Elizabeth felt letting Lydia leave was a poor use of funds. She also didn’t trust her youngest sister’s behavior in the slightest. Yet, she didn’t argue with him. She did her best not to permit anything to tax her father, and couldn’t imagine how troublesome her mother and Lydia would be to him should he refuse the invitation.
The night before the regiment, Mrs. Forster and Lydia were to leave, there was a farewell party for the departing officers. Elizabeth was in no mood for a party, but her father insisted she act as if nothing was seriously wrong with him. She went, along with Mary, Kitty and Lydia, trying to hide her miserable mood. When they arrived, she took a small plate from the buffet and sat in a corner by herself.
A shadow fell over her. She looked up, finding Mr. Wickham. She’d been able to avoid him before, but now he blocked any escape. She hadn’t thought of that, when she’d hidden in the corner.
He bowed. “Miss Bennet, it’s lovely to see you.”
“Mr. Wickham,” she said, nodding. She didn’t stand, hoping he would wander away.
Instead, he sat down beside her. “I understand you were at Rosings and that Mr. Darcy returned you to Hertfordshire.”
“Yes,” she replied. Maybe if she spoke little he would leave.
“I suspect it was an uncomfortable ride, the fifty miles you had to cover.”
“His carriage was one of the most comfortable ones I have ever ridden in,” she said, deliberately misunderstanding him.
“I meant because he probably said so little to you.”
“He spoke enough. He was very solicitous of Mrs. Collins,” she said, wondering what Mr. Wickham wanted from her.
“Perhaps he was doing it at Lady Catherine’s bidding. He’s always respected his aunt,” Mr. Wickham said.
“Perhaps.” Considering Lady Catherine never offered condolences, in person or even writing, Elizabeth doubted she’d ordered Mr. Darcy to do anything for Charlotte. She actually had the impression he was angry with his aunt.
“He must have had some reason. I find it inconceivable he’s trying to be a better person.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. Mr. Darcy, for all his faults, was an infinitely better person than Mr. Wickham. She found her present companion’s derision grating. Who was Mr. Wickham to judge the behavior of a worthy man? “He was very kind to Mrs. Collins,” she repeated.
“He is sometimes kind to a person if they are right before him. I suppose, in his mind, it makes up for his ruthlessness.”
“Ruthlessness?” Elizabeth snapped her mouth closed, but not quickly enough to keep the word from escaping. She recognized Wickham’s game. He was baiting her into a conversation where he could make false claims against Mr. Darcy.
“He has a mill at Pemberley with children working in it. Men can work there, but earn little more than the children. I can’t imagine how horrible that would be for a man. Darcy’s father would turn in his grave if he knew.” With that, Mr. Wickham stood up and sauntered away.
Elizabeth was frozen in shock. She was glad no one approached her for some time. She was aware her outlook of late had been dire, colored by her father’s decline. She also knew Mr. Wickham hid lies in a layer of truth. Still, how could any truth about a mill that employed children turn out to be acceptable? She sighed. She was just beginning to think well of Mr. Darcy, and then this.
Chapter Six
You’ve come to drive us from our home
Her father’s health continued to deteriorate imperceptibly. It was only by remembering what his condition was more than a week ago that Elizabeth could see the downhill slide. Mrs. Bennet constantly protested his refusal to allow entertainment and the monetary restrictions, but past hospitality kept invitations coming. Jane didn’t exactly complain about being kept in London, but her letters indicated she was puzzled by it.
Elizabeth found her father seemed best early in the morning and made a point of spending time with him each day. They never broached the subject of his health, but she was glad they could talk, even if it was just about an article in the newspaper. She did all she could to deflect her mother and younger sisters away from him, seeing how they taxed what little strength he had left.
She attended the parties her mother took her to and was available to visitors, but with her father spending much of his time sleeping and Jane still in London, Elizabeth’s most enjoyable companion was Charlotte. Elizabeth spent much of her free time at Lucas Lodge, sometimes helping Charlotte with her duties. Together, they started sewing some articles for the baby, though nothing that couldn’t be repurposed. It was ill luck to do too much too soon.
