Chapter Ten
T hat night, Elizabeth's spirits could only be described as exultant .
“A hundred and fifty pounds!” The brightness of her smile had not diminished as she climbed into bed, very late .
“It is almost two o'clock, Elizabeth — are you not exhausted, dearest?” replied Jane, her hair already plaited and her head already on the pillow.
“Yes, I suppose that I am tired, but there is so much to be done, so much we can do now. We will show the ton. The likes of Miss Bingley must be made to regret their dreadful arrogance. They are not truly superior — it is only that they have money and connections that make them think they are. Not even superior to the good, honest-hearted farmers or…or charcoal men around Longbourn.”
“Lizzy, what can you be talking of? Who is it you are trying to show — and what do you mean for us to show them?” Jane's speech was slow and a little slurred with sleepiness.
Elizabeth arranged her reticule, filled with more money than ever before, on the bedside table where she would see it first thing upon awakening, and then lay down. “I mean, dearest, most brilliant and excellent sister of mine, that your wounded heart will soon be mended by means of this odd revenge. You were nothing but trusting loveliness, and were hurt through no fault of your own but because certain acquaintances of ours deemed us unworthy. Too lacking in both fortune and connections, if Miss Bingley's remarks are anything to judge by. Well, she is to be proven wrong. A hundred and fifty pounds may quickly become a fortune in your hands, and if irresponsible fools have no care for anything but playing cards and emptying their family coffers, then there is no superiority in them.”
Jane forced her heavy lids open. “Oh, Elizabeth. No, Lizzy, no. I will not deny that my heart…my heart,” she spoke with difficulty, “has not gone untouched, but I would not desire to cause harm to anyone merely because I have been made unhappy. It was not Mr. Bingley's fault that I had no defence…that I esteemed him so well as I did.” She paused, and a mixture of weariness and honesty bade her add, “So well as I do.”
“It is not causing harm — it is demonstrating to the whole lot of them, who are each as dreadful as the other, that their spoiled and selfish lives are not without consequence.”
“You liked Mrs. Houghton well enough, Lizzy. Is she not rich and well-born?”
“Mrs. Houghton is an exception to almost everything. I like her tremendously. I do not mean her — she is not fool enough to want to beat you at cards like those this evening. She as good as commanded us to call on her one morning this week. I think that we should.”
“Where do you envisage this ending? If we further our acquaintance with Mrs. Houghton, what then? You would have me play cards at every opportunity?”
“If I thought you disliked it I would not even suggest it, but Jane, dear Jane, do you not see? A hundred and fifty pounds sits beside our bed. Tomorrow or the day after we may spend fifty of those pounds on clothing and still have a hundred pounds remaining for you to stake at whatsoever game you choose. I do not have your mind for numbers, but to my way of thinking, a hundred pounds may be made to grow very quickly indeed if Miss Bingley's boast and Mr. Eckworth's tale are to be believed. If you sit at a table where even fifty pounds is wagered and there are a large number of obscenely wealthy people, like Mr. Darcy for instance, what sum might you come home with? What difference might that make to us Bennets at Longbourn? You could dower yourself.”
“Dower… myself !”
“Yes.”
Miss Bennet closed her eyes. “I prefer to believe that, had Mr. Bingley truly returned my regard, my lack of dowry would have made no difference.” She was silent for a long moment and then added, “I do not think I can dwell on this any longer tonight. I must sleep.”
Her younger sister leant across and sweetly kissed her forehead. Jane smiled at the affection but did not open her eyes .
“Good night, Jane.”
“Rest well, Lizzy. I do like to see you so happy. It would be wonderful to be of use to our family — do not think I am ignorant of that.”
The following morning at breakfast, the housekeeper presented Miss Elizabeth with a letter .
Elizabeth laid down her knife immediately and took it. “It is from Charlotte! I can see it at a glance, so well do I know her hand.”
“I suppose you will now wish to stay in from visiting the park with the children in order to read it, Lizzy,” smiled her aunt .
“Certainly not! I gave my word to Ned that I should carry him to see if there was any ice on the lake and I mean to keep my promise.”
“I do not think he would hold it against you, my dear niece,” said Mr. Gardiner, who was eating a hasty breakfast before he departed to a warehouse. “We tend to wait until our children are at least two full years of age before we bring up the subject of breaking solemn oaths and the like.”
“I would hold it against myself. Charlotte's letter will still be here in an hour or two. One never knows — older siblings may inform Ned in years to come that Lizzy Bennet broke a solemn promise and then I should never be able to show my face here ever again. The park and an icy lake it must be.”
“I applaud your honour, niece. I will promise you a roaring fire when you return, before which you may read at your leisure. There is no need to go out again today, is there? Jane wishes to remain at home in case Miss Bingley returns her call, I understand.” Mrs. Gardiner's tone did not precisely convey disapproval of her possible caller, but neither was it approving.
