by Robin Helm
Jane raised an eyebrow at her husband. Charles nodded, bowed to Elizabeth, and turned away from them.
Elizabeth smiled. Married only two hours, they were already communicating without words.
The ache in her chest at the thought of losing Jane deepened. She took two rushed steps towards her sister and folded Jane into her embrace.
From this day forward, Charles would always come first to Jane. And even though Jane’s new country residence would be a mere three miles away from her former home, the Bingleys would reside there for only part of the year, electing to spend a good portion of each winter in London.
Guilt nagged at Elizabeth. Her musings were selfish. Jane’s happiness should be more important than her own, especially today.
She pulled away from her sister and wiped a tear from her cheek. “You deserve the best of everything. I am sure you and Charles will have a wonderful life together.”
Jane radiated joy. “I only wish you could be this happy, as well.”
Elizabeth forced a smile. “Perhaps someday, dearest.”
“Will you come upstairs with me for a moment, please? There is something in our bedchamber I must retrieve before we leave.”
Elizabeth followed Jane up the stairs and into their shared room.
No… now this room would be hers alone.
Elizabeth straightened her spine. There would be no more tears from her today, at least not until she was alone.
Jane closed the door, walked over to the bed, and picked up a pair of gloves.
Why would Jane need help retrieving something she seemed to have left there on purpose?
“Lizzy,” Jane said. “Charles spoke to Papa, and he has given his permission. Will you come to us in February, after you visit Charlotte in Kent? I am afraid of how much I will miss you if you do not come.”
Relief coursed through Elizabeth. Her worries had been silly; of course, she would always be an important part of her sister’s life. She nodded. “I would love to.”
“I will need your advice. You must help me decorate Charles’s new townhouse.”
Elizabeth laughed. “You do know it is your townhouse, too.”
“Our new townhouse.” Jane seemed lost in her thoughts for a few moments, and then she smiled. “It seems so strange to say it aloud.”
Elizabeth asked hesitantly, “Will anyone else be coming to assist you?”
“Lizzy, I have been a simpleton.” She raised her head. “Had I only listened to your warnings about Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, their snub would not have come as such a shock, casting a cloud over our happiness today. Even now, a small part of me is trying to make excuses for their behaviour.”
Jane’s eyes filled with tears. Elizabeth retrieved a handkerchief from a drawer and handed it to her sister.
Jane continued, “When I saw Charles yesterday, he had already admitted defeat, but up until the moment Papa walked me down the aisle and I noted their absence, I trusted my new sisters would forego their journey to Mr. Hurst’s family, only for a few days, in order to attend their brother’s wedding.”
Jane blotted her cheeks. “The part of me that knows this was done out of spite is growing stronger every minute. Charles insisted he must do what was best for himself and us, whether his family approved or not. He vowed that if they did not sanction our marriage by attending our wedding, they certainly would not be welcomed to our home until they have apologized to us both.”
“Good for Charles!” Elizabeth exclaimed.
“But this situation distresses me so very much.” Jane sighed deeply. “You may have noticed I hesitated when it was my turn to say, ‘I do’?”
Elizabeth had noticed, and it had surprised her. “I thought you were so overcome with joy, you could not speak.”
“No.” Jane said a bit too loudly. “And I was not having an episode of nerves, like Mama told half the party downstairs. I knew that the moment I said, ‘I do,’ the breach that has developed in the Bingley family would become permanent.”
“Oh, Jane!” Elizabeth took hold of her sister’s hand and squeezed it.
“But I am selfish. I could not envision a future for myself without Charles, so I made my vows. But Lizzy, now I wonder… Should I have said, ‘No’?”
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open. She hesitated a moment to recover. “Listen to me, Jane. When we first met Charles, I could never imagine his acting against the wishes of either of his sisters, or those of his friend. But the hope of someday marrying you had greatly improved Charles’s character. He matured into a man who would risk anything to gain the affections of the woman he loved.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “If it helps, it is my opinion that it was Mr. Darcy who instigated it all. Once the sisters are away from him for a while, they likely will come around.”
