Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
E lizabeth stared out at the steady rain on Monday morning and felt deep regret that it was to be yet another day she was kept inside—away from Mr Darcy. Her sadness felt like a crippling exhaustion. Hoping to prevent Mrs Collins from ordering her down for breakfast, she asked Hayes to carry a message to her mistress about a headache that kept her abed.
Hayes did later come to inform her when Mr Darcy and his cousin called that morning, but she was too fatigued to perform false contentment—even if only for a quarter hour. She had no desire to see him in company. She longed to see him, but avoiding the Collinses was key to her composure. Only five days until I am in London.
She did wonder at the excuse Charlotte might have offered the gentlemen but felt Mr Darcy would assuredly interpret any deception. Though surprised by her accusations in the glade, she thought him perceptive and certainly not disbelieving. Did he worry for her when she was not present for their call? Had whatever reassurance Charlotte provided been persuasive?
Lying in her bed that night, she imagined him riding to the parsonage by moonlight and climbing the trellis outside her window to take her away. She practised her shocked expression when he climbed through her window and quickly smothered her unruly laugher in her pillow at the girlish fantasy.
Charlotte woke much earlier on Tuesday morning than was her wont. She had not slept well, and the weight of her anxiety sat heavily in her chest. More than once in the night she had found herself short of breath, anticipating the confrontation she would instigate with Elizabeth. Each time she practised her forthcoming conversation, she saw the possibility of being outwitted. Her friend’s cleverness must be taken into consideration.
It was another dreary, rainy morning, which kept Elizabeth from walking out once again. Charlotte immediately attended Mrs Montgomery and Hayes, explaining that a tray should not be sent to Elizabeth’s room that morning. She must break her fast with the family. Charlotte could delay the conversation no longer.
Elizabeth appeared weary when she arrived at the table. She spent more time moving food around on her plate than eating. When Mr Collins finished his second plate of food, he stood and nodded to his wife, expecting her to follow his instructions. Leaving the two ladies alone, he was summoning her to do his bidding—now.
It took some five minutes for Charlotte to muster the strength to begin a conversation. She had rehearsed it in the night, but in the face of Elizabeth at her table, her confidence wavered. She took a deep, fortifying breath and let it out slowly. “I am sorry you have been kept indoors once again. Perhaps the rain will abate for our visit to Rosings tomorrow.”
“Yes; I do hope the rain will subside soon.”
“My husband tells me it shall be a grand celebration. I wonder if her ladyship will serve four or five courses?” Charlotte said lightly, making every attempt to avoid eye contact.
“A celebration?” Elizabeth looked a little lighter at the thought. “How lovely! It will be delightful to leave the house. What occasion shall we be celebrating?”
“Miss de Bourgh’s engagement.”
Elizabeth stiffened, her mouth falling agape for a moment with no less horror than Charlotte had expected. Charlotte looked down, not wishing her smirk to be seen.
“Miss-Miss de Bourgh’s engagement? I was not aware that she—”
They both turned to the sound of the door closing, cutting off Elizabeth’s words. Hayes had entered the room and stood to the side of the buffet, eyes wide with visible interest in their conversation. Charlotte shook her head at the maid to dismiss her and turned back to Elizabeth, only to see her eyes cast down at the table, her spirit visibly deflated. Charlotte had to shake off the momentary distraction in order to continue the conversation.
“I may go to Rosings today to practise a new song on the pianoforte,” Charlotte resumed. “I am sure her ladyship will want some entertainment after dinner.”
“Yes, quite right.” Though Elizabeth made every attempt to appear calm, she was breathing more quickly, and Charlotte could hear her foot tapping furiously under the table .
Charlotte wanted to be certain there was no confusion. Being explicit was the only way to ensure the correct response. She could not look at her as she said it, but say it she did, “Yes, it will be a festive evening. The joining of two grand estates like Rosings and Pemberley must be thrilling to anticipate. I daresay Mr Darcy will be one of the wealthiest men in England. I wonder if they will create an earldom for him?”
Elizabeth rose promptly, unable to look at her friend. “Perhaps. You will have to excuse me, I appear to have a headache again. I did not sleep well last night.”
“You do look a trifle pale,” Charlotte said with false concern. “I shall have Mrs Montgomery send up a posset.”
