Chapter 9 #3
Charlotte did not have time to reply before Kitty joined them and passed on the same news. By this time, they’d made their way to the breakfast room where Mama waited alone. Lizzy followed and hesitated in the hall, hearing her mother call upon Miss Lucas for her compassion.
“You must speak sense into your good friend, Miss Lucas. Mr. Collins is a good match for a woman who may not ever receive an offer of marriage, or hope to receive one.” She added in a melancholy tone, “Nobody is on my side, nobody takes part with me, I am cruelly used, nobody feels for my poor nerves.”
Charlotte’s reply was spared by the entrance of Jane and Elizabeth, who couldn’t remain eavesdropping about the hallway any longer. For one, Jane had spied her pacing when she returned from the still room, and two, her stomach growled, reminding her she’d not finished her morning meal.
“Aye, there she comes.” Mama declared in anger.
“looking as unconcerned as may be, provided she can have her own way. But I tell you what, Miss Lizzy, if you take it into your head to refuse every offer of marriage in this way, you will never get a husband at all.” Mama fluttered her ill-used lace handkerchief in the air.
“Who is to maintain you when your father is dead? It won’t be me.
I said I would never speak to you again and you will find I’m as good as my word.
” She turned to Charlotte. “I have no pleasure in talking with undutiful children. I’m sure if you were to receive an offer from Mr. Collins, you would not say no.
You are a dutiful daughter who does not wish to be a burden on her parents and would like to know her future is secure. Unlike mine.”
Lizzy picked up her cold cup of tea and sipped as though it was a fresh as when poured. Jane rang the bell for Hill to bring in a fresh pot while Kitty and Lydia’s attention flitted from Mama to Lizzy, back to Mama again.
“I’d be dutiful, Mama” Kitty dared to venture before coughing into her napkin. “You may talk with me.”
“I do not have much pleasure in talking to anybody. People who suffer as I do from nervous complaints can have no great inclination for talking. Nobody can tell what I suffer!” She tucked her handkerchief into the sleeve of her dress.
“But it is always so. Those who do not complain are never pitied.”
Lizzy caught Jane’s eye and rolled hers at their mother’s common complaint, that no one pitied her poor nerves.
All her daughters understood that no amount of reasoning or attempts to sooth would increase her irritability.
Her tirade continued until they were joined by Mr. Collins, who entered the room with a somber mien.
“Girls, please leave me and Mr. Collins alone.”
“That will not be necessary, Madam. What I have to say need not be private as I’m sure all here are aware of what transpired this morning.
I hope you will not perceive any disrespect to you and your family by my withdrawal of an offer of marriage to your esteemed daughter, Elizabeth.
” He allowed his gaze to roam over all the ladies present, ending upon Miss Lucas.
“I certainly meant well as my sole object was to secure an amiable companion for myself, and if my manner of proposing was in any way reprehensible, I apologize most profusely.”
He finished his speech and offered Lizzy a quick glance and she gave him a polite nod. There was no taking back the words spoken between them, but at least he realized his proposal had been reprehensible and she could acknowledge him with politeness.
With that, conversation returned, albeit stiffer and more formal given how uncomfortable everyone was in the company of a jilted lover and an angry mother.
Lizzy relished a profound sense of gratefulness that Mr. Collins barely spoke to her and instead, transferred all of his attention to Charlotte, who accepted them with polite graciousness.
~~oo0oo~~
The following morning, Mr. Collins was strangely absent.
Not that Lizzy minded. She and her sisters were off to Meryton as her youngest sisters were desperate to know if Mr. Wickham had returned and determine the reason for his absence at the Netherfield Ball.
Frankly, Lizzy could have cared less why Mr. Wickham dared not show his face, because she did not believe, for one minute, he’d had urgent business in London.
There was ill blood between him and Mr. Darcy and although Mr. Wickham had declared he would not be the one to run in the face of his old friend, he had tucked tail and scurried off at the first opportunity to prove his words.
As expected, they met up with him upon entering the village and he attended them to their aunt’s house. All the way there Lydian lamented over the loss of such an agreeable dance partner and demanded he not repeat that folly. Finally, Lizzy plucked up the courage to confront him.
“I also was surprised by your absence, Mr. Wickham, for I recall you saying you would not be driven away by Mr. Darcy. In fact, your exact words were, if he wishes to avoid me, he must go.”
“I find, at times Miss Elizabeth, that a good memory in almost inexcusable.” Although Wickham practically purred the words, she sensed a rare form of maliciousness emanate in her direction, “Very well,” he sighed out, “I will tell you that as the time drew near, I thought I’d better not meet Mr. Darcy.
