"It is so very sad for Mr. Collins," Jane said in her characteristic empathy for all of God's creatures while Elizabeth's expression soured.
"I should think not. The man deserves no consideration by us," Elizabeth said most harshly and Jane blanched.
When Jane didn’t respond further, Elizabeth realized her harshness had killed the pleasant conversation. For the sake of her kin, she mollified her speech.
“I only meant that after his terrible treatment of me, perhaps it is for the best. My husband said that the tenants began leaving the estate as early as this summer,” Elizabeth attempted again, but this appeared to anger her aunt.
“Lizzie,” Jane admonished, and Elizabeth looked at her sister in complete astonishment. She could not understand what she had said to step a toe out of line this time.
“You are young and idealistic. To you, the world is right or wrong, black or white. But with age comes wisdom, and the realization that one’s reputation takes years to form, and a single bad connection to ruin,” Lynn Phillips chastised her wealthy niece most poetically.
Elizabeth, embarrassed, looked down at the remaining food on her plate, no longer hungry.
“I never meant to harm anyone. I love him, and he is a good man,” she stated, the often-repeated defense Elizabeth had used in her mind and verbally when she needed to justify her disapproving courtship with Mr. Darcy.
“Ah, but that is the point, my dear,” Lynn Phillips said, in a much kinder voice so that Elizabeth looked up. “You and Jane have grown, Jane is a mother. And you will find that part of adulthood is any action you take, any deed you leave undone, has consequences you intend and do not. As I said, the world is not divided into right and wrong.”
Jane beamed appreciatively at their aunt, as the last few months she had come to a new respect for a woman they visited less often than their younger sisters since Aunt Phillips kept her parlor busy. The fracture in the Bennet family had helped Jane learn her aunt was not merely a social busybody, but a very educated and witty woman. As she had not been blessed with children, she had filled her home with laughter and good cheer in another way.
But Elizabeth, without the benefit of Aunt Phillip’s company in isolation of the card games and social dinners, was still unclear. But she attempted to talk her way through.
“So, what you mean is that marrying Mr. Darcy or not marrying Mr. Darcy would have had consequences either way, and we cannot help that?”
Aunt Phillips shook her head. “No, I have not suggested a Determinist’s approach. We have Reason, we must use it. But consider that in doing what's right, even the purest pursuit of good, will have harmful consequences for another. Even if it’s only the person who might have taken your place,” she said, softly.
Elizabeth had much to think about, as her aunt’s words were very provoking. Eager as she was to be back at Pemberley and feel at home, she felt remorseful that she had not spent more time in Aunt Phillips’ company. But then she remembered the resources at her disposal, and Elizabeth smiled.
“I shall not take no for an answer. If Uncle is too busy this season to travel, then please, urge him to plan for spring or summer. And I shall invite the Gardiners, and you, mother, and Uncle Gardiner can be reunited, once more. On holiday!”
Before Aunt Phillips could answer, the parlor door burst open and the younger Bennet daughters and their mother spilled into the room.
“Jane, Jane! You shall never guess who we saw!” Lydia rushed to the side of her eldest sister, greeting Aunt Phillips on her way, and putting her back to Elizabeth.
“I am sure that I cannot guess, so tell me quickly,” Jane humored Lydia.
“The Collins’s! Yes, a fancy carriage rolled through Meryton as we were coming out of the milliners and the window was down. I saw very plainly Charlotte Collins and her husband, our cousin, inside. They didn’t stop, though,” Lydia said thoughtfully, then shrugged her shoulders, “They must be going to Lucas Lodge!”
Elizabeth’s face drained of color and she felt the room begin to spin. She had scarcely closed her eyes than she felt a strong hand steady her elbow.
“Mrs. Darcy?” the brown eyes of her personally assigned footman, Patrick, searched hers for distress.
“Ooh, he is dreamy, Lizzie! La! Why would Mr. Darcy leave behind his handsome footman when he is away, isn’t he afraid--”
“Shut your trap, Lydia Bennet, or so help me I shall shut it for you!” Lynn Phillips startled the niece she most often gave run of her parlor with a set down.
