Chapter 6 Farewell, Little Sisters
“Oh, Mr. Bennet, you cannot mean it! You are taking my Lydia away to London without me? How long will she be gone?”
Thomas Bennet frowned. “Comport yourself, Mrs. Bennet. You will awaken the entire house with your groans.”
His tone was sharp, and she stopped to look at him. “Mr. Bennet, you are rude, sir.”
He snorted. “Am I, wife? And what are you? I say you are being unreasonable and childish. Comport yourself, or I will be forced to take action.”
She frowned. “Take action, sir? Whatever can you mean?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I do not know what I mean yet, but I will soon enough if you do not conduct yourself as befits a grown woman. Now, as I was saying, Mr. Collins and I are driving Kitty and Lydia to London. I will explain more when I know more, but for now, you will comport yourself as the mistress of Longbourn.”
He stood staring at her. She took a step back, then nodded. “Of course, sir. Am I allowed to say farewell to my daughters?”
“Of course you may, Mrs. Bennet. But only if you behave yourself as befits a gentlewoman. You will not upset my daughters. They are going to London to enjoy themselves, and I will not endure any hysterics from you.”
She drew a deep breath. “I understand.” She picked up her shawl, wrapped it around her shoulders, and began to descend the stairs. He followed her.
They found Mr. Collins in the breakfast parlor, with a full plate. He stood and bowed.
“Mrs. Bennet.”
“Mr. Collins.”
She curtsied and served herself. Bennet sat opposite, unfolded one of the papers, and laid it beside his plate.
He ate and read in silence. All the sisters came down together except Elizabeth, who remained above stairs.
Collins guessed she was probably avoiding him.
He cursed himself for his rashness. He had pushed her too far with his teasing.
They had not known each other three days, yet he was already speaking of marriage.
He had behaved like an inexperienced boy rather than a grown man with a mistress.
He wrinkled his nose. His mistress. What would he do about Elena? He had been visiting her for six years, but, to be fair, she had kept two other men as well. She was no true mistress, only a lightskirt. If he had a woman like Elizabeth, he would not need a mistress.
When he finished eating, he went up to fetch his heavy jacket.
The corridor stretched before him in two directions.
Elizabeth must still be in her room at the far end of the family wing.
Never mind. He would only be gone a week if he had anything to say about it.
He meant to see Lydia properly chaperoned, or he would see her admitted to a suitable school, even if he had to pay the tuition himself. He would not inherit a house of shame.
Two hours later, the Bennets and Mr. Collins arrived in London.
When the carriage pulled up to the Gardiners’ house, Collins was impressed.
Though near Cheapside, the neighborhood was elegant, with wide, clean streets and large, imposing houses.
Mrs. Gardiner was surprised to see so many unexpected visitors on her doorstep.
“Aunt Maddie, may we run up and meet baby Aimee?” Lydia asked eagerly.
“Of course, my dear,” Mrs. Gardiner replied with a smile. “Nanny Judy is with her in the nursery. Edward is napping, so try not to wake him, or you will be running after him all afternoon.”
“I would love that above all things, Auntie. Edward is the sweetest boy I have ever seen.” Lydia giggled as she and Kitty hurried upstairs.
Bennet turned to his sister-in-law. His face was grave. Mrs. Gardiner returned his gaze, a question in her eyes.
“Something is wrong, Thomas. I trust Frannie is well?”
He nodded. “I must speak with you, Madeline. May we go into the drawing room?”
She studied his expression a moment longer, then gestured for them to precede her. Her eyes flicked toward Mr. Collins.
Bennet cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Maddie. This is my cousin, Mr. Collins. William, this is my sister-in-law, Mrs. Gardiner.”
Collins bowed. “A pleasure, madam.”
Once seated, Bennet began. “I will not toy with your sensibilities, Maddie. My family stands on the brink of ruin thanks to Lydia.”
He told her of the wager and Lydia’s part in it.
