Chapter XXVIII

U pheaval at Longbourn was no rare event. As Elizabeth had considered such matters at length before, she felt no need to lament the often chaotic atmosphere at the estate. The morning in question, the very morning of Elizabeth's conversation with her father, led her to escape the estate in Mary's company, she too being eager to retreat.

"I declare Jane has the patience of a saint," said Elizabeth as they crossed the drive, and passed through the gate and into the village beyond.

"To deal with Lydia," said Mary, "one must possess more than that. I consider myself a patient woman, but I have no desire to endure Lydia's tantrums this morning."

With a commiserating nod, Elizabeth lengthened her steps, eager to leave the loud and angry voices that even now pursued them from the house, Mary matching her step for step. Within a few moments, they had traveled beyond the range of Lydia's piercing voice, through the village, and to the country lanes beyond. Only then did they slow their pace, reveling in the pastoral vistas opening before their eyes. Elizabeth had experienced this scene many times before, but it always moved her, the beloved views of her youth. Her world might change before long, meaning she needed to enjoy the simple pleasures, for who knew what life might bring to her door.

"Did you ever think Papa would suggest hiring a companion for our sisters?" asked Mary. "I can scarcely comprehend it."

"Yet it is welcome, is it not?" replied Elizabeth, eager to avoid Mary's question and not correct her misapprehension.

"Far more welcome to us than it is to our sisters." Mary fell silent and considered the situation. "I suppose I had become inured to their behavior to a certain extent, and reconciled to the notion that someday they would ruin our family completely."

"There is still a chance of that. The way Lydia behaved when they informed us, it will not surprise me if she steals away in the night with the first man to catch her fancy."

"Do not say such things, Lizzy!" exclaimed Mary.

"At least she is not here to hear us."

The sisters laughed quietly together. Elizabeth had never felt close to Mary, for her character often made her aloof. At that moment, however, she felt a kinship, a common accord with this, the quietest of the Bennet sisters.

"I appreciate Papa's actions," added Mary after they had walked a little further. "Lydia has been treading the edge of propriety, especially since the regiment came."

"Which is why it was best she did not go to Brighton," replied Elizabeth.

Mary shuddered. "What that girl could get up to in Brighton does not bear consideration. I understand Papa's reasons for refusing her, though I will own I had not expected it. This business of a companion, however, may finally teach them how to behave.

"It may also help me," added Mary, her voice a murmur.

Elizabeth looked at her sister, interested to hear her suggest as much. Mary noticed her look and interpreted it correctly.

"I am not exactly comfortable in society, Lizzy."

"Yes, I know," replied Elizabeth. "You expect a companion would teach you how to be easier?"

"In part," replied Mary, giving the impression of deep thought. "Since I was a girl, I have striven to abide by the tenets of faith and the conduct by which a good young woman must abide."

At Elizabeth's look of distaste, Mary chuckled. "I know you do not appreciate Fordyce, Lizzy. To own the truth, I now question his strict interpretations."

"Fordyce's sermons are often used to ridicule, Mary," said Elizabeth. "At their heart, his words are not incorrect, but they are so restrictive as to be prudish."

"That is what I mean. I read Fordyce and I try to emulate his instructions, yet I see you do not follow them, and I do not consider you improper. A companion with sufficient knowledge of how to act in society may be beneficial, not only to help me attain greater ease among my peers but also to know better what I may and may not do in society. I could never be so heedless as Lydia, but I think I could be a little more open if I understood what was acceptable."

"I think Mary," replied Elizabeth, "that propriety is no mystery. You have a good sense of decorum. If you act in a way that does not breach that, I suspect you will do well."

Mary nodded, considering Elizabeth's words. For the rest of their walk to the town, she remained quiet and contemplative, while Elizabeth enjoyed the scenery and the warmth of the sun on her face. The bonnet she wore restricted her enjoyment and always had, but it also protected her skin from the bright sunlight, for which Elizabeth was grateful. She would sometimes take the offending garment from her head and bask in the light warming her hair, but Mary would not appreciate such a breach, so she refrained.

"When do you suppose Papa will hire the companion?" asked Mary.

"As soon as he can find an appropriate woman," replied Elizabeth. "Mr. Darcy and Lady Catherine appear to have some knowledge of such things, so I imagine Papa will ask them for advice."

Mary considered this. "If you will pardon me, Lizzy, I think one of the drawbacks to your refusal of Mr. Collins was the loss of Lady Catherine's wisdom."

