“I saw Charlotte is here already, in fact she sacrificed herself to save me from a prolonged encounter with Mr. Collins.”
“Yes, she has arrived early each morning to see how she could help. I can only be grateful she convinced Lady Lucas to stay home and allow Miss Lucas to come by herself. She has been in conference with Jane and your aunt already.”
Elizabeth bit her lip. “I am sorry I was not here to help Jane and Aunt Gardiner this morning. I am grateful Charlotte has provided so much assistance, but I should have been more help to Jane than I have been.”
“You are allowed to grieve as well, and will need time away to find some peace. I have begged Jane to rest, but she will not. I think she is afraid of having quiet time to herself right now, afraid this will all become all too real. You are usually the same in times of crisis, looking for ways to keep yourself busy seeing to everyone else.”
Elizabeth held back the bitter thoughts from her walk that she and Jane should not have to be so busy during a crisis if they were not carrying the load that should have belonged to their parents. Bitterness would solve nothing, so she held her tongue.
“I must see to Jane now.”
“I meant no criticism, Lizzy. You need time for yourself as well.”
And who would see to Jane? Not you.
“Nevertheless, I must see to Jane.” Elizabeth left the library, trying to tamp down her anger and disappointment with her father
~ ~ ~
Elizabeth need not have worried so much about Jane. Charlotte had already arranged with Hill the day before to obtain arm bands and the black dye needed for their mourning clothes. Her aunts had already cleaned and dressed her mother. The undertaker had been summoned. Aunt Phillips had notified their neighbors and acquaintances, and Aunt Gardiner had begun to write the notifications. Elizabeth had only to pick out the dresses she wished to dye and pack away her others. The family had not been in mourning for many years, and so Elizabeth had no black clothing that fit her. Aunt Gardiner had already made plans to order mourning dresses in London.
By afternoon, Elizabeth needed to get out of the house. She had finally convinced Jane to take a nap and get some rest and now Elizabeth needed a respite from their home. She had no mourning clothes ready as yet, but needed the fresh air more than she the feared the impropriety of going out. Letting her aunts know she was heading out, Elizabeth picked up her bonnet and left the house.
She had no desire to head into Meryton, but she started along that road in order to reach a favorite path of hers. Her mind was such a jumble that she forced herself to focus only on each step and how much closer it brought her to the field of wildflowers she sought. Few, if any, of the flowers would be left at this time of year, but she could sit quietly on her rock and watch the sunlight poke through the trees onto the bubbling stream as the remaining flowers around her danced in the breeze. The area was the most peaceful place she knew, and a favorite of hers when she was out of sorts.
“Miss Elizabeth,” a voice called. She attempted a pleasant expression before turning to see who had interrupted her solitude. She wanted no company at the moment and hoped whomever it was would leave shortly.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Wickham called again as he quickly walked towards her. “I did not expect to see you out today. Please accept my condolences on the loss of your mother.” He gave her a sad smile, and Elizabeth was glad that if someone were to interrupt her, at least it was Mr. Wickham.
“I thank you,” she replied briefly.
“May I walk with you a bit?” Elizabeth nodded as she continued down the road.
“I found I needed to escape the house for a little while. There is much to do, but I needed some quiet and solitude.”
“Neither of which are to be found in great abundance with your sisters or cousin in residence, I am sure.” Wickham gently smiled again, to ensure she did not take offense.
Elizabeth returned a slight smile of her own. “No, you know them too well to suppose there is any quiet to be found at Longbourn right now.”
“Please know that you can speak to me if you wish. I understand the pain of losing a parent and would be happy to offer you any assistance that I can.”
“You are a good friend, Mr. Wickham, and I thank you.”
“I try to be a better friend to others than others have been to me.”
“And you have been quite successful, Sir. I know not how you find the will to offer such kindness when you have known so little yourself.”
“I have known my share of pain, some deliberate, like Mr. Darcy’s actions, and some simply the course of life, like losing loved ones. When a loved one dies, you can treasure the happy memories to help counter the grief.”
“But there is no positive counterpoint to pain caused with deliberation.”
“No, there is not, but one cannot allow cruelty received to turn one into a dealer in cruelty. You have a positive nature, Miss Elizabeth, so I have no doubt that, with time, you will recover and find the cheerful lady you once were.”
“I hope you are correct, for it seems an impossibility just now.”
Mr. Wickham stopped and took her hand. Elizabeth was too stunned by the action to stop him. She looked up to see him gazing at her intently.
“You will find your way through your sorrow, for you are not only of a lively disposition, but also a kind heart. While you suffer now, it will not always be so. Someday you will be ready to return to company with your sparkling wit and lively conversation. You will again wish to dance and laugh and –” He cut himself off with a sad shake of his head. “Forgive me Miss Elizabeth, I know you are in mourning,” and he slowly lowered her hand, stepping back as he released it. Elizabeth had not realized how close they had been standing until he stepped back and she was grateful he had returned to propriety, late though it may have been.
“I fear your cousin will find himself most unhappy he cannot make you an offer at this time,” he said with a smile, attempting to return to their earlier camaraderie. Elizabeth felt her cheeks warm and knew she must be blushing most noticeably. She ducked her head, but not in time.