To be in the same party for so many hours might be more than I could bear given his ill treatment of me after his honorable father died.
If I had attended, there may have been arisen such as scene.
.. Suffice to say, I could not bring myself to further subject the good people of Meryton to his vile temper and disdain. ”
Upon completion of their visit with Aunt Philips, Wickham and Denny walked them back to Longbourn and Wickham paid marked attention to Elizabeth, which she found unsettling.
A megrim, much like the one she’d experienced at the card party had returned along with the same feeling that something dark pressed upon her.
It may have been her imagination, but a taste of burnt food lingered on her tongue and given the proximity of Mr. Wickham both times doubled her discomfort.
Amiable on the outside he may seem, but she knew in her heart that darkness festered in his soul.
As Mr. Darcy said when they danced, Wickham was not to be trusted.
A quiet knowledge came upon her, much like an animal knows by instinct alone which human to trust and which human to flee.
She needed to project a facade of gaiety.
To think only pleasant thoughts of their walk and how she found enjoyment with her present company.
She understood, in no small way, the need to protect her mind.
A much-needed conversation with Papa was required.
He would know how train her to guard her heart and mind.
Maybe she should introduce Mr. Wickham to Papa and then canvas him later in private of his opinion.
However, introductions were postponed as not only was Mr. Bennet out with his steward, but a letter awaited Jane from Netherfield Park.
Upon reading it her face turned ashen in color.
She quickly collected her composure and, although she remained in the room with them, Lizzy knew her sister’s thoughts were miles away.
Three miles to be precise. Soon the officers bid their farewell and Jane invited Lizzy to follow her upstairs.
When they gained entry to their shared room, she took out the letter and said, “This is from Caroline Bingley, and what it contains, surprised me a great deal.”
Lizzy accepted the envelope, which contained a sheet of elegant, little, hot-pressed paper, well covered with a lady’s fair, flowing hand. She read a few lines and gasped.
“The pomposity of that woman! Declaring she cannot ‘pretend to regret any thing I shall leave in Hertfordshire, except your society’. And to call you her dearest friend. The woman wouldn’t know a friend if they kicked her in the shins while declaring it.
” She read further before emitting a very unladylike snort.
“This is rich. She hopes their absence can be alleviated by - where is that ubiquitous line? - ‘we may lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most unreserved correspondence’.” She threw the letter onto the bed.
“Jane, I give you leave to dislike Miss Bingley with all your heart. She is nothing but a pretentious prig.”
“Lizzy,” Jane chastised softly, “that is most unkind. She is letting me know her brother does not hold me with the same regard as I do him. She encourages me to find another beau without her brother getting in the way of my heart and seems most solicitous in her care of my feelings. She even hinted Mr. Darcy agrees with her opinions, and he is Mr. Bingley’s best friend.
Surely he’d know where Mr. Bingley’s true interests lay. ”
Never in her life had Elizabeth wished to impose her will on someone else as much as she did right at this moment.
How could Jane be deceived by one such as Caroline Bingley?
Anyone with eyes in their head could see Bingley was madly in love with her sister.
She paused in thought. Of course! They had seen how much in love he was and decided Jane was not of their sphere and hastened to remove him before he could declare himself to all and sundry.
And what part did Mr. Darcy play in all this?
There was no way Miss Bingley would willingly vacate Netherfield Park without ensuring Mr. Darcy was in tow.
Or had he led the parade himself? Given what Miss Bingley revealed in her missive of misery, Mr. Darcy most likely cautioned his friend to leave before he’d committed himself publicly, with no way out of an unwanted marriage.
She fumed silently while Jane carefully returned the letter to its envelope and placed it in her nightstand drawer.
Even without her abilities to perceive others emotions, she knew Jane’s heart was aching.
Unable to bear her sister’s suffering, she headed downstairs to escape the confines of Longbourn.
She stormed to the far end of her mother’s rose garden and paced.
Paced and fumed, and fumed and paced not even feeling the cold November air.
Her anger waffled between Mr. Darcy and Caroline Bingley.
She instinctively knew Mr. Bingley would defer to Mr. Darcy’s counsel long before he acquiesced to his sister’s demands.
Her anger mounted with each step. If she could only see Mr. Darcy face to face and tell him what she really thought.
A tingling sensation cascaded over and through her body and when she opened her eyes, she found herself in an unfamiliar room, standing before the man himself clad only in a pair of buckskin breeches and Hessian boots.