“I thank heaven that both Collins and Lizzy learned of it before the neighbors did. Collins is to search out a ladies’ seminary while I find a school for Lydia.
” His face flushed slightly. “Madeline, I know I ask much, but may I leave Lydia with you until I find a proper school? She can watch little Edward for you. She loves children and will be well occupied. She must be constantly watched, or she will fall into more mischief.”
Mrs. Gardiner nodded slowly. “I could use her help, Thomas. I prefer Elizabeth, for there is no one so practical and level-headed as Lizzy, but Lydia will do well enough. She will be under Nanny Judy’s supervision, and Edward will keep her too busy for her to find trouble.”
Thomas laughed. “Is that so? You must be exhausted indeed if you can say that without a groan. I promise she will be placed within two to four weeks. I need time to find a school strict enough to keep her out of trouble.”
Madeline shook her head. “Do not search for a school. Lydia and I will manage. She is not bad; only very young and in need of guidance. And I could use the help.”
“You will write to me if things change,” he said. “She is too much for Frannie to handle. She may wear you down as well.”
“I doubt that,” Madeline replied with a knowing smile. “Frannie and I are very different women. Let me try. I will write if she proves too much.”
The following day, Bennet and Collins set out to tour schools. Each carried a newspaper with advertisements. They went in different directions to search for a school with a good reputation that Bennet could afford. After two weeks of inquiries, Collins found one they both approved.
They rode together to inspect it. When Bennet had paid the tuition, they returned to the carriage.
“Well, that is done,” Bennet said heavily. “You did well, Collins. A modest school with a fine reputation, yet affordable. Best of all, the headmistress is strict. Kitty will be safe there. I dare not leave her to her own devices with a regiment full of soldiers in Meryton.”
Collins shook his head somberly. “Being a father is no light burden, sir.”
Bennet looked him squarely in the eye. “Especially where handsome young men are concerned. Collins, you will take care in your dealings with my Lizzy?”
The man flushed. “Of course. I would never dream of hurting my cousin, sir.”
Bennet nodded but said no more. Kitty was to be admitted the following Monday. By then, the men would have been away from Longbourn for sixteen days.
Collins felt the press of time. He needed to be betrothed within two weeks and married by July or risk losing his living.
He meant to court Elizabeth and secure her acceptance swiftly.
He had hoped to marry and settle at Longbourn, but Bennet’s large family made that impossible.
He would remain in Hunsford until circumstances changed.
He was determined to put Mrs. Bennet in her place and not allow her to mistreat Elizabeth as she did now.
He had once dreaded marriage, but the prospect now held appeal.
As for Elena, she was a widow with other protectors. He would visit her once more, then break with her.
Elizabeth stood basking in the morning sunlight, with Jane, Mary, and her weeping mother on the front steps of the manor.
She was quietly relieved to see both Lydia and Mr. Collins leave Longbourn.
Papa had said they would be gone for a fortnight.
She took a long, luxurious breath. Two weeks of peace.
Jane wrapped her arm around their mother’s shoulders. “Come, Mamma. Let us go in and have a cup of tea. It will make you feel better.”
Mary shaded her eyes against the sunshine. “Is there something we have not been told? Why are you crying, Mamma? Will Lydia be gone long?”
Frances sniffed. “Lydia is to remain with Maddie to help with little Edward. Maddie is exhausted with the new baby and needs Lydia’s help.”
“And Kitty?”
Frances blew her nose. “Kitty is to go to school. Your father says you three girls have used your time well, improving yourselves, but Kitty has not. She is to remain in school for a year to better herself. He fears no man will take her as she is.”
Mrs. Bennet sniffed. “I must agree with him. Kitty is no beauty, she plays no instrument, has no conversation, and has nothing to offer a man. Your father is right to send her away. I commend him for his forethought. But I do miss my dear Lydia.”
Elizabeth said, “I missed my walk this morning. May I walk to Oakham Mount?”
Frances waved her away. “Run along. I prefer not to have you underfoot.”