Elizabeth murmured something unintelligible as she took her leave, and Charlotte congratulated herself for successfully achieving the task assigned to her. Mr Collins need not know the method she had employed.
The result of the conversation would certainly erect an obstacle between the two young lovers. Elizabeth would keep to herself while at Rosings. Even in the absence of a true celebration at the dinner, Elizabeth would never be so improper as to ask about the engagement, nor would she be eager to wish the couple joy. Charlotte hoped it would reduce the likelihood of her approaching Mr Darcy during their visit. She also considered that Elizabeth may feign a headache to leave the dinner early. Better yet!
Elizabeth was not eager to remain at the table with Charlotte, but neither was she eager to be alone in her chamber once again. To think she had escaped to Kent for some peace and quiet !
Just as she was about to gain the staircase, she turned and moved her feet towards the kitchens instead. She could apply to Mrs Montgomery for something to settle her aching head and also remain out of the way of her maddening hosts. Unfortunately, she found only the maid. Hayes curtseyed and asked if Elizabeth needed anything.
“Thank you, no. I was looking for Mrs Montgomery.”
“Sorry, miss. She is off to the village, something ’bout the butcher, I believe.”
Elizabeth nodded and began to leave.
“The butcher can’t be bothered over the needs of the parsonage when Rosings Park is preparing a menu for a wedding, I s’pose.”
Something in Hayes’ smile rang of satisfaction, and Elizabeth’s stomach dropped to her feet. She could not flee fast enough.
The act of crawling into her bed and pulling the quilt over her head made Elizabeth ache for Jane. How dearly she wished she was curled up next to her sister, trading secrets rather than hiding from her own foolishness. If she closed her eyes tightly enough, she could gain her composure once again, could she not?
But it was a misleading notion. Nothing in Kent would calm her now.
Charlotte took a deep breath of satisfaction knowing all had resolved as she desired, and looked forward to the quiet day ahead. Hands shaking, she picked up her embroidery and attempted to begin stitching once again, but it was no use. She was not created for this type of deception. A single tear fell down her cheek as she silently mourned for the past .
Yet crying only served to make her feel weak, and a heated internal battle began. She hated feeling weak—it supported her husband’s claims that she was unworthy and incapable. Carving out her own future, that is what she was doing. Her decision had been sound, and she was decided not to allow even the anxious voices in her own head to change her mind.
Even in her eagerness to quiet the concerns whirling in her mind, Charlotte was unable to feel confident that the conversation with Elizabeth would provide the results she and her husband desired. They needed her mute and subdued, but Charlotte was worried she had only fuelled an ember of frustration that could be coaxed into a flame, destroying them all. What if Elizabeth wished them joy at the dinner? What if she asked Mr Darcy about his betrothal directly?
Charlotte climbed the stairs with renewed conviction and knocked on Elizabeth’s door. When she was acknowledged, she entered, finding a rather sad version of her formerly high spirited friend sitting up in the bed. Her hair was wild, her eyes swollen, and the bedclothes pulled up to her chin.
A wave of sympathy coursed through Charlotte. Eliza was melancholic, and it was her doing. She nearly turned around to abandon her task but forced herself forward. She imagined her husband’s satisfaction when he discovered her usefulness, and the thought of his approval bolstered her courage. “Elizabeth, I fear there is more bothering you than a headache. Shall I have Mr Collins call an apothecary?” Charlotte sat on the edge of the bed and tried to seem at ease.
“No, no.” Elizabeth said, appearing quite defeated. “I never should have come here.”
Charlotte began to rub Elizabeth’s arm and whispered, “I am sorry you feel that way. Though you may be right, I do not see how we can return to the past to change our decisions.”
Elizabeth grunted in response and turned away from Charlotte.
“I do wonder if any of your hurt has to do with Mr Darcy? I have noticed you seem rather more...friendly...than I remember from last autumn. I hope his attentions have not been untoward?”
“Pardon?”
“Soon after I arrived in Kent, I began receiving reports from locals that Mr Darcy has a penchant for giving young ladies in the area special attention. In fact, I was concerned to bring you here based on what I had learned. These rich young men do tend to act in accordance with their own pleasures.”
Very faintly Elizabeth replied, “My uncle has always said the wealthy tend to be whimsical in their civilities.”
