8

The week that followed Mr. Collins’ arrival saw little alteration from the one that preceded it. Elizabeth continued her morning curricle rides with Captain Darcy, Mrs. Bennet maintained her matchmaking schemes, the gentlemen from Netherfield remained attentive to the ladies of Longbourn, and Mr. Collins continually amazed them with his nonsense.

To Elizabeth’s dismay, Jane’s disquiet did not abate. Her serene elder sister was more reserved than ever, toward both of her suitors and even toward her favourite sister. After the third time Jane had not concealed her struggle to converse with Mr. Bingley when he had called, Elizabeth was resolved to speak to her sister about the matter.

When Jane went to her room to retrieve an embroidery sampler – a thin excuse to escape Mr. Collins’s verbose and boastful attentions – Elizabeth pursued her.

“Jane, I must speak with you,” Elizabeth said, closing the door softly behind herself.

“Yes?” Jane fidgeted with the contents of her sewing basket. She would not meet Elizabeth’s eye.

“I wish to apologise for what I said to you last week about Mr. Bingley. I fear my interference may have done more harm than good.”

“There is no need to apologise; I am not sorry that you sought to put me on my guard. I am glad of it,” Jane replied, still not looking up.

Elizabeth would not be put off so easily. “Jane, it is obvious to everybody, except perhaps our cousin, that Mr. Bingley likes you very much. He seeks you out at every opportunity, and I believe his open disposition would complement your own natural diffidence very well, if only you would allow it. I wished you to know what Captain Darcy told me about his friend, but I did not intend to deter you entirely from growing better acquainted with him.”

“And you have not,” Jane said, finally turning her gaze on Elizabeth. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I have grown better acquainted with him, and have learned from Mr. Bingley and his sister that he is quite attached to Miss Darcy.”

“I cannot believe that,” Elizabeth said at once. “Captain Darcy would have told me, if there were any such expectations in his family. Jane, she is but sixteen! Think of how he treats Kitty and Lydia – he is polite to them, but it is clear that he considers them to be the silly young girls they are. I have heard him speak as kindly of Miss Darcy as anyone might praise a sibling of their friends.”

“But Mr. Darcy and his brother are so grand, so polished and poised – their sister must be just such creature. Miss Bingley certainly seems to think so.”

“She is a child! And Miss Bingley would wed her step-brother to the very devil if it prevented him from attaching himself to a family that cannot advance her own grasping schemes,” Elizabeth cried.

Jane’s nostrils flared as her gaze hardened. “And would you see me married into such a family? I do not know if I could bear it, no matter how much I might admire…. Oh! It is no use arguing, Lizzy.”

“I do not wish to argue, Jane. I only wish… I wish I could unspeak every word that has agitated you this past week. You deserve every happiness, and I believe you would stand a fair chance of it with Mr. Bingley. His attentions, despite your want of encouragement, must be some proof that he could make you happy.”

Jane sighed, her shoulders sagging, and she set her basket aside as she sank onto the edge of their bed. “I have no doubt of that – it is rather the reverse. Could I make him happy? Could I hold his affection forever, when so many undoubtedly superior ladies have failed to do so in the past? When his own sister has made it plain that she does not support the match?”

Elizabeth threw up her hands in frustration. “Well, not if you are determined to be defeated! I suppose I ought to be glad at least that you are not too generous to speak plainly of Miss Bingley, but as to the rest – you are cheating yourself of a real chance at love, and you are giving our odious cousin false hope. Surely you cannot mean to allow that babbling booby to believe he might win your hand!”

Jane’s countenance betrayed mortification that bordered on revulsion, but she had not the opportunity to answer. The door opened and then slammed shut again behind their mother. “Listen to your clever sister, Jane,” she hissed, not bothering to conceal that she had eavesdropped on them.

Elizabeth glowered at her mother’s intrusion, feeling any chance of restoring Jane’s equanimity slipping away as her mother drew in the sort of deep breath that generally preceded one of her lengthy lamentations. Jane only trembled.

