Chapter 12
As soon as she woke up, Elizabeth hurried to her father’s room. She was deeply worried since she had heard he had left in the middle of the ball, although her mother had claimed it must have been a scheme to escape the party.
The second part of the ball had been strange. She had danced the third set with Mr Collins, while her father, Mr Darcy, the admiral, and several officers had been missing from the ballroom for a long period of time.
The fact was puzzling, but when she had asked Mr Bingley, he had told her that her father was in the library in the company of Mr Darcy and the admiral.
That had put her mind at rest; however, time had passed with no sign of them.
By the supper set, none of the party had appeared, and there was much perturbation among the guests, until Mr Bingley returned with news about Colonel Forster and a few of his officers being called away on urgent business.
The absence of the officers was disappointing to many of the ladies and raised more questions for Elizabeth. Somehow, in her mind, the absences of Mr Wickham and Mr Darcy, at the same time, were connected, as unlikely as it seemed.
And then, the news of her father returning home — with Mr Darcy no less, in his carriage —stunned her. Yet, the admiral spoke of it lightly and assured her she had no reason to worry. For the first time since she had met him, she doubted the man’s sincerity.
Upon their return to Longbourn, her mother and sisters chatted endlessly, Mr Collins expressed his opinions about the party that nobody wanted to hear, but Elizabeth could think of little else but Mr Darcy and her father.
She visited the latter and found him peacefully asleep, with a glass of brandy and a cup of tea near his bed.
Feeling distressed, Elizabeth only slept for a few hours. The rest of the house was soundly asleep when she rose, and she found Mr Bennet in the library, sitting in his favourite chair.
“Papa, how are you feeling? Have you rested well? You look so pale. Should I fetch Mr Jones?”
“I slept, Lizzy. Please do not worry about me, child. There is enough you have to worry about.”
“What do you mean, Papa?” she asked with a surge of anxiety.
“We shall discuss it later. My head is still fuzzy, probably from Hill’s herbal tea. I have sent John to fetch me some coffee.”
“Papa, you are scaring me,” she said, taking a seat, but he said nothing. The door opened, and they expected John with the coffee; instead, Mr Collins entered, clasping his hands together.
“My dear Mr Bennet, Cousin Elizabeth, how fortunate to find you here! There is something I want to tell you—”
“Mr Collins, please forgive my rudeness, but I am in no disposition for conversation,” Mr Bennet interrupted him. “I just told my daughter the same. I felt quite ill last night, and I still am not completely well. I need some time to recover, in silence and solitude.”
Mr Collins seemed stuck between offence and astonishment and in need of air. Despite her concern and curiosity, Elizabeth supported her father and immediately stood up.
“Come, Mr Collins, we must leave my father to rest. If you need help with any matter, I shall be happy to assist you.”
Mr Collins reluctantly agreed to follow Elizabeth. In the hall, he seemed tempted to speak again, but she addressed him first.
“I know you plan to return to Kent tomorrow. I hope you will not postpone it. I am sure you will be thrilled to see Lady Catherine, and she will be happy with your company.”
“I would never dare postpone a plan approved by her ladyship. She highly disapproves of that! However, I still have to complete my assignment before I leave Hertfordshire. This is what I intended to speak to Mr Bennet about…and you. I spoke to Mrs Bennet last night, and I fear I might have raised some expectations that I cannot fulfill…”
“Mr Collins,” Elizabeth said decidedly, “I am in the position of being able to speak on my father’s behalf as well as my own, and I assure you there are no expectations that you need be concerned about.
It was a pleasure to have you as a guest, and we wish you a safe journey home.
I am sure my father will be pleased to receive a letter from you. ”
“Are you sure…I mean…I intend to call on Sir William…to speak to him…we agreed last night…”
Elizabeth watched the clergyman trying to keep his composure, and she pitied him for the disappointment he was about to suffer.
She understood his meaning very well; after he had arrived in Hertfordshire, he had spoken to her mother and made plans to propose to her.
However, the events of the last few days, as well as Elizabeth’s lack of encouragement and harsh manners, had likely changed his mind.
He probably doubted Lady Catherine de Bourgh would approve of her — which she knew to be true.
Apparently, the poor clueless man had taken Sir William and Charlotte’s politeness as encouragement, and he intended to propose to her instead.