“No, but we must visit Mrs. Houghton on Friday, I think — I am afraid you will be torn away from watching the street during calling hours that day, Jane, to pay a call of our own. Tomorrow we might go shopping.”
Ned, bundled in shawls by his nursemaid, was duly carried to the park by Elizabeth, who pointed out many of its virtues for his edification and delight. He was largely indifferent to the sight of the lake and the process by which winter changed liquid into solid. He did, however, enjoy taking a strong grasp of his cousin's gloved finger, and inserted it into his mouth to bite down upon with vigour.
An hour later, the young lad was handed back to his nursemaid and Elizabeth went into her aunt's parlour to read her letter in front of the promised fire .
Lucas Lodge
My dear Eliza,
It was a great delight for us here to read your last letter announcing your safe arrival in London. Knowledge of your well-being must always bring us happiness. Papa is of the opinion that Town life must surely bring great benefit to you and your sister, and Mama is relieved that you have encountered no highwaymen on the road nor any other ruffians of that nature. She was distressed to read in the paper of some incident on the Great North Road and had so feared calamity coming your way that she has asked me each morning since if I have heard from you.
Papa was obliged to forbid Maria from reading anything of the same ilk to my brother, whose fascination with masked larceny borders upon the improper. John, if you please, thinks to be an outlaw of that nature far more preferred a prospect than to be the mere son of Sir William Lucas. I am inclined to think that it was Papa's offence at this that led to his edict. He is, as you know, a most indulgent father — which accounts for Maria's surprise at being spoken to sternly. She was comforted therefore when my own circumstances led to Papa's great pleasure and restored him to joviality .
It is difficult to properly communicate to you, my dearest and oldest friend, the nature of my circumstances that so gave pleasure to my family. I do not say that I see no pleasure in them myself — I do, just not of the sort you would have me feel.
You are clever, Eliza; you have guessed it even before I write it, I am sure of it. I did not tell you before you left for London, even though I might have done so with Mama's leave, but I felt it better to wait until settlements were arranged and the first banns were ready to be called.
In short, I have received and accepted a proposal of marriage from Mr. Collins. We mean to be married soon, in less than two weeks, in fact, and then we travel to Hunsford and my new home .
Will you wish me well, Lizzy? I know your view on love being so essential in a marriage, and in the face of my advancing years and the burden I am already upon my family, I have disregarded the charming ideal which you hold so fiercely. I do not require romance, which is fortunate, for I am not to have it. I want only a home, a secure home, and the means of some independence, which I will have. I am to have two servants and my own parlour to sit in. Beyond that, in a misty future some years from now, there is the hope I have of proximity to my family once more, but for your sake, Eliza, I dread that coming day.
I have one request, and it is that you might travel to see me in Hunsford very soon. I need no honeymoon period and it pains me that you will not be in the church to see me wed. I would, therefore, like it above all things if you would be the first guest in my very own establishment. You may be assured that neither Mr. Collins nor I will be stinting in our hospitality, and if the letter I received from Lady Catherine de Bourgh is any indication, the company we keep will be varied and interesting enough to please you. Save up your news from London for me, Eliza, and say only that you will come in person to Kent and relate it to me yourself. Your letters are always charming but cannot possibly bring so much pleasure as you do with your presence.
It is perhaps whimsical of me, but this evening I am in a strange mood. I will therefore sign myself one last time a s
Your friend ,
Charlotte Lucas.
Shocked and unhappy, Elizabeth rose from the stool she had drawn near the hearth and went to find Jane. Predictably, her sister was curled up on a window seat watching the road.
“Jane! You will not believe what Charlotte has to tell in her letter.”
“I hope I should always be able to trust her word.”
“I meant it is worthy of incredulity, dearest, not that I believe her to have turned liar while I am gone.”
The strength of her sister's language caused Jane to turn in surprise. “Well then? What can it be that has upset your peace? Lady Lucas is not ill, I hope."
“No, no; I gather that Her Ladyship is well. You will never guess so I shall tell you. Charlotte is to be married!”
“Indeed! I am not surprised that anyone should wish to marry Charlotte — she is a fine young woman. Who can her future husband be, though?”
Lizzy waved the letter. “Would you care to guess?”
Doubtfully Jane answered, “At present, I can only think of two gentlemen to whom it might distress you to see your friend married. I am not sure I ought to name either.”
Surprised, Lizzy sat down. “It is Mr. Collins.”
Her sister nodded gravely. “I am sorry that you are troubled by it, but if Charlotte Lucas is content to marry him, I must wish them well.
“But she cannot love him, Jane. She owns that in her letter. How can she shackle herself to so ridiculous a man as that and abandon all hope of happiness in marriage?”