“Apparently, Lady Catherine turns a blind eye to his behaviour, and has even been known to pay off those affected by his dalliances. It is all, you know, to ensure he does his duty by Miss de Bourgh. So, I want to be sure he has not injured you.”
Elizabeth’s response was enough to confirm some truth to her speculations. Her breath was coming in and out quickly, and her eyes were wide with agitation.
“Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth dropped her head into her hands, and although Charlotte could not hear, she imagined she must weep. She laid a hand on her friend’s arm. “Oh, my dear.”
“I have nothing to reproach him for,” Elizabeth said, her tone muffled by her hands. “You need not be alarmed on that account.”
“But there was an attempt? ”
“Of course not!” Elizabeth raised her face. “He is simply my friend...or so I thought. He would occasionally walk with me in the mornings when our paths would cross.”
Charlotte began to rub her back. “Was that all? Just walking?”
Elizabeth looked away from her. “I feel such a fool.”
“Had you begun to care for him? Perhaps as...more than a friend?”
At length she admitted, “A little. To have the attentions of such a man as Mr Darcy...to imagine him under my power? Yes, I suppose it may have gone to my head.”
Even with her previous suspicions, it was a surprise to Charlotte to hear her friend admit to having feelings for any man. But to set her cap at Mr Darcy! It was shocking, indeed. To think she would aim so high! Eliza had certainly set herself up for disappointment.
Charlotte focused on the movement of her hand, rubbing back and forth. “Does Mr Darcy know of your…interest?”
Elizabeth shrugged, not looking in Charlotte’s direction.
“I may be a married woman, but as you know, my marriage was decided upon with little thought for romance. I know not about such things, but perhaps you simply got carried away…I could never look at your father again if I knew I had failed to keep you—”
“It was only a kiss, Charlotte.”
A kiss! Charlotte remained calm and answered only with a pat on her friend’s back. “I see.”
“I cannot be at Rosings to celebrate his betrothal to Miss de Bourgh—I simply cannot! It is in every way impossible to imagine.”
“I am very sorry you feel so. Should you like to go home?”
Elizabeth looked at her then, hopefulness piercing the despair in her gaze. “I would hate for you and Mr Collins to think me ungrateful for your hospitality...but, yes, I think I would like to return home.”
Charlotte knew Mr Collins would be infuriated to receive Lady Catherine’s ire when it was made known that Elizabeth had fled Kent early, but the idea of having control of her home once again won over. She would have to think of a creative way to convince him that assisting Elizabeth on her journey was in Miss de Bourgh’s favour, and their favour too, if Elizabeth had been successful in her efforts to charm Mr Darcy. “I shall speak to Mr Collins and have Hayes prepare your trunk. All shall be arranged.”
Elizabeth woke early the next morning after little sleep. Her eyes were heavy and swollen from crying, and she felt changed from the woman who arrived in Kent a short five weeks prior.
She took her leave of Mrs Montgomery early and privately. The two embraced and wished each other well. Hayes had ensured all her things were packed and brought downstairs before Mr and Mrs Collins awoke.
Mr Collins was as he ever was—spouting platitudes in a limitless manner with nary a listener about. Charlotte was cold to her throughout the morning meal, the warmth of their conversation the previous day long forgotten, it seemed. Elizabeth was disappointed to see it; she had dared to imagine that her friend, the Charlotte of old, had returned.
The goodbyes were devoid of emotion and hardly polite. Elizabeth was relieved that Mr Collins had elicited the aid of one of his parishioners to drive her to meet the post coach.
“Lady Catherine has been all condescension to you,” Mr Collins said. Being that it seemed he might launch into yet another of his harangues about her ladyship’s beneficence, Elizabeth quickly interrupted him.
“Thank you, Mr and Mrs Collins, for your hospitality. Please also convey my thanks to Lady Catherine for her kindness and welcome to Kent.”
“Cousin, I am certain this visit has been good for you. When you injured your family by way of refusing me at Longbourn these many months ago, it was God himself who told me, he said, ‘Collins, you must arrange for your cousin’s salvation’. And, I am pleased to have made some progress in the improvement of your character during this visit.”
And so, with a nod from Mrs Collins, Elizabeth took her place in the gig and waved goodbye to Kent.