Chapter 30

P arts of the three days they travelled southward, Elizabeth spent time in the Darcy coach, speaking to, debating, and playing chess with Mr Darcy. Elizabeth had never played the game in a conveyance before and was intrigued by the travel set he owned. The board had small holes in each square for the little wooden pegs attached to the base of each piece. That way, short of the coach overturning, the games were not disturbed by the motion of the conveyance, or the bumps and ruts in the roadway.

So far, Elizabeth had not been defeated by Mr Darcy once, although he had played her to a draw in one game, coming closer to being victorious than in any other. What impressed Elizabeth most of all was the fact he never became churlish at being soundly beaten by a woman. His reaction was especially impressive, considering most men claimed chess was a game in the province of men only. Besides, according to many of the male sex, women did not have the abilities to grasp the intricacies of the strategies needed to be effective at chess. As far as she could see, Mr Darcy treated her as someone who had more ability than himself, regardless of her sex. From the first move of the first game they had played against one another at Pemberley, Elizabeth could tell he never attempted to give her quarter.

He treated her the same when they debated a book, or any other subject. If she was able to carry her point, he would concede and not make some inane statement about a man always knowing better than a woman.

Rather than lament the remaining three months of mourning, Elizabeth saw them as a positive with regards to herself and Mr Darcy. It removed all of the pressure as they both knew there could be nothing more than friendship until the latter half of April. Each time they were in company together, their friendship deepened.

It was Wednesday, the ninth day of January, and the convoy of coaches had made a stop at the inn in the town of Hatfield where they would rest before arriving at Longbourn. It was less than two hours from the town to the Bennet estate, and they had departed the inn an hour past. For the final leg, Elizabeth was back with her aunt and uncle in their coach, along with her three younger sisters. The scenery was already becoming more and more familiar as the coachman guided them closer to Meryton.

Elizabeth was next to the window on the rear facing bench, alongside of Lydia, with Uncle Edward on her youngest sister's other side. She decided it was time to speak to Janey before they arrived home. Closing her eyes and again feigning sleep, she communicated with her beloved late sister. ‘ I am both nervous and happy to be returning to Longbourn so the family will be reconciled, as we should be. Of course, it will never be the same as when you were with us, but I am ready to accept that fact without constant anger or recriminations directed at our parents, ' Elizabeth said silently with her forehead resting against the cold pane of glass next to her. ‘ My friendship with Mr Darcy made me realise how important it is to know the one you are to irrevocably bind your life to before standing up in a church.

‘Think about it, Janey. Had Mama and Papa been friends before they married, had they understood one another better, known all about the other's character, been willing to compromise for the good of the family, would not that have been a house in which it would have been a pleasure to grow up? There is nought we can do to change what they did in the past, but I am determined I will never repeat the errors they made.

"It is more than the deepest love like you and I always promised needed to be present to marry. As important, possibly more so, is a deep and mutual respect. For myself, I could never marry a man who treats me like a brainless bauble on his arm. As I am no druid or soothsayer, I know not if Mr Darcy will ever propose to me, although, I hope he will. Based on all of our interactions to date, of one thing I am certain, Janey, he respects me as I respect him. I am not myopic and I know what the relative positions of men and women are in our society, but this I believe; Mr Darcy would see me as a partner, to walk next to him in life, not a few steps behind.

‘When the weather allows it, I will make my way up to Oakham Mount and if you need to get my attention with the wind again, please feel free to do so. I love you, Janey, and I always will. '

Elizabeth was shaken from her conversation—albeit one sided—with her beloved late sister as she felt the conveyance slow. When she opened her eyes she realised they were travelling on the main street in Meryton, not far from the turn off to Longbourn. She had not noticed when the Bingley equipage and the smaller Darcy carriage had turned off towards Netherfield Park on entering Meryton from the northern end of the town.

As far as she knew, Mr Parker would wait until the morrow to present himself at Lucas Lodge. Thoughts of Charlotte and her suitor vanished when the carriage turned to the left, and onto the road which led to her home.

When she had left more than two months previously, Elizabeth had not known if she would ever call Longbourn home again. It did seem that against all the odds, she could go home again. For how long she would remain there, however, would all depend on Mr Darcy once her mourning was complete. After a short ride of less than a mile, the coach slowed again as the team drew the equipage past the gateposts of her father's estate. Those two words took on new meaning with the court case which would be heard in less than a week. She was home again.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~ ~

William Collins was nervous, but he knew not how to indicate his uneasiness to his patroness without questioning both her word and her power, which he was certain was inviolate. As he did every day, he was on his way to make his report to Lady Catherine of anything he had been told by the parishioners.

