Eventually, Charlotte looked at her and said the words Elizabeth had been expecting, “You must not think so much about this problem you may have, Lizzie. You must laugh and join with us. You are not already married, and only God knows what will change with a little time. I see you looking downtrodden, and I know why you feel it. But you must remember that nothing is yet agreed upon. You have time, and you must be patient.”
“I do not want to marry him, Charlotte,” Elizabeth whispered softly, struggling with her anger and her sorrow at the same time.
“I know. But you may have to. In the meantime, do not think about it. Unless you wish to think of ways you might be able to keep it from happening. There are all sorts of possibilities for what might happen. You must be patient and quiet until you know what is happening.”
“I don’t want to give them time to make the arrangement without notifying me first.”
“Are you speaking of Mama and Papa and Mr. Collins meeting yesterday?” Jane asked, giving her sister and Charlotte a curious look. Elizabeth nodded.
“I suppose we are. I did not know they met just yesterday.”
“Yes, he came from the parsonage. I heard him in the parlor with Papa and then Mama joined them later. A short time after she went in, Mr. Collins left.”
“Did you hear anything of their conversation?”
Jane raised her eyebrows. “I do not eavesdrop.”
Elizabeth scrunched up her nose. “I do. But that is no never mind to you. I did not ask if you had eavesdropped. I asked if you heard any of their conversation. Even by accident.”
Jane shook her head. “I did not.”
“I heard them saying this morning that Mr. Collins is interested in marrying one of us. And it was my name that was mentioned.”
Jane bit her bottom lip and gave Elizabeth a sympathetic look. “Oh, dear.”
Chapter 3
Elizabeth looked through the upstairs window as a coach pulled up to the front of Longbourn. Her sisters were all in the parlor downstairs, and she would soon join them. The ball was to be held that night, and she was not as anticipatory as usual. She wanted to meet the new arrivals, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, but thought in the long run it would be useless to do so. If she made a connection with either one of them, it would be all for naught. She was certain her parents would make an arrangement with Mr. Collins, if only to save the house from leaving her immediate family. If she was to marry him, he would be obligated to allow her mother and unmarried sisters to remain living there.
That would, of course, mean that they would all have to live with his behavior, which was quite disagreeable by most accounts. That would not be a happy life for any of them, in Elizabeth’s opinion.
She turned away from the window and sighed, walking to the door of her room and passing through. She closed it behind her and started down the steps. Even from where she was, she could hear her sisters talking.
She had to smile. It was Lydia she heard the most, which was usual. Her youngest sister could often be quite loud. She always had a story to tell, which amazed Elizabeth and her other sisters, as Lydia rarely went anywhere without one of them with her. At the moment, she was telling her sisters about an exciting dream she’d had.
Elizabeth opened the door to the parlor and went through, her eyes immediately falling on Lydia, who was acting out what she was saying for her seated sisters. She turned when Elizabeth came in and grinned wide. “Lizzie!” she cried. “I was just telling a story! Sit and listen! It was a dream I had last night about the ball coming up tonight. Oh, it was so much fun. It was almost like I was there, as if it was real life!”
Elizabeth nodded and took a seat near Jane, picking up a sewing basket that was on the floor and lifting it into her lap. She watched as her sister acted out the part of each person she spoke about. When she mentioned dancing with a handsome gentleman, she would hold her arms up in mid-air and pretend someone was there dancing with her. She moved around the room gracefully, singing the song she’d heard in her dream.
She made the whole experience seem like the most wonderful thing in the world. Elizabeth never remembered any balls she had attended that were so fanciful, so full of hope and light. She found a piece of embroidery work she’d almost forgotten she’d started. She took it out of the sewing basket, and found the thread she had been using and a small pair of scissors.
She set the basket back down and began to work on the fabric, glancing up every now and then to acknowledge she was listening to Lydia’s story.
