Catch No Evil （Catch-22） #2
Elizabeth had built a layer of armour any stone would be proud of and any knight of old would not disdain; yet she had fled a single unkind remark from a woman she despised, who had no connection at all to the Bennets.
She had gone so far as to run four thousand miles into another life to escape.
Why? Why run? Why not let the gentlemen of Netherfield—who had done her no real harm—apologise?
Was she a coward, a wise woman, both, neither?
Or was she running from something far worse and more insidious than fear? Was she running from hope?
~~~
Anne’s unexpected gentleman chuckled.
“My pardon, my lady. I am George Read of Cleveland, Ohio, at your service. If you insist, I will scour the room for someone who knows someone you know; or if you prefer, I will accost some matron we can both pretend to know. For myself, I prefer to dance with you and worry about formalities later, if at all. Nobody will know we have not met, nor care if they did.”
Anne was perplexed, but decided it was the American way, and she could treat it as another oddity of this journey. After Lizzy climbed to a ship’s crow’s nest wearing trousers, what was a little self-introduction? As the man said, who would ever know?
She answered self-consciously, uncertain whether she wished Lizzy were there or not.
Lizzy would not have been the least intimidated by a self-introduction.
Had she not done so with Darcy? On the other hand, Anne was heir to a great estate; talking to a man should not kill her, nor be beyond her abilities.
The matron with whom she had arrived had left for refreshment an hour earlier, so Anne was quite alone, though in the middle of a dance hall.
Anne decided to follow the stranger’s lead. “That sounds like a lot of trouble, sir, so let us dispense with it. I am Miss Anne de Bourgh of Rosings in Kent.”
She gave a little curtsey. “Where exactly is Ohio, sir?”
~~~
Mr Bingley looked different than Jane remembered.
A shadow lay over his countenance, a tinge of sadness, perhaps related to their recent history.
On the other hand, if they were in the sun—metaphorically at least—he would cast a stronger shadow than before.
The lightness of his countenance had been replaced with solidity.
He stood straighter, smiled a touch less, showed less emotion.
Perhaps he had traded serenity for strength, youth for wisdom, disappointment for hope.
She was not displeased; not in the least. His humour could be restored with the correct inducements.
With those observations in mind, Jane Bennet did what she did best—gave Mr Bingley a smile. It was time to get on with this task.
“Mr Bingley, we both know why we are here, but may I violate the usual order of things by speaking first?”
She expected the utmost cordiality, and perhaps a self-deprecating smile, but was quite surprised to hear him laugh aloud before composing himself.
“Of course, Miss Bennet. You may speak first any time you like—”
She nodded, but he was not quite finished.
“—for the rest of your life.”
Now she could not decide whether to be charmed or vexed, so she continued her plan, or what was left of it. “Is there any point in telling you that you are in no way honour bound to me?”
~~~
Mr Read laughed at Anne’s question, and replied in the same vein, “Where exactly is Kent?”
Anne had no idea why that question and answer was funny, but it was, so she laughed a bit just like she might with Lizzy, but never before in company. “I asked first.”
Mr Read chuckled. “Around five hundred miles west, Miss de Bourgh.”
“Kent is around three thousand five hundred miles east.”
With that the man broke into a true laugh, showing the good humour that her cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam had once displayed, but which had been diminished since he had spent time on the continent.
Mr Read even slapped his knee in his mirth, which would have given Lady Catherine an apoplexy, but Anne quite enjoyed.
~~~
Elizabeth’s muddled and confusing thoughts ran around and around in her head as she enjoyed the supreme quietude of the evening, in her own company, in her own parlour, until she was not at all certain if she was enjoying her reflections or going mad.
Perhaps she was not as enamoured of silence as she supposed.
Mayhap the distraction of the thoughts, or the enjoyment of the solitude, caused her to be careless.
Regardless of the cause, she failed to notice a step stool that was exactly where it had always been, exactly where it belonged, and exactly where she had evaded it a hundred times.
