Chapter 5
Twenty-four hours had passed since Elizabeth had been in company with Mr. Darcy. Now traveling in a carriage with her father and younger sisters, she was confronted with another situation that required her to hold her emotions in check.
According to the signpost, the Bennets’ coach was two miles from London. When Kitty was not bouncing against the worn leather seats, she was pressing her face to the window glass. Beside her, Lydia craned her neck to catch glimpses of the approaching city.
Mary turned another page of Fordyce’s Sermons, lips pursed in concentration.
She once visited London at the ripe age of thirteen and returned to Longbourn with firm opinions about the city’s oppressive heat and unpleasant summer odors.
Although she was now nearly twenty, she remained convinced that spring would prove to be an improvement.
Next to her, her father sat with his Shakespeare.
Elizabeth’s stomach twisted as she listened to her sisters’ animated chatter. They did not know what awaited them in London.
The memory of her mother’s voice with that particular pitch signaling utter hysteria still rang in her ears.
The explosion occurred the previous day.
Thomas Bennet had strategically waited for Mary, Kitty, and Lydia to depart on their morning walk to Meryton.
Once they had gone, he finally revealed his plans to Mama.
“What?” Mama had shrieked from behind the drawing-room door. “Egypt? You cannot be serious, Mr. Bennet! What about the girls? What about their futures? How am I to find them husbands with them locked away in some horrid school while you gallivant across foreign countries?”
Elizabeth had pressed her palms over her ears in her room above, but nothing could block the sound of Mama’s escalating distress or the indistinct murmur of his responses.
The argument had raged for an hour, Mama’s voice cycling through outrage, despair, and eventually, grudging acceptance as her father offered whatever inducements proved necessary.
His edicts extended to Elizabeth, whose plea that he prepare her sisters for what awaited them had fallen on deaf ears.
“Please, Papa. You must let them know your plans. Telling them in advance will soften the blow.” In response, he threatened her with the loss of the travel opportunity if she attempted to warn them herself.
His desire to make his departure as easy as possible overrode all other considerations.
When the three girls returned from Meryton, laughing from their morning entertainment, they found their parents unusually composed. Their father announced with suspicious buoyancy that he had arranged a trip to London. His daughters would join him.
“Oh, how wonderful!” Lydia clapped. “When do we depart? How long shall we stay? Will there be assemblies? Balls? Officers?”
Kitty added breathlessly, “Might we visit some of the grand shops Caroline Bingley is always describing? At the very least, we can look through Uncle Gardiner’s warehouses.”
Mary had brightened at the prospect of intellectual stimulation beyond Hertfordshire’s limited offerings.
Elizabeth observed their innocent excitement with dread.
Her father’s cheerful responses―his careful avoidance of specifics about their accommodations or the duration of their stay― encouraged their lofty expectations, which would soon be cruelly shattered.
She contemplated the moment when their carriage would stop in front of the academy’s imposing doors.
Her initial anticipation now tasted bitter in her mouth.
Once inside the city proper, Lydia bounced in her seat.
“Oh, I can hardly contain myself. London at last!” She turned to their father, almost overcome with eagerness.
“Papa, promise that we shall attend every assembly and ball while we are here. I am determined to meet at least a dozen officers before we return to Longbourn.”
Kitty nodded vigorously. “Yes, Papa. Lydia and I have made a list of everything we need from Bond Street: new ribbons, gloves, at least one day gown, and one ball gown with matching slippers for dancing. Even new bonnets.”
Mary looked up from her book. “I hope there will be time to visit the museums, and attend a lecture or two. There is so much to learn in London that one cannot find in the country. I am determined to return to Meryton far more knowledgeable than I am now.”
Lydia waved dismissively. “Oh, pooh! You are such a dull creature, Mary! Who wants to waste time looking at dusty old artifacts when we can dance with handsome men in regimentals?” She turned to Elizabeth, fluttering her eyelashes.
“Lizzy, surely you agree that our time would be better spent at private balls than at museums?”
Elizabeth glanced meaningfully at him, then back at her sisters, feeling the weight of what she knew. “I suspect, Lydia, that our visit may not be what any of us expects.”
Their father continued reading his book. “How very perceptive of you, Lizzy.”
Kitty’s smile wavered. “What do you mean? Aunt and Uncle Gardiner likely already have invitations to at least three different evening parties this week alone. It could be that they even have a box at the theater reserved for us.”
Lydia bounced in her seat again. “And some officers from the militia have temporary assignments in Town! Mrs. Forster mentioned that Captain Denny and Lieutenant Saunderson are both here. Maybe Mr. Wickham accompanied them. Oh, how I shall enjoy renewing our acquaintance in a more elegant setting.”
Mary set her sermons aside. “I confess that I am most looking forward to accessing the lending libraries. There are several volumes of moral philosophy I have been eager to read.”
Lydia rolled her eyes. “Trust Mary to think only of books when there are beaus to be won.”
Elizabeth moved instinctively toward Lydia as the carriage hit a bump but then withdrew. She directed a sharp look at their father. His silence was harsh.