It was early July before Mr. Bennet’s health was too poor to be ignored. Mrs. Bennet finally recognized her husband was dying. She spent her days wailing and moaning, setting the whole house on edge and offering a final torment to her husband. The Gardiners brought Jane from London. Two days later, Elizabeth’s father was dead.
The day after the funeral, the family gathered in the dining room later than was acceptable for condolence calls. Lydia was still in Brighton as a guest of Colonel and Mrs. Forster. It wouldn’t have been easy for her to return, but it was possible. Elizabeth wrote her the evening Mr. Bennet died. Mrs. Forster wrote Mrs. Bennet a prompt condolence letter and said that Lydia would be a welcome guest for at least another month.
Mrs. Bennet sat at the head of the table weeping noisily, flanked by Mrs. Phillips and Jane. Elizabeth, Mary and Kitty sat along the side Jane was on, the four of them filling all but one of the chairs arrayed on that side. Mr. Gardiner was opposite Elizabeth’s mother, with his wife to his right. Mr. Phillips occupied the center seat in the five across from Elizabeth and her sisters.
“We might as well let her stay,” Mr. Gardiner said about Lydia. “There isn’t a home for her to come to.”
“I don’t see why,” Mrs. Bennet said, her voice bitter. “Charlotte might have a daughter or, God willing, miscarry.”
“Mama,” Elizabeth snapped.
“It would be for the best. That woman, who you are so low as to socialize with, Lizzy, shall throw us from our home. When I think--”
“Mrs. Collins wrote her husband’s brother,” Mr. Phillips said in a loud voice, cutting off Elizabeth’s mother. “He wrote back that he will come. He should be arriving soon. She invited him here, and should join us shortly herself. I informed her of this meeting.”
“Mr. Collins may arrive?” Mr. Gardiner asked. “You aren’t sure?”
“He has a living up north somewhere, and he must arrange for someone to cover the services during his absence,” Mr. Phillips said. “Mrs. Collins wasn’t certain he would arrive here in time for this meeting. If he does not, I shall ask Mr. Gardiner to represent his interests. Mrs. Collins assures me Mr. Collins understands he may not inherit.”
“Well, I shall pray he falls victim to bandits on his way south, or succumbs to typhus, or--”
“What is the legal situation?” Mr. Gardiner asked Mr. Phillips, speaking over Elizabeth’s mother.
“There are trustees. I wrote one of them the day Mr. Bennet died.” He looked about the table. “In truth, Longbourn really isn’t our problem. Our problem is to decide how Mrs. Bennet and her daughters will live.”
“I don’t see why we can’t live here,” Mrs. Bennet cried. “There is no Mr. Collins here yet. There is no baby. There’s every chance neither will appear. I pray for it every moment.”
They all looked about at each other, no one speaking. Elizabeth realized her family had given up on trying to make her mother understand the situation. For her part, she was weary after months of assisting her father, numb with the sorrow of losing him, and too worn out from her tears to attempt speaking to her mother.
After a long silence, Jane reached out and took Mrs. Bennet’s hand. “I’m sure no one will object if we stay a few more days, Mama, but legally, we should have left when Papa died.”
“No one would be so cruel,” Mrs. Bennet wailed, reclaiming her hand to press it to her forehea
d.
Mr. Phillips cleared his throat. “Nevertheless, we should be making arrangements. Pine Cottage is unoccupied and you will be able to afford it.”
“Pine Cottage.” The look Mr. Bennet turned on Mr. Phillips was horrified. “That’s absurd. It’s much too small.”
“You will be able to have two servants,” Mr. Gardiner said. “Mr. Phillips will send his manservant to help you now and then. Jane will live with us in London.”
“And Elizabeth will live with us in Meryton,” Mrs. Phillips said.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. She would have preferred London, she would have preferred the Gardiners, but she realized that Jane was granted the best place, both by seniority and by having the sweetest temperament.
