“That is unnecessary, Charles,” Miss Bingley said hurriedly. “We shall walk the Miss Bennets out.”
“Nonsense, Caroline,” Mr. Bingley said. “You and Louisa have put yourselves out quite enough this morning. Stay where you are, for I would have a word with you both upon my return.”
Mr. Bingley evidently had more firmness of character than she had believed, and Elizabeth was pleased to see it. She stood and made her farewells. Then she followed Jane into the hall, allowing her sister and Mr. Bingley to walk ahead.
When they arrived at the carriage, Mr. Bingley handed Elizabeth up, but lingered a moment to speak with Jane. She watched from the window as her sister blushed deeply and nodded her head. When Jane held out her hand to be assisted up into the carriage, Mr. Bingley lifted it to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of her hand.
Elizabeth gasped and sat back. They had not had much time together, but apparently, they had made good use of it.
“Jane,” she said, as the carriage pulled away from Netherfield, “have you any news for me?”
Jane sighed. “He has asked to speak with Papa, and I have agreed. But Lizzy, it will cause such difficulty with his sisters. They are at times witty, clever, even pleasing. But today they made it very clear that they do not prefer me for their brother.”
“They see your brother likes you more with every meeting.”
“I dislike what I felt compelled to say today, but really, they went too far. I was grateful for Mr. Bingley stepping in and putting an end to the visit.” Jane patted Elizabeth’s hand. “And your rousing defence of Mama was inspiring, Lizzy. I know you were not always in charity with her.”
“That is true,” Elizabeth agreed. “But then, so was everything I said about her. I would like to believe that we would have eventually come to more peaceful terms as I grew older.”
“You would have,” Jane assured her. “No one who knows you can think anything wanting.”
“Even though I dared the villainous mud when there must have been a man around who would not mind dirtying his hands?” Elizabeth exclaimed.
Jane snorted a little and her hand flew up to her mouth. “Stop it, Lizzy,” she said affectionately. “You nearly made me laugh aloud in Miss Bingley’s drawing room, and I should never have heard the end of it.”
“So you do intend to be in her company in future?” Elizabeth inquired. “Does that mean you intend to accept Mr. Bingley?”
Slowly, Jane nodded. “I am not to be frightened away by a few callous statements. The drawing rooms of London shall be no better. I truly care for Mr. Bingley, Lizzy. If this is the price I must pay to have him, I shall do it and always believe that I have made a good bargain.”
Elizabeth embraced her sister. “Well done. And if you are ever at a loss for words, you need only think of what your wisest sister would say.”
“Do you mean Mary?” Jane asked teasingly.
Elizabeth blinked and then replied, “Of course!”
They were still chuckling about that when they arrived home.
“Where have you been?” Darcy asked, curious. They had returned to Longbourn some hours ago, but when Darcy changed out of his riding clothes, he could not locate either Bennet or Fitzwilliam.
Bennet had since returned to the house, sporting bruised knuckles and a jaunty air.
“Nowhere. I went for a ride,” Fitzwilliam replied.
His cousin had been on unexplained rides several times in the past week or so. Darcy hoped he was finding his way over to Lucas Lodge.
“Is that what I think it is?” Fitzwilliam asked abruptly, motioning to the bottle on Bennet’s desk.
“That depends,” Bennet said. “If you think it is a bottle of Courvoisier cognac, then yes.”
“That is a very expensive gift. Who sent it?” Fitzwilliam asked.
“It is unpatriotic.” Darcy crossed his arms over his chest.
“It might have been purchased during the peace,” Fitzwilliam insisted.
“I know not when it was purchased,” Bennet said, “but it was delivered whilst we were visiting Mrs. Hobart’s shop in Meryton on Monday last. Until Darcy asked about it, I had not even noticed it here. I was not expecting a package.” He frowned. “I do not know who would send me such a gift knowing my former profession as so many here do.”
“Perhaps it is from Colonel Forster,” Fitzwilliam suggested merrily.