Elizabeth had no doubt that Charlotte would refuse him; after all, they had known each other for less than a fortnight and had scarcely been in company.
No reasonable man would propose under such circumstances, and no woman would accept.
“I believe you are entitled to call upon anyone you wish to whenever you want, sir. You need not ask anyone’s opinion on your plans. Except for Lady Catherine’s, of course.”
“Cousin Elizabeth, your wisdom is much appreciated. Miss Lucas speaks highly of you, and now I can see why. I hope Mrs Bennet will not mind if I have breakfast with Sir William.”
“As I said, a gentleman in your position should make his own decisions,” she replied.
She was certain her mother would be devastated and angered by the notion he might propose to Charlotte and would do anything to prevent it.
Luckily, Mrs Bennet and her other daughters were still sleeping after the ball.
Mr Collins would likely return disappointed from Lucas Lodge, and they would have to bear his whining for another day and a half.
After Mr Collins left, Elizabeth returned to her own torment. Her father was not in good health and, more importantly, not in good spirits. Her intuition had not betrayed her — something had happened the previous night, and assuming what it could have been, she feared the worst.
Restless, she counted the minutes until her father would wake up, to resume their conversation. However, her mother and sisters woke up first, and breakfast was prepared. Mrs Bennet asked about her husband and Mr Collins and was displeased with the news about both.
When they gathered around the table, Lydia and Kitty started a discussion about the ball. Mr Bennet joined them, and the food was served. He was silent, while his daughters were chatting.
“My dear, is it true that you came home in Mr Darcy’s carriage?” Mrs Bennet asked.
“Yes.”
“I imagine it is large and elegant!”
“I cannot say. It was dark and cold, and I had a horrible headache.”
“Something strange happened at that ball,” Lydia interjected.
“You left, and then Colonel Forster left with all the officers! I mean — the most handsome of them. Harriet Forster did not know that her husband had left. We all wanted to dance with Wickham, and he suddenly disappeared too! What bad luck that was! There must be another ball soon. I shall ask Harriet to host one.”
“Lydia, I shall hear not another word about the officers, especially not about that Wickham fellow! Not now, nor ever! From any of you! Is that clear?”
Mr Bennet’s voice shook the room, and all the ladies stared at him, dumbfounded. Elizabeth had never heard her father shout at them or scold them with such severity.
“But Papa—”
“Not a word, Lydia!” he repeated, his voice lower but demanding.
“But why? You cannot just forbid us from speaking to somebody. That is not fair!” Lydia whined, supported by Kitty.
“Mr Bennet, the girl is right. You must tell us why. Such a demand is unheard of!”
“Why, Mrs Bennet? Because you and I and our daughters are a laughingstock among the officers and probably the entire town! Your favourite, Mr Wickham, calls you ridiculous and silly and laughs at you with the other officers. He speaks of your daughter in the most despicable manner. Is that enough reason? Fortunately, I hope the colonel will make sure we do not see him too often from this day forward!”
The silence that fell in the room allowed Elizabeth to hear her own heart beating. She noticed Hill and John watching from behind the door, obviously drawn by the raised voices. Her sisters and mother were all breathing irregularly, still in shock.
Mr Bennet put down his fork and left the table without another word. After a brief hesitation, Elizabeth ran after him. None of her sisters dared follow her.
“Papa?” she whispered from the door, watching her father rubbing his temples, his eyes closed.
“Come in, Lizzy. Sit down and close the door.”
“Papa, I do not know what happened, but you look very ill. I shall fetch Mr Jones.”
“Sit down, Lizzy! I am sure I look better than I feel. I shall tell you what happened, although I would give anything not to have to do so.”
He poured himself a drink, and Elizabeth frowned.
“Papa, you have barely slept or eaten. You should not drink at this early hour.”
“I shall need more than one glass to tell you what I must, Lizzy.”
“You may tell me anything, Papa. Whatever happened, we shall face it together.”
“I fear you will have to face it by yourself, Lizzy. As much as I would like to, there is not much I can do.”
∞∞∞
Several minutes later, the short yet dreadful narration ended, without Elizabeth having said a word to interrupt it. She needed a while to comprehend what her father had said. Astonishment, disbelief, and shame made her hands tremble, and she clasped them together.
“Why would they say such horrible things, Papa? They must know it cannot be true! I thought they were friends…”