An Unexpected Ally

Part 29

Jane woke early. She was not sure what time she had eventually succumbed to sleep, and the tray she had requested to take her evening meal on - to avoid the scrutiny of her sisters and parents - lay untouched in one corner of her room. She rubbed her eyes, blinking in the hazy near-dark, and fumbled to dress and descend downstairs in search of a cup of tea. That would make everything right again, she knew.

Longbourn was quiet. Even the servants moved so quietly as to avoid disturbing the rest of the house and Jane slipped unnoticed into the parlour, standing as close as she dared to the fireplace to absorb any warmth she could from the meagre coals that smoked there. Almost without meaning it, her eyes strayed to an ostentatious bunch of flowers perched on a side-table and she knew without needing to be told that these were the flowers Charles Bingley had sent. She frowned, recalling the letter Lizzy had slipped under her door. She had read it through, somehow committing it to memory, and she recalled it as she ran a finger over the wide petals of a rose that looked too perfect to be real.

He still loves me. The thought ought to have cheered her, made her heart lift. Instead, it made her stomach sink to the very floor. Once, she would have given anything to receive flowers like this from Charles Bingley, and could never have imagined the note that accompanied them. But they had come too late. He had returned too late. She had found love with someone else. And I am happy with my decision.

However often she repeated this fact to herself she still struggled to believe it. Was it possible that her feelings could change so swiftly and so completely? How well did she know Colonel Fitzwilliam?

And do you know Charles Bingley any better? She grew annoyed with herself, lamenting her indecision. If only she could be like Lizzy, who was so forthright in her opinions, entirely well-acquainted with her own mind.

"Jane?"

It was as if thinking of her sister had summoned her from the shadows, for with a whisper and a smile, Lizzy tiptoed into the parlour, crossing the room quickly to join Jane before the feeble fire.

"Did I wake you?" Jane asked, dully. She snatched her hand away from the flowers, hoping her sister had not noticed her fixation with them. "I tried to be quiet."

"You were a ghost!" Lizzy said, shivering a little and hunching so close to the fire that she almost stepped on it. "But you know me. I am perennially early to rise."

"Then you will prefer privacy," Jane wagered, tugging her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders. "I won't disturb you."

"You don't!" Lizzy hissed, grabbing a tight hold of Jane's arm and bidding her stay where she was. "And you needn't leave. I have been aching to speak to you and now, at last, we have an opportunity." She peered past Jane towards Mr Bingley's flowers. "You must tell me what is on your mind, dearest Jane. I can only imagine how conflicted you must feel."

"Can you?" Jane's voice still sounded so flat and unlike its usual self that she grimaced, wishing she was better at concealing her true feelings. "I scarcely know how I feel."

Lizzy nodded, biting her lip.

"Then you still care..."

"I don't know!" Jane's response was louder than she meant it to be, and she shot a wary glance to the ceiling, but the rest of the house remained mercifully still, silent and sleeping and undisturbed by her outburst. Taking care to moderate her tone to a whisper, she turned back to Elizabeth. "It does not matter, anyway. I have consented to marry Colonel Fitzwilliam. I will marry Colonel Fitzwilliam."

"And you...love Colonel Fitzwilliam?" Lizzy ventured, evidently hoping for an answer in the affirmative that Jane found herself strangely unable to give.

"This is all Darcy's fault!" Lizzy's eyes darkened malevolently, and Jane's despair turned to confusion.

"How...?"

"He summoned Bingley back here! I know it is his doing. He sought to separate you from Charles Bingley in the first instance and now he seeks to part you from his cousin. He is a villain, a scoundrel, a -"

"But I thought you cared for him?" Jane shook her head. "You cannot mean half the things you say. Of course Mr Darcy is not to blame for this. Lizzy, this is nobody's fault. It is an accident of fate, and one we must live with. I have made my decision and I -"

Her voice trailed off. I do not regret it, she might have said. I am happy with it. Neither seemed entirely true.

"I will abide by it."

It was strangely formal and entirely unpersuasive if the uncomfortable set of Elizabeth's lips was anything to judge by. In the shadows, her hand found Jane's and squeezed, tightly, a silent show of sisterly encouragement.

"He is a good man," Lizzy said, loyal to the last. "Colonel Fitzwilliam is a good man and a kind one. He adores you." She swallowed. "And he would never allow the opinions of his friends to sway him from his heart's desire."

There. Lizzy had cast her lot in with Richard's and made her stance perfectly clear. She would support her sister in marrying him and oppose any attempt to separate them. She is placing herself in opposition to Charles Bingley, then. Jane drew a breath. And, if her suspicion about him is right, she opposes Mr Darcy too. Her heart sank, fearing that, whatever decision she made, it was not merely her future that hung in the balance, but Lizzy's too.

"I'm hungry," Elizabeth announced, seeking to distract Jane from her concerns if she could not allay them completely. "Let's take some breakfast. Everything will look a little brighter after some food and drink."

Jane did not object, allowing her sister to lead her to the breakfast room as gently as if she was a child. If only she could surrender her will entirely to Elizabeth, allow her sister to make greater decisions than merely what to eat and drink. How easy life would be!

She frowned, thinking that there was a way she could do just that. She paused, as they reached the table, tugging Lizzy to a stop and forcing her to look at her.

"Do you prefer Colonel Fitzwilliam?" she asked, desperately. "Do you think I make the right decision in marrying him?"

Lizzy did not answer straight away, and Jane watched the shadows that danced across her features carefully, trying to deduce their true meaning before at last, Lizzy spoke, quietly and confidently and with all the certainty Jane lacked.

"I think you will know the right decision if you look to your heart. This is not something that mere logic can decide for you. Since when has love ever been logical?"

Jane nodded, her heart sinking further to the ground. If only love was logic. If only she could make a decision and not regret it, or second-guess it, or have it complicated by other people.

I do care for Richard Fitzwilliam. He is so kind, so pleasant and amiable and good. And I know he cares for me. But...I fear I do not love him. Not the way that I love Charles Bingley. Oh! Whatever shall I do?