It was all Elizabeth could do not to gape at her sister with amazement. Lady Catherine and wisdom used in the same sentence? The lady had proven more reasonable than Elizabeth had thought when she had been in Kent, but she would not live under the lady's patronage for anything. The question was how to help Mary understand this.

"Lady Catherine is a good sort of woman," said Elizabeth, pulling Mary's attention to her. "But do you not suppose that living under her care would be... frustrating at the very least?"

"How do you mean?" asked Mary with a frown.

"I visited Charlotte, Mary, and I saw how Lady Catherine manages her home. Lady Catherine does not suggest—she decrees and others obey. Given her character and that of Mr. Collins, do you suppose Charlotte has any choice of whether she will accept or reject Lady Catherine's instructions?"

"No, I suppose she does not," said Mary in sudden understanding.

"Exactly." Elizabeth smiled at her sister. "For most, the choice of whether to accept a man's proposal concerns mostly a woman's opinion of the man in question. The family is a consideration, of course, but in Mr. Collins's case, Lady Catherine must be of primary concern. As I witnessed, a woman who marries a man who will not contradict her ladyship will not even be the mistress of her own home."

"That would not be agreeable at all," said Mary.

"No, it would not. Please understand that I am not belittling Lady Catherine. She has reasons for her behavior. At the same time, I would not wish to be under her thumb and subject to her whims."

Mary directed a shrewd look at Elizabeth. "That must also hold when considering any potential suit from Mr. Darcy. She is a close relation."

"Yes, she is," acknowledged Elizabeth. "Yet the differences between Mr. Darcy and Mr. Collins are striking. Whatever else Mr. Darcy is, he is no sycophant. He is his own man, and his estate is at a distance from Lady Catherine's home. If the lady remained adamant about the arrangement between Anne and Mr. Darcy, one might need to consider her reaction. But even then, if I esteemed Mr. Darcy enough to accept him, any measure of Lady Catherine's displeasure would not prevent me from following my heart."

"No, I do not suppose it would." Mary smiled. "I hope you will allow others their opinions, Lizzy, for I cannot say I would fare well should I act against her ladyship's designs."

"Not at all, Mary," replied Elizabeth. "Trust me—I fully understand the lady's ability to intimidate."

They walked into the town, and the demands of the moment took precedence. Mary and Elizabeth were not Kitty and Lydia, meaning they did not flit from place to place, argue over ribbons and bonnets, or stare longingly at wares for which they possessed insufficient funds and beg their sisters to loan them money.

These two sisters, while different in essentials, possessed enough similarity of taste as to render such an expedition a pleasure. They had sufficient money between them to purchase what they liked, but neither was a spendthrift, meaning they purchased nothing that caught their fancy. In dress, they preferred similar colors, with Elizabeth tending more toward greens and yellows, while Mary had always liked the more earthy tones of darker greens and browns. They debated this cloth or that ribbon, and while they made no purchases, there were several bolts of cloth they agreed to bring to their mother's attention.

Another similarity between them was their preference for the written word, not a pastime shared to any great degree by their sisters; even Jane, who read more than Kitty and Lydia, was not a devotee of the written word. Elizabeth and Mary's tastes were different, of course, but their shared interest in books eventually led them to Mr. Lodge's bookshop, a frequent and beloved place for them to while away a few minutes perusing his shelves. It was there that Elizabeth found Mr. Darcy.

"I see you discovered one of Meryton's treasures, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth in greeting when the man bowed to her. The proprietor looked up from his work, smiled at one of his most frequent customers, and looked back down.

"Indeed, I have," replied Mr. Darcy. "I suppose it should not surprise me to find you and Miss Mary here, for I know of your love of books."

"Of course, sir," replied Elizabeth, contemplating mischief, "extensive reading is the very pinnacle of accomplishment."

The gentleman laughed, while Mary regarded them with no little interest. "I sense there is a story here of which I am unaware," said she.

"There is," affirmed Elizabeth to her sister, though her eyes never left Mr. Darcy. "If you recall, I stayed at Netherfield for a few days last year nursing Jane when she caught a cold. One evening while I stayed there, Miss Bingley was kind enough to ensure I understood the exacting standards a woman must meet to lay claim to the term ‘accomplished.' Mr. Darcy agreed with her, then followed her by recounting the sovereign importance of reading to broaden a woman's mind as the crowning achievement that would make one truly accomplished."

