Lively Talents (Darcy and Elizabeth Variations)
Prologue
“Just think, Miss Lizzy, that could have been you, if you had not been so high-handed,” hissed Mrs Bennet in an indignant whisper as Charlotte Lucas reached the altar on Sir William’s arm and smiled at the eagerly waiting Mr Collins.
“You would have made a far prettier bride too than that plain, thin…”
Elizabeth Bennet shushed her mother with a warning inclination of her head towards Lady Lucas.
Mrs Bennet ought to have thought of the risk of being overheard, for Lady Lucas was scant feet away, sitting in the pew in front of them and beaming as her eldest daughter took her place beside her soon-to-be husband and the rector began to intone the expected words.
To Elizabeth’s great relief, Charlotte’s mother was too distracted by the proceedings at the altar to notice any unfortunate comments from her neighbours.
“Longbourn too, you would have had in time, if you had not let the Lucases get their hands on him,” Mrs Bennet mourned fretfully. “Now I must see Charlotte Lucas take my place in my own home. Oh, it makes me quite sick!”
“Hush, dear, or we will miss all the excitement,” said Mr Bennet from the other side of his wife, his playful expression showing that he had no intention of passing up an opportunity to tease her, even in the middle of a wedding.
“I have great hopes that my cousin Mr Collins will give us all some amusement of one sort or another, even today.”
With a quiet harrumph of discontentment with her husband, her second daughter, and the general situation, Mrs Bennet finally gritted her teeth and fell silent, allowing Elizabeth and the rest of the family to observe the ceremony in peace.
In truth, Elizabeth was no happier than her mother to see this wedding take place, although her reasons were very different.
Long a good friend of Elizabeth’s, Charlotte Lucas was a sensible, intelligent woman, or so Elizabeth had thought.
But how could such a woman as Charlotte bear to marry a man as foolish, pompous, and obsequious as Mr Collins?
Charlotte herself had tried to explain this to her friend, and Elizabeth had done her best to understand and accept her choice.
Many women did see marriage in the same pragmatic terms as Charlotte, but something in the harsh exchange of one’s entire self for social and financial security rankled Elizabeth’s spirit, especially since Mr Collins could offer little else.
He certainly had neither wit, nor sense, nor fineness of character.
How could Charlotte submit herself so utterly to a man she could not respect?
“There, ‘man and wife,’” muttered Mrs Bennet again, once the ceremony had reached its conclusion. “They are married. It’s too late for any regrets now, Miss Lizzy. Charlotte Lucas is Charlotte Collins, and I only hope it pains you as deeply as it pains me.”
“Ah, well, never mind,” remarked Mr Bennet with a resigned sigh. “That was not entertaining, was it? When Mr Collins took out a large puce-coloured handkerchief to mop his brow during his vows, my spirits rose, but then they were dashed. It was all very ordinary in the end.”
This time, Elizabeth simply pretended not to have heard either parent. Any response to her mother would only encourage further public rancour and the chance of offending the Lucas family, while answering her father would only goad her mother.
Whatever her mother imagined, Elizabeth had no regrets at all that Charlotte was the one now walking out of the church in Meryton on Mr Collins’ arm. It was simply a depressing spectacle.
Why must Mrs Bennet and half of the rest of the world believe that this absurd and seemingly unrewarding kind of marriage was all that Elizabeth should aspire to?
At present, marriage in general seemed a poor kind of deal for a young woman of good mind and strong spirit.
Her parents’ bickering and intellectually unequal marriage hardly inspired great hopes of nuptial bliss.
Even casting her mind over her wider acquaintance, it was hard to distinguish many pairings that Elizabeth did not regard with some hilarity, bemusement, or aversion. She supposed it was well enough if the spouses themselves seemed content, but often they did not.
As she followed her parents out of the pew, Elizabeth’s eye fell on her aunt and uncle, Mr and Mrs Gardiner, in the row behind them, and her mood and expression instantly softened.
“We shall take the children back to Longbourn,” Mr Gardiner said. “Sir William and Lady Lucas will not want so many little ones racing about Lucas Lodge, and I understand the wedding breakfast will be a quick affair.”
“Yes, Charlotte and Mr Collins want to be on the road to Hunsford early,” Elizabeth confirmed, smiling. “He is keen to introduce his new bride to his patroness, Lady Catherine de Burgh, without delay.”
Having been sitting with the Gardiners, Jane returned Elizabeth’s smile at this comment, and Elizabeth paused to let her aunt, uncle and cousins out ahead of her so that she might walk with her sister.
“It was a lovely service,” Jane said sincerely. “I thought that Charlotte and Mr Collins both looked very well, and I wish them every happiness.”
“As do I,” Elizabeth replied shortly but with feeling, withholding her private thought that surely no real contentment could ever be found in the company of a man like Mr Collins.
In front of them, Mrs Gardiner took her husband’s arm and murmured something that made him laugh and regard his wife fondly.
Even after more than ten years of marriage, they seemed truly happy in one another’s company.
The Gardiners might be the only sensible people she knew well where genuine love and respect existed between the spouses.
“Do not let Mother’s railing upset you, Lizzy,” Jane urged her, sensing her unspoken discontent. “She only wants us all to be settled and secure, even if it sometimes comes out in strange ways. I am sure you will find yourself a good husband in your own time.”
“Will I, indeed?” Elizabeth replied with a good-humoured chuckle. “Where am I to find the handsome, intelligent, and principled man who is the only kind who might tempt me into matrimony?”