The carriage rolled to a stop before an imposing brick building. The morning sunlight illuminated the brass nameplate: Miss Peabody’s Academy for Young Ladies.
Kitty’s brow furrowed. “Papa, I think the driver has made an error. This is not Gracechurch Street, is it?”
Lydia squinted at the sign. “Academy for Young Ladies?” Her voice rose with each word. “Papa? What is this place?”
At long last, Thomas Bennet closed his book with a decisive snap. “This, my dear daughters, is where you shall spend the next year completing your education.”
The color drained from Lydia’s face and quickly flooded back in angry red splotches. “What? Papa, you cannot be serious! A school? I am nearly sixteen years old, far too mature for school!”
Elizabeth’s hands clenched in her lap as her eyes pierced their father’s.
Kitty cried. “But what about the Gardiners? What about the parties and the shopping?”
“Father…” Elizabeth warned.
Mary straightened with pleasure. “A finishing school? How wonderful! I shall have access to proper instruction in art and music theory.”
Lydia gripped the seat cushion, her knuckles white. “Papa, you must reconsider! I am on the verge of receiving a proposal. I am certain of it! Captain Denny has been most attentive, and Lieutenant Saunderson always asks me to dance twice at every assembly. Mr. Wickham pays me the utmost attention.”
Their father’s mouth quirked. “My dear Lydia, if these gentlemen’s affections are as strong as you believe, they will wait for your return.”
Tears spilled down Kitty’s cheeks, but Lydia shot to her feet in the confined space, her bonnet askew after rapping her head on the ceiling.
“I refuse! I will not be shut up in some dreadful school with a pack of annoyingly dull misses when I should be in Society. I shall write to Mama this instant.”
Elizabeth’s jaw twitched. “Lydia, I believe our father’s decision is final.”
Their father met his youngest daughter’s furious gaze. “It is. Your mother is quite aware of the arrangement.”
Elizabeth looked away. “Of course she is.” She placed a gentle touch on Kitty’s shoulder, surprised by the ache she felt.
Lydia made one last attempt to get their father to see reason. “I am meant to be married within the year. Everyone says so.” Her lower lip jutted in stubborn defiance. “Papa, you are ruining my entire future. I shall never forgive you for this betrayal!”
With unhurried dignity, their father stepped from the carriage. “I shall endeavor to bear your displeasure with fortitude. Now, wait here while I speak with the headmistress. I shall return shortly.”
Lydia threw herself against the seat. “This is the most vile, unjust treatment imaginable! To be deceived so completely. And I was about to make such an advantageous match.”
Elizabeth captured her youngest sister’s fingers in her own. “Lydia, you may find that a few months of education will make you even more attractive to discerning gentlemen.”
Lydia snorted through her tears. “Little do you know. Attractive gentlemen care nothing for bluestocking accomplishments. They want a wife who is lively and charming, not one who can conjugate Latin verbs.”
“Perhaps this experience will serve you in ways you cannot yet see.” Elizabeth struggled to contain her own emotions.
Kitty whispered fearfully, “What if they make us wear those dreadful caps and speak only when spoken to?”
Mary smiled. “I suspect the discipline will be beneficial for both of you.”
Lydia glared at their father’s retreating figure. “Mark my words, Papa. This will come to nothing but misery for all concerned. I am not meant to be caged like some common schoolgirl.”
Her rant caused their father to halt at the academy’s entrance, and he turned back. “I now see that it would be best if you joined me. Miss Peabody is expecting us. Come along, girls.”
After Elizabeth embraced her sisters, the three younger girls followed him toward the school with varying degrees of reluctance. Lydia’s shoulders remained rigid with indignation. Kitty sniffled. Mary stepped forward eagerly.
Elizabeth remained inside the carriage, the girls disappearing through the doorway.
She closed her eyes briefly as she wrestled with conflicting emotions.
Protective instincts struggled with the recognition of how much this would benefit her sisters.
Lydia and Kitty had learned nothing but willful disobedience at home.
Tears blurred her vision, as their trunks were unloaded and carried inside the building. Whether from disappointment at their father’s deception or relief at her sisters’ safety, she could not say.
The carriage door opened, and her father climbed back inside, unusually quiet.
She scanned the academy’s windows for any glimpse of her sisters. “They will hate us for this deception.”
“Perhaps. But they will also receive the instruction they desperately need.” He opened his book again. “Sometimes, my dear Lizzy, love requires daunting choices.”
Love? What she had witnessed was convenience, not love. He allowed her sisters to build impossible dreams, and then he unmercifully crushed them.
The realization struck her that their father had never trained them in deportment or the accomplishments expected of young ladies because such instruction demanded the patience and attention he reserved for his books.
Another even more frightening truth emerged.
If he could abandon his responsibilities so easily here, what did that mean for their journey ahead?
The expedition would present real trials.
She had assumed that her father would protect her, guide her, and make the difficult decisions their travel would require.
With startling clarity, she knew he preferred the easy path and would retreat into scholarly pursuits when practical action was needed.
A cold weight settled in Elizabeth’s stomach.
What she had imagined as a romantic adventure was far more sobering, terrifying. I am truly on my own.