Page 36 of Companions of Their Youth
Their teasing continued while they made their way back to Longbourn. As they approached the side entrance to the house, Mark and Elizabeth were met not by the quiet calm of homecoming, but by the shriek of the drawing room door flying open and two high-pitched voices tumbling into the hall.
“Mark! Lizzy! You will never guess—”
“No, I am going to tell them—Kitty always talks too slow—”
“Because you always interrupt me, and no one can make sense of it when you say it—”
Lydia and Kitty came rushing into the passage from the drawing room, their cheeks pink and eyes shining with excitement. Kitty’s fine hair was pinned back with care, though wisps had come loose in the chaos. She coughed into her handkerchief once or twice, a dainty habit that had become somewhat frequent of late.
Lydia, on the other hand, had no such concern for decorum—her dark braids bobbed wildly with her steps, and her dress, a touch too short for her figure, revealed a length of ankle that would have caused the Meryton matrons to whisper had the girl beenoutin society instead of still in the schoolroom with a governess.
Of course, there was no such governess; at least, not any longer. Once Mark went to school at age eighteen, the governess left Longbourn, going on to another family in the kingdom with a glowing reference. This left Lydia and Kitty to the attentions of their two older sisters, who had joined Mark in his lessons.
Elizabeth blinked in astonishment at the contrast between the youngest two Bennet daughters, as she always did when she saw them together. They could not have been more opposite—Kitty, though older, was trim and narrow of frame, soft-spoken when allowed to be, while Lydia had grown into a womanly figure, all energy and opinion. Elizabeth sometimes found herself wondering which features were from their fathers’ lines and which their mother’s.
“Girls—” Elizabeth attempted to
“It’s no use, Lizzy; they are both quite mad,” Mark said with a grin.
Kitty opened her mouth to speak again, but Lydia cut in with a shout. “It has beenlet! Netherfield is let at last!”
“Mrs. Bennet’s voice floated in from the drawing room in a tone of weary command. “Girls, remember my nerves. This much chaos will overset them entirely.”
Lydia and Kitty froze, then turned and went back in with their mother. Mark and Elizabeth exchanged an amused glance and stepped fully into the room. Mrs. Bennet was seated in her usual armchair by the hearth, her embroidery discarded in her lap, her hands over her ears. Her expression was pinched, but not deeply distressed—an experienced general overseeing an unruly army rather than a woman in the throes of collapse. Jane sat at her side, bemused.
“Now, Kitty,” Mrs. Bennet said, lowering her arms before folding them again. “You were speaking first. Lydia, you must wait your turn and share anything your sister may forget.”
Kitty drew herself up, eager for the chance to speak. “We were calling on Aunt Philips, and Mr. Philips came home from his chambers while we were there. He said that Netherfield has been let—at last!”
Mrs. Bennet clapped her hands together, visibly restraining a squeal. “Is it true? Oh, my dears—Netherfield! Who has taken it?”
Elizabeth smiled faintly. She knew this would be the talk of the house for days to come.
Kitty continued, though another small cough interrupted her speech. “A Mr. Bingley, recently from the north. He is very young—not yet thirty—and very wealthy. Mr. Philips was one of the attorneys who drew up the lease, so he knows all the details.”
Lydia, bouncing on her heels, could bear it no longer. “And he is single, Mama! Handsome, rich, and unmarried!”
“And what else does one require?” Elizabeth murmured, causing Mark to smirk and Jane to give her a reproving glance.
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes shone with excitement, her face alight in a way that was nearly childlike. “Well, this is the best news I have had since—oh, since Kitty cut off her fever last spring! My dear girls, this is splendid indeed.”
“But he has not yet settled,” Kitty added quickly. “Only his housekeeper and cook have been seen in the village.”
“Uncle Phillips says he is expected to return to London today, now that the papers have been signed,” Lydia chimed in. “But he will return with a large party next week.”
Mrs. Bennet gave a dramatic sigh and pressed a hand to her bosom. “Then we must be ready. Everything must be spotless. I shall have to speak with Hill, and you must each purchase a new gown. Well, not Lydia or Mark.”
She turned to the twins. “You must both be presentable when he comes to call. Elizabeth, do not go tramping through the fields every day now—your hem is always stained with grass. And Mark, be sure your best coat is brushed. One never knows what connections a man of fortune may bring.”
Elizabeth arched a brow. “He has not even arrived yet, Mama.”
“Well,someonemust marry him, and I would prefer it be one ofmydaughters, and not those awful Lucas girls,” Mrs. Bennet said firmly. “And he may be in attendance at the Meryton assembly, so there is no harm in being prepared.”
Mark grinned at Elizabeth, who sighed heavily but said nothing.I wonder if one of the men we saw riding—the ones that Mark says he knows—is this Mr. Bingley? But if so, then who is the other man?
As the conversation turned to gowns and hair ribbons, Elizabeth caught Mark’s eye again. With a tilt of her head, she gestured toward the door, and together they slipped out, the chaos of Netherfield and matrimony still echoing behind them.
“I have missed this house,” Mark said fondly. “It is chaotic—but it is home.”