“I hope I am quite mistaken, indeed I hope I have heard it all wrong,” Mrs. Bennet wailed, her hands coming to her hips as she posed to scold her eldest daughter. “But I know my senses have not deceived me this past week! And shame on you, Lizzy, for putting such nonsensical notions in Jane’s head to discompose her so! But I suppose you have seen what your mischief has done to poor Jane’s chances and now you wish to fix it. But do not be so quick to dismiss Mr. Collins! He may be our salvation, if you cannot catch Mr. Bingley, Jane.”

“Mamma, this is hardly helpful,” Elizabeth protested.

Her mother rounded on her now. “Helpful? Helpful! Securing the future of our family would be helpful, foolish child! Dithering about and discussing it from every angle – well, it is very like you, Lizzy, but it will all come to nothing if Jane does not act!”

Mrs. Bennet turned back to Jane now; she began to point her finger in another bout of remonstrance, but baulked at Jane’s tears. She paused, blinked, and then sat down beside her eldest, loveliest daughter. “My sweetest creature,” she cooed, wiping the tears from Jane’s cheeks. “I could weep, too, you know. I am frightened. I have told you all many times what may befall us when your father dies. If I had given him a son, if I had brought a greater fortune into my marriage, or even if Longbourn possessed a dower house – but there is nothing that can save us from what frightens me more with each passing year you girls remain unwed.”

Elizabeth wished to protest, to remind her mother that Jane’s apprehensions were valid and proper, that a union of love and respect mattered very much to herself and to Jane. And yet, her mother was not wrong. Moreover, Mrs. Bennet’s tone was so eerily calm, so serious, all her usual dramatic fluttering stilled to something unsettling in its uncharacteristic solemnity.

Mrs. Bennet laid a hand atop Jane’s, but she looked up at Elizabeth. “How strange that it should be you, Lizzy, to oblige me first in this. I know you will only protest that Olly is just a friend, but I know he would marry you in a trice, if only to silence the awful whispers I shall not repeat. And if the way that Captain Darcy looks at you comes to naught, or if he yields to the way his mother looks at my youngest daughters, I will see you wed to Oliver Lucas. And say what you will, you would be happy all your days, my girl.”

Elizabeth was stunned at her mother’s prescience. She put aside her astonishment that her mother had seen through Olly’s ruse to obfuscate the growing attachment between herself and Captain Darcy, she even put aside her own awareness that, if it came down to it, Olly absolutely would marry her. Instead she only asked, “If you know that Kitty and Lydia’s behaviour is damaging our chances with gentlemen whom we esteem, why will you not take the trouble to check them?”

Mrs. Bennet bristled, some of her usual obstinacy returning to her demeanour. “And why would I do that? Have you not told Jane to shed her silly reserve and give poor Mr. Bingley more encouragement? If she were half as lively as dear Lydia, he would be falling at her feet already!”

Elizabeth could not deny this was likely true, but it was not Jane. And it was not proper, not for any of them. If her mother was so concerned with seeing her daughters well settled, why could she not see that curbing Lydia and Kitty’s wild behaviour would only make that outcome more likely?

“I know you are correct,” Jane said softly. “But that is not my nature. I could never – even if I could, for long enough for our affection to grow, I could not keep it up forever, and then surely he would tire of me.”

“I daresay your father tired of me a dozen years ago,” Mrs. Bennet cried. “What does that signify? I have my home and my children – and, for now, security. What more can you ask for?”

“Love,” Jane murmured, while Elizabeth gave the same answer in a much firmer tone of voice.

For a moment Mrs. Bennet looked terribly sad, her own eyes glistening with what might have been tears. “And is it not love that has you in here weeping?”

Jane shook her head. “I do not know! I like Mr. Bingley, but I cannot call it love until I know him better.”

“And you shall not manage that if you do not try, that is what Lizzy has been explaining to you! Whatever this nonsense about Miss Darcy, and Miss Bingley, and all the other ladies – put it from your mind before it poisons your sweetness and destroys your chances. You will have time to deal with them once you are his wife! Do not lose your chance, else Mr. Collins may indeed prove your only prospect.”

The two sisters gaped at their mother in horror. She shrugged. “Well, it is as simple as that. Both gentlemen are yours for the taking, Jane, and it may be the last chance you have at the luxury of choice. I can only say that if your choice is to let them both slip through your fingers, it will be one you regret when we all find ourselves in the hedgerows. And you shall not find me so sympathetic when that happens.”

