Page 38 of Honor Requires

Mr. Bennet regarded her. “Very well.”

Mrs. Bennet stopped short. “Very well?”

“I have already made arrangements,” he said. “We shall take a house in Town for some months after Christmas.”

Mrs. Bennet stared at him. “Mr. Bennet! You cannot be serious!”

“I am entirely so.”

A moment later, she burst into delighted exclamations. “My dear Mr. Bennet! How good you are! How thoughtful! Oh, we shall do so very well in Town—Jane will have every opportunity—and Lizzy, too—though she must take greater care with her complexion—Mrs. Hill! Mrs. Hill!”

She hurried from the room, calling instructions before she had even formed them.

Mr. Bennet watched her go, then turned his attention to Elizabeth. “My dear Lizzy, will you come to my study?”

Elizabeth followed him.

When the door closed behind them, his expression altered—losing its habitual lightness. “You have not been well,” he said.

Elizabeth hesitated only a moment. Then she told him everything.

He listened without interruption, his expression intent, though there was a gravity in his manner that spoke of deeper feeling.

When she had finished, he sighed.

“I am sorry for it,” he said. “Truly.”

Elizabeth said nothing.

“But you must not suppose this the end of all things,” he cajoled. “A lady likes to be crossed in love now and then. It gives her something to think of—and to boast of later.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “This is not that.”

“No?”

“No.”

He studied her a moment longer. “Time will do what it always does.”

“Perhaps,” she said. But she did not believe it. She rose then and left him, her composure intact though her heart remained unchanged.

Plans were soon made. Their departure was fixed for the days following Christmas, but before Twelfth Night, when society in Town would begin in earnest. Mr. Bennet spoke of an old acquaintance from Cambridge—Sir Walter Barton—who had offered to introduce them within his circle, a prospect which sent Mrs. Bennet into renewed raptures.

“I shall come as well,” she declared at once. “I cannot allow such an opportunity to pass without proper oversight.”

“My dear,” Mr. Bennet replied, “your oversight is very well established here. The younger girls require your guidance, and I cannot leave Longbourn entirely to chance.”

Mrs. Bennet hesitated. “The household—”

“Would suffer without you,” he said gravely. “And I could not answer for the consequences.”

The argument, so framed, could not easily be resisted.

She relented—though not without repeated assurances that she would follow as soon as circumstances permitted. With promises of gifts from Bond Street shops, Mrs. Bennet agreed to stay in Hertfordshire.

Christmas came. It passed in its usual manner—festive, noisy, filled with small pleasures and family expectations. Elizabeth participated as she must, offering smiles where required, engaging where necessary, though always with a distance that none but Jane fully perceived.

On Christmas morning, Jane sought her out. “I have something for you,” she said, her expression warm.