Jane held up a placating hand and left the window to sit beside her sister. “Lizzy, do calm yourself. If Mr. Collins was free to ask her, then Miss Lucas is free to accept him. Charlotte need not live an unhappy life, you know, merely because her ideals are different from yours.”
“He is ridiculous .” Elizabeth reiterated, bluntly.
“He is respectable,” Jane replied softly. “If that is what Charlotte Lucas desires as Mrs. Collins, then that may well fulfil her hopes of a contented alliance.”
“Why should she settle for contentment when she could love and be loved as she deserves?”
“She is loved by many — that will not alter, will it?”
“You know that is not what I mean.”
“Nevertheless, Kent society is as capable of holding her in affection as the society in Hertfordshire. She has the love of her family and friends at present and is happy. Why then may she not continue to be happy in that same state? ”
Elizabeth let out the long breath she had been holding. “Must you be so rational?”
Jane smiled. “Forgive me. I am attempting to see things from your friend's perspective.”
“She invites me to visit her in Kent. Charlotte writes with great persuasive skill that because I will miss her nuptials I must receive her hospitality.”
“When is the wedding?”
“Near the beginning of February, by my reckoning. She did not divulge the date — perhaps Mama or Lydia will send us an account with more details. At the very least, Lydia might like to tell us what everyone wore, so there is hope that she might.”
“So you would perhaps intend to visit in March? ”
“If I go, I certainly do not desire to intrude too soon after they arrive. Charlotte will like to set up her household properly.”
“She will be an excellent mistress of any house.”
“That goes without saying. She has excellent sense, which is why it pains me so greatly that she makes such a…such an asinine decision now!”
“You do not mean that, Lizzy — do not be unkind. I daresay she feels the need for your friendship now more than ever. Particularly if she means to abandon hope of romantic love.”
“Yes, yes. You are right — I do not mean it.” A thought occurred to her and she suddenly said, “Who was the other gentleman?”
“Hmm?” Jane rose and went to the window again at the sound of wheels on the cobbles outside. Not seeing what she had hoped for, she returned to sit beside her sister.
“The other gentleman that might upset me to learn that Charlotte was marrying him, or whatever it was you said. I am becoming convoluted. Perhaps I ought to take another walk in the park. Poor Knowles. ”
“Oh, I see. Is it important? You need not mind it, you know. Perhaps it is none of my affair.”
“ Jane .”
“I had thought, perhaps Mr. Wickham.” Quickly she continued, “I had not seen any indication of regard on his part, however, that justifies the possibility. That said, it is not for onlookers to evaluate regard, I suppose.”
“Mr. Wickham!” exclaimed Lizzy. “I had not even thought of him since I wrote to Lydia.”
“Perhaps I am wrong then, and you would not have been upset.”
“You think his absence from my thoughts is evidence that I am not wildly in love with him?”
“It is not for me to tell you how to love, but if I am to compare it to my own experience, then…then yes.”
Elizabeth was silent at this. She recognised what it cost her sister to speak so plainly. A few moments quietly passed and Lizzy eventually said, “I suppose Miss Bingley has not called?”
“I am beginning to be afraid that you are correct concerning her regard for me.”
“If I am correct, it says more about her character than it does of you.”
“I have been thinking, Lizzy, while I watched from the window.”
“What philosophies have you dwelt upon?”
Jane smiled and shook her head at the tease. “I have no desire for revenge, nor do I desire to be the means by which you take revenge on my behalf. However, your remark about the possible assistance we might give our family has given me much to consider.” Jane did not fidget as she spoke; she remained still and statuelike, seated elegantly on the sofa. “If we were to take that money and multiply it many times over, we might make a material difference in our lives. It is not a wrong thing, is it, to stake fairly what we already possess and to then receive what others have equally put forth? We need not ruin any one man but…but to play in a larger group — it could be decidedly profitable.”
“Mrs. Lambeth invited us to a card party, did she not?”
“She did. Perhaps we might go. You will stay with me, Lizzy? I have thought that perhaps vingt-et-un might be prudent, particularly with a large party — it is easier to count, you see, if more people are playing. ”
“I will stay with you, and I will keep my promise to collect the filthy lucre from the table to spare your compassionate nature from trying to return it to its previous owners. I will also use every power at my disposal to excite the interest of every nabob or ancestrally wealthy card player and send them in your direction. ”
“Oh, Lizzy! What heavy solemnity I might now be feeling if you had not come to make me smile. You make it all bearable. If we have a little more than a month before you are to visit Kent, I judge that to be sufficient time. We shall see what comes of it. I shall miss you when it comes to our parting. I will return to Longbourn when you travel to see your friend.”
“Perhaps,” said Elizabeth, slowly digesting this and then speaking with a little more of her customary cheer, she laughed, “Papa might forbid me from going. Would not that be a welcome escape? ”