Elizabeth’s throat felt very dry. “Fetch Higgins. I will be fine, Patrick,” she said, then to the larger party, “I have not slept well since Mr. Darcy had to see to our home in London,” she explained.
Jane nodded sympathetically. “And the early weeks can be the hardest,” she started to say, then stopped, but it was too late.
“Early weeks of what?” Mrs. Bennet demanded. “Are you breeding?” she demanded of her second eldest daughter and Elizabeth shivered.
For some reason, even though she knew her and her husband to be perfectly respectable in their marriage, her mother’s vulgar language made Elizabeth doubt herself.
“It is too early to know,” she said, but Mrs. Bennet was not satisfied.
She crossed her arms in a clear rebuke of her daughter’s words. “You expect us to believe you did not lay with Mr. Darcy until this summer when you ran off with him?”
“Mama!” Kitty and Jane said in unison as Lydia and Mary merely watched the verbal sparring.
“Staff in this very house witnessed you share a bed, missy. Your wealth does not excuse you from the Christian standards you were brought up to respect,” Mrs. Bennet hissed the last word as Higgins reached the parlor.
Seeing her maid gave Elizabeth strength; strength to stand up to a woman who had thrown her out of her home less than a year prior.
“You are unloving, unkind, and ignorant of my life from the moment you banished me from Longbourn. I came to offer refuge where I was given none. To offer resources where I was denied. And this is what you think of me?” Elizabeth glared at her mother wishing with all her might she was as tall as her husband and could intimidate them with height as he often did.
Elizabeth reached out a hand for Higgins, who graciously helped her mistress to leave the room. They made it out of the parlor doors before Elizabeth grasped her head with her hands as a great ache tore through her mind. As she crouched to the floor, Higgins waved for Patrick, who had wisely not entered the parlor again but waited in the hall.
“Tell Mr. Darcy I took ill, if you must. But not a word about my mother in your report, please.”
Both servants promised to keep the secret and stayed with Elizabeth until a chamomile draught could be administered and she slumbered in the farthest wing of the home. Her nightmares did return that evening, after taking supper in her room, and it was left to poor Higgins to comfort her.
As Elizabeth spent half the night awake, afraid to go back to sleep and see that beastly man standing over her again, she decided to write a long letter to her Aunt Phillips. She apologized for not seeing her off, and wrote the whole account of her time with Mr. Darcy, leaving very little out. She ended her letter thanking her for the new philosophy to approach life, renewed the invitation to Pemberley more formally, and wished her aunt would not think too lowly of her after they left.
When she went to sign the letter, a funny memory from her childhood flashed in her mind of she and Jane dressed in fine gowns for one of the earliest times she could remember. They were at Aunt Phillips’,enjoying tea, and Elizabeth had loved the strawberry tarts so well, she had smeared some on her lovely new dress. Her mother had been most cross, but not her Aunt Phillips, and Elizabeth recalled her aunt teasing her when she had promised to be good.
“Only if you promise to be berry good, Lizzie, berry, berry good for the rest of the afternoon,” her aunt had said.
So Elizabeth signed her letter.
* * *
&nbs
p; Your Berry Good Niece,
Elizabeth Bennet Darcy
16
Turmoil tore at Darcy’s heart as he received letters from Netherfield Park the morning he planned to leave for Kent. Elizabeth’s letter concerning Dr. Matthews made him laugh as he agreed with his wife’s sentiments. If he had not left Netherfield in such haste, and under great distraction, he had meant to propose a similar solution for Mr. Bennet’s long-term care.
When he opened the report from Patrick, he was less amused. The footman’s penmanship was haphazard, with the lines uneven as the lad had not much practice. And the wording was blunt that Mrs. Bennet had renewed arguing with Mrs. Darcy and the dizzying spells had returned. Thankfully, there was no report of Elizabeth falling again, in a full faint, and for that, Mr. Darcy was thankful as he bit his knuckle reading the worst of his footman’s tale.