“Why would Mr. Darcy have done such a thing?” Jane shook her head. “If one overlooks his unkind comment about you before we were introduced, I have never seen him in such a dark light as you have. Neither does Papa. And Charles has forgiven his absence at our wedding, so I have, as well. Apparently, Mr. Darcy had important business in London, and it could not be delayed.”
“Mayhap Charles is right.” Elizabeth did not think so, but she did not wish to argue the point and put an even greater damper on what should be the happiest day of her sister’s life. “Dearest Jane, you and Charles belong together. I promise you will be very happy. You should not allow his family — or yours, for that matter — influence what you both know is right. Please do not permit anyone to ruin the joy that should go along with your love match.”
“Thank you, Lizzy. You always make me feel better.” Jane changed the subject. “Charles has said he will arrange to send our carriage for you the first Monday of February.”
Elizabeth giggled at Jane’s over-exaggerated accent on “our.”
“Then it is settled,” answered Elizabeth. “Believe me, anticipating my visit with you and Charles in February might be the only way I can survive the many ridiculous speeches I expect to hear from our cousin, beginning the very instant I arrive at Hunsford Cottage.”
⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟
~Saturday, December 28, 1811
As the coach made a turn leading away from the main road, Sir William Lucas turned towards Elizabeth and Maria Lucas. “This lane leads to Hunsford Cottage, the home of my daughter and her new husband.”
Elizabeth smiled politely. Did he not know that when her cousin, Mr. Collins, had visited the Bennets, he had never stopped speaking about Hunsford Cottage, running on about how his home was separated only by a narrow lane from Rosings Park, the grand estate owned by his benefactor, Lady Catherine de Bourgh? Mr. Collins had tried and failed to lure one of the Bennet girls to marry him, and her good friend Charlotte Lucas had accepted his proposal.
Elizabeth examined the view out the window, watching the passing scenery in an attempt to remain alert. Not for the first time, she wished Charlotte’s father and sister had delayed their visit to Charlotte a few days instead of planning to leave the very day after Jane’s wedding.
The past month had been absolute Bedlam at Longbourn, beginning with Netherfield’s ball on November 26th, followed by Mr. Charles Bingley travelling to London to accomplish some “urgent business.” Once Caroline Bingley’s letter to Jane had been received, which arrived that same day, the Bennet family — except for Elizabeth — was certain Mr. Bingley would never return. Jane’s hopes had been crushed, as were their mother’s, and it took all of Elizabeth’s energy to keep her mother from having to use her smelling salts more than once an hour, and to keep Jane from falling into melancholy.
As Elizabeth had predicted, before that week was out, Charles had completed his transaction and returned to Netherfield, quickly followed by a visit to Longbourn, where he proposed to Jane.
During his interview, their father had discovered that Charles had been in London to sign the contract to purchase a townhouse in London. Apparently, in his mind, owning property in Town would better prove
to Mr. Bennet that he could properly provide for Jane.
A hearty family celebration had followed, during which plans were made. Since it was necessary that Charles travel northward to take care of business and see his family for the whole month of January, he wished that Jane should accompany him. They decided to marry as soon as the banns were read, sending Mrs. Bennet into an intense, though out of necessity, quite short, fit of nerves. When she recovered, the house was put into an uproar between decorating for Christmas and planning Jane’s wedding.
The ceremony and wedding breakfast the day before had been a success, after which Jane and Charles left for their new house in London, to spend a few days before heading north.
At least, Elizabeth had been so busy last night, and so fatigued, she had given little time to grieving the loss of Jane as she packed for this trip.