The butler showed him into the drawing room, decorated, in his mind, in the height of good taste and class, where the great lady sat on an enormous and elevated chair, backed with red satin and gilded on every other surface. Collins was sure the thrones their Majesties sat on could not have been more magnificent. As he knew she expected, he bowed low three times before remaining low as he waited for her to release him to stand.

"You are two minutes late, Mr Collins," Lady Catherine pronounced.

"I will do better, your Ladyship," Collins bowed again contritely. Were his clock at the parsonage and his fob watch both slow? According to when he departed his home and his checking his watch on arriving at the mansion, he could have sworn he was ten minutes early. Lady Catherine could not be wrong, and he knew what a store she placed in punctuality, so he would make sure not to repeat his error in the future.

"What can you tell me about the complaints of those lowlifes who are my tenants and those who inhabit Hunsford?" Lady Catherine demanded.

The question caused Collins to sweat, it had been some weeks now since any of the parishioners had shared anything of substance with him. At first they had spoken openly about what they termed Lady Catherine and her interfering and cruelty . He, of course, did his duty to his patroness and reported all to her, which led to a visit by her ladyship in person to set straight the people who complained. What a privilege for them! He could not understand why they would not share all of their concerns with him, an honoured parson who ranked so much higher than they did. He decided to deflect the question rather than disappoint his beneficent patroness again.

"What am I to do?" Collins whined. "The Court of Chancery has not sent your ordered notice of the dismissal of the case, which my thieving cousin is bringing against me to steal that which is mine. And this after I followed your sage advice to offer an olive branch and marry one of his daughters."

"Do you think the court would dare oppose me? They know who I am and that I will brook no disobedience," Lady Catherine asserted. "The case has been thrown out of the court per my explicit instructions."

Neither patroness nor lackey saw Miss de Bourgh and her companion do what they could to hide the smiles forming on their faces while listening to the drivel being spouted by both. There was only so much Anne de Bourgh could watch before beginning to giggle. "Mother, if you will excuse me, I need to rest," Miss de Bourgh stated as her companion assisted her to stand.

Lady Catherine waved her daughter away without a second glance.

"Do not waste my time with that which I have already settled. What of the report you owe me?" Lady Catherine stated imperiously.

"T-there i-is n-n-n-nothing to r-r-report your Ladyship," Collins stammered.

"This is not to be borne! They expect the condescension of my attentiveness. If you cannot acquire the information I desire, I will refuse to turn that despicable cousin of yours off your land. A daughter passing away indeed. What a disgusting lie to stop you from visiting what is yours! In addition, unless you begin to perform as I expect, I will sack you too and find another who is able to follow my orders!" Lady Catherine bellowed. "Now begone with you!"

Collins was so scared he ran out of the room, not only turning his back on the great lady, but not bowing three times on his way out like she expected of him. Unfortunately, he was not familiar with church law, and the fact that his appointment was for life, and no one, other than his bishop, could remove him from his living.

While he scurried back to his parsonage, Collins thanked his lucky stars he had not mentioned the letter from the court telling him as he had not responded to the suit, and if he did not appear on the fourteenth, in less than a sennight, a default judgement would be entered against him. Collins was sure his patroness had the right of it, and the letter had been posted before her instructions were obeyed. After today, he was well aware it would be at his peril if he seemed to question her again.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

As soon as all of those who would be residing at Longbourn alighted, the smaller Gardiner carriage left to convey Charlotte Lucas to Lucas Lodge. The normally stoic Hill smiled when he saw all four Miss Bennets enter the house with the Gardiners. He and his wife had been particularly concerned for Miss Lizzy, but based on what he was seeing, Hill opined that she was doing far better than when she had departed more than two months' previously.

It had been very difficult for Fanny to remain in the drawing room with her husband and Mrs Perkins when she heard her daughters' voices. Both Thomas and Camile—in the last few days Fanny had requested permission to address her thusly which had been granted—had told her to wait until the girls came to her, rather than overwhelming them the instant they arrived .

Gardiner and Madeline led their children upstairs after Hill related where the master and mistress were waiting. They understood the Bennets needed some time together before they joined them.

