Chapter Seventy-Three
Elizabeth could not help tears from rising in her eyes as she read Jane’s letter.
Mary, concerned, whispered, “Lizzy? Is everything all right at home?’
In answer, Elizabeth gave the letter to Mary and then buried her head in her arms.
My dear Lizzy,
I find that I cannot bring myself to marry Mr. Bingley and then demand that he give our parents three thousand pounds. How could any young lady do that to the man she loves? I cannot, and I will not.
I will write to the Gardiners at once and ask for their carriage to fetch me to London.
I had rather marry a man I do not love, than have the man I love regard me forever as a fortune hunter.
Our uncle will make it plain to anyone who asks for my hand that not only do I have no dowry, but it is far worse than that, for I actually have an immediate financial need that must be met!
How any man could want me at such a price is beyond comprehension, but I must do my best.
This has been a very difficult decision for me to come to, Lizzy; I hope that you will understand it.
I am very, very sad, but underneath that sorrow is a rage so great that I fear to let it loose.
How could Papa have put me in such a position?
! I do not know that I can ever forgive him.
And this is another reason for me to leave Longbourn at once; I fear that I will soon say terrible things to my father that can never be unsaid.
Your heartsick sister,
Jane
When she finished reading, Mary, too, had tears in her eyes. “What are we to do, Lizzy?”
“I know not,” Elizabeth said. “I wrote to Charlotte to ask her to have Mr. Fitzwilliam speak with Mr. Bingley, but that will not help if Jane is gone.”
“What does Charlotte say?” Mary asked, indicating the unopened letter on Elizabeth’s lap.
“Oh, I have not yet read it.” Elizabeth opened it and read aloud,
Dear Eliza,
I would be happy to have Reggie speak with Mr. Bingley, but alas! He has returned to London with his parents, and then will travel quickly to Matlock to prepare the estate for the arrival of its new mistress (me!).
I am concerned that the post will be too slow, so I will speak to my father and see if he will be willing to pay for a special messenger! I will write to him there at once and ask him to send a letter to Mr. Darcy or Mr. Bingley.
Now that I am engaged to a Viscount, I get a good deal of extraordinary treatment from my parents! I will ask about the invitation to Lady Catherine de Bourgh as well.
With love,
Charlotte
“Ma’am?”
Mary and Elizabeth, startled, both looked up. It was Maeve, the housemaid.
“Yes, Maeve?”
“Miss de Bourgh is here.”
Mary and Elizabeth hastily wiped their faces and did their best to look calm and collected, but Anne took one look at the two of them and demanded, “What is it?”
“It is nothing, Anne,” Elizabeth replied, conscious of the tear tracks on her face.
“It is quite obviously not nothing, Lizzy,” Anne replied.
“Just family troubles, Miss de Bourgh. Nothing you need be concerned with.” Mary spoke softly.
Anne hesitated. Finally, she said, “I know very little of how young ladies behave with one another, Lizzy, as you know. But I would like to believe that we are friends, and I hope that as such, you may confide in me, as I have confided in you. I can assure you that I am perfectly capable of keeping a secret.”
Elizabeth needed no further encouragement.
The entire story poured out, from her first learning the truth of the family finances; to her attempt to encourage Mr. Bingley to make her an offer, despite her lack of true feelings for him; to Jane’s falling in love with him; and then today’s discovery that Jane preferred to go to London and marry a man she did not love, rather than to appear a fortune hunter to the man she did love.
The only thing Elizabeth did not disclose was her own feelings – romantic fancies though they may be – for Mr. Darcy.
Anne listened in growing astonishment. “Your sister would marry someone she does not love, rather than ask Mr. Bingley for three thousand pounds? But that is absurd!”
“I understand why she feels as she does,” Elizabeth said. “But I wish instead that she would confess all to him and let him make his own decision.”
“She certainly should! Three thousand pounds is not a good deal of money, after all,” Anne declared.
“What! Why, Anne, it is a fortune!”
Anne shrugged. Then she lit up. “I have it! I will give your father three thousand pounds, and then your sister may marry whomever she pleases!!”
“You have three thousand pounds?” Elizabeth asked in disbelief.
“Well, not in my pocket just now, no. But there is a good deal more than that sitting in my mother’s safe, and it really is my money, not hers.”
“I cannot possibly take money from you,” Elizabeth declared. “It would be entirely wrong!”
“Then you are every bit as bad as your sister, then, Lizzy. You had rather stand on principle than have two people who love one another be wed.” Anne spoke very firmly, eyes blazing in outrage, hands on her hips.
Mary and Elizabeth stared at one another. It was Mary who nodded, and then turned to their guest and said, “You are right, Miss de Bourgh. My family would be everything grateful for your assistance.”