“Would you not marry for love?” Jane asked her with some surprise, and Elizabeth laughed again.
“Oh, I want that too, Jane. I am so demanding in my requirements that I am bound to end up an old maid and so contrary that I might even like it better than being a wife.”
“You will not,” Jane disagreed swiftly, although with which part of the statement, Elizabeth did not know. “Look how happy Aunt Gardiner is with our uncle and their darling children.”
“Ah, the Gardiners are a rarity, I have already decided,” Elizabeth declared.
“We cannot judge by our aunt and uncle. Few people can expect their luck in marriage. For the rest of us, perhaps Charlotte was right and those who wish to marry ought to seize the chance when they can, regardless of mutual understanding or inclination.”
“Love is not so rational as you or Charlotte would like to believe, I fear,” her sister replied at once. Jane smiled gently and shook her head as she spoke, likely not taking her sister’s statements seriously. Elizabeth, however, was fully in earnest.
“Love is all well and good if it presents itself, Jane. I am not, however, willing to stake my future and my happiness on the appearance of something so ephemeral —”
Seeing the shadow that passed over Jane’s features, Elizabeth stopped.
Jane had not been quite herself since the precipitate departure of Mr Bingley and his sisters from Netherfield Park at the end of November.
Although she had tried hard to be in good spirits over Christmas and for Charlotte’s wedding, Jane was clearly pining for the amiable neighbour who had seemed to return her affections.
“Enough of love,” Elizabeth said briskly as they emerged from the church into the crisp wintry sunshine. “Now that Christmas, New Year’s Eve, and Charlotte’s wedding are over, you and I will soon be on our way to London with our aunt and uncle. Let us look forward to that instead.”
Jane smiled and nodded back without real conviction. Mr Bennet, however, who was lingering at the church door rather than joining the congratulatory throngs near the newly made Mr and Mrs Collins, gave out a loud groan on hearing his daughter’s words.
“Do not remind me of your departure, Lizzy. I shall not have a single rational conversation until you and Jane return. It will be all officers, dresses and dancing from your younger sisters and mother.”
“You still have Mary, Father,” Elizabeth reminded him, and their father responded with a humorous grimace.
“Ah yes, I shall have loud piano playing and cod ethics too. That will help me pass the time, although it will not speed it. Do not stay away too long.”
“You must be sure to call on Miss Bingley as soon as you can in London, Jane,” instructed Mrs Bennet, returning to her husband’s side. “Then Mr Bingley will know that you are there and —”
“The Bingleys do not live anywhere near Gracechurch Street, and they likely move in very different circles to our aunt and uncle,” Elizabeth pointed out swiftly, feeling for Jane. “It would be well to see them, but I don’t think we can guarantee it.”
“Just because you are determined to scotch your own prospects does not mean that your sisters must do the same, Miss Lizzy,” her mother replied crossly. “I am sure your aunt and uncle will lend Jane their carriage to call on Miss Bingley. Once she has seen Mr Bingley again —”
“Come along, dear,” sighed Mr Bennet, interrupting his wife’s directives to her eldest daughter, who looked distinctly relieved by the intervention.
“Let us get on the road to Lucas Lodge. We are expected at the wedding breakfast, and given my relationship to Mr Collins, I fear we cannot escape it.”
Once their parents were gone, Elizabeth squeezed Jane’s arm for comfort.
“I wish Mother would not keep talking of Mr Bingley,” Jane admitted, stating only what Elizabeth already knew.
“Likely, he has no particular regard for me and never did. I would be foolish to think otherwise. I should like to see Miss Bingley, of course, but I know how busy her life in London is, and, as you said, Gracechurch Street is far from Grosvenor Square.”
“You are not foolish,” Elizabeth reassured her, feeling keen indignation at the disappointment of Jane’s hopes.
“It seemed to all of us that Mr Bingley liked you very much. His departure surprised everyone greatly. Personally, I blame his sisters and his ill-mannered friend, Mr Darcy. We know how much they all disdain the countryside and everyone in it.”
“Do not be too unkind, Lizzy,” Jane admonished her, trying to smile. “Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst have been good to me, especially when I caught cold at Netherfield Park. And while Mr Darcy is certainly not so open and amiable as Mr Bingley, I dare say there must be much good in his character.”
“Very well, I shall leave you to your over-charitable views of Mr Bingley’s sisters, but as for Mr Darcy, ‘not open and amiable?’ Ha!
” Elizabeth retorted with a shake of her head.
“Jane, you give him much too much credit. I feel quite justified in saying that Mr Darcy might be the most unfriendly, arrogant, and disagreeable man I have ever met.”
Jane shook her head.
“We do not know him,” she insisted to Elizabeth. “If he were as bad as all that, a man like Charles Bingley would not be his friend.”
Elizabeth only shrugged. There was no point in arguing with Jane’s quiet but steadfast determination to believe the best of people, especially those connected with the man who had so firmly drawn her affections.
Poor Jane! How sad to fall in love only to have one’s hopes and dreams dashed by an unreliable lover.
Yet every poem, song, and novel encouraged young women to focus their full energies on the pursuit of a husband.
What else was there in life for Jane, or any of the other Bennet girls, without fortune or title? How depressing and futile!
As they strolled together towards Lucas Lodge, Elizabeth continued wondering to herself that so many people still extolled the joys of falling in love and marrying, given all the attendant trouble and misery this seemed to bring.
If only there were another way for a woman to live respectably, it would seem a far more sensible arrangement…