Either way, when she stumbled over it, panic seized her, followed by a brief moment of expectation for the fall that would happen in another second or so—a fall she assumed would be every bit as bad as the hundreds she had experienced since she lost her sight but not her stubbornness.
Elizabeth was completely and thoroughly unprepared for the sharp flash of pain that came when her head hit a piece of furniture she did not even know was present, because she never came to that corner of the room.
Her last thought before she succumbed to unconsciousness was one of screaming pain mixed with perplexity, for the sound of her head hitting the object was not what she had expected—not what she expected at all—not in the least.
~~~
Bingley laughed again, and said something unexpected. “Have you ever noticed the large oak tree, a mile from the parsonage right near the edge of the park?”
She was taken aback by the oddity of the question. “I am familiar with it.”
“That is the closest I came to breaking my word to you. I turned my horse back at that tree thrice in the past four months. Before that, I made it halfway twice, and ten miles from Netherfield more times than I can count. I understand you have learned I am more resolute than I was, but I have to admit that staying away from you is the promise it has been hardest to keep, and I was admittedly unlikely to keep it very much longer anyway. Our meeting was inevitable.”
Jane’s jaw dropped in surprise. Her plan, never much of one to begin with, was now lying in shambles, but she did not repent its loss. Eventually, she just decided to cease prevaricating.
~~~
Darcy shook his head at Lady Catherine’s suggestion of leaving the colonel to his father.
He suspected the lady just offered it to give him an easy escape should he desire it, but they both knew the Earl.
He was a proud and disagreeable man, very status-conscious, and altogether unreliable.
The colonel’s father would simply laugh that it all had worked out for the best, slap the colonel on the shoulder, congratulate him on his matchmaking, and go on as before.
Even if it had not worked out for the best, the man would not be any more concerned about an impoverished gentlewoman than he would a laundress, and would just wash his hands of the affair.
That thought left Darcy most uneasy, because that was not so very different from letting Wickham continue when he could have stopped him.
He saw no point in dragging his aunt into the upcoming very unpleasant interview, so he simply thanked her for her advice and walked down the hall to the room where his cousin was locked. Darcy was preparing to dismiss the footman on guard duty when a crash sounded on the other side of the door.
~~~
Mr Read finally calmed down and asked, “Can you be more specific, Miss de Bourgh? It seems unlikely you are speaking of Africa so I will tentatively rule it out, but France or Spain would not be out of the question, and that radius might even reach Germany or Sweden.”
Anne just laughed with him, though refraining from slapping her knee or any other part of her person. “England, sir. Do not pretend you did not know. Our estate is around fifty miles southeast of London.”
Mr Read laughed along with her. “Shall we dance, Miss de Bourgh?”
Anne nodded in surprise. “Might we sit out this one and dance the next? I am not as robust as some, and I would like to rest a half-hour before taking the floor. Perhaps you could tell me something about yourself.”
Mr Read agreed to the plan immediately, and they spent the next half-hour talking, and completely forgot to take the next dance, and the next after that.
Mr Read, like Anne was an only child, but unlike her, he had ended up with just about no fortune to speak of.
Still, he had done well for himself, and Anne was impressed with his tale.
They had surprisingly many things to talk about considering their vast differences in experience, and the time passed quickly.
By the time half the company of dancers had gone to their beds, and Anne’s footmen were waiting mostly patiently for their own, Anne reluctantly took her leave.
Mr Read asked, “May I call on you tomorrow, Miss de Bourgh?”
Anne's big smile was sufficient for his purposes.
~~~
The thoughts, questions, and contradictions of Elizabeth’s reflections on her past and future left her head spinning, in addition to the pain she still suffered.
This probably explained why she struck what was left of her head on the bottom of the instrument on her way up.
That event, of course, made more sound than you might imagine, though less than when she had hit the actual keys on the way down.
This event also did not feel anywhere near as pleasant as it sounded, and it did not sound all that diverting to start with.