Elizabeth happened to be the first one through the door into the drawing room. She froze in place as her mother ran towards her, arms open, tears streaming down her cheeks, repeating: "I am so very sorry," over and over again. It took her some moments, but Elizabeth willed her arms to move as she put them around her mother.

Mrs Perkins looked at the two youngest Bennets and then their father, silently asking if she should remove them. Bennet shook his head. Mrs Perkins acknowledged his decision and headed towards the door to allow the family some time to speak.

"I do not want to exclude the youngest two from this, we need to heal as a family," Bennet said quietly as Mrs Perkins passed him. There would be time for introductions later.

It was not easy, but Fanny eventually released Elizabeth and then pulled Mary into a lengthy embrace. Next was Catherine, and lastly Lydia. The two eldest sisters looked at one another with arched eyebrows. In the past, their mother would have pushed them out of her path to reach her favourite, which Lydia had been, even above Janey.

Bennet tenderly took his wife's hand, led her to a settee, and sat next to her after he made sure she was comfortable. Seeing how solicitous their father was of their mother, caused arched eyebrows from all four daughters.

"I have no doubt seeing your mother and me treating one another with fondness, and especially me not making sport of my wife, must be very shocking to you," Bennet began as his daughters took seats. "It is not only our duties to the estate we are honouring as we, especially I, should be, but also our duties to one another and to you." Bennet paused as he looked at each of his daughters in turn. "As Lizzy correctly pointed out to your mother and me before she and Mary departed…"

"Please, Papa, we do not have to go back. I spoke from anger, even while I tried to honour Janey by not releasing my vitriol on you both," Elizabeth interjected. "In moving forward, it could be that a good memory will be unpardonable."

"What did you say of us that we did not deserve? Our behaviour, or in my case, my lack of action, to your sister at the time had merited the severest reproofs. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence," Bennet shook his head. "And it was my responsibility. As I was about to say, regardless of what your mother demanded of Jane, it was for me to step in and exert myself, like I should have since your mother and I married. Rather than face my faults, I hid from them and all of you suffered for it, none more so than Jane."

"I pray every night, every day that Jane will forgive me," Fanny stated mournfully. "Everything you said about me in your father's study the day before you and Mary left Longbourn was accurate. I allowed myself to be driven by my irrational fears of the hedgerows."

"I never did anything to allay those fears, rather I played into them and used them for my own sick amusement. Between us, we did not make this house a home for our daughters," Bennet insisted. "My biggest regret is that it took the death of a most wonderful daughter to shock me out of my apathy."

"I will freely admit, Papa, I was sceptical of your words when we spoke in the study that day. It was not until Uncle Edward told me what steps you were taking that it made me see it was time to let go of my anger at you. You were not just paying lip service, and then Charlotte told me of all of the changes at Longbourn, including the steps Mama had been taking to amend her character. It seems to me we are all ready to move on. If she were here," Elizabeth let out a single sob, "Janey would be the first one to tell us to look to the future and not to the past. From my perspective, we have all taken lessons from what happened, and it is time to only remember the many parts of Janey's story which gives each of us pleasure."

"Before we move on, Lizzy and Mary, you must allow me to beg your pardons for the horrendous way I have treated you in the past, especially you, Lizzy," Fanny begged. "You are both flesh of my flesh and blood of my blood, and there was never any reason to behave as I did towards both, or either, of you. Worst of all was my attempt to shift the blame for what happened to Jane from myself to you. Lizzy, can you ever forgive me for that?" Tears were coursing down Fanny's cheeks.

Elizabeth stood, also crying quietly. So did Fanny, the two met in the centre of the room. "Of course, I forgive you, Mama," Elizabeth gave a watery smile. "Even had I not desired to, and I very much do, Janey would have haunted me had I not."

Mary stood and joined her sister and mother. "And you have my unreserved pardon as well, Mama," Mary added.

"In addition," Fanny turned to her two youngest daughters, "I did neither of you any favours with my encouraging you to flirt outrageously and eschewing education. I cannot but be pleased that Camile…Mrs Perkins was employed by your father and is teaching us as she is."

Catherine and Lydia granted their mother their pardons without delay.

Fanny and her daughters all made their way up to their chambers to wash their faces, and in the case of the newly arrived sisters, to change. By the time they all returned to the drawing room, the Gardiners, minus their youngest who was napping in the nursery, and Mrs Perkins were also present.

Elizabeth and Mary finally met the miracle worker who had effected such a change in their mother and younger sisters.