Chapter Sixteen

Elizabeth

25 th February 1812

E lizabeth stood in her chamber, glancing out of the window as the late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow through the lace curtains. Her eyes fell on the garden below, where Georgie stood in conversation with Mary. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she watched him, her heart swelling with a blend of joy and longing.

A fortnight had passed since she and Georgie had confessed their love for one another. Nobody knew of their secret, though she understood her parents suspected as much, based on what she had overheard that dreadful day she thought she had lost Georgie forever.

They had kept their romance quite secret, carrying on as they always had. During the day, they worked together in her father’s study. Sometimes, Georgie went on errands in town for her father, and she would find a reason to accompany him. At night, they found one another in the garden or in the drawing room when everyone else was asleep. It gave her a thrill, yet she worried still. Georgie continued to see flashes now and then of people from his past, but he did not know their names nor could he figure out who they were to him.

After a few moments, Elizabeth turned from the window, crossing the room to her polished wooden writing desk. The faint scent of lavender filled the air, a scent that always reminded her of her sister. Oh Jane, how she missed her. Her older sister was the only person she’d entrusted with her secret romance, and she’d supported her decision not to tell their parents in her reply. Elizabeth had been tardy in crafting her response, too caught up had she been in the bliss of her romance. How, however, she had to sit down and reply, lest too much time pass. Besides, she had much to share with her sister, wishing only she could do it in person rather than by letter.

She took a deep breath, seated herself, and dipped her quill into the inkwell, her thoughts focused on the letter she was about to write.

My dearest Jane,

It has been a fortnight since my last letter, and I am so pleased to have received yours in reply. I wish you were here with me so I could share with you what is in my heart and on my mind, for my heart is anything but calm. As you know, Georgie and I have been meeting in secret, stealing precious moments together, which I must conceal from our family. I find solace in pouring out my thoughts to you, dearest Jane, for you have always been my confidante, my pillar of strength.

As I write these words, my hand trembles slightly with the weight of the decisions I am making. I confessed my love for Georgie, and yet, I am tormented by the uncertainties that loom over us. What will become of us if his memory never returns? Will we be condemned to live a clandestine existence forever?

Despite these doubts, I cannot deny the joy he brings into my life. We converse endlessly about literature, about the mysteries of the universe unveiled in the stars above us. Did I tell you in my last letter we’ve discovered a new pastime? Georgie came across a book about the stars in father’s study and it has become a passion for us both. During the day, we talk about the faraway lands on father’s globes and at night we nights we study the stars. The evenings spend together, poring over maps of the heavens, learning the names of constellations, feel so perfect and wonderful I cannot imagine how it would feel if I had to part from him and…

A knock sounded, taking her attention away from the letter.

“They are here,” Kitty called through a crack in the door.

Elizabeth slipped the letter into the drawer, making sure not to smudge the still-wet ink and rose, smoothing down her dress.

“I’ll come down with you, Kitty,” she said and followed her sister down the stairs where she was greeted by the smiling faces of her cousin, Mr Collins, and her dear friend Charlotte Lucas, now Mrs Collins.

“Charlotte, it has been far too long,” Elizabeth said as she hugged her friend.

“Indeed, it has, Lizzy,” Charlotte replied with a gentle smile. “I have missed our conversations.”

“Ah, Cousin Elizabeth, we must have you visit Hunsford soon,” Mr Collins said, though the idea of visiting them did not sit well with Elizabeth. She’d been relieved when she’d managed to postpone the visit due to Georgie’s arrival, and she couldn’t imagine going now. She wanted to see Charlotte more, of course, but the threat of meeting Mr Darcy at his aunt’s home was too real a possibility to engage in the wish.

“One day,” she said diplomatically and smiled at her father, who ushered the guests into the drawing room.

“Well,” he said, “You are here for now, we will make the best of that.”

“My dear Mr Bennet, it is an absolute pleasure to be here at Longbourn once again. And Mrs Bennet, I must commend you on the hospitality of your charming household.”

“Thank you, Mr Collins,” Mr Bennet replied dryly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “We are always delighted to have you.”

“Hill!” Mrs Bennet bellowed at the housekeeper who bustled in with a tray of tea, in due haste. “Please, everyone, make yourselves comfortable. Let me pour everyone a cup of tea.” Elizabeth watched her mother with great care. She carried herself with poise, which surprised Elizabeth, for these past few days she had been rather upset and fallen victim to her ever-vexing nerves at the prospect of seeing Mr Collins, who stood to put them all out of Longbourn when he inherited. One would never know it now, of course, as she was the image of the perfect hostess.

Charlotte settled into a chair, and as Mrs Bennet poured the tea, she asked, “When might we meet the handsome stranger I’ve heard so much about?” She cast a knowing glance at Elizabeth, who immediately felt a flush rise to her cheeks. She had told Charlotte about Georgie and his striking looks but had refrained from mentioning their burgeoning romance.

“Indeed, I had hoped to have a moment with him so I could counsel him,” Mr Collins said. “My congregants always find my words of advice enlightening.”

