by Sophia King
“I cannot leave just now, Darcy,” he said. “I think you know I wish to stay here to be near Miss Bennet. I had…I had thought to ask her to marry me.”
Darcy was relieved Bingley had made such a declaration. Now at least, they could speak plainly.
“Before you do so, have you thought very carefully about whether you should?” he asked. “Are you sure of your own feelings for her? I have seen you in love many times before, you know. Miss Bennet is very pretty but I should not have thought this lady any different to the others.”
Bingley looked up indignantly. “You could not be more wrong,” he exclaimed with heat. “She is utterly different to any of the others. I do not like to even remember them. She eclipses them all. She is my angel, and I will never be happy without her.”
“You have felt so before,” said Darcy calmly.
Bingley shook his head. “Not like this,” he said. “And I have spent much time with her when she stayed here. I love her, Darcy. It is my greatest wish to marry her. I want to spend every day with the woman I love more than anything else in the world.”
“It is an admirable ambition,” said Darcy. “But does she feel the same way?”
Bingley looked up sharply. “What on earth do you mean?” His eyes were vulnerable and Darcy felt a pang at the pain he would cause. But it had to be done. He ploughed ahead.
“I have paid most particular attention to how Miss Bennet receives you,” he said. “And I am sorry to say, I do not see any particular regard in her countenance. I believe she likes you well enough, but I also think her mother is pushing her to catch a wealthy man.”
Bingley looked away again, his shoulders tense as if to guard himself against Darcy’s words. “I do not care,” he said stubbornly.
“Don’t you?” Darcy’s voice was cool. “Then you are a different man to I, Charles. I could not give my heart to a woman, knowing she only saw me as a source of wealth for her family.”
Bingley’s eyes flashed with uncharacteristic anger. “You do her an injustice!” he cried.
Darcy nodded as if he had merely made an interesting observation. “I do not mean to say she is a fortune hunter,” he said. “I would not speak so ill of her. But she may feel an obligation to her family to see they are provided for. She may be forced by family duty to marry where her heart does not lie. It would be perfectly natural for her to do so. But could you live that way? Knowing she married you because she felt compelled to?”
Bingley’s shoulders slumped as if the fight had gone out of him. He stared into the fire in silence for a long time before speaking again. “No, he whispered quietly. “I could not bear it. I could not bear to be with her, knowing she saw me as a duty.” He shook his head. “But what am I to do? I have raised her expectations.”
Darcy was firm. “I cannot agree with you there. A single man in possession of a large fortune must always raise certain expectations by his very existence. But that does not mean you have done anything wrong. You have cared for Miss Bennet when she was ill. Any decent person would have done so, and her sister and your own have been her chaperones. You have danced with her and spoken with her at balls. But you never claimed her for an entire evening, as expected of a man about to make a declaration. No, I believe you may safely leave Miss Bennet, knowing you do no damage to her reputation or her heart.” He looked at his friend with sympathy. “The only heart that has been damaged is your own. And that will soon recover with the distractions of London.”
Bingley nodded. “So be it,” he said heavily. His face was lined with misery. “I will make the arrangements to leave for London.”
Darcy stood up. He tried not to look too pleased as he patted his friend on the shoulder. “It is for the best,” he said comfortingly. “You will see.”
Bingley made no reply. When Darcy left the room, he was still staring into the fire.
Chapter 13
“It was a fine ball, was it not?” Mrs Bennet said with the self-satisfied sigh of someone who felt it was all her own doing. “Mr Bingley could look at no-one but Jane. I was sure he would make an announcement last night, considering the ball was in her honour, but perhaps he will do so later.”
“I danced twelve dances,” exclaimed Lydia stoutly. “I do wonder, Lizzy that you danced with Mr Darcy. Did you not promise you would never dance with him?”
Elizabeth was felt annoyed with herself every time she remembered it. “Yes, I did,” she said shortly. “But I did not count on him taking me by surprise. I had no idea he would ever ask me to dance. I agreed before I knew what I was about.”
“I should not wonder you agreed to dance with him,” Kitty giggled. “Anything would be preferable to dancing with that awful Mr Collins. Did you see how he crashed into Maria Lucas? I was so embarrassed for you, Lizzy.”
“Quiet, girls,” hissed their mother abruptly. The sound of someone clearing their throat came from the doorway. The girls looked around in alarm to see Mr Collins standing there, his hands behind his back. He gave no indication whether he had heard their conversation.
“Mrs Bennet, I would like a private audience with your daughter,” he said. “Miss Elizabeth.”
Mrs Bennet stared at him thunderstruck before rising to her feet. Her eyes filled with a desperate hope. “Yes, of course,” she said in a hoarse whisper. She gathered the rest of the girls about her and shooed them from the room like a flock of geese.
“Mama, please,” Elizabeth protested. “Mr Collins must forgive me, but he can have nothing to say that he would not like anyone else to hear.”
“Lizzy,” snapped her mother. “I insist you stay here and listen to Mr Collins.”
Elizabeth stared at her sisters helplessly, her eyes begging them to disobey their mother and remain with her. It did no good. Giggling at the thought of Elizabeth receiving a proposal from such a man, they fled the room, leaving her behind.