Finally, Lydia dropped herself onto a long couch, throwing one hand over her eyes as though she had exhausted herself. She was breathing somewhat hard, but laughing at the same time. “Oh my, it was magical!”
“You are quite a dreamer, Lydia,” Mary said, lowering her book slightly and looking over it at her younger sister. “I do not believe I have ever had a dream quite like that. And so vivid that you remember it in such great detail.”
Elizabeth wondered if Mary was being sarcastic, implying that Lydia had simply filled in the parts she didn’t remember with something exciting. Lydia moved her hand enough to give Mary a quick glance. “I nearly always dream that way. Why, I have even seen the face of my future husband in my dreams!”
“How do you know that he is your future husband?” Kitty asked.
Lydia sat up abruptly. “I just know! And he is an officer, as well.” She smiled in a satisfied way. “That is why I am anxious to go to Meryton, where the officers are. Perhaps I will see the man from my dreams there!”
Elizabeth and Jane shared a look. Their sister was a whimsical girl. At some point, she would discover that reality was not like her dreams. Elizabeth knew it as a fact all too well. She was facing impending doom herself, simply because reality did not match up with the dreams one might have for oneself.
Forcing herself to avoid thoughts of Mr. Collins Elizabeth tried to perk up, saying, “What do you suppose Mr. Bingley and his sisters will be like?”
“And this man, Mr. Darcy,” Jane added. “I am anxious to meet them all. I have heard such good things.”
Mary laughed softly. “The only good things you have heard is that they are wealthy and handsome.”
Jane nodded. “That may be true, but it does speak to their character that no one has said anything negative about them.”
“They have only just arrived,” Mary pointed out. “We must get to know them before we can know their true character. It is not their wealth or their handsome faces only that one would deal with if one were to be married to them.”
“While that is true,” Kitty pointed out, “I do think they are quite good reasons to give them the benefit of the doubt.”
Mary snorted, shook her head, and went back to her book with a soft smile on her face.
“Well, she is telling the truth, Mary,” Lydia said defensively. “Those are important to a young lady.”
“You might want to reconsider marrying an officer, then,” Jane said. “They rarely have a great deal of money.”
Lydia looked as though she had to think about that for a moment, but then quickly shook her head. “Officers are responsible gentlemen, and they are taken care of. Some of them have personal wealth, as well. And in my dreams, well, I just know my officer is looking for me, just as I am looking for him.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help chuckling at her younger sister. She didn’t remember ever being so excited about the prospect of finding a husband, specifically one who worked in service to the monarchy. From a young age, she dreamed of independence and the ability to choose what happened in her life for herself. She wanted to choose a husband of her own, someone she would be in love with, have a family with, and remain happy all of her life.
Was it too much to ask?
She didn’t think so.
“I believe if anyone has a chance with them, it will be Jane,” Mary spoke up again, lowering her book and giving Jane a smile. “She is the eldest of us, after all.”
Elizabeth agreed,
nodding. “Or it might be you, Mary.”
Mary blushed, and shook her head. “I will not be your competition. I am not ready for such things.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Lydia asked in a shocked voice, as though she expected her sister to have the same views on the subject as she did. “You do not long for a good husband and children?”
Mary narrowed her eyes and gave Lydia a half-smile. “My dear sister, have you not noticed that I am not as keen on going to dances and balls as you?”
Lydia nodded. “I have noticed. And I do not understand.”
“It is simply a matter of difference in opinion,” Elizabeth said, trying to quell the impending debate between her sisters. “There is nothing erroneous about Mary’s thinking nor yours, Lydia. When she is ready, she will know. It is not for us to decide.”
Unless she was chosen to marry Mr. Collins instead, Elizabeth thought. But she knew it was not to be. If Mr. Collins had shown interest in Mary, it would have been her name her parents mentioned a few mornings ago and not Elizabeth’s.
She pushed away the thoughts once more as she pushed the needle through the fabric. It would do her no good to dwell on what could possibly happen but had not happened yet. It would only serve to bring her mood down even further. It was a beautiful spring day, and she did not want to feel down.