Mrs. Bennet stood, smoothed out her skirts, and swept out of the room.

***

The next evening, the Bennet sisters attended a card party at the home of their Aunt Phillips in Meryton. Elizabeth hoped that their mother’s absence due to a megrim might put Jane more at ease. Unfortunately, they were accompanied by their cousin Collins, and thus there could be no tranquillity for anybody.

Jane had extracted a promise that Elizabeth would simply enjoy the company of Captain Darcy without fretting over her troubles with Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth had agreed, wishing to do what would best help her sister, and knowing that as Olly could always be counted upon to meddle, she would not have to.

She watched with satisfaction as he did just that, diverting Miss Bingley at every turn, so that she could not make herself an obstacle to her step-brother’s attentions to Jane. Elizabeth had not promised she would abstain from observation; she indulged in watching the couple long enough to allow herself a sense of relief at their progress, and then resolved to truly put the matter from her mind.

It was easy to turn her thoughts to happier things, in the company of Captain Darcy. To their morning ritual they had added a new element, for they had begun to read the same books in their spare time so that they might discuss them together daily. It was enough for Elizabeth to begin to believe herself truly in love.

Their most recent endeavour was a book that Captain Darcy wished to read at the behest of his sister, A Vindication on the Rights of Woman. Elizabeth had read it before, but had revisited the beloved tome with a greater fervour, and she spoke to him of her impressions on the notion of a woman’s sensibility.

Captain Darcy listened to her insights with evident pleasure. “You seem to embody the sort of womanhood the Miss Wollstonecraft advocates for so eloquently,” he told her, his eyes twinkling with delight. “You can need no further instruction, beyond perhaps a treatise detailing how easily the patriarchy might be dismantled by a creature of your talents.”

“Perhaps I shall pen one,” she teased him. “It shall dissolve the very foundation of society with its irreverence, and my mission will be complete.”

He did not smile as often in company as when they were alone together, but again his eyes lit with mirth. “And does this irreverence stem from your female sensibility, or from your rationality? The authoress advocates for both, so you are perfectly safe.”

“Certainly it derives from my use of reason. Anybody truly sensible must be aware of what is ridiculous, though perhaps it may be my sensibility which compels me to give voice to it when I ought not do so.”

“And would it be reason or feeling that would otherwise stay your clever tongue?”

“Both, if necessary, I should imagine,” Elizabeth drawled. She watched as, across the room, Mr. Collins approached Jane and Mr. Bingley and began to babble at them. “I wonder what my cousin would make of our reading material. He has discussed Fordyce’s sermons with my sister Mary often enough that I daresay he lends strength to the notion of female intelligence by contrast.”

Captain Darcy quirked up an eyebrow at her. “Shall we go and ask him?”

Elizabeth shook her head. As much as she wished to detach her cousin from Jane’s attempt to converse more with Mr. Bingley, she feared that doing so would constitute a violation of her promise not to interfere. In a moment of consternation, she confessed as much to Captain Darcy.

He furrowed his brow. “I apologise if my words have caused more harm than good. I had no intention of giving such distress.”

“It was good of you to consider such circumstances, and I shall have to accept that Jane must do with that information what she will.”

“Another harmonious blend of sensibility and reason,” he replied, his lips curving upward as he gave a nod of his head. He turned back to look at Mr. Collins. “It is a pity such things do not always run in families. No, I must hear him, if only so that I can repeat his words to Oliver, and have my turn at being the amusing one for once.”

Elizabeth’s mouth gaped in surprise and then formed a broad grin. He shrugged his shoulders at her. “Did you think me so impervious to his mischief?”

“I confess I did.”

“What I admire about Olly is that he uses his wicked ways for good – usually. I hope I am as fine a studier of character as you, Miss Elizabeth – I mean to attempt it.” Captain Darcy continued to watch Mr. Collins until his gaze was returned. Mr. Collins gave a bow of his head and approached them directly.

Elizabeth was grateful he had managed to summon her cousin without involving her in the interference she wished to avoid. And though she had relished their private conversation, she was perfectly ready to be amused by her cousin’s absurdity.

