last night.” Both young women giggled. Elizabeth continued, “I feared for her life at one point, but after Mr. Bingley asked you for a second set, Mama calmed down considerably.”
More giggles ensued until suddenly Jane sobered. She looked wistfully into the distance. “Lizzy, I have a secret.” She glanced to her sister who was listening attentively. “Lately I have begun to imagine what it would be like to be married.”
“To Mr. Bingley, of course!” Elizabeth declared making Jane blush.
“Yes. He is everything a gentleman should be… sensible, good-humoured—”
“Handsome, conveniently rich—”
“You know perfectly well, that I do not believe marriage should be based on wealth.”
Elizabeth’s smile vanished as she said cynically, “I agree wholeheartedly. I will marry only for the deepest love. And I shall never again be fooled by a handsome face or pretty words!”
Jane reached to take one of her hands. “I am so sorry, Lizzy. I forgot about your Mr. Darcy. I would not have mentioned it had—”
Elizabeth interrupted, shaking her head vigorously. “Nonsense! In the first place, he was never my Mr. Darcy, and in the second, I have completely forgotten everything about him. If I met him today, I doubt I would remember what he looked like. We would meet as just indifferent acquaintances.”
Jane studied Elizabeth’s smile, but was not convinced. “Lizzy, you do not have to pretend with me. I know that you cared for him.”
Elizabeth pulled her hand from Jane’s and stood, moving to stare out into the gardens from their bedroom window. She wrapped her arms around her waist. Jane was about to say more when Lizzy offered, “Then let me pretend that it is true until it is so.”
“Oh, Lizzy,” Jane began but was instantly interrupted as Elizabeth hurried back to the bed to pull her to her feet.
“Come. No more talk of my folly. We shall look through the closet to find something for you to wear to impress the Bingleys. I am sure there is still time to add some ribbon or lace to please Mama.”
Jane lowered her voice in warning. “Lizzy!”
In unison the sisters collapsed on the bed giggling.
~~~*~~~
Later that evening when Jane was in another room helping Kitty with her embroidery, Elizabeth reached under her mattress to retrieve the book that Mr. Grant had delivered to the house whilst she was bedridden. Though she had coveted it for months before its arrival at the bookshop, she had secreted it away because it reminded her of him —of their meeting in the bookshop and the fact that he quit Meryton without a word of goodbye. But three weeks had passed, and Elizabeth was determined to let go of the hurt that accompanied his memory. So she crawled onto the bed, piled a few pillows behind her head and reached for the tome.
As she lifted the book, however, a folded paper fell into her lap. Picking it up, she immediately realised that it was a letter written in a woman’s script. The recipient of the letter made her startle—Fitzwilliam Darcy. She blinked continuously until it dawned on her what must have happened. Mr. Darcy must have purchased the book intending to give it to her and then had Mr. Grant deliver it after he was called away. Her heart soared. Curiosity got the better of her as she eagerly opened the missive and began to read.
Dearest Fitzwilliam,
Our dear Georgiana is doing so much better in Bath. The change of atmosphere has been like a tonic, and her disposition improves every day. But as it has been several weeks, she longs to see you again. No one can take your place in her heart, and that is the way it should be.
We shall be back in London before the end of the month, and naturally she expects you to be waiting with a present from your trip to Netherfield. How you spoil her! We shall travel to Ramsgate next, but there should be ample time for you to be together in the weeks before we leave.
God bless you until we meet again,
Audrey
More giggles ensued until suddenly Jane sobered. She looked wistfully into the distance. “Lizzy, I have a secret.” She glanced to her sister who was listening attentively. “Lately I have begun to imagine what it would be like to be married.”
“To Mr. Bingley, of course!” Elizabeth declared making Jane blush.
“Yes. He is everything a gentleman should be… sensible, good-humoured—”
“Handsome, conveniently rich—”
“You know perfectly well, that I do not believe marriage should be based on wealth.”
Elizabeth’s smile vanished as she said cynically, “I agree wholeheartedly. I will marry only for the deepest love. And I shall never again be fooled by a handsome face or pretty words!”
Jane reached to take one of her hands. “I am so sorry, Lizzy. I forgot about your Mr. Darcy. I would not have mentioned it had—”
Elizabeth interrupted, shaking her head vigorously. “Nonsense! In the first place, he was never my Mr. Darcy, and in the second, I have completely forgotten everything about him. If I met him today, I doubt I would remember what he looked like. We would meet as just indifferent acquaintances.”
Jane studied Elizabeth’s smile, but was not convinced. “Lizzy, you do not have to pretend with me. I know that you cared for him.”
Elizabeth pulled her hand from Jane’s and stood, moving to stare out into the gardens from their bedroom window. She wrapped her arms around her waist. Jane was about to say more when Lizzy offered, “Then let me pretend that it is true until it is so.”
“Oh, Lizzy,” Jane began but was instantly interrupted as Elizabeth hurried back to the bed to pull her to her feet.
“Come. No more talk of my folly. We shall look through the closet to find something for you to wear to impress the Bingleys. I am sure there is still time to add some ribbon or lace to please Mama.”
Jane lowered her voice in warning. “Lizzy!”
In unison the sisters collapsed on the bed giggling.
~~~*~~~
Later that evening when Jane was in another room helping Kitty with her embroidery, Elizabeth reached under her mattress to retrieve the book that Mr. Grant had delivered to the house whilst she was bedridden. Though she had coveted it for months before its arrival at the bookshop, she had secreted it away because it reminded her of him —of their meeting in the bookshop and the fact that he quit Meryton without a word of goodbye. But three weeks had passed, and Elizabeth was determined to let go of the hurt that accompanied his memory. So she crawled onto the bed, piled a few pillows behind her head and reached for the tome.
As she lifted the book, however, a folded paper fell into her lap. Picking it up, she immediately realised that it was a letter written in a woman’s script. The recipient of the letter made her startle—Fitzwilliam Darcy. She blinked continuously until it dawned on her what must have happened. Mr. Darcy must have purchased the book intending to give it to her and then had Mr. Grant deliver it after he was called away. Her heart soared. Curiosity got the better of her as she eagerly opened the missive and began to read.
Dearest Fitzwilliam,
Our dear Georgiana is doing so much better in Bath. The change of atmosphere has been like a tonic, and her disposition improves every day. But as it has been several weeks, she longs to see you again. No one can take your place in her heart, and that is the way it should be.
We shall be back in London before the end of the month, and naturally she expects you to be waiting with a present from your trip to Netherfield. How you spoil her! We shall travel to Ramsgate next, but there should be ample time for you to be together in the weeks before we leave.
God bless you until we meet again,
Audrey
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