"I seem to recall you disagreeing with Miss Bingley's prodigious list, Miss Bennet," said Mr. Darcy, clearly enjoying the repartee.

"Oh, I did, sir," replied Elizabeth. "The list Miss Bingley presented would consume more than a single lifetime to achieve. I also remember you declaring you knew only six such women."

"To which you said it did not surprise you that I knew so few," replied Mr. Darcy.

"Can you name all six?" challenged Elizabeth.

"No, Miss Bennet, I cannot. My comment was more rhetorical than factual." Mr. Darcy then turned to Mary and winked. "Would it shock you to learn that your sister had Miss Bingley so flustered that she then claimed to know many accomplished women a moment after agreeing with my assessment of six?"

"I suspect, Mr. Darcy," said Mary, showing a wry grin, "that she thought to lift herself as the foremost among their number."

So rarely to Mary offer witticisms that when she did, it often took Elizabeth by surprise. Mr. Darcy was not under any such restraint, for he allowed his mirth free rein.

"I see you have taken Miss Bingley's measure, Miss Mary."

"It was not difficult."

"No, I suppose it was not," said Mr. Darcy, shaking his head in amusement. "What has brought you to Mr. Lodge's shop today?"

"I love books if you recall," said Elizabeth. "My father purchased his collection almost exclusively from this place."

"Indeed, he has, Miss Elizabeth," said Mr. Lodge. "Without Mr. Bennet, I do not know if I could continue to operate my business."

Elizabeth smiled and nodded at the elderly man, for it was a common jest between them. She turned back to Mr. Darcy.

"Mary also reads, but she more often peruses Mr. Lodge's selection of music."

"Then it is unfortunate that Georgiana is not here," replied Mr. Darcy. "I believe she would be eager to take part in such a discussion."

"I hope to see her again soon, Mr. Darcy," said a shy Mary. "Meeting her was everything enjoyable."

"She echoes your sentiment, Miss Mary."

For a time, they stayed in the shop, debating this book or that concept, and Elizabeth was pleased to see that the man deferred to Mary, ensuring she was a part of their conversation. Elizabeth had never had much success in diverting Mary's attention from her usual moral treatises and was surprised to see a few comments from Mr. Darcy had her younger sister considering other viewpoints than those that had so often ruled her life. In time, Mary participated with interest, though perhaps not so much eagerness as Elizabeth.

Thereafter, they departed the bookshop and walked about Meryton for a time. Mr. Darcy was not unacquainted with the town, of course, but Elizabeth and her sister guided him to those locations that might be of interest, though there was not much. Meryton was a town much the same as many others of its like, supporting the local gentlemen but not offering anything unusual. This led Mr. Darcy to say something of the town near his home, which sounded like a lovely sort of place.

"I am surprised, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth after a time of this. "I would not have thought Meryton interesting enough to warrant your attention."

"Such places are not strange to me, Miss Elizabeth," replied Mr. Darcy easily, sensing the playful note in her voice. "And I desired a little distance from Netherfield."

"Oh?" asked she. "Is there some problem at Mr. Bingley's home?"

"No problem," said Mr. Darcy. "Some elements of the party, however, make it difficult to find a moment's peace."

"For shame, sir!" exclaimed Elizabeth, struggling to hold her wide grin. "You should not speak of a beloved aunt in such an irreverent way."

"Yes, I will own that Lady Catherine's company can be a little onerous. My comment did not concern my aunt."

"Has Miss Bingley been difficult to endure?" asked Elizabeth.

Mr. Darcy shrugged, appearing uncomfortable. "A few days ago, she approached me, and I am afraid I engaged in the office of pointing out the fallacies of her ambitions. The conversation became so heated that I left her in no doubt about my opinion."

"That is unfortunate, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth. "But it is not surprising. Despite all this, she persists?"

The gentleman shook his head with some annoyance. "She is not as overt as she once was. Yet she has no compunction at all about pointing out what she considers to be the errors in my thinking. I can withstand her, but sometimes I need a rest from her constant harping."

"I can well understand it."

"What of you, Miss Bennet, Miss Mary?" Mr. Darcy's smile encompassed both women. "Do extraordinary events render Meryton preferable to your home?"

Elizabeth shared a look with Mary and laughed. The gentleman contented himself with an amused look while waiting for them to elaborate, no doubt understanding the reason for their mirth.

"Things are a little... unsettled at home for the moment. My father, you see, decided Kitty and Lydia need a companion; they do not agree, and they were not shy about informing him of their opinions."