Jane and Mary exchanged a look of concern, but Elizabeth smiled and winked. She was amused. She slipped away in her walking boots before her mother could change her mind. Once past the hermitage, she began to run.
Oh, to be free again, without fear of her cousin following. What a dreadful thing it had been to feel trapped in her own home. She ran all the way up the hill and stood beneath the oak trees, breathing in the cool air. The sky was bright blue, and the fields below stretched green and open.
“Miss Elizabeth, you look well this morning.”
She started and turned to find Mr. Darcy. “Sir, I did not see you.” She glanced around but saw no horse. “Did you walk here, Mr. Darcy?”
“No, ma’am. Ares is hobbled in the meadow yonder. He had a mind to graze.”
“I see. I will leave you, sir. I do not wish to disturb your privacy.” She turned to walk away.
“Miss Elizabeth, please. You need not go on my account. There is room enough for us both to enjoy the morning.”
She hesitated, surprised that he was neither proud nor reticent. As if reading her mind, he continued, “Miss Bennet, I wish to apologize for insulting you at the assembly.”
Her lips pressed together, her eyes narrowed. He waited, but she said nothing.
“I see that you are still angry,” he said quietly.
She remained silent, frowning now.
“Perhaps an apology is too little too late, but I am glad we happened upon each other. I behaved badly, and I wish to make amends.”
Elizabeth huffed. “Mr. Darcy, short of standing in the pulpit at church and making me a public apology, I cannot imagine what amends you could make. You humiliated me, declaring my lack of beauty in the public eye. It would only seem fitting to apologize in the same manner, though I would expect far more groveling before my injured feelings would be soothed.”
Her voice caught; she flicked away a tear. “You realize Miss Bingley is ecstatic over my humiliation. She made certain to remind me of it when she spoke to me in the churchyard and then again when she came for tea on Sunday afternoon. I am quite certain I will hear of it every time we meet.”
Another tear escaped. Her anger burned bright.
His jaw clenched.
She goaded him. “So this is not going as you thought, sir? Be grateful you are not being abased before all your neighbors as I was.” She straightened. “Excuse me. I will leave you now. I am too angry to mind my tongue.”
She turned and walked away.
Darcy stood rooted. He had never apologized to anyone in his life, not even his father or Richard. How dare this country girl throw his apology back in his face? He moved to the edge of the path.
Below, he saw her running down the hill, bonnet dangling by its ribbons, her hair loose and curling against her shoulders. She was an unaffected woman who spoke her mind. It was refreshing to meet someone who did not try to ingratiate themselves.
He stood there long after she was gone. At length, he turned toward the meadow to fetch his horse.
He was expected at Netherfield for a late breakfast, where he would endure Miss Bingley’s attentions.
His only respite from her was his morning ride, and this afternoon’s visit to Longbourn would offer further sanctuary.
He pursed his lips. Perhaps, under the circumstances, he ought to forgo the visit to Longbourn.
He shuddered. Absolutely not. Miss Bingley would believe he had stayed behind on her account, and she would hover over him with assiduous care for his every supposed need.
He considered Bingley’s attachment to Jane.
His friend ought not to ally himself with the Bennets for the same reasons Darcy himself would never contemplate such a connection.
The estate was insignificant, the family barely genteel and of low social standing.
The mother was vulgar, the heir a rake, and there were five daughters who would prove a burden either to him or to whatever fool might marry one of them, for none were likely to wed, having no dowry.
And the youngest, if Caroline spoke truth, was already on the brink of ruin, though with Caroline, one could never be certain.
He stopped to consider further. The heir would take Elizabeth for wife.
His actions at the assembly made his intentions perfectly clear.
This random thought caused his heart to thud, and his hands to clench into fists. Why should it matter to him if Miss Elizabeth married her father’s heir? It would be a perfect resolution to the entail. Yet the thought angered him.
He kicked at a stone and walked toward Ares. He did not understand his own mind.