Chapter Thirteen
London
It did not escape Elizabeth’s notice that Jane dressed with extra care the next morning, and sat by the window reading the volume of poetry Mr. Willoughby had gifted her.
But then, Elizabeth herself had attempted a new hairstyle, and even caught herself considering whether Mr. Darcy preferred willow green or jonquil as she chose one of her new day dresses.
She even laughed aloud as she realized that his call was quite expected.
Colonel Brandon was the first to arrive, with Mr. Willoughby and the Hatchards; Elizabeth was relieved that they should not begin their day with the possible guests she dreaded the most, but neither was Mr. Willoughby amongst those she most wished to see.
It was evident that he had not forgotten their altercation at the ball, for he behaved as if he was rather fearful of any reprise of her impudence.
For Jane’s sake, as well as her friendship with the Hatchards, and the respect she owed Mrs. Jennings, Elizabeth was resolved to behave civilly. Mr. Willoughby sat near Jane and his mother, but was content to allow the colonel to address them first.
“Acting under your advice, Mrs. Gardiner, Willoughby and I journeyed to my sister’s estate in Yorkshire.
I met with Miss Williams, and presented Mr. Willoughby to her, naming him as Mr. Watson, a candidate for the vicarage in my sister’s gift.
At the same time, I presented a genteel farmer on my sister’s estate, who is of pleasing aspect and elegant address, as Mr. Willoughby, come to make my ward his proposals.
She accepted without question, betraying her ignorance of Willoughby’s true identity. ”
Jane gasped, looking at Mr. Willoughby with hopeful glee. “Miss Williams did not know you?”
He grinned. “I looked her in the eye, Miss Bennet, and informed her that should I, Julius Watson, be fortunate enough to attain the position of vicar in Montrose, I would most happily call the banns for her and her Willoughby on Sunday next.”
“What a lark,” Mrs. Jennings cried. “See here, Miss Lizzy – Mr. W has been entirely exonerated.”
“I am sure Marianne will be pleased to hear it,” Elizabeth said.
“But how – why would Miss Williams name you…?” Jane shook her head, still fearful of saying too much in Sophie’s presence.
“I asked her to speak honestly with me,” Colonel Brandon said with a grimace. “Eliza confessed that after the discomfort of our travels, she met Miss Marianne and was overcome by an impulse to wound her, believing that Miss Marianne had wounded me.”
Sophie was fidgeting with frustration at being kept in ignorance, but Mr. Willoughby smiled indulgently at his sister.
“The Colonel’s ward accused me of some wrongdoing, which in turn displeased Lady Allen, and shocked Miss Bennet’s cousin exceedingly.
It is a relief to have been proven innocent of a misdeed I consider abhorrent. ”
Sophie nodded thoughtfully. “So, who did… the abhorrent misdeed?”
“A soldier who has subsequently perished in the Peninsular War,” Colonel Brandon said.
“But there is more good to report, for the farmer indeed took a liking to Miss Williams, and they really are to be married,” Mr. Willoughby said. “I may style myself something of a matchmaker.”
“Oh, that is very sweet,” Jane said. “I am so pleased that it has all turned out well. Have you spoken to Lady Allen?”
“I have not yet decided if I wish to, after her behavior at the ball,” Mr. Willoughby replied.
“But there is one other person whose good opinion I wish to recover. Miss Bennet, I have composed a letter to Miss Marianne – it is unsealed, if you wish to ascertain that it is entirely proper – but I beg you would pass it to her, when next you write.”
Jane nodded and accepted the letter. “I respect your privacy, and you may be assured of my discretion. But it is strange that we have not yet heard from them. Could our letter have gone astray, Lizzy?”
“It is hardly likely cousins have little to say after nearly a fortnight,” Elizabeth said, shaking her head. She also wondered why they had not heard from Elinor and Marianne yet.
The Ferrarses were announced, and Jane swiftly crossed the room, declaring she would sit down at a little desk in the corner and write again to them at once.
Mr. Willoughby pursued her under the guise of wishing to seal his letter, and he remained at her side afterward, laughing with Jane at the various things that she might tell her cousins to amuse them.
Mrs. Jennings received their guests very civilly, though they were clearly displeased by Jane’s preoccupation.
Elizabeth was disappointed the Darcys had not yet come to call, and felt herself unequal to concealing her dislike of Mrs. Ferrars and her sons.
