Part 13

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The morning passed pleasantly for Jane, who, freed of the burden of concern over her future, had spent an hour dozing and was now sitting before her mirror attempting a new way of styling her hair. She hummed tunelessly to herself, and when a light knock came at her door, beckoned the messenger in without a pause.

"Yes?"

The door opened and Mary slipped in, her plain features folded in a frown which she attempted to conceal with a smile that convinced nobody that she was anything other than concerned.

"Mama asked if you were - if you were quite well, Jane, and I said -"

"You told her I was, I hope?" Jane turned her head one way and then another, admiring her handiwork. This will be perfect for the next assembly. How fortunate that there was time enough for any gossip surrounding her or her future to die away before she would be forced on display before her friends and neighbours. I shall ensure I make a good showing when that happens, she thought, tugging a stray curl into submission.

"I told her I would check." Mary perched on the corner of Jane's bed, smoothing the sheets her sister's morning nap and left ruffled. She cleared her throat as if gathering energy to speak again but it was a long moment before she was able to find the words. "Are you...are you sure you are quite well, Jane?"

"Do I not look it?" Jane smiled, turning on her chair to look over the back of it at her sister. "Mary do not fret. I said I am well and I meant it. Indeed, I feel a good deal better than I did earlier today." Her smile faltered and she abandoned it. "I have made a decision, Mary, and I am satisfied with it. Can you imagine how uncomfortable it was to be torn in two distinct directions by my heart? No, I suppose you cannot." She sighed. Some things would be better confided in certain of her sisters than others. Kitty might understand such confusion. Lydia would not, asserting that to lose one beau is careless but to wilfully abandon two is utter foolishness. Elizabeth...No. Jane frowned. She would not think of Lizzy, for she still could not quite let go the idea that Lizzy was somehow to blame for that morning's predicament.

"But, Mr Bingley -" Mary began, desperately glancing around the room seeking some inspiration. "Colonel Fitzwilliam -"

"They will go on quite happily without me, I am sure." There was a hardness to Jane's voice that she could not quite hide. "Mr Bingley was content enough in London and Colonel Fitzwilliam -" Her heart reproached her for this cavalier dismissal of feelings she could not deny. Her letter would have hurt Colonel Fitzwilliam deeply. No more than marrying him would have. This was a truth, then, and one she was almost ashamed to acknowledge even to herself. If she had married Colonel Fitzwilliam, loving him only a little, she would surely have only disappointed him in time. He deserves better than that, she thought, with a sniff, lifting her gaze to Mary's once more and hurriedly rearranging her features into a smile.

"Let us not speak of it anymore, Mary! I am sure you are quite as sick of thinking about my romantic entanglements as I am."

Mary opened her mouth as if to refute this, but closed it again without a word, nodding and acceding to Jane's request with a silent agreement.

"Is Lizzy back yet?" Jane strove to keep her voice light. She could not help but feel a little stung that Elizabeth had not yet sought to check on her.

"Not yet." Mary looked a little concerned. "I was thinking to walk over to Netherfield Park to check that all is well, only -" She paused, glancing helplessly towards the door.

"You wished to ask my permission?" Jane frowned, the truth of the matter dawning on her. "You wished to see if I would accompany you? Mary, how could you think I should wish to voluntarily place myself in such proximity to Mr Bingley again?"

"I didn't!" Mary began, desperately. "Only, I thought - that is, I wondered -"

"I am not stopping you from making the journey if you wish to." Jane swivelled back around in her seat, fixing a blank gaze on her reflection. She could not help but think this suggestion of Mary's was her quiet approval of Mr Bingley's quest to re-secure Jane's heart and this both surprised and disappointed her. Mary had been her confidant, in Lizzy's absence and Jane had dared to think her usually quiet sister had been the embodiment of neutrality. Had she been mistaken all this time?

"You spent time with Mr Bingley in London, I suppose." She voiced this thought aloud and was unsurprised to hear Mary's whispered yes, miserable and reluctant. Considering this, Jane waited a moment before turning once more to meet her sister's gaze. "I know he can be very charming, Mary, and I confess, to learn that he still cared for me - I -" She coloured, wondering how to explain just what she felt, how she could make Mary understand.

"But you had agreed to marry Colonel Fitzwilliam," Mary said, simply. "Mr Bingley ought to have respected that and not returned."

"No," Jane agreed, but she could not help the wistful feeling that settled in her chest. If Mr Bingley had not returned she would still be happily engaged to Colonel Fitzwilliam, facing a future by his side and Mr Bingley would be nothing but a memory.

I could have that, still, she reminded herself. Colonel Fitzwilliam loved her and he would accept her apology, she was certain of that. She could dismiss her letter that morning as merely a fit of pique, an anxious response to what she had witnessed in the clearing. Jealousy on his part was no more than an acknowledgement of how deeply he cared for her. He will learn to care again for someone else, she told herself, swallowing her regret. He deserves to have someone that cares for none but him. And that is not me. Yet at the same time, she could not throw Colonel Fitzwilliam over altogether and return whole-heartedly to Mr Bingley. He had abandoned her. Had he not got wind of her engagement would he ever have come back to Hertfordshire? For him, she was merely a prize, a possession. She lifted her head. And I deserve better than that.

No, she had made the best of a bad decision. What was it Lizzy had once confided in her? Nothing but the deepest of affections will ever induce me to matrimony. Well, Elizabeth fancied she knew whereof she spoke. I may be angry at her, still, but that does not mean I do not owe her a debt of gratitude for opening my eyes, Jane realised, absent-mindedly tugging her hair free of the curls she had laboured to pin carefully into place.

"You do not care to come with me, then?" Mary ventured at last and Jane started, surprised to realise that her sister was still there and had been watching her the entire time she had been lost in thought.

"To Netherfield?" Jane smiled sadly, more to herself than to Mary. "I think not. But go you, if you wish to. Perhaps Kitty or Lydia will accompany you." She stifled a yawn that was not entirely an affectation. "I think I shall take another nap and then attend to my embroidery awhile. You are sweet to be concerned about me but truly, Mary, you need not worry. I am quite well." She smiled again and this time fancied the expression was convincing. Mary nodded, silently taking her leave.

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