First Impressions: A Modern Pride and Prejudice Adaptation

Chapter 42

"An annulment?"

Silence.

"If you think that would be—" Silence again. "Fine, but I'd really rather—" The person on the other end cut her off a second time. "Oh no," Mrs. Bennet moaned.

Cat lost her balance and sharply elbowed Liz in her kidney. Liz muffled her squeak of pain but did not shove back. She would save that for later, when they weren't eavesdropping. The three Bennet sisters were desperate to hear the fate of the fifth, but their mother had been too distraught to give any of them much information of consequence. She made no show of hiding her preference for Lydia, her last, sweet baby, and the girl's disappearance had pushed her beyond coherence for most of the day.

The good news: Ever since Mr. Bennet had returned, the Gardiners had been far more open to contacting the family. It seemed as if they had expected him to actually communicate with his wife and children via digital means, a task which he took no joy in performing. As soon as he was safely landed, Mrs. Gardiner began calling the house multiple times a day.

The bad news: Mr. Bennet had kicked his wife out of the bedroom, all but locking the door during the day. While she did return somewhat to a normal routine, that meant more that she waited by the phone like a hawk, ready to pounce on every ring. Liz had feared for her life when she tried to answer once.

She spent her time on the phone, mostly with Mr. Gardiner or Mrs. Gardiner, sometimes Mrs. Philips, sworn to a very shaky secrecy on the matter. Mrs. Bennet's synopses of each conversation left much to be desired, usually ending in tears rather than understanding, but she steadfastly refused to allow them to stay in the room while she talked. She said it made her nervous or that it wasn't polite... Therefore, the only option remaining: eavesdropping. Even less polite, but just as effective.

Mrs. Bennet was downstairs in the hallway. Liz, being the smallest, had curled herself up directly next to the bannister fencing. Cat was just behind her; she had been standing at an angle, one arm draped across the wood. Jane, always the most dignified, was half hanging over the top of the railing. Her long hair draped like a sandy curtain in front of Liz's face. When Cat fell, rather than helping, she stepped out of the way.

Liz filed her desertion away for future reference—and then immediately scratched it out. If anyone should be in trouble, it should be she for not speaking a word of Chip's presence at Pemberley yet. She grimaced as she wondered how long she should, or would, feel guilt for that. If she wasn't careful, Jane could get away with murder.

"How much?" Mrs. Bennet demanded on the phone. She didn't repeat the number, but she made a noise that assured the girls that it was a very, very big number. After a pause long enough for a paragraph, she squawked, "The car?" And, after another pause, "Oh no, no, no..."

The sisters shared a silent exchange. Jane leaned her cheek against the wooden railing as her two younger sisters looked up. Each of their frowns was identical. "What about the car?" Cat hissed.

Liz swatted her into silence.

"No!" Mrs. Bennet cried again, repeating her words again in distress. "I would rather not! And I'm sure Lydia wouldn't—"

Whoever was on the other side of the phone knew Mrs. Bennet well enough to cut her off before she really got going. It had to be their uncle; Auntie Mel was too polite about it.

"It would have been better if you hadn't asked, then." Asked what? All three girls leaned in further, curling against the railing, as if listening harder would grant them understanding of the other side of the phone call.

Jane's sock slipped off the edge of the step. Cat, trying to avoid a kick to the knee, shimmied backwards. She overbalanced and tumbled off the step, falling directly on top of Liz with a cry of, "Oh!" Liz gritted her teeth as she thumped down two steps but didn't make a sound.