Deception

by Ola Wegner

  Lydia and Kitty were sitting by the fire, warming their feet.

  “Lizzy, you shall drink some hot tea. Such an unpleasant weather we are having today.” Mrs. Philips put her hand to Elizabeth’s nose. “You are cold, my dear. Kitty, Lydia, make a place for your sister next to the fire.”

  The girls left their occupation by the mantelpiece without protest, which allowed Elizabeth to take her place there. She stretched her legs with a sigh and held her hands closer to the fire.

  “So, Lizzy, your sisters told me earlier that this cousin of yours, Mr. Collins, who is to inherit Longbourn, will come to visit you,” Mrs. Philips enquired from the small side table where she was preparing tea for her.

  “Yes, Aunt,” Elizabeth replied eagerly, relieved that her Aunt clearly did not intend to further pursue the subject of Mr. Brooke and his possible interest in her any more. “We can expect him tomorrow, at four o’clock.”

  “I wonder what sort of man he is.” Mrs. Philips handed Elizabeth her cup. “He cannot be entirely bad as he is a clergyman, after all. But one can never know.”

  “The letter he wrote to our father sounded quite polite, I believe, but I am not sure whether our cousin is a sensible man.”

  “Well, we shall see, shall we not? Remember to bring him next week to my party.”

  “I will tell him about your invitation, Aunt.”

  Mrs. Philips leaned closer to her niece and searched her face. “You look flushed, Lizzy.” She touched Elizabeth’s forehead. “Are you not feverish, perhaps? You could have caught a cold from Jane.”

  “No, Aunt. I am fine, truly; perhaps a little tired.” She straightened herself in her comfortable armchair and smiled. “The tea has warmed me up; that is all.”

  ***

  “Oh, Lizzy! Mr. Brooke really said that to you?” Jane cried animatedly. The sisters were in Jane’s bedroom, talking as usual before retiring to sleep.

  “Yes, he did. You can imagine my astonishment.”

  Jane sat comfortably on the bed next to her sister, her feet curled under her. “Lizzy, he must have some intentions toward you. I cannot explain his behaviour otherwise.”

  “You think so?” Elizabeth looked worriedly into her sister’s eyes.

  “Yes. He told you such intimate things about himself, about his past. One does not talk about such private issues with just anybody, Lizzy. Perhaps he wants you to learn more about him?”

  “When you put it that way, Jane, I cannot but agree with you.” Elizabeth bit her lip worriedly.

  “What is more, he stayed silent on the subject of your first meeting. If he plans to court you, it is natural he does not want any blemish on your reputation.”

  “Perhaps we misunderstand him, Jane. There must be some other explanation.”

  Jane shook her head slowly. “I cannot imagine what could it be, Lizzy. He plainly said that he would have nothing against people thinking he was courting you. Moreover, why he would mention that he was lonely, without family and having no children?”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and dropped on the pillows, hiding her face in one of them. “Oh, Jane,” she mumbled. “I am afraid to think how Mama will act when she finds out about this or sees Mr. Brooke paying attention to me.”

  Jane rubbed her sister’s back. “Mama is not that bad. She means well. She only worries about our future. We have no dowry, the estate is entailed and…”

  Elizabeth sat up abruptly. “Yes, but it is different when she match makes you with a man you like.”

  “You do not like Mr. Brooke?”

  “Oh, Jane, how can you even ask? I do respect him, for he is a sensible man, but I have no feelings for him, certainly not like you have for Mr. Bingley.”

  Jane blushed prettily. “Why do you think that I have feelings for Mr. Bingley?”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes, smiled, shook her head and pulled gently at her sister’s long blond braid. Jane only flushed more, smiled back and hid her face in her palms.

  “I like him too. He will be good for you. You will be happy with him.”

  “You think he will want me?”

  “Jane, dearest, of course he will, and I am sure he already does. You are the sweetest, the most beautiful woman he has ever met. He would not be in his right mind to let you slip away from him.”

  “I hope so, Lizzy. I do hope he likes me,” Jane spoke softly, yet shyly. “But let us return to Mr. Brooke. What do you think about him? You are sure you cannot…”

  “He is sooo old.” Elizabeth made a face, her eyes going round. “He could be our father.”