Mr. Wickham’s eyes narrowed as he gestured for them to continue walking. “Do not tell me the man has already made you an offer?”
Faced with a direct question, Elizabeth felt she had no option but to respond. “He did, but I informed him we are not well suited and would make a most unhappy couple.”
Mr. Wickham grinned warmly. “You are an even braver lady than I had given you credit for. Not many ladies would have been able to refuse an offer of security, regardless of the repugnance of the man offering.”
“Mr. Wickham!”
“Forgive me, I should not have spoken so about your cousin, though I stand behind my words on your bravery in escaping him. Or your bravery in facing your mother as I am certain she did not receive the news well . . .” He trailed off, and Elizabeth dropped her gaze again. She could only assume he had guessed her terrible secret. He stopped again and faced her.
“Forgive me again, Miss Elizabeth. I was not thinking and had forgotten your recent loss when I spoke.”
“Be easy, Mr. Wickham. I am not upset.”
“But she was upset, was she not? Is that what precipitated her accident?”
Elizabeth continued to stare at the ground as she tried to hold back her tears. After a moment, she spoke.
“It was. She was angry with me as she rushed up the stairs.” Elizabeth quickly wiped away a tear and looked down the road, away from him. “I did not see what happened, but she must have lost her footing while she was distracted and fell.”
“Oh, Miss Elizabeth!” he cried with feeling as he again took her hands in his. “I am so very sorry. I am a beast for having brought up such a subject. How you must be suffering! Please, you must know that the accident was not your fault. You could not have predicted the outcome of your refusal. You are in no way to blame and must realize that such an accident could have occurred at any time. Your mother’s inj
ury coinciding as it did with your disagreement must be causing you great pain, but you must not cast undue blame upon yourself.”
Elizabeth began to tremble, doing everything she could to prevent the sobs she felt threatening to take control of her body.
“Here, Miss Elizabeth,” he said as he rubbed his hands down her arms, “Why do we not sit on the log over there while you calm yourself.”
“No, I will be fine, I only need a moment to collect myself.” She drew in deep breaths as Mr. Wickham continued to hold her hands.
She found the contact most comforting in her distress. Despite her condition, she was glad it was Mr. Wickham who had come across her walking. She needed his charm and cheer on this of all days.
“Perhaps I should head home, I am obviously not myself today and should not have come out.”
“Nay, you could not stand to be trapped indoors forever. A spirit such as yours must roam free on occasion, lest it be broken. Come, let me escort you home,” he said as he placed her hand on his arm and began walking toward Longbourn.
Elizabeth patted his arm with her free hand.
“You are too kind, Mr. Wickham. I am in your debt.”
“Nonsense, Miss Elizabeth,” he replied with a smile as he rested his free hand atop hers. “It is my own fault that you are in your current state. You are in no condition for me to leave you alone. Please allow me to atone for my poor behavior by seeing you home.”
“I thank you Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth replied, grateful to have the company of a man of good manners at such a time.
CHAPTER 6
I hate the scent of lilies.
Elizabeth sat in the parlor, keeping vigil over her mother. She had never noticed a particular scent to the flower previously, but after sitting for hours at a time in a room filled with them, Elizabeth had developed a great distaste for the flower. She pulled her shawl around herself tighter.
No fire had been set in the room since her mother’s body had been laid out. Elizabeth knew her mother was past feeling the cold, but had covered her with a blanket anyway. Elizabeth knew the chill was necessary, but it bothered her nonetheless. Everything bothered her lately.
Elizabeth stood up and walked around the room. Night contained her most wakeful hours lately. Tired of staring at her ceiling or keeping watch out her window, she had volunteered for more of the night shifts with her mother. Her memories and thoughts were far too clear to allow her to sleep, and she had begun to fear what visions would play through her dreams if she should slumber.
Somehow, sitting with her mother kept most of the memories at bay. She was far more likely in the silence of her own room to remember the turn of her mother’s countenance as she had announced she would never again speak to Elizabeth.
“I only wanted some choice in my future, Mamma,” she said as she laid her hand on the coffin. “I wanted to avoid the misery you and Father have caused each other. I should not have said what I did to you, but I could not live with the choice you wanted me to make.”
“Of course you could not, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth turned and felt her cheeks warm as she saw her father in the doorway. She never would have spoken aloud had she thought anyone else in the house awake.
“Forgive me, Papa, I did not see you there.” Mr. Bennet ignored the statement and walked towards her.
“I see you have tucked her in, nice and snug. I could ever count on you to see to practicalities.”
“Providing a blanket to one who no longer feels warmth nor cold hardly seems practical.”
“Still, you thought to take care of her, even knowing she could not appreciate the effort. You often did so.”
“I was nothing but a disappointment to her.”
“Nonsense, Lizzy. Your mother was proud of you. She admired that you and Jane were so well respected by everyone who knows you. She admired your intelligence, though I doubt she ever voiced the thought to you. She was ashamed of the gaps in her own education, but was proud to see you learn more from books than she ever had.”
