An Unlikely Acquaintance

Part 29

Longbourn had grown so accustomed to Colonel Fitzwilliam's frequent calls - ostensibly on Mr Bennet, but actually upon the whole household - that rarely a day passed when his name was not on the lips of one or other of the sisters.

"Will Colonel Fitzwilliam call today?" Lydia asked one afternoon. She was stretched out on the settee in the parlour, intermittently kicking Kitty, who was already hunched into a corner of the chair, unwilling to surrender it completely but equally unwilling to fight her sister for greater occupancy.

"I don't know," Jane mused aloud, bending over her embroidery to better view it in the pale morning light.

Elizabeth chuckled from the window seat she occupied for reading and Jane's cheeks warmed.

"Of course he will!" Lizzy continued, sliding off her seat and crossing the room to peer over Jane's shoulder. She clucked approvingly at the pretty needlework before frowning at Kitty, who let out a general squeal and at last surrendered the last few inches of the settee to Lydia, irritably selecting a different chair and complaining under her breath at being so repeatedly ill-used.

"Barely a day passes now that he does not call, or write..." These last two words were murmured in a sly whisper, designed to reach only Jane's ears. She miscalculated, however, and Lydia sat up suddenly.

"Write? He writes to you?"

Her eyes were fixed on Jane, her lip quivering in excitement at the notion of some piece of delicious gossip. Jane, who had confided in Lizzy about one letter and rather wished she had not, for all the significance her sister had read into it, shook her head. She abandoned her embroidery, knowing she would not be allowed to concentrate it now that her sisters' curiosity had been so thoroughly piqued.

"He wrote me a letter once, but it is not what you think!" she hurried out, cautioning Lydia to remain still and quiet, for her youngest sister showed a distinct inclination to run out and declare to the whole house that a romance was being conducted beneath their very noses. "It was merely concerning some information I asked him about."

"Romantic information?" Kitty wheedled, with a sly grin at Lydia. The two were friends again when gossip was at stake. Jane groaned, swallowing her annoyance and the persistent smile that would forever creep onto her face whenever the notion of Colonel Fitzwilliam and romance were linked, either by word or thought.

"It was nothing," she insisted. "And Papa is quite aware, I am sure. It is not some secret assignation." She had no evidence at all that her father knew of the friendship that had developed between her and Richard. Mr Bennet knew that they tended to walk together, or take tea, whenever he chanced to call at Longbourn and he had remarked more than once about how much they seemed to have in common. This had been swiftly dismissed by Jane, who failed to see how she could be considered to have anything at all in common with a handsome, brave colonel. Mr Bennet had let the matter drop but Jane had been conscious of his eyes resting on her at strange moments when he did not think she would notice, and she wondered just what thoughts were skipping through her father's mind.

Mama had been less transparent, at first eagerly welcoming, then vehemently opposing, and at last reluctantly tolerating Colonel Fitzwilliam's regular visits. He had charmed her as he had charmed them all, Jane supposed, for it was a skill that seemed to be innate with him.

How unlike his cousin he is! She had voiced this thought to Lizzy, shortly after the letter confession, but Elizabeth had changed the subject almost immediately and Jane thought better of mentioning the absent Mr Darcy again.

There was a scuffle in the corridor, and the girls were given just enough time to stand, to smooth skirts and curls and affix smiles to their face before the door to the parlour opened and Colonel Fitzwilliam himself strode in.

"What ho, Bennets!" His gaze swept the room, offering a bright smile to every occupant which seemed to soften as it rested, at last, on Jane. "Good afternoon, Miss Bennet." He seemed to recall, then, that he had not come without an offering and he thrust forward a small posy of flowers that Jane took with delight, ignoring the whispered giggles between Lydia and Kitty.

"Won't you sit down?" she asked, ushering him into the most comfortable chair in the parlour.

"I came to see Mr Bennet." Their eyes met momentarily, before darting away again. "Yet his study is empty."

"Yes." Jane bit her lip. "He is out. Mama is at home, although she is upstairs. She has a headache."

"Oh! I am sorry." Colonel Fitzwilliam's expression fell as if he was truly sympathetic, unaware that this was a circumstance that befell Mrs Bennet with surprising regularity. She was more often with headache than without, for she deployed the tactic whenever she felt especially delicate. Today, she had been rewarded with bedside vigils from each of her daughters in turn and would doubtless be treated to sweets procured by Mr Bennet on his visit to Meryton, so it seemed unlikely she would let the habit go.

"What a shame!" Lydia sang, her voice teasing. "You have travelled all this way to see Papa and he is out! Well, you must make do with us instead. How disappointed you must be!"

"Quite the contrary, Miss Lydia," Colonel Fitzwilliam replied, matching her tone and smile, for he knew her well enough to be able to play her tolerably at her own game. "Although you must make do with me and as I have been confined to barracks of late I am afraid I have very little in the way of conversation. Fortunately, you are a better source of news than almost any in Meryton."

Lydia blushed at this, for praise was praise, even if it sounded like teasing.

"You are quite right," she said, regally. "I am. Well, Kitty, what do you think? Shall we ask the colonel about the state of things at the barracks? I imagine you have all been working monstrously hard for we have seen neither hide nor hair of Denny or Wickham in all these long days." She sighed. "It is so disappointing to walk to Meryton and not see a single soul one knows!"

"I should think that unlikely," Lizzy put in, her tone of voice betraying her eagerness to keep Lydia in her place. "Considering you know so many people, many of whom are not tied in any way to the regiment." She smiled, sweetly, but Jane knew her well enough to detect the steel beneath the sweetness. "Did not you say just yesterday that you had spent a charming quarter-hour with Maria Lucas?"

Lydia's scowl darkened when Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed, but the warm sound of it made Jane's smile grow. She liked this comfortable companionship that had grown up between him and them, for he seemed to appreciate her entire family in a way Mr Bingley never quite had. Her smile dulled, for it still seemed impossible to her to think of Mr Bingley, however fleetingly, and not feel a little sadness or disappointment for all the dreams she had once thought they shared. I was mistaken. Mr Bingley had gone to London and quite forgotten her. He had never once acknowledged her letters, for she had addressed them to his sister and now it seemed as if Caroline, like her brother, had cheerfully cut all ties with Hertfordshire, with Longbourn, with Jane...

"Jane?"

She flinched, realising that all eyes were fixed on her, eagerly awaiting her response to some question she had completely missed being asked.

"Ah, I think perhaps Miss Bennet would prefer to remain indoors, comfortably surrounded by her sisters. I suppose I cannot blame her for that. I am sure, if I possessed such charming relations I should wish to do the same."

Colonel Fitzwilliam was teasing again, his voice warm and gentle and not at all cruel. This kind of teasing belied an acquaintance that was deeper than any they ought to have possessed, for despite his frequent calls to Londbourn it had still been mere weeks since their first meeting. Yet now, as Jane's gaze met his, she felt the centring calm that she had known, and been known, by him her whole life. She blinked, the charming sisters fading from her notice for a moment until Lizzy cleared her throat and repeated the colonel's question.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam wondered if you were equal to a short turn about the terrace, as has been your habit of late."

Although Jane's back was to her, she could hear the smile in Elizabeth's voice.

"I am sure your ankle is quite healed now, andyou were just saying to me at breakfast that you wished for a little fresh airtoday, weren't you?"