Elizabeth sat with her shoulders slumped. She stared down at her hands, resting limply in her lap, very white against her mourning black. Would she have accepted Mr. Darcy’s proposal if she knew then what she did now, and what would happen? No, she thought. Just because she’d misjudged him didn’t mean she would want to marry him. Besides, there was still the issue of the purported mill. She couldn’t marry a man she didn’t know the nature of, even to avoid Pine Cottage with her mother.
They all heard the knocker and turned toward the door. Sir William, Lady Lucas, and Charlotte were ushered in. Charlotte was visibly with child, and her face had a glow to it that made her almost beautiful. Now, however, it was composed into lines of compassion.
“You’ve come to drive us from our home,” Mrs. Bennet sobbed, grabbing Jane’s hand and clutching it to her breast. “You have no right unless Charlotte has a boy.”
“We haven’t come to drive you out,” Sir William said as he helped his wife and daughter into the two vacant chairs on the near side of the table. He walked around to the other side. “We’ve come to discuss the estate, and to invite Elizabeth to stay with us.”
“Why? Do you need another hand in the kitchen?” Mrs. Bennet said.
“She would be like a daughter to us as long as Charlotte wants her,” Lady Lucas said. “We are so grateful to her.”
“Why are you grateful?” Mr. Gardiner asked.
“She saved Charlotte’s life.” Lady Lucas looked from face to face, obviously surprised they didn’t know.
Several people simultaneously expressed surprise, their happier sounds mostly muting Mrs. Bennet’s wail. Everyone except Mrs. Bennet turned to Elizabeth with openly curious expressions. Her mother continued to sob noisily, clutching Jane’s hand. Elizabeth shrugged, shaking her head. She was in no spirit to talk about the night before they found Mr. Collins dead.
“If I may?” Charlotte asked softly, addressing Elizabeth.
“Do as you like. There’s nothing to stop you,” Mrs. Bennet snapped.
Elizabeth nodded as her mother returned to bawling.
Charlotte described what happened with the medicine, going into far greater detail than Elizabeth would have.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Jane asked when Charlotte was through. “You should be proud of what you did.”
“Mr. Collins died.” Elizabeth didn’t like Mr. Collins, but he’d been Charlotte’s husband. He was fair and even somewhat solicitous of Elizabeth’s friend. She regretted his death.
“You tried to stop him,” Charlotte said.
The knocker was heard before anyone else could reply. There was silence in the room until Mr. Collins was announced. Everyone stared, Elizabeth right along with them. Here was the man who may very well take possession of their home.
He wasn’t as tall as his older brother, or as heavy. He was handsomer, though only marginally so. The greatest difference was in his demeanor, which was neither brash nor subservient, but pleasant.
“You can’t turn us out,” Mrs. Bennet cried, breaking the silence. “Until Charlotte’s baby is born, we can stay.”
He jerked back a little.
“Mr. Collins, it’s good to see you again,” Charlotte said, standing up.
“Thank you, Mrs. Collins.” Mr. Collins’ gaze took in Charlotte’s obvious state. “Please, don’t stand on my account. I received your letter.” He looked around the room, his eyes stopping briefly on Elizabeth and each of her sisters, in turn. “Thank you for writing me so promptly,” he added, when he got back to Charlotte.
“Please, let me make introductions,” Charlotte said, not sitting.
As Charlotte introduced everyone, Elizabeth returned her gaze to her hands. She didn’t have the energy for this, she realized. She’d used her reserves caring for her father and enduring his death. She could muster almost no concern, in that moment, for Longbourn itself. What was the house without her father?
The men stood as they were introduced. Room was made for Mr. Collins at the table, far from Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth had just enough presence of mind to notice Charlotte ignored protocol and introduced her mother last.
“He can’t stay here,” Mrs. Bennet said as Mr. Collins and the other men were finally seated. She no longer made any pretense at crying.
“Mrs. Bennet.” Mrs. Phillips’ tone was firm. “The only people who have a real right to be here are Mrs. Collins and Mr. Collins. Either one of them can turn you out immediately.” She looked at her husband, who was an attorney, for confirmation. He shrugged, perhaps because it wasn’t that simple.
