Cassandra's Sister by Veronica Bennett Page B

now,” Elizabeth had added pathetically, beginning to weep again. “I have not seen him for so long, I sometimes wonder if I should even hope that he will ever declare his intentions, whether to me or to my father.”
    â€œMeanwhile,” Martha had suggested, “you have other suitors, do you not?”
    â€œOh, yes. There is always the devoted John Harwood. I suppose I had better not absolutely spurn his attentions, because he definitely
will
inherit. Though less, of course, than Mr Heathcote’s elder brother.”
    Jenny had had to rein in her indignation at this guileless cruelty. Kind and pleasant as her friend was, and however much in love with William Heathcote she declared herself to be, Jenny understood that any girl endowed with beauty such as Elizabeth’s liked to count her suitors in units of more than one, and would never marry a penniless man.
    But the thought of meeting Mr Heathcote again worried Jenny nevertheless. No note of apology had ever come. Would he regret his conduct and be embarrassed when he saw her? Or worse, would he simply have forgotten he had ever danced with Miss Austen of Steventon?
    When the snow put paid to the ball Jenny’s nerves settled. But then Edward and Elizabeth invited the sisters for a visit which was to include a week spent with Eliza in London. If Mr Heathcote was indeed acquainted with their cousin he might very well visit her while Henry, whom he also knew, was in London too. After so many months without a word, Jenny might have to meet him again under the scrutiny of Eliza, Cass, Henry and half of London society. Meanwhile, Elizabeth Bigg and her scrupulous father would be many miles away in Hampshire.
    Cassandra knew her sister well. “You must not think they are sending me as chaperone, you know,” she said gently, watching Jenny put the manuscript of
Elinor and Marianne
, which Cassandra still had not been permitted to read, into the bottom of the heaviest trunk. “Our sister-in-law Elizabeth will chaperone both of us.”
    â€œElizabeth will do no such thing,” replied Jenny. “She will not accompany us to Orchard Street, that is for certain. Henry has been recruited for that duty.” She began to rearrange the trunk’s contents, the better to hide the string-bound pile of papers.
    â€œHenry will not object to it,” observed Cass. “You know how much he enjoys going into London society. And Eliza’s house is always full of people ready to admire a young man in uniform.”
    â€œExactly,” said Jenny, with feeling, “yet Mama will not allow me to go there, or even to Godmersham, with Henry alone. Someday you shall be free of me, Cass. Though I shall expect a warm welcome in the household of the Reverend and Mrs Tom Fowle whenever I decide to visit.”
    Cassandra was quiet for a few moments. When she spoke there was strain in her voice. “Do you think I
wish
to be free of you?”
    â€œWhy, Cass!” cried Jenny in dismay, sitting back on her heels. “I only meant that someday you shall be married, and no longer living here. You know no one loves you as well as I do! We shall be the very best of friends for ever!”
    Cass, unable to suppress sudden tears, went into the bedroom and closed the door. Jenny did not follow her; she knew her sister wanted to unravel her thoughts by herself. But it was rare to see Cassandra in distress. Could the length of her engagement, now almost three years, be less bearable than she advertised to the world?
    Jenny wished she had not spoken. Why had she not seen that this visit to Kent would be for Cass a poignant reminder of last September’s visit with Tom? She decided she must make it up to her sister. She had meant it from her heart when she said that no one loved Cass as well as she did; Tom’s was surely a different kind of love. She went to the bedroom door. No sound came from within.
    â€œMay I bring you anything?”