“I understand that, Lizzie,” Lydia almost sounded hurt.
“When a gentleman comes along, who shows interest in me, I will consider him,” Mary said. “But I will not allow Mum to parade me around as she does the four of you. I am not ready to find a gentleman.”
“It is not that you are not ready,” Lydia pointed out. “It is that you are shy. You are just shy, Mary.”
Mary blushed, and Lydia laughed.
“You see, you are blushing! You are shy!”
“Lydia, that is enough,” Jane said harshly. “Leave dear Mary alone. As Lizzie said, when it is her time she will know it. You keep your long nose out of it.”
Chapter 4
Elizabeth was seated in a comfortable chair, perched on the edge, her hands folded in her lap. In one hand she held a dark green fabric fan, the same color as her gown. She was pleased with it, and how her hair was piled up on her head, leaving curls to cascade down around her neck, brushing her shoulders softly.
She watched through the crowd as the Bingleys entered the room, followed by the man she presumed to be Fitzwilliam Darcy. What she had heard was correct. He was tall and handsome, dressed in a suit that made him look dashing. The look on his face as he scanned the crowd, however, gave Elizabeth some apprehension. It was as though he was assessing each person without meeting them first. He looked the women up and down with judgmental eyes. Those same eyes were judging the men as well, but he peered only at their faces, scanning with intensity.
By the time he, Mr. Bingley, and the sisters made it to where she was, she was uncertain she wanted to speak with any of them. It was not like her to feel a bit shy, but the feeling reminded her of when she had woken abruptly in bed earlier in the week with dread in her heart and mind.
She pushed away the apprehension and was introduced to the Bingleys and Mr. Darcy by Jane, who had already introduced herself.
“This is my sister, Miss Elizabeth,” Jane said, holding out one hand in Elizabeth’s direction. Elizabeth stood and smiled, holding out her hand so that Mr. Bingley could take it. He did so and placed a gentle kiss on the surface of her glove.
“How do you do, young miss?” Mr. Bingley asked. In Elizabeth’s opinion, he was much more refined than Mr. Darcy, who was still giving her the impression of a snake in the grass, his watchful eyes peering all around him.
“I am well, thank you, Mr. Bingley. And yourself?”
“It is a pleasure to be here,” he replied. “I am enjoying myself already. These are my sisters, and our guest, Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
“How do you do?” Elizabeth asked each of them in turn. She couldn’t help noticing the look Miss Bingley was giving her and Jane. As she chatted with them, she noticed the young woman seemed to look at all the girls in the room with slight disdain. Elizabeth wondered if she was the only one who could see it. No one else seemed to notice, as they treated Miss Bingley as though she was a fine treasure and a delight to be around.
When Mr. Darcy took her hand she felt somewhat strange, as though her hand had warmed up slightly. When he released it she felt a bit cold, and wrapped her hands together to hide the reaction.
The group moved on after only a short chat, leaving Elizabeth behind to sit and watch the dancing. She had declined an invitation to join it, and was enjoying just watching. Jane did not leave with the Bingleys and Mr. Darcy, though her eyes followed them around the room.
Elizabeth noticed and leaned toward Jane, speaking in a low voice. “I see you are fascinated by one of the new gentlemen. Tell me, Jane, which one. You must tell me.”
Jane blushed and hid her mouth behind her hand as she replied to her sister, “I do believe I saw a bit of light in Mr. Bingley’s eyes when he looked at me. And he spoke with such kind gentleness. I have not been spoken to that way by any other gentleman I’ve met.”
Elizabeth gazed across the room to where Mr. Bingley and his group were, as they were introduced to someone new and he bowed with a smile. She wondered if perhaps Mr. Bingley talked to all the ladies in that gentle way.
