Chapter 15 #3
Did Elizabeth lose herself to emotion? She supposed she did.
Was that wrong? Occasionally her life was more complicated because she could not hide her thoughts or feelings, but she did feel much and enjoyed life’s positive moments deeply.
When vexed or angry or sad, she felt it profoundly, but could not say she would want to surrender that, either. To feel seemed human.
Jane said, “It is why we did not leave Longbourn to travel here until the following day. Mama wanted to make her announcements.”
At first Elizabeth was appalled, thinking that forcing a windowed sister to wait another full day to be with family was cruel, but then she considered this again.
Mary was thrown into more anxiety by the arrival of the full retinue of Bennets, and without her opportunity to boast, Mama would likely have pouted and possibly even shared the joyful news.
“I am so happy for you, Jane.” She hesitated and whispered, “More good news—Well it was good, though now I do not know….”
Jane whispered back, “Mary is expecting?”
Elizabeth was amazed her sister had guessed. She nodded.
“I saw the fullness of her face and wondered.” She leaned in and murmured, “It is good news. She will never be lonely, and will still have part of Mr Collins with her.”
Elizabeth knew this must be right, but the thought of Mary raising a child alone, and having a constant reminder of her sadness, made Elizabeth uneasy. “I think we must try to rest before tomorrow.”
Dawn broke and Elizabeth slipped out of bed, hoping not to see Mary downstairs so early. Her heart sank when she took in her sister at the side of the coffin already dressed in mourning.
Elizabeth watched a moment, wishing she had put on her slippers, then said, “Take advantage of the last hour you might sleep.”
Mary shook her head, not looking at Elizabeth, but sitting with eyes fixed on Mr Collins. “I only have until the men come to close the coffin. Then I shall never see him again.”
Elizabeth’s chest tightened, and she pulled up a chair. There were no words, but she could sit in uncharacteristic silence and let Mary know she was not alone.
Dawn’s fingers of light crept into the windows and slowly the room brightened.
The maid entered, asking if breakfast was to be served, and without looking at the young woman, Mary nodded.
The maid locked eyes with Elizabeth, and the two exchange worried glances, but what was to be done? What more could one say?
Jane descended the stairs, pulled another chair closer, and reached for Mary’s hand. Mary squeezed it back and rested her head on Elizabeth’s shoulder. The three sat linked for a time until the maid announced breakfast. Mary did not wish to eat, so the others remained as they were.
A knock at the door startled them. Four men entered.
They were there to close and transport the coffin to the church.
Mary rose in silent dignity and moved back, allowing them to do their job.
Elizabeth wished she had dressed completely, and pulled her shawl tightly around herself to hide her nightgown. Jane was doing the same.
“I wish to follow,” said Mary to the men, and they nodded.
“Might we have but five minutes?” asked Elizabeth. “Jane and I can be dressed and accompany you.”
The tallest of the men frowned. “Ladies, we must—”
“They are not like most women,” Mary said with quiet vehemence. “If they say five, it shall be five.”
The man nodded curtly, and Jane and Elizabeth hurried upstairs and were back in even less time than promised.
The man nodded again, a mix of surprise and approval on his face, and Elizabeth, a bit short of breath from rushing into her black gown, was pleased not to have let Mary down in this little way.
The men hoisted the coffin and walked out, leaving the room feeling profoundly empty.
The girls trailed them out of the front door and around the corner, using the flagstone path Elizabeth recalled Mr Collins telling her he had redone not six months earlier at Lady Catherine’s suggestion, and up the steps to the stone church.
The walk had been short. Too short. Not enough time to fully consider its gravity, to feel sufficiently complete.
The coffin was lowered into place on a black velvet covered table set out for this purpose, and the men bowed and departed.
Mary touched the coffin and closed her eyes, whispering words Elizabeth could not hear, then lifted her head and looked about.
“He loved preaching here.” She frowned. “I know some will not miss his lengthy sermons and parsing of the Bible’s words and meaning, but I shall.
” After one more look at the coffin, she strode out.
Jane and Elizabeth hurried to her side and looped their arms through her elbows so they went into the world together.