  “You exaggerate. He is six and thirty, younger than Uncle Gardiner.”

  “I know, but still… I just cannot imagine him to be someone more. I see him more like one of our father’s or Sir William’s acquaintances. I simply cannot see him in another light. That is simply… unthinkable. He does not affect me…,” Elizabeth started, but paused and averted her eyes uneasily.

  “You mean he does not affect you the way Mr. Darcy does?” Jane enquired gently.

  Elizabeth felt herself turning brightly red, and she did not know where to look. At length she murmured uneasily. “How do you know?”

  “Because I know you, Lizzy.” Jane cupped Elizabeth’s flushed cheek. “Dearest sister, at last you met a man who was able to pique your interest, which is quite a feat I believe,” she spoke amusedly and added warmly. “You like Mr. Darcy.”

  “I do not!” Elizabeth cried fiercely. “I loathe him.”

  Jane smiled, biting her lower lip. “Lizzy, I heard your conversation with Mr. Darcy by the door to my bedroom at Netherfield. It was not my intention to listen, but I woke up when you screamed.”

  Elizabeth did not comment on this as a distressed, embarrassed expression appeared on her face, so Jane added softly. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He is not indifferent to you either.”

  Elizabeth lifted her suddenly sad eyes. “But he is, Jane, he is.” She shook her head slowly. “He said so himself. I was not good enough for him. It will be best for me not to think about him at all, to forget about him.”

  Chapter Four

  Mrs. Thomas Bennet was a woman with a mission in her life, marrying off her five daughters. The arrival of three eligible wealthy single men into the neighbourhood had understandably put her into state of utter frenzy and readiness, her mind occupied constantly with the possible splendid matches for her girls. Like a general before the decisive battle, she did the reconnaissance of the opposite side, re-evaluated her own assets and began the first manoeuvres.

  At the early stage, indisputably, the top place on the list of priorities was occupied by Mr. Brooke and his fifteen thousand pounds a year, estate in the country and house in town. Mr. Darcy, with his ten thousand pounds, huge estate in Derbyshire and house in town, seized the second place, but only for a very short period of time. Offending any of her daughters, even the one she herself liked the least, was in Mrs. Bennet’s eyes a capital offence. Hearing that her daughter was found to be not handsome enough to dance with hurt Mrs. Bennet’s personal pride and vanity. The Bennet girls had always been considered the jewels of the county, after all. No one dared to argue the obvious fact. As the disagreeable Mr. Darcy was crossed out from the second location, Mr. Bingley with his five thousand a year naturally took his place.

  Very soon, however, Mr. Bingley, though the least affluent of all three men, pushed himself into the position of the favourite. Though, Mr. Brooke would have been undoubtedly a better catch for Jane, his lack of any visible interest, together with the frequent absences from parties and gatherings, always explained with urgent business in town, put him involuntarily in the shadows.

  For the time being, Mrs. Bennet decided to invest her energy into bringing Jane and Mr. Bingley closer together. It was certainly not prudent to overlook such an amiable young man’s infatuation of her beautiful daughter. Five thousand a year was neither Mr. Darcy’s ten nor Mr. Brooke’s fifteen, but it was still a very attractive perspecti
ve to look upon. Sending Jane to Netherfield with a strong possibility if catching cold was a masterful move on which Mrs. Bennet could only congratulate herself. As for Mr. Brooke, she did not give up her hopes on him in the least. She simply decided to wait and observe how things would develop themselves on their own in his case.

  When the letter came from Mr. Bennet’s cousin, Mr. Collins, to whom Longbourn was most unfairly entailed, announcing his visit, Mrs. Bennet had to quite understandably include him in her plans as well. Mr. Collins, when compared to the other three gentlemen in terms of his situation in life, was truly nothing. He was the parson of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, in the village of Hunsford, which neighboured her estate, Rosings Park, in Kent. From descriptions given by Mr. Collins, she seemed to be a truly grand and wealthy lady, one who could offer a lot to people loyal to her. Mrs. Bennet agreed that though Mr. Collins was neither particularly entertaining nor attractive, he certainly possessed other valid qualities. He already had a comfortable income, and marrying one of her daughters to him would ensure Mrs. Bennet a safe home at Longbourn till her very last days, in case she would live longer than her husband. There was no doubt that the choice for Mr Collin’s wife should fall, of course, on Elizabeth, as Mrs. Bennet doubted the girl would make a better match anyway with her wild manners, headstrongness and peculiar interests.

