Chapter 32
Dining Room
Longbourn
There was an extra person at the Bennet table this evening in addition to Mr. Collins, as Jane’s betrothed had joined them for the evening.
Lady Bennet was thrilled every time she looked down the table and saw Mr. Bingley’s fair head and handsome profile, which was bent adoringly towards Jane.
If Lady Bingley had been given the task of designing the perfect husband for one of her girls, she would have designed just such a man as Charles Bingley, who was all that was amiable, and charming, and handsome, kind-hearted and generous, and wonderfully wealthy.
He would make dear, beautiful Jane an excellent husband, and Lady Bennet could not be happier.
At least one of her daughters understood what was due to the family and had been agreeable to accepting a very eligible match.
This provoked a frown on the lady’s countenance, and she turned to look at Mr. Collins, who sat beside his hostess, steadily eating his way through his usual large portions, unusually quiet and with his eyes on his plate.
There could be no doubt that he was deeply offended by Elizabeth’s flight, and how could he not be?
Sir Thomas had not done well in ordering Lizzy to go away, not at all.
Since Lizzy, who was so often vaunted as being the sensible one of the family, had not been persuaded by filial duty to accept Mr. Collins’s offer, her father should have ordered her to accept her cousin’s hand.
Instead, Sir Thomas had allowed himself to be swayed by illogical emotion, claiming that Lizzy ‘would not be happy’ with Mr. Collins.
What absurdity! Not be happy to keep Longbourn?
Not be happy to have two estates to support the family even after Sir Thomas passed on?
It was selfishness, pure selfishness, on Elizabeth’s part, to put nonsensical romantic notions ahead of not only her own practical good but also that of her unmarried sisters and her own mother.
No doubt Elizabeth viewed her mother as some sort of cheap novel villainess, when in truth Lady Bennet was the only one in the family truly concerned for her family.
Even Jane, who was normally so compliant, and Mary, who was of a pragmatic rather than emotional bent of mind, had sided with Elizabeth!
It was outrageous, but Lady Bennet would not be swayed from her conviction to do what was clearly best for all of them, although the whole family was arrayed against her.
It was patently wrong of Lizzy to refuse Mr. Collins’s most generous offer.
It was too late now, though, and there was nothing to be done.
Repining would not fix anything, Lady Bennet thought with both anger and resignation as she sipped at her soup.
Elizabeth was doubtless sheltering with the Gardiners right now, but with Sir Thomas having sent her there, there was nothing her mother could do to recall her.
Mr. Collins would leave at the end of next week, and there was certainly no guarantee that he would renew his offer even if Elizabeth were by some stroke of fortune to return. It was all most regrettable.
“I think that you ought to have a veil for your wedding, Jane,” Kitty remarked, drawing her mother’s attention. “It is all the rage in France, you know.”
“I agree,” Lydia chimed in. “Miss Fairchild was just showing us some volumes of The Ladies’ Monthly Museum, and there was a picture of a most divine ensemble, with a veil made of the finest lace. You would look charming in it, Jane.”
Lady Bennet cast a warm gaze on her eldest daughter. The reality was that Jane would look wonderful in a servant girl’s mobcap, but Kitty was right; her Jane deserved the very best in the way of wedding attire. Moreover…
“Sir Thomas, Lady Bennet,” Mr. Collins said suddenly and sonorously. “I wish to make an announcement.”
Sir Thomas, who had been staring blankly at the table as he ate his food, started, lifted a confused stare to his heir, and repeated, “An announcement?”
“Yes, Sir, Madame,” the younger man continued. “I wish to inform you that today I entered into a formal courtship with Miss Lucas.”
Lady Bennet turned a wide-eyed, mouth-gaping stare on her guest.
“Charlotte?” Lydia cried out. “Charlotte Lucas?”
“Yes, Cousin Lydia,” Collins replied with obvious satisfaction.
“Given that Miss Elizabeth is not inclined to accept my hand, despite my multitude of advantages, I decided to speak to Miss Lucas who, unlike any of my fair cousins, knows how to cook and clean and bake! Indeed, I am confident that Lady Catherine de Bourgh, my esteemed patroness, will be most pleased…”
For the second time in the same day, Lady Frances Bennet dissolved into hysterical sobs.
***
On the Road to Meryton
The Next Morning
Jane always enjoyed church, but she was especially eager for the service today as it would be a bastion of solace and calm in the midst of an extremely trying time.
The twelve hours that had elapsed since dinner had been tumultuous in the extreme, and there was no indication of her mother settling down anytime soon.
Upon hearing that her last hope of retaining her home was lost to her, and to Lady Lucas’s plain, sensible eldest daughter, at that, Lady Bennet had dissolved into hysterics, from which nothing could shake her.
Jane, appalled and dismayed and worried and embarrassed, had sought to comfort her mother and, when that failed, escorted the afflicted lady upstairs to the mistress’s chamber, with Miss Fairchild supporting Lady Bennet’s other side and bringing with her smelling salts and vinaigrette.