Elizabeth rose from her chair and almost crashed into Mr Collins. She recoiled with a shudder. He must have crept around behind her without her noticing. She sat down again quickly and sipped her hot chocolate, her eyes moving towards the window, trying to look unconcerned as to what he might have to say. She flinched as she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he breathed. “You must know how I have marked you out with particular regard from the moment I entered this house. I believe I have made my affections too clear for you to be in any doubt of what I must say to you.”
“Please, Mr Collins,” said Elizabeth.
He continued as if she had not spoken. “Before I come to the point, I believe I must outline my reasons for marrying. First, I believe it will add greatly to my own happiness. Second, it is the express wish of my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She bid me come to Longbourn and marry one of my cousins. And I believe your liveliness and wit will please her greatly.”
He moved around to her side and Elizabeth watched in horror as he went down on one knee. “My dearest cousin. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” He smiled up at her, the conviction in his eyes revealing he had no doubt that the response would be a yes. He licked his already wet lips. Elizabeth forced herself not to look away in revulsion.
“Mr Collins,” she said. “I thank you for the honour you have done me, but I cannot marry you. We could never make one another happy. I am sorry for any pain I might cause you, and I hope Lady Catherine will not be too disappointed.”
Mr Collins unfurled himself as he rose to his feet and stared down at her in confusion.
“I cannot think you are serious,” he said. “Miss Elizabeth, you must realise how generous this offer is. I am making it possible for your family to remain here after the death of your dear father. And you must also know it is not very likely that another offer will ever be made to you. Amiable as you are, you have very little to recommend you to another suitor. I am the answer to all your prayers. No, I cannot believe you are serious. I think you mean to increase my love by suspense as I am told is the habit of y
oung ladies.”
Elizabeth rose suddenly from her chair, forcing him to stand back. “Mr Collins, I beg that you pay me the compliment of believing me to be sincere. I do not wish to marry you. We will not make one another happy. I think we are entirely unsuited. By proposing to me, you have done your duty to my family, and may find a wife more suited to you with a clear conscience.”
Mr Collins smiled. Elizabeth shuddered and looked away. Why did his lips always look so wet?
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said, reaching for her hand. Elizabeth snatched it away. “Your modesty does you credit. Lady Catherine will be pleased you are not the sort of young lady who will throw herself at a man. And I find I like it very much that you are so reluctant. It only adds to your charm. I do not doubt I shall lead you to the alter before the year is out.”
“Mr Collins,” Elizabeth cried. “If my refusing you is seen as encouragement, I cannot think how to voice my refusal in a way that will convince you of its being one. I do not wish to marry you, and I will not. There is nothing more to be said.”
She inclined her head and left the room. As she pulled the door open, her mother and sisters almost tumbled into the room from their position of trying to listen at the door. She stormed past them.
“Mr Collins,” cried Mrs Bennet. “Let me be the first to congratulate you on our nearer connection. When are we to have a wedding?”
“Before the year is out, madam,” said Mr Collins triumphantly. The younger girls gasped, while Mrs Bennet clapped her hands in joy. “Your amiable daughter is putting up quite the resistance. She says she will not have me, but I know how young ladies behave when they secretly mean to accept a man.”
Mrs Bennet stopped in horror. “She has refused you?” she whispered.
Mr Collins waved his hand as if it were of little consequence. “Ladies always say no when they mean yes,” he said. “I have no fear that she is serious.”
Mrs Bennet knew different. “Excuse me, Mr Collins,” she said.
She went at once to find Mr Bennet. He was buried in his library as usual. He listened to her complaint gravely, then ordered that Elizabeth should be brought to him.
“My dear child, your mother tells me you have refused Mr Collins’s offer of marriage. Is this true?”
“I have sir,” said Elizabeth.
“You must insist she marry him or we are all ruined,” cried Mrs Bennet. “If she does not, I shall never see her again.”
“Then it seems from this day forward, you must be a stranger to one of your parents, Lizzy,” said Mr Bennet. “Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr Collins. And I will never see you again if you do.”
Mrs Bennet cried in outrage as Elizabeth ran to her father to embrace him.
“Between you, you will ruin this family,” she cried. “Neither of you care nothing for the rest. As long as you can trade clever remarks with one another, the well-being of the rest of us means nothing.”
Elizabeth flinched as her mother’s words struck. She stood in the protective circle of her father’s arm as her mother poured out her frustrations with them both.
“I cannot see you,” she said. “You will go to London to stay with my brother and his wife. Perhaps there, you will learn to be grateful for your family and remember what you owe us.”
Elizabeth looked up at her father. He regarded his wife gravely, then nodded. “So be it,” he said. He released Elizabeth, keen to be done with dealing with the matter. “Please close the door as you leave,” he said to dismiss them.
Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief as they left the library. She would not have to marry Mr Collins. And contrary to what her mother believed, being banished from Mrs Bennet’s presence was not the punishment she felt it was. Elizabeth would enjoy nothing more than a few months with her favourite aunt and uncle.
