Chapter Ten #2
To distract Mary from the cold, for the temperature seemed to plummet with each incremental lowering of the sun, Elizabeth settled into talk of the renovations on the cottage. Recalling her conversation with Mr. Darcy, she told Mary about Gavin’s idea for the table.
“I saw the designs. I was there when he showed them to Papa this morning.”
Elizabeth hadn’t realized he’d completed the design so quickly. “What did Papa say? Does it look good?”
“I don’t know much about furniture making, but Papa seemed impressed.” Mary smiled, a rare sight and one that improved her features tremendously. “Gavin certainly was enthusiastic, though.”
“It is fascinating how bright his eyes get when he talks about furniture making,” Elizabeth noted.
“It is. They’re nice eyes.”
Elizabeth let out a gasp of mock startlement. “Mary Bennet. How can you say such a thing when you already have two men nearly courting you?”
Mary turned red again and Elizabeth considerately turned their talk to bookshelves.
They reached Goldfinch Cottage before the sun set, but near enough that Elizabeth worried they’d walk into an unsettled house.
Guilty, she began organizing her apologies as they went in and handed over their outerwear to Sarah.
Thanking the maid, Elizabeth squared her shoulders and strode into the parlor.
Four pairs of eyes greeted her, but none of them appeared worried.
If anything, the parlor held a cheerful air.
Her father and mother shared the sofa, Mr. Bennet reading and Mrs. Bennet sewing.
Kitty and Lydia sat in the two chairs before the fireplace, which they’d pulled closer together, as were their heads, but when Elizabeth came in, they broke off whispering.
Lydia jumped to her feet, Kitty a hairsbreadth behind her, and rushed at Elizabeth, babbling, “Kitty and I are both engaged. I’m marrying Mr. Wickham and Kitty is marrying Captain Carter. I think I got the better man, even though I’m marrying a lieutenant and Kitty is marrying a captain.”
Mary squeezed around Elizabeth, making her realize she’d stopped in the doorway.
Lydia threw her arms about Elizabeth and squealed.
“Aren’t you so happy, Lizzy? Isn’t it exciting?
Me, marrying before you, and such a handsome gentleman, who you were sweet on, but he wants me, and hopes we shall be married only a week behind Jane, which is nearly as good as before her.
” Lydia stepped back to look Elizabeth in the eye, a slightly vindictive gleam in hers.
“But I am sorry I stole Mr. Wickham from you.”
At Elizabeth’s side, Mary said, “My best wishes to both of you for your happiness.”
“Thank you,” Kitty said with a slight blush.
“Yes, thank you, Mary,” Lydia echoed, giving Mary hardly a glance before turning back to Elizabeth. “Lizzy?”
Elizabeth turned to Kitty. “That’s marvelous, Kitty. Captain Carter seems like a wonderful gentleman.” Having already worked out when Captain Carter had begun to show interest in Kitty, and impressed by his thoughtfulness in bringing teacups, Elizabeth meant her words.
“And?” Lydia demanded, hands on her hips.
Elizabeth looked up at her tall, pretty, very young seeming sister. “Lydia, are you certain you wish to do this? You’re only fifteen, and…and I’ve heard some things about Mr. Wickham.”
Lydia tossed her curls. “I’ll bet they come from Mr. Darcy or the people who work for him.”
Elizabeth frowned, realizing how that sounded, no matter that she felt Mr. Darcy and the Murphys were reliable. “Well, yes, but—”
“I don’t want to hear it, Lizzy.”
“But, Lydia—”
“But nothing. I’m going to marry Mr. Wickham and I don’t want to hear Mr. Darcy’s lies about him.”
“I think you should hear them anyway.”
Lydia whirled to face the sofa. “Papa, Lizzy’s trying to spoil everything.”
Elizabeth looked past her. “Father, I really believe she should hear what I have to say.”
Mr. Bennet studied Lydia for a moment. He glanced at his wife, who shook her head, then turned back to Elizabeth. “If Lydia is old enough to wed, she is old enough to make up her own mind.”
Elizabeth stared at her father in surprise. “But Papa—”
“Elizabeth, no,” Mr. Bennet cut in firmly. “You will not say another word about it in front of your sister.”
Lydia leaned forward and in a low, almost hissing voice spat out, “You’re just jealous.”
Elizabeth stared at her sadly.
Lydia harrumphed. With another toss of her curls, she said, “I’m going to our room to sort my ribbons. Come on, Kitty.”
Kitty gave an apologetic shrug and followed Lydia as she stormed out.
Elizabeth turned to her parents. “Surely, you wish to know?”
“Mrs. Bennet?” her father asked.
Elizabeth’s mother frowned in thought, then turned to Mr. Bennet. “I believe it’s best if we judge Mr. Wickham on what we’ve seen of him, rather than on what others report.”
Mr. Bennet turned back to Elizabeth. “There you have it.”
Elizabeth shook her head. Unable to think of anything more to say, and exceedingly annoyed her father had elected now to begin respecting the opinions of her sister and mother, Elizabeth said, “Excuse me,” and retreated to the entrance hall.
It was too late for a walk, but there was a cracked old bench in the garden. Despite the cold, she could sit there until her temper improved. She redonned her outerwear and headed out into the darkening evening.
She sat unhappily. How could her father refuse information that was relevant?
She considered asking the Murphys to repeat what they’d told her to her father, but it didn’t seem right to place them in the middle of a family dispute while they tried to work on the cottage.
She thought about going to Netherfield to ask for Mr. Darcy’s help, but couldn’t imagine him rushing to Goldfinch Cottage to confront her father over Mr. Wickham simply because she asked.
Still, maybe Elizabeth should ask him. She must do something. She couldn’t simply let her sister marry a man who appeared increasingly to be a scoundrel.