Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
E lizabeth awoke with a jolt; the feeling of a restless night clung to her. Her thoughts, consumed by the events of the previous day, had haunted her sleep. As Jane slumbered beside her, Elizabeth stared at the ceiling and in the faint morning light, studied the cracks in the plaster, seeking familiar images in the lines as she had as a child. She quickly found the rabbit shape that always appeared to her first, but then her mind began to wander.
What a strange predicament she had found herself in! She had gone from being in love with Mr Darcy to despising him with every fibre of her being—and now they were friends! How was she to navigate this new, unexpected state?
He is prideful, yet showed warmth to my father. He is ill-mannered and belittled my family, yet played sweetly with my cousins and showed compassion to me and for my family. He is a conundrum!
She turned on her side, pulled the blankets over her shoulders, and tried to warm herself from the draughty room. It was much too early to be awake; even the servants were likely still abed. Yet despite her attempts to will her eyes shut, her thoughts persisted, circling in relentless repetition. After much tossing and turning, she recognised the futility of her efforts.
With sunlight now faintly streaming in through the window, Elizabeth slipped from the bed and went to her dressing table to start readying herself for church.
She looked in the mirror and gasped at her unruly hair. Her loose plait had come undone, and now her dark tresses were in such disorder that she resembled one of her father’s hounds. And on a Sunday, when she was bound for church services and thus fated to see Mr Darcy—her suitor turned enemy turned friend. She could not help but laugh at herself, knowing he likely would be thanking his lucky stars that he did not marry such a lady. Using some water, brush and comb, she somehow managed her hair into something more tolerable.
Deciding not to summon their maid, Elizabeth opened her wardrobe and stared at her gowns. She pulled out two of her favourites and held them up to the light before putting them back and shaking her head in frustration. Typically she did not put so much thought into what she would wear for Sunday services, but this morning she desired to make a greater effort. She chose not to question the reason for it.
Unsatisfied with her own closet, she recalled a green dress of Kitty’s that had looked particularly flattering on her and made her eyes stand out. Kitty’s height and figure was closest to her own, and Elizabeth was certain the gown would fit her. She will not mind. I have certainly lent her enough of my gowns and bonnets, and she owes me five shillings besides!
Opening the door to her sisters’ room, she found them all deeply asleep. She tiptoed in and rummaged through their closet to find the desired gown. Once she found it, she stealthily grabbed it and made her escape back to her own chamber.
Elizabeth pulled on the dress and evaluated herself in the mirror. She looked quite pretty, if she did say so herself. It made her wonder if it was a common feeling, this desire to look one’s best to a past suitor, whether or not he was an enemy or friend. It seemed a natural desire to present oneself well when meeting an old love and meant nothing more, she assured herself, reasoning that no lady would wish a former beau to find validation for withdrawing his affections based on her looks.
It mattered little though, she told herself, for he had been utterly confident in ending their relationship all those years ago. He may have thought her pretty then, but now she doubted he noticed her appearance at all.
Jane stirred, bringing Elizabeth back to the present. As always, her sister looked angelic in repose. Elizabeth was happy for Jane and her impending marriage to a worthy man, but she felt a touch of melancholy that this would be the last time they would leave for church from the same house. Their family circle was about to change completely. Jane would be settled at Netherfield, only three miles from Longbourn but nevertheless, things would never quite be the same.
Elizabeth sat on the foot of her bed and smiled fondly at her sister, who looked at her with tired eyes. “You look lovely, Lizzy,” Jane said gently.
“Thank you. Come let us get you ready, sit up and I will brush your hair. You must let me help you dress for one of our last mornings in the same room together.” She gave her elder sister a sly look. “I cannot think that Mr Bingley will do as good a job as me, but I will try to teach him what I can. ”
Jane laughed and sat up to comply with Elizabeth’s request.
An hour or so later, breakfast eaten and Kitty’s annoyance assuaged, Elizabeth and her family spilled from the house for the short walk to the church. A light layer of snow crunched softly underfoot as she walked past the familiar bare-branched trees that lined the path. Gazing ahead, the old stone building came into view; carriages and curricles were still drawing near when she saw Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy standing in the churchyard. A flutter shot through her stomach and she only dimly heard Lydia teasing Jane, “Your Prince Charming awaits.”