Page 24 of A Most Beloved Sister
“But you didn’t hear what she was saying!” cried Elizabeth. “After her awful comments at dinner about Jane’s uniqueness and the goodness of the Darcys to pay attention to us, she then began to hint at how fortunate Mama’s death would be for us, and Jane’s! When we only just learned about Jane—”
Elizabeth’s voice broke on the last word, and she could speak no further. Tears poured down her face, and she looked pleadingly at her father. To her astonishment, his eyes were wet as well.
“How could anyone think that Jane’s death would be anything but a tragedy?” she finished in a whisper.
“This is why I never liked London,” Mr. Bennet said with a heavy sigh. “I know your mother has begged me to take all of you, and I usually blame the expense and the noise. But in all reality, it’s about avoiding the egotists and braggarts that make up theton. The people that make thebeau mondeare anything but beautiful, for all their finery.”
“They’re horrible,” Elizabeth said fiercely. “Miss Bingley’s soul is full of avarice and selfishness.”
“Not all of them are wicked, my dear. We must judge them each on their merits, of course, just as we would expect them to do for us. You would not wish to be lumped with Lydia, for example.”
Elizabeth managed a small, rueful smile. “No, I suppose not.”
“But you must be cautious, my girl, that, in their darkness and your interactions with it, it does not pollute your own light. It is a choice, you see. Miss Bingley’s nastiness does not mean you can be rude and disrespectful in turn.”
Elizabeth hung her head. “I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t even mean what I said. You know I don’t care anything for social status! I just wanted to hurt her as much as she hurt me.”
“Well, I daresay it’s your first time experiencing such cruelty firsthand, and from someone your own age. For all your mother boasts of dining with four and twenty families, your circle of acquaintances is quite limited. They’re people you’ve known your entire life, and that makes it easier to accept their comments with grace. You know to not take your aunt Phillips seriously when she comments about your beauty compared to Jane’s, or when Charlotte Lucas rolls her eyes at Lydia’s behavior.”
“You’re saying that by knowing their character, I’m able to better dismiss their words?”
“Precisely. These new ladies are sharing their first impressions of what they see, and you therefore feel it more deeply when they aren’t pleased.”
She nodded slowly. “I think I understand. Thank you, Papa. I promise to do better next time; it won’t take me as much by surprise.”
He gently patted her shoulder. “You’re a good girl, Lizzy. I hope you’ll also understand why I will be requiring you to apologize to Miss Bingley tomorrow.”
Sighing deeply, Elizabeth acquiesced. “As much as I hate to let her have the satisfaction of me humbling myself, I would much rather prove my good breeding. I won’t let her influence me in that way.”
∞∞∞
While Charles paced her chambers in the family wing, Caroline did her best to ignore her brother’s reprimand.
“Caroline, your behavior was deplorable this evening!” he exclaimed. “I still cannot believe what you said to Miss Elizabeth. If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears…”
Sitting on a comfortable chair in front of her vanity and mirror, she focused her attention on watching the maid brush her hair out. She hardly listened to her brother’s words, being intent on counting to make sure the lazy girl did the full one hundred strokes.
How she missed her French maid, Marie! She had been quite the miracle worker and more than happy serving a stylish mistress. Marie was well accustomed to her mistress’s exacting standards and understood the gravity of the situation. Miss Bingley had a reputation to uphold—and a certain gentleman from Derbyshire to entice—and her beauty was her most potent weapon.
If only the stupid girl hadn’t had the audacity to fall in love and marry; there was no way Miss Bingley could have a lady’s maid who was too big with child to serve her.
As she absentmindedly counted the strokes, her gaze wandered over her elegantly appointed vanity, where a splendid golden-framed mirror reflected her image in all its glory.
Miss Bingley’s beauty routine was an intricate dance of creams, balms, and elixirs, each product carefully selected from the finest apothecaries in London. The fragrance of lavender and rosewater filled the air as she applied a bespoke lotion to her delicate hands in preparation for bed. The scent was delicate and alluring, a siren’s call to any gentleman who dared come near.
“Did you hear me, Caroline?”
Her brother’s demanding voice interrupted her musings, and she realized that he had finished his tirade. “Nonsense, Charles,” Miss Bingley drawled, having no idea what he had been speaking about, but correctly assuming it concerned the same topic of Miss Elizabeth’s pert opinions. “It was all a simple misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?” Bingley’s voice cracked on the last word.
“Yes, a misunderstanding. The foolish girl took offense where none was meant, I assure you. I only wished to cheer the girl up, and she took what I said completely out of context.”
Bingley frowned doubtfully at his sister. “Let’s just say for a moment that I believe you. You should have spoken with more care to her. She just discovered that her sister is going to die, and your words were thoughtless.”
“Well, how was I to know that she would be so sensitive? She seems quite arrogant most of the time.”
Bingley sighed and rubbed his temples. “Be that as it may, it does not excuse the fact that your behavior was left wanting. I expect you to apologize tomorrow.”