  Mrs. Bennet made it immediately clear to Mr.Collins that Jane was practically spoken for, delicately turning his attention to her second daughter, Elizabeth. Mr. Collins followed the clue immediately, gluing himself to Elizabeth’s side and showering her with compliments. Mrs. Bennet, on her part, promoted the courtship, seating him by Elizabeth’s side at every meal, and encouraging, or rather ordering, her to show him the gardens, the park, or whatever spot around the village he desired to see.

  Sticking to this policy, on the third day after Mr. Collins' arrival, when the weather at last seemed to improve itself, Mrs. Bennet arranged a trip to Meryton for Mr. Collins to show him the town. Elizabeth was to be his guide, and it was decided that Jane had recovered enough and would accompany them as well. It was, after all, quite possible to encounter Mr. Bingley on the way to town or in Meryton itself. Lydia and Kitty, hearing about these plans, insisted on going as well, understandably hoping for the chance of meeting officers. Mary had no desire to meet anyone, but her mother decided she should go as well, insisting she was in drastic need of fresh air and exercise.

  This decided, shortly after breakfast, all five Bennet sisters plus Mr. Collins set off to Meryton. Kitty and Lydia walked first, followed by Elizabeth with Mr. Collins close at her side, and later Jane and Mary.

  Mr. Collins took an effort to stay next to Elizabeth the entire way to Meryton, making it a most unpleasant experience instead of her usual enjoyable walk. He walked by her side, very closely indeed, frequently rubbing his arm against hers. Moreover, he leaned into her face every time he spoke to her, and often stared into her face at the same time, licking his plump red lips.

  More than once during the walk, Elizabeth felt simply dizzy. However, it was quite a different type of light-headedness from the one she had experienced when being close to Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy’s scent was manly, spicy and intoxicating, but at the same time clean and heavenly, nice to breathe. That could not be said about Mr. Collins. He looked and, worse, smelled greasy. Elizabeth could not help but wonder when the last time was that he had taken a bath and brushed his teeth. However, absolutely the worst thing to bear was the perfume Mr. Collins had doused upon himself. Elizabeth was now absolutely certain that there could have been nothing worse than the unwashed male body in combination with cheap perfume.

  On entering the town of Meryton, Lydia and Kitty scanned the area for even the smallest trace of a red coat. Having noticed Captain Denny, they rushed to him instantly, so only their red capes fluttered after them in the air.

  Elizabeth, being literally sick to her stomach as a result of the close proximity to Mr. Collins, came between Mary and Jane and led them decidedly to the nearest shopping window, taking a sudden interest in the bonnets. In this way, the abandoned Mr. Collins was left with little choice other than to occupy the place behind the sisters.

  Soon the Bennets girls’ attention was drawn by a gentleman’s voice clearly calling one of them.

  “Miss Bennet, what a fortunate meeting.” They turned in unison from the window display to see Mr. Bingley dismounting his horse, a genuinely happy expression on his face.

  “We were on the way to Longbourn to call on you and enquire after your health, Miss Bennet.” Mr. Bingley approached Jane hastily, smiling at her, his eyes taking in every detail of her serene form, his whole countenance as if beaming at the sight of her.

  Jane smiled, blushed and averted her eyes shyly.

  “Are you well, Miss Bennet? Are you fully recovered?” Mr. Bingley enquired earnestly, trying to meet her eyes.

  “Yes, Mr. Bingley.” Jane looked up at him, smiling, her colour still high. “I thank you. I am very well indeed. I believe you had not the opportunity to know our cousin, Mr. Collins?”