The resourceful governess had also had the sense to send for a maid on their way upstairs, and Phoebe had joined them quickly, clucking and concerned.
Between Miss Fairchild’s gentle efficiency, Jane’s soothing influence, and the maid’s expertise, the three women had soon changed the sobbing Lady Bennet from her fine dining attire into her nightgown and a comfortable robe.
Jane had sat by holding her mother’s hand and making soft comforting noises as Phoebe braided her mistress’s hair and slipped away, returning shortly with a cup of tea with sugar and laudanum in it.
Jane had coaxed her mother into drinking it, patiently enduring Lady Bennet’s wailing over Charlotte Lucas just waiting to throw her out of the mistress’s suite and doubtless stripping it of all its adornment and making it as plain and practical as she was.
Jane and Miss Fairchild had shared a look, convinced Lady Bennet to get into bed, and covered her up.
The governess had gone to see to the two youngest Bennets, both of them distressed after such a chaotic meal, while Jane sat beside her mother’s bed waiting for that lady to fall asleep before going wearily back downstairs.
She had almost dared to hope that a night of good sleep would restore Lady Bennet’s equilibrium, but it was a slim and forlorn hope that had vanished like wisps of morning mist at breakfast. The mistress of the establishment, the maids had said, intended to remain in her room in her bed, and Jane could nearly hear the while it still remains to me.
She told them she would not be rising for breakfast or church.
Jane, with an internal sigh, had resigned herself to staying and keeping her mother company, but Sir Thomas, at the head of the table and for once paying attention to the affairs of his household, had said with annoyance that all of his daughters in residence would walk to church with him that morning, and that Miss Fairchild could bear Lady Bennet’s company.
The governess had accepted this with becoming complacency, her own habitual calm unimpaired by her employer’s theatrics.
Notably absent from the drama at the breakfast table had been its author, Mr. Collins.
Jane thought that it was possible he had broken his fast and absented himself early out of embarrassment for so upsetting his hostess the previous evening, but she suspected that he had scarcely allowed Lady Bennet’s vapors to touch his own self-importance.
It seemed far more likely that he had departed early for Lucas Lodge to pursue his courtship with Charlotte and would meet the Bennets in church with every appearance of complacency.
For now, Jane would enjoy the walk to church.
It was well that the weather was fine, for the carriage was still in London with Lizzy, but though none of them were as great of walkers as Elizabeth, all the Bennet girls, except, perhaps, Mary, who was often engaged in more cerebral pursuits, regularly walked to Meryton.
The path was familiar and the weather lovely, with no clouds to obscure the blue sky or the cool bright sun, nor any searching breeze to chill exposed faces.
Jane was enjoying it and looked forward to seeing her betrothed at church.
“Jane?”
Jane turned her head to discover that her father, who had been walking behind his daughters thus far, had hastened his steps and was now at her side.
“Yes, Father?”
“Jane, I would like you to go to London this week with your mother and Kitty and Lydia.”
She was so surprised that she halted in place, and he stopped with her. His expression was blandly calm, and she forced herself, through long experience, to try to understand his reasoning.
“You wish for me to take Mamma to London so that she cannot fuss about Mr. Collins’s courtship of Charlotte Lucas, and thus cause problems with your work?” she speculated.
It was mildly annoying that he did not even look pleased at her ready understanding, but merely said, “Yes, of course. Since today is the Sabbath, it would not be appropriate for you to travel today, not to mention that the carriage is still in London. But I am confident that the carriage will return by noon tomorrow, and you can leave two hours later.”
Jane had a great many comments and questions, but she knew her sire would appreciate practicality most of all. She began walking again, and her father with her, and she said, “Will not the horses be tired after journeying from London?”
“That is true enough,” Sir Thomas said after a moment of thought.
“We will have to hire two horses from Mr. Miller. I will speak to him after church.” Though even making these arrangements was not particularly appropriate on a Sunday, but Sir Thomas, while devoted to God and the Holy Scriptures, did not strictly respect Sunday the way many individuals did.
As he had pointed out on more than one occasion, it did not mean that one could not do anything useful on Sunday.
“Shall we send an express to the Gardiners asking if we can stay with them?” Jane ventured.
“Yes, yes, I am confident they would be pleased enough, and if that does not work, you can stay at Grillon’s Hotel or something of the like. So long as you are not here, all will be well.”
Jane lapsed into silence as she contemplated this.
On the one hand, it would be far more reasonable for Sir Thomas to send Mr. Collins away, but then again, that would be the height of incivility given that he had been invited for almost a fortnight.
Moreover, Mr. Collins was courting Charlotte, and Sir Thomas, in his own way, was genuinely fond of Sir William Lucas and would not wish to put the man out by taking away an eligible suitor for his daughter.
Lady Bennet would be pleased to visit the shops in London and oversee the creation of Jane’s wedding dress. Jane would also be able to see Lizzy, of course, which would be delightful.
But she would miss Charles deeply, and it would be very odd if she left suddenly on the heels of her engagement to the master of Netherfield.
Perhaps he would be willing to journey to London for a week to remain near her? She would ask him.