“Do you think a sermon might restore his memory?” Lydia said with a chuckle that made Mr Collins colour up with mortification.

“One can never underestimate the Lord’s words, Cousin Lydia,” he replied stiffly.

Mrs Bennet interjected swiftly, “Oh, a family tea is hardly the time to introduce a stranger. Besides, he’s gone into Meryton with Mr Cook for some business. Quite unfortunate timing, but necessary, you see.”

Elizabeth knew well enough that her mother had likely orchestrated this trip to avoid any interactions between Georgie and Mr Collins. Mrs Bennet had made no secret of her disapproval of Elizabeth’s discreet relationship with Georgie, considering it unseemly and fraught with uncertainty.

Charlotte gave Elizabeth a knowing look, her curiosity clearly piqued but she was respectful enough not to press further. “I look forward to it,” she said warmly. “I’ve heard so much about him.”

The family had gathered for tea, and Elizabeth took her seat across from her father. It was a rather advantageous position because, with Mr Collins facing in the opposite direction, she could see her father rolling his eyes whenever Mr Collins made one of his ridiculous comments.

“Yes, dear cousin,” Mr Collins said, addressing a question posed by Mary, “I intend to make these visits more frequent. As my patroness says, as the future owner of Longbourn, I must ensure that the estate is in the best shape possible so that once I take ownership—” He paused then and bent towards Elizabeth’s father. “—which I hope will not happen until I myself am a very old man, naturally,” he said with a chuckle. “But anyhow, I must make sure it is in the best state possible.”

Beside her, Elizabeth’s mother grumbled under her breath. “It might’ve been prevented altogether if not for Mr Darcy and the dreadful sisters…”

She, like Elizabeth, had made Mr Darcy, this unknown entity, into the real villain of the story. Of course, Mr Bingley did not come far behind, for her mother disliked him almost in equal measure, since he had dashed her hopes of Jane marrying well and saving them from falling into the hands of Mr Collins. However, it was always easier to hate somebody whom one had never met.

“What’s this?” Mr Collins looked up with a smile. “Did you mention Mr Darcy? I did not know that you were familiar with the gentleman.”

“William,” Charlotte interjected, “do you not recall, Mr Darcy is intimately familiar with Mr Bingley? His cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, spoke of it when—”

“Ah, that is correct,” Mr Collins interrupted sharply. “Most unfortunate situation. If only I had known that our dear Jane was looking to be betrothed, I might have interceded. While I have yet to meet the man, from what I gather, Mr Darcy has a sharp mind and a keen sense of observation, so if he thought that dear Jane and Mr Bingley were an ill fit, I must trust his judgement. The entire family is, of course, known for their astute reflections. Nothing escapes Lady Catherine’s scrutiny, for instance.”

“I do not see how Mr Darcy could observe or assess any situation, given he was never present to do so,” Elizabeth said, sharper than intended. Any other man might have been offended by her tone, but her hopeless cousin was entirely unaware of the upset he had caused.

“Well, someone truly accomplished and intelligent can put the pieces together without necessarily having to observe them. My patroness, for example, can solve intricate troubles arising on her estate without ever having to meet the people involved. That is greatness, Cousin Elizabeth, that is true greatness.”

Then he sighed, and just as Mr Bennet was about to steer the conversation in another direction, Mr Collins continued, “It is most unfortunate that Mr Darcy seems to have so little regard for my dear patroness of late, as he has not replied to her letters. It is quite unlike him.”

“I imagine a gentleman such as himself is very busy,” Mary said and Elizabeth glanced at her sister. She was not usually one to insert herself into any type of conversation, but Elizabeth suspected that a part of her poor sister still held onto the affection she had inexplicably held for Mr Collins during his last visit. Indeed, Elizabeth was certain that after she had rejected Mr Collins’ proposal, Mary had hoped to make herself Mrs Collins. What a poor match it would have been, though she imagined it would have saved Charlotte a great deal of trouble and likely made her a bit happier.

“The last I heard,” Charlotte said. “Mr Darcy was traveling to Town and then back north on business,” she added, glancing at Elizabeth again.

“My dear wife is quite correct,” he replied. “I am certain he will soon grace us with a visit. For the time being Lady Catherine is most concerned with the well-being of her estate. Such dedication is truly admirable.”

Elizabeth caught her father’s eye and rolled her eyes subtly, eliciting a small, amused smile from him. The rest of the conversation continued in a similar vein, with Mr Collins extolling the virtues of Lady Catherine and occasionally dropping hints about the future of Longbourn. Elizabeth endured it with practiced patience, her mind wandering to thoughts of Georgie.

Finally, the long visit drew to a close, and as the guests departed, Elizabeth felt a mixture of relief and anticipation. She returned to her room to finish her letter to Jane, pouring her heart into every word, finding solace in the act of writing. She knew that whatever the future held, she would face it with courage, buoyed by the love she had found in Georgie and the support of her beloved sister Jane.

When Elizabeth finished her letter, she felt a renewed sense of determination. She sealed it with a steady hand, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. The path before her might be uncertain, but with Georgie by her side and Jane’s unwavering support, she knew she could navigate it with grace and strength.