Mrs Bennet walked away, her back stiff. Elizabeth took the chance to find Jane, to acquaint her with all that had passed.
She found Jane in their shared bed chamber. Jane sat on the end of the bed, still in her wrap. She was hunched over a letter and looked up at Elizabeth with hopeless eyes when she saw her sister.
“Oh, Lizzy,” she said. She handed over the letter without saying another word.
Elizabeth walked over to the window to read it. It was a short note from Miss Bingley, telling Jane they were leaving Netherfield at once, and would not return for the winter. The glittering house where they had spent the previous night was to be shut up indefinitely.
“How can they leave so suddenly?” said Elizabeth. “There was no hint that they had any such plans last night. Miss Bingley must have persuaded her brother to leave.”
“Yes,” said Jane. “And it is clear what this means, is it not? Mr Bingley does not care for me, or he could never leave so easily. I have been deceived as to his true feelings.”
“I cannot believe that,” Elizabeth protested with heat. She moved to sit beside Jane. “We know his sisters do not approve. It would not surprise me at all if they convinced him he had some urgent business to attend to in London and then hope to keep him there once he is in town. But I would be very much surprised if he was not back by your side before the month is finished. He loves you, Jane. Any simpleton could see how much he loves you. Do not despair.”
Jane smiled, heartened by her words. “And what news have you?” she asked. “You burst in here like a whirlwind, and I have heard Mama crying out for at least half an hour. Am I to congratulate the future Mrs Collins?”
Elizabeth laughed, relief at her near escape making her giddy. “I am afraid not. And while I was always Mama’s least favourite child, I believe I rank even lower than the chickens in the yard now. I have refused him. Papa supported me, but Mama is insisting I be banished to stay with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. I do not know how I shall bear the deprivation.”
“When are you to leave?”
“I do not know. By the end of the week, I suppose.”
Jane sighed. “I shall miss you, Lizzy,” she said. “You must promise you shall write to me often. I will look for your letters.”
“Of course,” said Elizabeth. “And if I happen to see Mr Bingley while I am there, I shall make sure that your endless perfections are kept before him. I do not believe he could ever forget you, but sometimes a little help does no harm.”
Jane laughed and laid her head on her sister’s shoulder. “Dear Lizzy,” she said. “I shall miss your talent for making me laugh at myself.”
“My letters will serve just as well,” Elizabeth said, squeezing her sister’s hand. “Have no fear on that score.”
Chapter 14
Apart from her sister and her father, there was only one other person in Meryton Elizabeth was loath to leave behind. Wickham had taken to calling every day, and she found herself longing more and more for his company. She laughed when she caught herself sighing over him. Never did she think she could be such a foolish girl. But the more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to spend with him. They could spend hours talking to one another, and feel as if no time had passed. It was as if there was not enough time in the world for all they wished to say to one another.
So when Elizabeth received the shocking news that her best friend, Charlotte had accepted Mr Collins’s proposal, he was the one to whom she directed her complaints.
“I cannot believe it of her,” she said as they walked in the garden to escape Mrs Bennet’s tears and looks of recrimination at Elizabeth. “How could she marry such a foolish man? My own dearest friend. She is far too sensible to marry someone like him.”
Wickham looked at her with sympathy. “Some people will do terrible things for money,” he said. “And not every one has the same strength of character that enables them to stand against the pressures of others.”
“I thank you for the flattery of my character, but I assure you, Charlotte is not the type to marry a man for his money. She has no interest in wealth.”
Wickham shrugged. “Well, a comfortable hom
e, then. And security. Perhaps she wished to ensure her own future, and believed Mr Collins was the safest route for her. She has not your courage to take the chance to live the life she wants. I hope you will not be too hard on her. She will have many trials being married to a man such as Mr Collins. And she will also have to contend with Lady Catherine de Bourgh who from what I hear, will dictate every aspect of her life. Your friend has not chosen an easy path.”
“No, she has not,” Elizabeth agreed. “And you are right. Charlotte is sensible enough to realise what she has chosen for herself. She is not blind to it. I do not understand how she could bear it, though. There was never any doubt in my mind that I should refuse him.”
Wickham smiled down at her. His eyes were tender. “I am very glad to hear that,” he said softly. He plucked a last clinging winter flower from a nearby bush and handed it to her.
Elizabeth stared down at it, and then up into his eyes. He could not look away from her. The look lingered between them. Elizabeth’s heart pounded. Was he about to make a declaration? And if he were, how would she respond?
“Wickham,” a voice called. Denny had appeared in the garden and waved across at him. “You must come. You are wanted.”
With a sigh, Wickham moved away from her. “I must go,” he said. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. He released it and strode across the garden. Elizabeth remained where she was, her flower held between her fingers.
As Elizabeth prepared her trunks for her journey to London, Lydia came to her room. Lydia rarely came to her chamber unless it was to steal something of hers, so Elizabeth kept a wary eye on her little sister as she wandered around the room, humming and looking very pleased with herself.
“What is it, Lydia?” she asked when she could stand it no longer.
“I have heard news,” she said. “Wickham is engaged.” Lydia looked breathlessly at Elizabeth to see how she would take the news.