"Ah, then we convinced her."

"Mr. Darcy!" exclaimed Mary, appearing scandalized. "Are you suggesting you manipulated my mother? And you, Lizzy? Did you participate?"

"More like she provoked it," said Darcy, directing a smirk at Elizabeth. Then he turned to Mary. "Do not call it manipulation, Miss Mary. Instead, I suggest you look at it as making your mother aware of certain facts she had not previously considered."

Mary regarded them both, reflecting on Mr. Darcy's assertion before she allowed a nod. "Yes, I suppose you must be correct. You may have wished to provoke a particular response, but that does not mean it was unnecessary."

Relieved, Elizabeth smiled at her sister. Mary could be judgmental and prickly, for all she was a good sort of girl. That she was so easily convinced was welcome, for when she thought she was in the right, she could be as immovable as a mountain. Elizabeth might have thought Mary might prefer to go her own way and leave Elizabeth to Mr. Darcy's company. Her determination to stay and her position following them suggested the role of a chaperon. It was so like Mary to appoint herself to such a task that Elizabeth stifled a laugh when she considered it.

"Well, ladies," said Mr. Darcy at length when they had traveled from one end of the town to the other. "It appears we have seen all that Meryton has to offer."

"Which is not precisely a lot," quipped Elizabeth.

"As I previously said," agreed the gentleman. "Is there somewhere else you mean to go in Meryton?"

"No, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth. "At present, I believe it may be time for us to return to our home, lest our parents worry for us."

"Then if you are willing, shall I escort you?"

Elizabeth regarded him curiously. "Do you mean to say that you walked from Netherfield today?"

"Not at all, Miss Bennet," replied Mr. Darcy. "Should you wish my escort, I shall retrieve my mount and he shall walk behind us until we arrive at Longbourn. Then I can ride him to Netherfield from there."

"We have walked the path many times and know our way, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth. "But we will not reject your company if you wish to walk with us."

"I shall be happy to do so."

The mount, a large stallion, was waiting for Mr. Darcy's return at the north end of the town, near the road to Netherfield. Mr. Darcy soon had his steed's reins in hand as he walked next to Elizabeth and Mary, the ladies bracketing him as they strode down the path toward Longbourn in the distance. As they walked, Mr. Darcy asked questions of the land before him, and Elizabeth responded with what she knew, pointing out Lucas Lodge to the right and Longbourn to the left. Their conversation was a pleasant diversion as they crossed the mile to Longbourn's gates, and when they arrived, Elizabeth invited him inside to take tea with them.

"I would not wish to impose," said the gentleman.

"Not at all, Mr. Darcy," said Mary. "Our mother would be quite put out with us if we sent you on your way without offering refreshment."

"In that case, it would be churlish to refuse," replied Mr. Darcy.

As Mary had suggested, Mrs. Bennet welcomed their guest into the home with nary a hesitation, pressing him to accept tea and biscuits. It was interesting to see that Jane was present, welcoming the gentleman with her mother, but that Kitty and Lydia were also in attendance, and far quieter than she expected. The girls were not in the best humor, their reproachful looks at the mother speaking volumes as to their feelings. Mr. Darcy was gentleman enough to greet them politely and make no mention of their present spirits. While he did not raise the subject, Mrs. Bennet had no qualms at all about speaking of it.

"Mr. Darcy," said she, "I would appreciate it if you passed a message to your aunt."

"Of course, Mrs. Bennet," said the gentleman. "What would you like me to tell her?"

"Please relay my thanks for her timely instruction." Mrs. Bennet paused and considered what she would like to say, a hint of an abashed blush staining her cheeks. "Perhaps you have never heard, but I was not born a gentlewoman, and I sometimes struggle to understand how I should behave. Lady Catherine's timely intervention and instruction about engaging a companion for my girls was most welcome."

Lydia huffed at Mrs. Bennet's statement, but Mr. Darcy allowed a smile. "I shall inform Lady Catherine. She will be pleased, as my aunt dearly loves to be of use."

"She has been," said Mrs. Bennet fervently. "I hope she will consent to dispense a little more of her wisdom in the coming days, for I have no notion of how to go about engaging the services of an appropriate woman."

"Lady Catherine will be happy to do so, I assure you. She may even know of a few such ladies searching for positions. I shall be certain to inform her when I arrive at Netherfield."

"Mama!" exclaimed Lydia, no longer able to endure what she thought was a travesty of justice. "This is all nonsense. What need do I have for a companion?"