Wisely, he had saved the last of Elizabeth’s letters for after reading the footman’s and received a more couched, though truthful, account of her health and well-being with her mother. There was no denial that his absence had permitted Mrs. Bennet to behave bolder in her censure of her least favorite daughter, the one she now blamed for all of their misfortune. Such an assessment prompted Darcy to speak aloud, as though his wife were standing near to him instead of away at Netherfield.
“Oh, her misfortunes have been great, indeed,” he remarked, thinking of how tempting it was to rescind the offer of sanctuary at Pemberley and force that old hag to truly feel the depths of her husband’s poor management.
Instead, he set the letters from his wife aside so they would travel with him, and he reminded himself that Elizabeth was strong, loved her family, and was not without protection. In this spirit, he was able to pen his letter in response to her:
* * *
My Dearest Elizabeth,
* * *
I am vexed on your behalf, my darling, at the inhumane treatment you suffer at the hands of some of your relations. I should like to suggest you replace those misbehaving with some of mine, but I’m afraid I, too, am in short supply of dependable relations.
I am grateful for your warnings about my safety in coming to London. No physical harm has come to me, the mobs were long dispersed and I’m afraid now the only threat to our home in town is the boredom of peace and tranquility. However, your concerns did place in my mind a certain heightened awareness of my surroundings, if only perhaps to prevent ceding the point to you and becoming harmed, that I was able to foil a plot of my enemies in this farce of a mining business setup by Lord Strange. I dare not commit more details to paper, but please know that your husband is well and dearly aches to be at your side.
Unfortunately, there is need for me to call in Kent. I am repulsed and vehemently against spending any amount of time with my aunt Catherine or my sister. But I need to convince Richard to come to London and aid his father.
Have you ever studied the philosophy of war by Sun Tzu? If you have not, there is a copy of his treatises in the library at Pemberley. The tome is in French, but I am certain that will pose no challenge for you.
I am most impressed by your care for the future to invite my Aunt Margaret’s aid in settling your family at our home. You should know, as I was present when she received your invitation, she was already planning to come to your side. Her delight in your letter was a happy moment for me to watch. She can be strong-minded, but I think she will greatly balance the opposition to your mother when your more “peace-at-all-costs” sisters lose their stomach to stand firm.
I cannot wait to hold you in my arms, and tell you all that has transpired here. I aim to make my visit to Kent short and with any luck, should not arrive long behind you and your family in Derbyshire.
* * *
Your Loving Husband,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
* * *
As he sealed the letter, he laughed at his conversation about postal economy with his aunt. Although he could send his letter to Elizabeth through the regular post, he called for a messenger to take the letter in person. With any luck, Elizabeth would use the boy to send a letter back and it would be waiting for him when he was done in Kent.
Giving Mrs. Potter strict instructions to go directly to Lord Matlock for any problems, and to ask that no one reveal he was not at home, but merely unavailable for visitors should anyone ask, Mr. Darcy mounted his steed Alexander back near the stables to meet his carriage over around the corner.
“And Mrs. Potter, do document any and all who seek an audience with me. No matter who it is.”
“Yes, sir,” Mrs. Potter agreed, shivering in the snap of cold October brought in the early morning before the sun had been given a proper chance to have his say.
17
The weather cooperated most admirably on the last afternoon in Hertfordshire for the extended Bennet family. After the disastrous tea with Aunt Phillips ended with such disharmony, Jane and Elizabeth had planned a grand picnic. Invitations were sent to as many of Meryton’s residents as possible who could attend such an event during the crucial harvest months. The previous year, Mr. Bingley had given a ball. And though the neighborhood was loathe to lose such an amiable addition, once married, there was less pain felt in his leaving with his wife and her family.
The Masters who ran the butcher shop closed their doors for the day, and many other merchants joined the grand festivities. Mrs. Long and her nieces came to wish the Bennet family well. Elizabeth sat close to Jane and Mr. Bingley, as well as the Phillips’, with Higgins and Patrick just off to her side. The picnic was awkward without the presence of Mr. Darcy, but the ring on her hand and acceptance by the Phillips’ and Bingleys went a long way in ceasing the wagging tongues regarding her status. Though a few refused to believe in the wondrous good fortune of the runaway Bennet daughter, most of the residents at least wished Elizabeth well.