When he stood up straight from bowing, and turned his head to look back in their direction, Elizabeth averted her eyes. Perhaps there was something to what Jane was talking about. He was looking all the way across the room toward them, and that could only mean that he had not stopped thinking about them since he met them. But who was he looking at?
She looked at Jane, who had lowered her head and was still blushing furiously. Elizabeth was sure Mr. Bingley couldn’t see it, as the lighting was somewhat dim in the room. But he would surely see the hopeful smile on Jane’s lips.
“Oh, Jane,” Elizabeth whispered excitedly. “I do believe he is looking back here toward you.”
Jane giggled uncontrollably.
“I believe, yes, he is coming back over here. Get out your card, Jane; he is going to ask you to dance.”
She saw Jane’s hand clutch her card even harder. Elizabeth heard her breath coming and going a little faster.
“Be calm, sister. He is almost here.”
“I do beg your pardon, Miss Bennet. May I put my name on your card?”
Jane stood up as gracefully as she could and smiled at Mr. Bingley. “Why, yes, that would be lovely.” She handed him the card, giving Elizabeth a quick, happy glance.
Elizabeth smiled, moving her eyes toward Mr. Darcy, wondering if he would ask her for her card since his friend had asked Jane. But Mr. Darcy made no move to do any such thing, so Elizabeth continued to sit with a frozen smile on her face, watching as Jane walked off with Mr. Bingley. She tried not to be expectant, but found she couldn’t help it.
When Mr. Darcy walked past her and stood on the other side of a tall plant, she cleared her throat quietly and swallowed her disappointment. After a few moments she stood up and walked past them, to where Charlotte and her other sisters were standing.
As she passed him, she heard Mr. Darcy’s voice speaking. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he was standing with an older gentleman.
“Surely, there are young ladies here who catch your fancy, Mr. Darcy?” the older man said.
With a sneer, Mr. Darcy replied, “No, I have seen none that strike me in any reasonable way.”
She kept her face forward as she walked, but slowed slightly to hear the older man say, “Look, there is the lovely Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Surely she or one of the Bennet sisters would be an amiable match for you.”
This time, Mr. Darcy let out a snort. It was a sound that angered Elizabeth. Just as she left hearing range, she heard him say, “No. Neither she nor her sisters are worthy of my time. Their family can do nothing for me, and their daughters do not impress me.”
Elizabeth found herself nearly choking on her rage. She had to turn away from Charlotte and her sisters, lest they see her anger and inquire about it. The last thing she wished to do was go into a rage in the sight of everyone present.
She made her way through a crowd of people standing by the glass doors to the veranda, and pushed through them. Her anger was boiling inside her. She detested being judged by how much her father brought to the family, whether they had family wealth or not. And to call her and her sisters plain? It was an outrage. She looked up at the lowering sun and gritted her teeth, forcing herself to accept what had been said with a grain of salt. She did not feel like dancing anymore, not that she had in the first place. She wanted to go home.
She turned to look back through the doors at the people inside. She could see Jane, standing next to Mr. Bingley, smiling up at him. He was smiling back. His sisters and Mr. Hurst, his brother-in-law, were standing with them. They were having what looked like a decent conversation. Mr. Bingley had no judgment in his eye when he looked at Jane.
Elizabeth looked closely at Miss Bingley, and got the same feeling she got from looking at Mr. Darcy. Both were extremely judgmental, and based whether they liked someone on their wealth or their position. If one had neither, like her family, they were not in the same class and would not be treated as if they were.
Elizabeth decided at that moment that she did not care for Miss Bingley, nor did she care at all about the formidable Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Chapter 5
Elizabeth repeated the stinging words she had heard from Mr. Darcy to her sisters later that night as they were preparing for bed.
“Quite a rude thing to say, if you ask me,” Mary said quietly, sounding disappointed even though she had never gotten her expectations up. Elizabeth nodded at her.
“That was my thought, as well.”
“It is a shame that he would behave in such a way,” Kitty said. “He is quite handsome.”
A Convenient Darcy Marriage Page 2