She thought me somewhat pretty, but not so pretty as Jane. She thought me too willful and that I acted above my company.
Elizabeth replied simply, “Forgive me, Sir, but I find that difficult to believe.”
“Because you saw only the silly woman who seemed desperate to marry off her daughters as soon as possible. She was not always so. She genuinely worried for all of you should I die before you were safely married. As each year passed, she became less reasonable and more anxious. Her criticisms of you were largely based on her fear you would not find a husband by being so outspoken. She was afraid you were deliberately sentencing yourself to a life of spinsterhood and poverty through your obstinacy.”
“That sounds more like the woman I knew.”
Her father sighed, “I know your mother had not the open affection for you that she had for Jane or Lydia, but for that you must blame me. I made no secret that you were my favorite and it hurt her. I thought her silly for being jealous of her own daughter and did nothing that would soothe her or protect you.” He placed a hand on the coffin, looking at his wife and again sighed.
“I was a poor husband, and you are correct – we did cause each other misery. However, we also brought each other great joy and we each of us loved the family we created.”
“I did not mean for you to hear me.”
“I know, Lizzy, I know. You are correct, though. You could not have lived with the choice she wanted.”
“And it seems I got my wish.” Elizabeth whispered and hugged herself tighter as a chill ran through her.
“We are not to blame.”
Elizabeth looked up at her father. “We? I know why I blame myself, but why would you consider yourself to be at fault?”
Mr. Bennet looked sadly to his wife as he placed his hand over hers.
“Your mother came to me with a genuine concern and I mocked her for it. I knew her fears. I knew how they had consumed her life despite my attempts to reassure her. She was just as angry with me as she was with you. I would not have forced you to marry Mr. Collins, but I could have let your mother know so in a kinder way. Perhaps I could have diffused her anger somewhat had I only made the attempt.”
“She was not thinking of you when she was rushing up the stairs. She was thinking only of my heartless words.” Elizabeth dropped her head, unable to look at her father as she made her confession. “I accused her of trying to barter me off for her own comfort.”
Mr. Bennet wrapped an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders. “I have no doubt she had words just as harsh for you. I also suspect you would have apologized for your words long before she would have offered an apology for hers.”
“What difference does it make? She is gone now and I cannot take them back.”
“No, neither of us can take back our final words with your mother. That is a regret we will both learn to live with, but it does not put either of us at fault for her death. You are far too sensible to continue to think so.”
Elizabeth nodded and wiped her eyes. She would say nothing further and allow her father to believe himself persuasive. She could not bear to cause him any further pain. While she knew she should believe him, she could not quite bring herself to do so.
~ ~ ~
Days passed, though they were mostly a blur to Elizabeth. For the prior night’s vigil, she and Jane had tied sprigs of rosemary with black ribbons as mourning tokens for those attending the funeral. She found the scent of rosemary far preferable to the lilies and had spent a more peaceful evening because of it.
She and her sisters had already prepared the tokens for those closer to their mother – gloves for her mother’s closest friends, black handkerchiefs for her acquaintances. Elizabeth had embroidered her mother’s initials on the gloves intended for Lady Lucas. As much as the two ladies had worked to best each other at any and all accomplishments, Lady Lucas had been her mother’s best friend and, Elizabeth felt, deserving of special notice.
If her m
other could have but lasted another day, they might have been rid of Mr. Collins. Upon learning of Mrs. Bennet’s death, the man had insisted on delaying his planned departure as he felt his attendance quite necessary for her funeral. Elizabeth could not bring herself to speak to the man or she would have tried to raise concerns regarding Lady Catherine’s approval in an effort to get him gone. Her father might have had more success, but he had largely kept to himself in his library since the accident.
Elizabeth could only hope her cousin would leave tomorrow. It was too much to hope that he might leave after the funeral today, but she comforted herself that the following day should see him return to his patroness.
Elizabeth patted the black crepe of the gown she had borrowed from Charlotte. They had finished dyeing and resewing the last of the gowns yesterday, but Charlotte had offered the use of her nicest mourning dress. Elizabeth walked to the kitchen to check with Hill and make certain that arrangements were in order for the luncheon after the burial. Elizabeth was not surprised to find Charlotte already in the kitchen.
“Do you even sleep at your own house anymore, Charlotte?”
“I do,” she replied, with a smile for her friend. “But I try to arrive here early to ensure things are in place for all of you.”
Elizabeth hugged Charlotte tightly. “You have been of enormous help to us, but please, do not let us take all your time. You must have been run ragged over the past week between what you have helped with here and your own duties at home.”
“Think nothing of it,” Charlotte replied as she rubbed Elizabeth’s back. “When my grandmother died, I believe I was ten at the time, your mother came to Lucas Lodge every day to assist with preparations. My mother told me she did not know how anything would have been accomplished without Mrs. Bennet’s help, for my mother was in such a distracted state that she had trouble identifying what step to take next. I can remember clearly, walking into the kitchen one morning as your mother held mine, Mrs. Bennet soothing tears and patting Mamma’s back with one hand, while directing the servants with her other.” Charlotte led Elizabeth to the breakfast room and sat down with her.
Folly and Forgiveness: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 4