Elizabeth was pulled from her memories as the coach turned again, this time into a courtyard adjacent to a handsome cottage next to an immaculate garden. Mr. and Mrs. Collins promptly came out to greet them. The building and grounds were exactly as she had pictured it, proving her cousin’s description had been wholly complete, down to the very last window and shutter.
Half an hour later, after listening to her cousin prattle on and on, Elizabeth followed Charlotte Collins into the small, yet serviceable bedroom that Elizabeth would occupy for the next four weeks.
Elizabeth judged her dear friend had taken pains to provide Maria’s and Elizabeth’s rooms with a hint of the things they enjoyed so they would be more comfortable. Maria’s bedchamber had a series of flower watercolours adorning the walls. In Elizabeth’s room, a small painting of a Hertfordshire landscape, which Elizabeth remembered Charlotte had done herself, hung above the mantelpiece, and a small vase of dried roses were displayed on the dresser, similar to the pattern in the carpet and bedcovering.
Charlotte walked deeper into the room, surveyed it with a critical eye, and then turned to Elizabeth with an expectant expression.
Elizabeth smiled. “The house is lovely, Charlotte. You have accomplished so much in so short a time.”
Charlotte beamed. “I have enjoyed adding a hint of my own partialities to every room, except my husband’s study, of course, though I have done a bit of rearranging there to enhance his ease of use, as well.”
“Unquestionably, Mr. Collins appreciates your transforming his house into a home.” During his tour, he had detailed several changes Charlotte had made, but it seemed it had only been the ones of which his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, had approved, for he noted the great lady’s comments on everything he pointed out.
Elizabeth wrapped her arm around the bedpost and leaned against it. “And how do you like being a clergyman’s wife?”
Charlotte met Elizabeth’s gaze. “I adore having a home of my own, Lizzy. The parishioners have been very welcoming, and it is a joy to visit with them and anticipate their needs.” She hesitated. “Lady Catherine is a most attentive neighbour to us, as she is to all the area.”
Knowing Charlotte so well, the slight rise of her brows as she pronounced the last told Elizabeth that the great lady was perhaps a bit too attentive at times, but instead of being annoyed by the behaviour, as Elizabeth would have been, Charlotte found it amusing.
Elizabeth held back a smile. “Undoubtedly, your father and sister are impressed with your new situation. It seems the perfect situation for you, dear Charlotte. I am very happy for you.”
Charlotte approached her. “Thank you, Lizzy. I find I am quite content.” She paused. “But you must be exhausted from travelling, so I will leave you to yourself and allow you rest now. Sally will be available if you need anything, just ring.” She touched the bell-pull by the hearth. “I will see you at supper.”
“Before you go…” Elizabeth removed her bonnet and pelisse, laid them on the dresser, and turned her back to Charlotte. “Will you unfasten my buttons, please?”
Charlotte complied.
Because the Collinses had only one maid, Elizabeth refused to distract her from her duties by asking her to help her undress when Charlotte was at hand. The Bennet daughters had always shared a lady’s maid, and to speed things along, they often helped each other dress. She knew the Lucas family had been in a similar circumstance, so it seemed natural to ask Charlotte to do her this service.
Charlotte laid Elizabeth’s travelling gown and outerwear over her arm. “I will take these to Sally to remove the dust from the road.”
“There is no rush, Charlotte. I will not travel again until the third of February.”
Gratefulness shone from her hostess’s eyes. “It is so good to have you here, Lizzy. Enjoy your nap.”
⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟
~Monday, December 30, 1811
“Darcy?”
Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy feigned sleep, hoping his cousin would think he had been lulled by the rocking of the coach.
A boot pushed at his leg. “Darcy! Wake up.”
With his own first name being the same as his mother’s family name, most of his relations called him by his last name, Darcy, and he used their first names — otherwise things could get rather confusing with all the Fitzwilliams around.
“Stop kicking me, Richard.”
“I did not kick you. You should know the difference by now, Cousin. That was a shove,” Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam chuckled.