  When Jane was introducing Mr. Collins to Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Bingley, on his part, was basking in the whole presence, blushes, smiles and blue eyes of his angel, Elizabeth’s attention was definitely occupied elsewhere. She had promptly taken notice of Mr. Darcy on a big black horse and felt the now familiar sensations in her stomach, as if dozens of butterflies were fluttering inside her. She averted her eyes, being very careful to look at Jane and Mr. Bingley. However, she was perfectly aware of him dismounting his horse and walking slowly toward their group. She knew he came to stand almost in front of her, and to her great displeasure, she felt the blush creeping up her face. At length, being painfully conscious of his stubborn stare, she removed her eyes from the space somewhere between Jane and Mr. Bingley and met his gaze. It did not help. It was as if he was drawing her to him with his eyes. She forced herself to look away, and asked Mr. Bingley about the earlier discussed plans concerning a ball at Netherfield.

  Then Lydia ran to them and curtseying quickly to the gentlemen, pulled at Elizabeth’s sleeve. “Come, Lizzy, come, Jane and Mary. We met Denny when going to Aunt Philips' and he introduced us to the new officer, Mr. Wickham. Come, you must meet him. He is absolutely dashing,” the girl squeaked excitedly.

  “Lydia, we are talking with Mr. Bingley now,” Elizabeth scolded the girl gently in a lowered voice.

  “That is all right, Miss Lydia. I think it is high time for us to go,” Mr. Bingley spoke easily and bowed his head deeply in front of Jane. “It has been pleasure to see you, Miss Bennet, in such an improved state.” He then looked at all the Bennet sisters and spoke. “You should expect the invitations to the ball in a few days. I do count on your presence, ladies, and yours, too, Mr. Collins.”

  Jane started to thank Mr. Bingley on behalf on the whole family, and Elizabeth couldn’t resist the temptation to glance once again at Mr. Darcy. The look on his face literally gave her shivers. He looked more than unpleasant. His face bore a scowl, which seemed a combination of anger, fury, hatred and something else she could not describe. He was not looking at her, or at anyone in their company. His eyes were set over her head. Elizabeth turned around slightly and followed his gaze, curious about the reason for this sudden change of his countenance. Mr. Darcy was clearly looking at the small group standing on the other side of the street. It consisted of her sister Kitty, Mr. Denny and a young, pleasant looking, tall man with a gentleman’s bearing about himself, who had to be the Mr. Wickham whom Lydia had mentioned.

  ***

  John Brooke could not help feeling disappointed. He arrived to the Philipses’ quite early, hoping for the opportunity to talk with her privately. The Bennets came early too, but it was impossible for him to approach her as that cousin of hers, Mr. Collins, did not abandon her side for one single moment. Was he courting her? The man seemed to be rather ridiculous, to say the least. Brooke could not imagine that Elizabeth accepted his advances. At last, Eliz
abeth managed to manoeuvre him to a card table, and then he expected she would sit nearby to give him the opportunity to talk to him. However, she chose the company of a young, handsome officer, to whom he had been earlier introduced, a Mr. Wickham. They were talking in the corner, or rather the man was talking, and she was listening attentively to him. Most assuredly, she must have forgotten about their conversation and her promise of a reading list.

  “Mr. Brooke, here you are,” Mr. Bennet came behind his back unexpectedly, interrupting his observation of Elizabeth talking with the new officer.

  “Mr. Bennet.” Brooke bowed seriously and shook the other man’s hand.

  “You know, Mr. Brooke, that you are the main reason for my attendance tonight,” Mr. Bennet spoke dryly.

  The tone of the elder man’s voice instantly suggested to Brooke that this conversation would be rather far from the usual drawing room chit chat. “You are responsible for the fact that I had to leave the quiet warm library tonight, dress myself up, and make my presence here.”

  Mr. Bennet reached into the inner pocket of his coat. “Here you are. My daughter, Elizabeth, asked me to attend and hand you this.”

  Brooke took the elegantly folded card wordlessly. He opened it to see it was indeed, in a tight, neat hand, a long list of books.

  “Your reading list, I believe?” Mr. Bennet raised his brow in the same manner Brooke had observed on Elizabeth’s face more than once.

  “I thank you, sir,” Brooke only murmured. For all his age and experience, he felt suddenly unsure and unequal in Elizabeth’s father's presence.

  “So you decided to ask my daughter to advise you on your reading education?” Mr. Bennet stated rather than asked, not looking in his direction. “Singular, I would say. Will you not agree?”

  “Sir, I can assure you my intentions towards Miss Elizabeth have been, and still are, nothing other than entirely honourable,” Brooke spoke hastily.