"The need, Lydia," said Mrs. Bennet, throwing her youngest a quelling glare, "is to teach you how to behave properly."

"I need no such instruction," insisted the girl.

"That you continue to speak out of turn proves you do ," said Mrs. Bennet, unconcerned by Lydia's continued protestations. "When you can speak without such petulance, then perhaps we shall reconsider whether you are mature."

The girl was not happy with her mother's rebuke, but she appeared to possess some measure of restraint. She glowered and pouted, but she did not protest again, which was a balm to Elizabeth's nerves. The tea service came, and Mrs. Bennet busied herself fixing the cups, entrusting them to Jane to hand to Mr. Darcy and the rest of her daughters. Mr. Darcy accepted his with a word of thanks, but Elizabeth noted that his attention never wavered from the youngest Bennet.

"From this," said he after a moment, "I must assume your daughters do not appreciate the prospect of having a companion."

"That is an understatement, Mr. Darcy," said Jane, proving the girls had frayed even her temper.

"May I ask why?" asked he of Kitty and Lydia.

"Do we need to explain?" demanded Lydia, her glare suggesting she thought Mr. Darcy deficient. "Such a woman at Longbourn will be the death of all our fun."

"Ah, then I believe I understand," said Darcy with a nod. "You suppose a companion will be all lessons and instruction, with no time for more pleasurable activities."

"Will it not?" ventured Kitty.

"Life, Miss Kitty, is full of those matters with which we might prefer to dispense," replied Mr. Darcy. "It is a serious business, and we must meet it with gravity, though I suspect we are also meant to enjoy our experiences. Remember that we would not appreciate the more pleasurable activities if life were nothing but frivolity."

Lydia regarded the gentleman with no little suspicion. "What do you mean?"

"Tell me this, Miss Lydia," replied he. "If you knew only joy in life, would you appreciate it, or would it seem normal?"

"I never thought of that," replied Lydia.

"Most do not," agreed Mr. Darcy. "Yet we all have times of joy and times of sorrow, times of serious thought and times of carefree fun. If we never experienced both, we would not know to prize the one and endure the other.

"The unfortunate fact is the cares of life consume us as we attempt to resolve them. You may sprain your ankle or misplace a beloved keepsake, and when you marry, you need to focus on such things as raising children. If you consider it, we are of a privileged class, such that we suffer fewer cares than those about us. The tenant farmer must concern himself with feeding his family, and for him to do that, he must work. His wife too is constantly engaged in the farm's work, so they may put food on the table for their children. Should the harvest fail, my income would suffer, but I would not become destitute—not unless the harvest should fail for many years in a row."

"What has this to do with us?" asked Kitty.

"Your position in life ensures you will not suffer such deprivation," said Mr. Darcy.

"Unless your father passes and we must leave Longbourn with no means of support," said Mrs. Bennet, regarding her youngest pointedly.

Trust Mrs. Bennet to bring up the entail at such a time, though Elizabeth supposed she was not incorrect. Mr. Darcy smiled at Mrs. Bennet, nodded, and turned back to Kitty.

"Just so. As a young woman of your station, it is your responsibility to learn what you must to move in society successfully. As my aunt said, London is not Meryton. The expectations will be higher, and you must know what they are to find success. Rather than looking at your parents' plan with horror, remember the benefits, for you will someday move in a society that has much more to offer than what you are accustomed to. Keep hold on that when you think your lessons are weighing you down."

The girls were quiet and thoughtful after Mr. Darcy's advice, such that they had a pleasant visit. When he rose to go, Mrs. Bennet unsubtly directed Elizabeth to see Mr. Darcy to the door, which she did without complaint. As they reached the drive, where Mr. Darcy's horse awaited his return, she turned to him.

"Thank you for that bit of wisdom, Mr. Darcy. Kitty and Lydia rarely consider anything other than their immediate gratification. I believe you prompted them to think of something more than endless revelry."

"It is no trouble, Miss Bennet," said Mr. Darcy, bowing over her hand. "I will anticipate seeing you again when you come to Netherfield for dinner."

With that, the gentleman mounted his horse and rode away, Elizabeth watching him as he went. Upon entering the house again, Mary addressed her.

"I know you dislike Mr. Darcy, Lizzy, but I must say that I consider him a good sort of man."

"Believe me, Mary," said Elizabeth, "my opinion has altered significantly."

Mary eyed her for a moment, and then said one word: "Good."