“Captain Darcy,” Mr. Collins said cordially, giving an obsequious bow of his head. “I was just speaking with Mr. Bingley and fair Jane about your aunt’s beneficence. Lady Catherine de Bourgh is a credit to your family, sir.”

“I am sure she would be pleased to hear you say so,” Captain Darcy said coolly. Elizabeth had heard his own opinion of his aunt, and she did not imagine he was gratified by her cousin’s compliments. “My aunt is a formidable woman indeed.” And with no further preamble, he informed Mr. Collins of the book they had been discussing.

“Oh my,” Mr. Collins sputtered, struggling to consider what Captain Darcy might wish to hear, which was undoubtedly at odds with what his noble patroness would wish him to say. “Well, yes, Cousin Elizabeth is quite the bluestocking, if I may be forgiven for attributing any flaw to such a lovely creature.”

“But is such an endeavour truly a failing? Miss Wollstonecraft would not agree that extensive reading is anything short of a tremendous accomplishment,” Elizabeth said with an innocent smile.

“I… I have never read the volume in question, preferring tomes of an ecclesiastical nature, and of course giving precedence to such reading material as Lady Catherine has more than once deigned to recommend to me. But I am happy to make such observations as you may choose to interpret as compliments – indeed I have attempted to make an art of arranging such delicate little compliments as are sure to please the ladies of my acquaintance.” Mr. Collin’s concluded his speech with a syrupy smile and a vacuous gaze.

“But surely you must agree that womankind is capable of rational thought, as much as any man, lending strength to her wisdom through the tender temperance of her inherent sensibility. I have heard enough praise of Lady Catherine from you that I know you must see it thus,” Elizabeth said, smiling brightly at Captain Darcy.

“She is the pinnacle of feminine wisdom and sentiment,” Mr. Collins said gravely. He rested a hand on his heart for emphasis.

“In which case, she is more to be pitied,” Captain Darcy said drily. “That a woman who has inspired such veneration and respect should find herself relegated to the dower house.”

Mr. Collins only blinked stupidly.

“I am sure you are aware of her circumstances. My late cousin Anne was the heiress of Rosings; upon her death, Rosings Park became my brother’s rightful property until their daughter comes of age.”

“Indeed, and so very tragic,” Mr. Collins agreed with an attempt at gravitas. “And yet how providential that we should meet in such auspicious circumstances as we now happily find ourselves! I can assure you, from my heart, that I have every intention of demeaning myself to him with all the same style of reverent address as secured my most fortunate standing in your aunt’s favour.”

“And yet it is hardly necessary,” Captain Darcy said. “Perhaps it may be argued that my brother does not require such veneration, having received a greater share of it, simply due to his sex, than my aunt ever has, despite being as worthy as you describe her.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together to maintain her composure in the face of her cousin’s befuddlement. His expression changed several times over, his confusion evident. “To be sure, Mr. Darcy is….”

“My brother, as it happens, will not be much involved with Rosings for the foreseeable future. In fact, I shall have that honour myself. I have been tasked with residing there and managing the estate until my niece comes of age and is wed.”

This Mr. Collins did seem to understand; he appeared now to be calculating how best to ingratiate himself with this new figure of authority. “Well, what a fortunate situation for you, sir – my heartiest congratulations. I have heard such praise of you from your aunt – and I have no doubt it will give her great comfort to know you past the perils of your former profession. I hope I shall please you in the fulfilment of my duties to the parish.”

Captain Darcy nodded, and met Elizabeth’s gaze with a twinkle in his eye as he spoke to her cousin. “You shall find my disposition very different from my aunt’s, and my expectations equally so. I understand she has long been in the habit of managing the sermons and private affairs of her clergymen, and has required the very style of deference you have adopted.”

“Quite so,” Mr. Collins interrupted with a boastful lifting of his shoulders. “Why just a fortnight before I departed Kent, her ladyship condescended to visit my humble abode, and was so kind as to provide me ample counsel on how best to make the house agreeable to the bride I hope to return with.”

Mr. Collins flicked a deliberate glance to Jane, and continued his self-congratulation. “She advised me on the placement of shelves in the closets, some drapes and a few new furnishings in the parlour, as well as the carpets that were not arranged to best advantage.”