“We are in the process of making arrangements for Mrs. Bennet and her daughters,” Mr. Gardiner said. “It looks like the eldest will live with us. Elizabeth, are you going to accept the offer from the Lucases?”
“Yes,” she said, looking up. It bore little thinking on. It would be infinitely better to live with Charlotte and the Lucases. Aside from Jane, Charlotte was her closest friend.
“In that case, Mary will stay with us,” Mr. Phillips said.
Mrs. Phillips frowned, but Elizabeth’s uncle either didn’t see it or chose to ignore her. Mary was the next oldest, which made her the logical choice. Elizabeth knew her aunt would rather have Kitty or Lydia, who both enjoyed company more. Elizabeth felt it would be better for Mary to be more in company with her aunt than to let one of her two youngest sisters enjoy such freedom. Not that their mother would be of much use in chaperoning them.
Mr. Gardiner turned to Mrs. Bennet. “That means Pine Cottage won’t be crowded at all. When Lydia returns, she can share the second bedroom with Kitty.”
“I don’t see why I must live at Pine Cottage.” Mrs. Bennet didn’t look at her brother as she spoke. Instead, she leveled an accusatory glare on Mr. Collins. “There are better houses in the neighborhood.”
“Not ones you can afford.” Mr. Phillips’ tone brooked no argument.
Mrs. Bennet started crying again. “He’s turning us out,” she wailed, pointing to Mr. Collins.
“After such a reception, I very well may,” Mr. Collins said. Elizabeth glanced at him, surprised at the steel in his gaze. Yet another way he differed from his older brother.
The knocker was heard again. Mr. Darcy was escorted into the room. Elizabeth noticed everyone stood immediately, her along with them. He bowed to them all. He looked around the room, taking in the full table.
“Permit me, sir,” Mr. Collins said. He stepped into a nearby room. A moment later he returned, looking slightly sheepish. “I couldn’t find another chair.”
“There’s one in the library,” Elizabeth said. She started to move around the table to show him where it was.
Kitty, nearer the end, peeled away from the others and went to him. “It’s this way.” With a gesture, she led him from the room. They returned in moments with the library chair. Elizabeth blinked back tears. How many times had she sat in that chair, opposite her father?
Elizabeth seated herself along with the others, her eyes downcast. Silence descended on the table. She could hear people fidgeting and knew someone should ease the tension, but couldn’t bring to mind any words. Feeling eyes on her, she looked up to find Mr. Darcy watching her.
“I’m glad everyone has arrived at the same time,” C
harlotte said. “I hope no one is too inconvenienced to be here. Especially you, Mr. Darcy. It is kind of you to act on my behalf. If we’re finished making decisions about where the Bennets will live, I presume now we will address questions of how to handle the entailed estate?”
Mrs. Bennet fell into a mixture of groans and sobs.
Mr. Phillips cleared his throat. “I took the liberty of writing to one of the trusties the day Mr. Bennet died. He replied, saying the parties might make arrangements for the care of the property until Mrs. Collins’ baby is born. If no agreement can be reached, the trustees will step in. The estate will lose money, if that occurs.”
“But, whatever agreement is reached between the interested parties, it is not really our business,” Mr. Gardiner said, looking from Charlotte to Mr. Collins. “However, we would appreciate a couple of days for the Bennets to move out.”
Mrs. Bennet wailed. Everyone studiously ignored her.
“I agree to allowing the Bennets time to move out, if Mr. Darcy approves,” Charlotte said.
“I do,” Mr. Darcy said. He still watched Elizabeth. His expression became oddly apologetic. “I believe a timeline for their moving should be set, however, here and now.”
This elicited a loud wail from Elizabeth’s mother. Jane murmured something soothing to her.
Mr. Collins looked at the weeping Mrs. Bennet. His glance swept the largely black clad people seated at the table. “Four days from now, providing I am welcomed into the household. I require bed and board.”
Charlotte and Mr. Darcy turned to Elizabeth. She wasn’t sure why she must decide, but she nodded. “My father’s room has been cleaned, although all of his possessions haven’t been removed,” she said softly. “I think it would be appropriate if Mr. Collins stay there.”
Believing in Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 5
