands folded neatly in her lap.
Elizabeth watched her for a moment, taking in the younger woman’s quiet demeanor.
“You must find this all terribly dull,” Elizabeth said, breaking the silence.
Georgiana looked up, startled by the address. “Oh, no,” she said quickly, her cheeks coloring. “I only wish to be of help.”
Elizabeth smiled warmly. “You are helping, Miss Darcy. Your presence is most welcome. But surely there are more pleasant ways for you to spend your day?”
Georgiana hesitated, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I do not mind,” she said. “Your sister seems… very kind. I imagine she would do the same for me.”
Elizabeth’s heart softened at the quiet sincerity in Georgiana’s voice. “She would,” Elizabeth agreed. “Jane is the kindest soul I know. But I suspect you are much the same.”
Georgiana’s blush deepened. “I—I am not so certain of that.”
“Then I shall be certain for you,” Elizabeth said, her tone teasing but kind. She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice as though sharing a great secret. “You are quite unlike your brother, you know.”
Georgiana’s eyes widened in alarm. “Do you not like him?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