Still, Mrs. Long kept her nieces and herself at a distance and Elizabeth watched as Lydia and Mary laughed with the Long sisters.
"I bet Pemberley is nothing but a drafty old castle. And Mr. Darcy took Lizzie there and she was so miserable that now she wants all of us to go so that we can suffer like she does!" Lydia earned the collective awe of the Longs while Mary Bennet merely shrugged her shoulders.
But Kitty stood within earshot, utterly appalled her sister could say such things in public. That Mary did not check her was even worse. She politely abandoned her discussion of her paintings with Mr. Masters and his son, Albert, to intercede before her youngest sister embarrassed them all beyond repair.
"Lydia, you have no right to insult the home of Mr. Darcy. He is being so kind to take all of us in. Without him and Mr. Bingley, we would have nothing."
Mary countered her sister with Scripture from the book of Timothy. “But they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition.”
But Kitty paid attention in church as well as Mary, and she continued the verse. “For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows. Yet, I do not witness you here, Mary Bennet, standing stark naked—” Kitty paused as the Long sisters began to giggle at the Bennet sisters arguing.
“So even you appreciate there is a difference between obscene wealth and basic necessities." Kitty, the artist, was not so fantastical in her talents that she could not hold a practical discussion.
"If Mr. Darcy is so very rich, why does he not give away his wealth to the poor?" Lydia inquired, with the Long sisters nodding in agreement to her ridiculous ideas.
"You should be ones to encourage her.” Kitty turned her attack on her sister’s audience. “Of all people who know what it is to rely on someone's charity, you know the future we face is uncertain."
The Long sisters had been brought to Hertfordshire just five years ago when there father was thrown in the debtor's prison and their mother died of fever. Both girls looked sheepishly at t
heir benefactor, the aunt from their mother's side, and hung their heads in shame.
"You’re such a bore, Kitty. You just don’t want to lose your precious paints. Come on Amelia and Henrietta,” Lydia said but her plans were ceased by a large commotion on the other side of the picnic.
Elizabeth and Jane has been discussing the room arrangements at Pemberley, with Jane doing her best to follow along even though she had never been to the home. Mr. Bingley provided support to Elizabeth’s plans, when to everyone’s great surprise, Mrs. Bennet led a party including the Lucases and Mr. Collins to their area.
Mr. Bingley hastily stood, placing himself between his wife and sister Elizabeth, and the incoming party assuming them to be well-wishers.
“Sir William, what a pleasant surprise. I had hoped you would come to see us off. I have enjoyed your hospitality so very often, I’m afraid it will be one home of many that I will miss of Hertfordshire,” Mr. Bingley complimented.
“We do not come to wish you well, we come for satisfaction!” Mr. Collins said, putting his father-in-law in the awkward position of discord upon arrival, a position two affable men like Bingley and Sir William abhorred.
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Collins. I did not see you there, and I’m terribly sorry of your family’s loss,” Mr. Bingley tried to smooth things over while Sir William Lucas struggled to speak.
Elizabeth’s cheeks grew flushed as she experienced an uncontrollable wave of anxiety spread across her body. Jane waved for Higgins, who rushed to Elizabeth’s side, and tended to her mistress. The movement caught the eye of Mrs. Bennet, and she pounced on the opportunity to embarrass Elizabeth.
“Lizzie, will you not greet your cousin, Mr. Collins? Stand and be polite. He is our family!” Mrs. Bennet reached to grab Elizabeth’s arm, who remained frozen in panic upon the blanket spread for the picnic. Patrick jostled for position to protect his mistress, and the unfortunate consequence of Mrs. Bennet and he trying to occupy the same space at the same time knocked Elizabeth’s mother backward.
The Miracles of Marriage Page 9
