Preference & Neglect
Prologue
12 December, 1811
Longbourn, Hertfordshire
“Eliza, look at this.” Charlotte extended the newspaper she had been perusing toward her dearest friend.
Elizabeth slowly turned her face away from the window and the snowy winter landscape beyond, a stark contrast to her ill-fitting black gown. It had been all white and grey and dismal for more than a week, but the Lucases were doing their best to cheer the bereaved Bennet family. Her eyes briefly landed on Maria Lucas, who had coaxed a little laughter from Lydia and Kitty in one corner of the room, before Elizabeth finally fixed her dull gaze on Charlotte.
Tears welled in her red-rimmed eyes; Elizabeth brushed them away before they could fall onto the newspaper as she glanced down at it and read aloud from one of the illustrated notices. “Sanditon, the jewel of the Sussex Coast.”
“No….” Charlotte pointed to the advertisement in the column beside it, but her friend did not appear to hear her.
“Mamma would be proclaiming that a little sea-bathing would set her up forever.” Elizabeth’s lips quirked upward and she exhaled sharply through her nose. It was the closest thing to a laugh she had managed in the fortnight since Mrs. Bennet had been carried off by a severe fit of nerves. She nearly smiled as she ran her fingers over the quaint little picture of the cliffside village perched above a coastline spotted with fashionable pairs of pedestrians.
Across the room, Mary Bennet padded over to the pianoforte and began to play a mournful tune, leaving Lady Lucas to turn to Jane and Mr. Bingley, telling them for the tenth time that week how fortunate it was that they had come to an understanding at the Netherfield ball, the night before the Bennets’ tragic loss, else the gentleman would not have been able to propose. Jane responded with the same tight-lipped attempt at a polite smile as Elizabeth showed Charlotte; thankfully, Mr. Bingley had risen to the challenge of handling the situation with tact and compassion.
Charlotte tried again, certain that what she had read would be just the thing to divert Elizabeth. “She must be a brazen creature, to publish such a scandalous request.”
A twinkle of amusement lit in Elizabeth’s eyes as she read the advertisement. “I do not know whom I pity more, the lady for her uninspiring lover, or her betrothed for being pledged to a lady who is so dishonest and disdainful.”
Charlotte beamed at the spark of interest she had aroused in her friend. “We are not all romantic creatures, you know. I would have happily taken Mr. Collins off your hands, if he had… well, a lady might have other reasons for accepting a man. She may have been forced, or perhaps she was deceived in his character. She cannot be impoverished, if she is offering compensation; perhaps she is simply not of a literary turn of mind? We cannot all be poets.”
Elizabeth read over the advertisement once again, clearly relishing the peculiarity of the post on offer. “Are you suggesting I answer it?”
Charlotte made a droll face. “If you do not, I will. Neither of us need the employment as much as the novelty of such a thing. I think you are better suited to it, for you are as fanciful as you are clever. And would not the frivolity of it present a pleasant distraction? We could keep it secret, just between us.”
Elizabeth twisted her lips to one side and then the other, as she often did when considering oddities – which was a favorite pastime of both young women. “I cannot quite like the dishonesty of it.”
“Pah! You might comfort yourself that he is a dreadful ogre.”
“And this is meant to be an inducement?”
“Oh, yes. I have often heard you boast your fondness of whims and foibles, and every sort of folly.” Charlotte lowered her voice as she turned serious. “I know it has only been a fortnight, but I should like to see you laughing again. And it will not be the work of a moment – we shall have to submit a writing sample and then wait to hear if it was selected above every other submission.”
“I should not wish to steal the opportunity from somebody who needs the funds.”
Charlotte shook her head; she could see she was making some headway in persuading her friend. “You might ease your conscience by donating the earnings to charity; does not your Aunt Gardiner support several worthy causes in London?”
One of Elizabeth’s eyebrows twitched in a feeble imitation of her characteristic arch look. “As if Lydia would not pilfer every last coin.”
“Then you shall be feeding the haberdasher’s many children, in a roundabout way.”
At last, Elizabeth let out a breathy laugh. “Oh, very well. I shall draw my inspiration from dear Jane’s felicity, and pen a little something after supper. I will bring it to you on my walk tomorrow.”
Charlotte smiled. “I did not realize you had continued your routine of walking in the morning, but I am glad of it.”
“I have not – not in a fortnight – but to please you, I shall exert myself.” Elizabeth gave Charlotte an earnest look and clasped her hand, something like hope hanging between them.