“Is it not customary for a new bride to do such things when taking up residence in her new home?” Elizabeth grimaced, hoping Jane would not be the bride in question, to bear such officiousness.

Captain Darcy took a small step nearer to her, as if sensing her disgust and displeasure. “I am sure she must be gratified at having her minute insights so well valued. You may prefer to continue to seek her inexhaustible opinions on such matters, as I have no intention of being such a master of Rosings myself,” said he. “I shall have enough estate business to keep me occupied – I hope you will not consider it a slight that I shall leave you to your own devices in such matters, nor shall I think it a mark of disrespect if you do not hold me in as great a reverence as you do my aunt.”

Mr. Collins blanched and stiffened slightly, but his jaw hung slack as his eyes darted about, searching for the correct response.

Something in Elizabeth’s mind cried out in celebration at Captain Darcy’s words. He was likely attempting to correct Mr. Collins’s fawning for his own sanity, as the two men would have to get on together living in such proximity. But there was something in his words, and in the very way he looked at her as he spoke, that told her Captain Darcy wished to improve Mr. Collins if he could, to make him a more sensible relation for her sake. She had teased him about doing just that when she had shown him Mr. Collins’s letter, without ever imagining he would give credence to what she suggested.

Captain Darcy offered the toady parson an encouraging smile. “My time in the navy has taught me to think less of the distinction of rank; I should sooner speak as equals. Where my aunt values deference, I prefer sensible independence and rational conversation. Your cousin, Miss Elizabeth, is the perfect example of such company as I should hope to find in my new neighbours.”

Mr. Collins nodded and gazed at Elizabeth with an expression of fresh assessment, and she began to fear he would turn his attentions to her as a prospective bride. In the same moment, Captain Darcy appeared to realise what he had done.

“Even if I am an unabashed bluestocking,” she quipped. She bobbed into a curtsey and moved away before the idea of her as mistress of his parsonage could take root in her cousin’s malleable mind. She would leave him to Captain Darcy’s adept advice, and gave her beau a look that promised to seek him out again later before she moved away.

Elizabeth meandered through the room, enjoying the sight of her sisters, friends and neighbours all enjoying themselves so well. Kitty came away from the card table as Lydia crowed over her victory, relishing the flattery and admiration of several militiamen who sat at her table.

“Oh, Lizzy, have you come to commiserate with me?”

Elizabeth looked askance at her sister. “What do you mean, dearest?”

Kitty knit her brow, as if the answer was perfectly obvious. “Why, that Olly has ignored you all evening, in favour of attempting to detach Miss Bingley from Mr. Darcy?”

“Olly may do as he pleases, though I think he means to prevent that lady from obstructing her step-brother’s conversation with Jane,” Elizabeth said softly. Of course, she knew that if Miss Bingley could not have her way in the matter, she was resolved to attain her other object, in capturing Mr. Darcy’s notice and dazzling him with her imagined refinement. It occurred to her that she and Miss Bingley might become sisters by marriage twice over, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“Poor Mr. Darcy, I am sure he cares not a whit for her!” Kitty stared longingly at the object of her sympathy. “You are always watching everybody, Lizzy. You must have seen how she is always finding some excuse to touch him. It is plain to see he does not like it!”

Elizabeth had not noticed, but a glance in that direction demonstrated exactly what Kitty had described. Miss Bingley gave an affected laugh and leaned closer to the master of Pemberley, brushing her hand over his arm as she made a comment that she appeared very pleased with. Mr. Darcy took a subtle step backward, and Lady Anne now moved to come to his rescue. Olly was with them; he waggled his brows at Elizabeth as his stance shifted to isolate Miss Bingley.

Elizabeth studied her sister’s countenance. “Kitty, do you like Mr. Darcy?”

A telling blush crept across her younger sister’s face. “He has such odd humours as our Papa, but I find him so very handsome,” she whispered. “Lydia has already decided that Colonel Fitzwilliam is her particular property, and she is welcome to him, though he says he must marry an heiress. Mr. Darcy need not think of such things, with his great fortune. He has spoken to me of Pemberley a few times, and on Wednesday last he showed me a miniature of his daughter, Little Lou he calls her.”