Darcy tapped his hat upwards, off his eyes. “Whatever you might call it, I would be grateful if you would desist. You might not wish to savour these last few miles’ worth of peace before being forced to endure Aunt Catherine’s interrogations for a fortnight, but will you at least allow me that enjoyment?”
“Ha!” Richard chuckled. “With that attitude, it serves you right.”
Obviously, his cousin was not going to give up. Richard never could sit quietly for more than a few minutes at a time. “What serves me right?”
Richard gestured toward the window. “You missed catching a glimpse of one of the loveliest creatures I have ever seen. I wonder who she is.”
Darcy huffed out a breath. “You sound like Bingley.”
Richard raised his eyebrows. “Did not Bingley marry recently?”
“When he was single, he could not stop himself from uttering that very phrase every time he met a young lady.” Darcy sniffed. “And yes, against my advice, he has married the most recent loveliest creature he had ever beheld, one who will surely make him miserable.”
“Why is that?”
“She and her mother were only after his fortune.”
“Are you certain? I passed him on the street yesterday. He seemed blissfully content.”
Darcy stared up at the ceiling. “I am certain, in time, he will regret his decision.”
“According to you, all ladies are only interested in gentlemen for their fortunes.”
Most were, as he had discovered just after he had inherited one of the most prosperous estates in England. The moment he stepped foot into any sort of gathering, whether in London or the country, marriage-minded mamas and their single daughters descended on him, swooping in for the kill. The only women he could trust were his cousin Anne, his Aunt Adelaide, his housekeepers in Town and at Pemberley, the wives of friends, and… well… Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who had never forced her attentions upon him, even when they had spent several days together in the same house. His hostess at the time, Miss Caroline Bingley, was an entirely different story.
Drat! He had made up his mind not to think of Elizabeth again, but she had wormed her way back into his thoughts once again. Well, at least he had made it a whole ten minutes this time—his best effort yet.
Richard continued, “I, however, believe there are love matches. Look at your own parents and mine.”
“My parents and yours were married first. Their affection for one another came later.”
Richard harrumphed. “I will trust what I saw with my own eyes. Bingley is happy.”
“Imagine what you will.” Darcy shook his head. Bingle
y was a fool, as was Richard, apparently.
“When was Bingley’s wedding?”
Darcy sighed. “Two days ago.”
Richard reclined against the seat back. “You did not remain in Hertfordshire long.”
“I did not attend.”
“You did not bother to be present at the wedding of your closest friend? How could you—”
“I could not leave Georgiana alone in London. Your parents did not return until yesterday.”
“You do not trust the new companion my mother found for us…what is her name?” Richard snapped his fingers. “Mrs. Annesley.”
“After Mrs. Younge’s betrayal at Ramsgate? Are you mad?”
Richard frowned. “I suppose you are right. But I thought you and my mother checked with Mrs. Annesley’s prior employers—”
“Yes, yes. The companion’s references bathed her in a most radiant light, but if she had not expected they would be complimentary towards her, she would not have given us their names in the first place. Until she proves herself trustworthy, Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley will stay with me or your parents, where someone can keep a watchful eye on them both.”
Richard raised one eyebrow. “And you could not have taken them with you to Bingley’s country house, I suppose?”
“No, I could not. Bingley understood my reasons.” If he told Richard his objection, would his cousin borrow a horse from Aunt Catherine’s stables and ride directly to Hertfordshire to take care of the matter personally? He had threatened to do so after that same good-for-nothing swine had tried to elope with Georgiana last summer.
“Ah, but I do not understand, and I am her half-guardian.” He waited a few moments. When Darcy did not elaborate, Richard said, “You know very well that I will hound you without mercy until you do explain fully, so you might as well give it up now.”
Darcy flared his nostrils. “When I visited in the autumn, I recognized a man from our past in Meryton, the village located one mile from Bingley’s house. I felt it best not to expose her to such a reprobate.”