She moved to the pianoforte and pretended to be occupied in considering the ample selection of sheet music.
Colonel Brandon soon came to join her. “I would be happy to turn the pages for you, if you mean to play for us, Miss Elizabeth.”
“That is very kind, but I must warn you that I intend to be a long time in making my choice,” Elizabeth replied with a smirk as she continued to examine the small booklets of music Mrs. Jennings kept on a silver tray near the instrument.
“I am a patient man,” he said with a smile. His eyes, which always conveyed a wary sense of intelligence, now glistened as if he knew what she was up to.
“And a very wise one, I must say. Please allow me to thank you, on Marianne’s behalf, for taking the trouble to discover the truth of what your ward told my cousin. I do hope it will all come out right.”
“It was the right thing to do, which I hope I always strive for. It was my responsibility toward my ward to discover the truth, and now it seems I am rather to blame, for ever burdening her with my own woes. You can guess why Eliza wished your cousin to think ill of Mr. Willoughby.”
“Then you must be a guardian who has inspired her considerable devotion. It was wrong of her to lie, but I hope you have forgiven her and wished her well with the kind farmer. I could easily imagine one of my own young sisters acting so impetuously, and I hope I would be so generous.”
“I am sure you would be, Miss Elizabeth. I have settled a little money on the couple, and mean to return in a few weeks to see them wed. I have Mr. Willoughby to thank for promoting the match after his vindication. He has proven himself a true gentleman.”
Elizabeth glanced over at her sister, who was still composing her letter as Mr. Willoughby stood beside the desk, leaning against the window frame as he boldly read what Jane wrote down, and whispered little japes.
If Colonel Brandon had cleared the path for Mr. Willoughby and Marianne to be reconciled, Jane may suffer a disappointment, but she would be too loyal to their cousins to ever own to it.
“You have done the same, in speaking so well of your rival,” Elizabeth replied.
Colonel Brandon examined some of the music in her hands, and gently tapped one of the songs to indicate she should play it.
Elizabeth took her place at the instrument.
There was enough space on the piano stool that he sat beside her, ready to turn the pages for her.
“I know this song very well,” she told him.
“If you will permit me to remain at your side – I suspect you would not prefer the company of any other gentleman present…”
Elizabeth began to play, idly and a little too slowly, but she smiled at the colonel. “I suppose I ought to be mortified, if I am so transparent.”
“I shall think no less of you,” he said warmly, and then his face shaded. “But I must express a concern of my own for your cousin, Miss Marianne.”
“Oh? I had thought everything was quite resolved.”
“His character is redeemed of any villainy, but his circumstances in life have not materially altered. He confided in me on our journey back to London; if he breaks with Lady Allen, he will be in no position to offer Miss Marianne a comfortable life.”
“I understand his estate is in some distress, but the Hatchards would not allow them to want for anything – they are sure to be fond of Marianne, and would at least do more to provide for them than John Dashwood ever did. After such circumstances as my cousins have been reduced to, Marianne does not require much for her comfort, beyond good company and affection.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled sadly as Colonel Brandon offered Elizabeth a plaintive smile. “May I speak candidly, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Of course.”
“I believe his conscience is conflicted. He considers himself honor-bound after his actions in the autumn, and there I am inclined to agree. However, I believe he feels it keenly that he has little to offer; beyond this, I suspect he seeks to coax himself out of the attachment, that upon realizing the challenges his situation presents, the doubt that she could be happy begins to make him question the depth of what his own regard had been.”
The colonel sighed and bowed his head. “I am too impartial to say what is right, but I believe you are very like your cousin and must understand her.”
Elizabeth continued playing the pianoforte, the remembered notes mingling with improvised ones as she paid the instrument only enough attention to conceal her conversation. “Do you seek my advice, Colonel Brandon?”
“I hope you do not think it too bold of me. I have not been insensible to Miss Marianne’s marked preference, nor unaffected by it.
And I know what I am, what a dismal old bore I make as a suitor, but I do have a romantic heart.
And I have not the same doubts as Mr. Willoughby that I could make her happy, give her a comfortable life.
Her mother and sisters, as well, would always be looked after. ”
“You are a faithful one, I shall grant you,” Elizabeth said, ceasing her playing for a moment as she impulsively reached for his hand and pressed it in hers. “If only I could wish you both success.”