Elizabeth was stunned. Kitty did like the gentleman, and even seemed to believe he liked her in return. Charlotte’s words rung in her ears – she knew, or at least had been informed by a reliable source, that Mr. Darcy was not in want of a wife at present, despite being perhaps the most eligible gentleman they had ever met. And yet, she could not inflict the same anxiety on Kitty as she had upon Jane; Elizabeth resolved to hold her tongue.

Instead she considered a singular piece of her mother’s rare lucidity – that Lady Anne did not look kindly upon Lydia and Kitty. Perhaps it was better to deal in hope than truth in such a case, for there may yet be some good to come of Kitty’s budding infatuation.

“Perhaps you might speak pleasantly with his mother. You are of a similar age to her own daughter, whom I understand she misses very much.”

“But she is terribly frightening,” Kitty cried. “She is often giving such looks to Lydia and me; she thinks us quite beneath her.”

“And can you really bear to be thought no better than Lydia? You are two years older!” Elizabeth could see her words hit their mark. It was perhaps more manipulative that she could like to be, but it would be well worth it if Kitty could be moved to display a modicum of good sense. She went one step further, and then she would do no more.

“No lady could ever be cross when met with kind inquiry after a beloved daughter, as surely Mamma is daily proof. If you wish to become sister to Miss Darcy, you might begin by discovering by what sort of girl she is.”

Kitty’s eyes flashed with comprehension, and she offered Elizabeth a grateful smile. “That is why you are the clever one, dearest Lizzy.” She gave Elizabeth an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek and then hastened away to engage Lady Anne in an a conversation that Elizabeth hoped would show her sister to advantage. She was a good girl and deserved to at least be thought well of, even if Marcus Darcy had not come into Hertfordshire in want of a wife.

Again Elizabeth was left alone to make a circuit of the room and observe her companions in their merriment. Lydia did indeed show every sign of considering Colonel Fitzwilliam her own conquest, and Jane appeared to be perfectly at ease with Mr. Bingley, at last. Miss Bingley looked to be on the verge of a murder; the haughty woman finally managed to escape Olly’s manoeuvring and approached her brother, with Olly in pursuit.

Elizabeth was considering one final bit of mischief, when Lydia did the honour for her, as if reading her mind. She broke away from the card table and moved toward the pianoforte. Mary sat at the instrument, and Maria Lucas was turning the pages for her.

“Mary! We have had quite enough of that dull stuff – play something we can dance to!”

“But there are still two movements,” Mary cried.

Sir William Lucas was standing nearby, and was moved by the look of awkward horror on his second daughter’s face. He rested a hand on Maria’s shoulder, giving her a gentle pat as he addressed Mary. “Your taste is quite as refined as my own, dear girl, but perhaps you might indulge us all just this once.”

“Please,” Lydia whined. “Play a jig, Mary!”

Mary gave a heavy sigh but searched for some music to oblige them.

Elizabeth watched with satisfaction as Mr. Bingley stood and offered Jane his hand. She accepted it with a bright smile, radiating the very sentiments Elizabeth had urged her to express. But Mr. Bingley did not lead her to join the dance. He captured Jane’s hand and held it after he had helped her to her feet, and turned to address the whole room.

“I am pleased indeed to see you all so fond of dancing,” he said as a few other couples began to partner. “I mean to send round invitations to a ball, and look forward to seeing this delight repeated at Netherfield in a fortnight.” Amidst the murmurs of glee that rippled across the room, Mr. Bingley spoke more softly to Jane, and though Elizabeth could not hear him, she was certain he was securing Jane’s first set.

He and Jane joined the lively dance as Mr. Phillips and his footman began hastily moving furniture to make way for so many couples. Olly practically dragged Miss Bingley into the fray, and Elizabeth smiled as Marcus Darcy detached Kitty from his mother, who smiled benevolently as he led her to the dance.

Her smile only brightened as Captain Darcy approached and extended his own hand, declaring it would not at all be tolerable for him to abstain from the activity. He held her gaze with heart-stopping intensity, and secured the first and supper set at his friend’s ball in such a silky tone of voice as led Elizabeth to blush at the thought of an evening spent in such romantic bliss.