Chapter 12

The following morning was dry, a perfect crisp and clear autumn day. Elizabeth had to laugh when she descended the stairs to find both Robert and Claire waiting, dressed for a walk. Her first request was to have been to bring her pelisse yet Claire was holding it in readiness. She smiled broadly at the two of them.

“I am apparently a creature of routine.”

Five minutes later they were striding out of the grounds of the Manor, their usual brisk pace keeping them warm against the weather.

“May I ask how the evening went Miss Elizabeth?”

“Of course Claire. Did you not get the gist from Robert last night?”

“I was tired and once you were settled we too fell asleep quickly.”

“I see. Robert, would you start please.”

“Your aunt is a kind person Miss Elizabeth, and was grateful for the additional help. I think your uncle was even more grateful.”

A sharing of the physical burden.

“I ignored the regular residents of the area and instead focused on the Militia officers. I do not know if this is 100% accurate but the tales were consistent all night. The Colonel and the Major were both in the Regulars and have been appointed to the Militia due to wounds suffered in battle.”

“The Colonel told me himself that he had been wounded in the retreat with General Moore.”

Robert nodded his head.

“The two Captains are both sons of gentry but have many older brothers. I heard they were fourth, fifth or sixth sons and as there only two of them there is clearly some uncertainty. But it appears clear they are the lower sons of minor gentry, the equivalent of Miss Kitty or Miss Lydia if you were all sons rather than daughters. “

It was a good way to explain it. Forced to make their own way, but without the funds to purchase a commission in the Regulars.

“The Lieutenants are a mixed bag. They are all educated, three of them through university. Ten years ago, even five years ago, they would not have been eligible to be officers.”

“Why not?”

“Apparently there is a requirement to hold land to be an officer. There were various amounts bandied around but the most common was ￡50. To be a Militia officer you had to own land worth ￡50 a year. But with the ongoing war, and the demand for soldiers, they have waived that requirement. As long as you have a gentleman’s education they will accept you as a Lieutenant. But there can be no advancement to Captain without satisfying the requirement.”

“How did you hear all this?”

“I heard the man you met in the street yesterday, the new Lieutenant Mr. Wickham, moaning about the fact that he was stuck as a Lieutenant.”

“I presume you heard part of his tale of woe against Mr. Darcy?”

“I did.”

Elizabeth spent the next 30 minutes detailing her encounter with Mr. Wickham. She turned to Claire

“Your thoughts on all this?”

“There are too many unknowns. We know the two senior officers are honourable men. But for the rest we have the basics of their background but no knowledge of their character. We all know that the Militia are not here to protect us from the French, their role is to stop revolution. If there is a disturbance in London then they will be sent there immediately. They have done nothing to be trusted as yet. Equally they have done nothing to be distrusted either. So we remain on guard and watch them closely.”

Elizabeth sighed.

“My sisters, and my mother, will be ready to trust them immediately. Based on last night, they already do. And Mr. Wickham and his tale of woe?”

“Two things stand out, although I would have not thought of one of them if you had not mentioned it. The part about not speaking ill of the family, while doing exactly that, it seems glaringly obvious. The part I would not have considered is the requirement to be ordained. An appointment to a living means you have to be ordained. Even your cousin managed that.”

“We will come back to him in a minute. Go on.”

“If this Mr. Wickham was ordained then it would have been part of his narrative, another arrow to fire in his grievance against Mr. Darcy. That it was not mentioned suggests he is not ordained, therefore he could not have been granted the living. Such an obvious liar needs to be watched carefully.”

They walked in silence for several minutes.

“I do not particularly like Mr. Darcy but I think I should inform him of the lies Mr. Wickham is spreading.”

“You have eased up on your dislike of him, Miss Elizabeth?”

“A little. He was polite with me while we were at Netherfield and he listened to me when I discussed the war with him.”

Robert and Claire resisted the urge to look at each other. A gentleman listening to Miss Elizabeth always made her think well of him. Sadly the instances were rare.

“Anything new on Mr. Collins? Sorry, first did your time at the Inn reveal anything else?”

Robert flushed at the question.

“Er, well.”

Elizabeth flushed as well but rescued her footman.

“There were discussions regarding an establishment similar to that we would pass if we took a direct route to my uncle’s warehouse?”

Robert gratefully nodded. There were two routes from Gracechurch Street to the Gardiner warehouses. The shortest and most direct route went past a brothel. Normally Elizabeth would take the longer route to avoid passing it, but on occasion she had taken the shorter route. There was not such an establishment in Meryton.

“How on earth am I going to discuss that with anyone?”

“Do you have to?”

“I am worried about my two youngest sisters. Honeyed words from any of the officers would have their virtue at risk. Should I not ensure that the tradesmen’s daughters are similarly warned?”

“I am sorry to say this Miss Elizabeth but I think most of the fathers in Meryton will be aware of the risks. I do not think you need to say anything.”

Another deep sigh, another long pause in the conversation.

“Have you anything to add about the Rev Collins, Robert?”

“He annoyed everyone, even your aunt was tired of him by the end of the evening. But it is mostly due to the fact he never shuts up. Any silence, and there were precious few of them, was immediately filled with prattle about Rosings and his patroness. He does go on about her, and her estate.”

The Reverend William Collins was a harmless man, as long as you could keep him quiet.

“We should return to Longbourn. What say you to breaking our fast in Meryton. We can return their gig and I know they will be happy to feed us. It also spares me a few hours with Mr. Collins.”

--

Elizabeth had let the cook know that she would be in Meryton with her aunt and uncle, which was complying with the letter of her mother’s edict but hardly the spirit. She was saved from a harangue due to the fact that Mr. Bingley was in the parlour delivering their invitation to his ball. Elizabeth listened as he invited the whole family, including Mr. Collins. There had been moments when she wondered if she would be excluded from the invite due to the words between her and Miss Bingley. Mr. Bingley took the opportunity to request the first dance with Jane. When she granted him this dance Elizabeth could not tell who was more pleased, Jane, their mother, or Mr. Bingley himself. After his departure Elizabeth retired to her room, once again hiding from the persistent attentions of Mr. Collins. But she could only escape for so long, she had to eat with her family. The food was hardly on the table before Mr. Collins was talking yet again.

“I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair cousins in the course of the evening; and I take this opportunity of soliciting yours, Miss Elizabeth, for the two first dances especially.”

“You wish to open the ball with me Mr. Collins?”

“Yes cousin Elizabeth. How could I choose any other?”

Elizabeth had been unsure whether she would receive an invitation and now, less than two hours after the invitation was delivered she wished that she had been excluded. How on earth was she to escape this situation?

“We will discuss this later Mr. Collins.”

“Lizzie, you will accept this instant!”

Elizabeth stared at her mother, once again startled at the sheer volume of her screeching. She returned her gaze to Mr. Collins.

“We will discuss this later Mr. Collins.”

“Lizzie! You will do as I say right now. Accept Mr. Collins offer.”

The gaze of all the family were upon her. And she knew that all of the servants could hear Mrs. Bennet strident tones. She looked at her father, but there was no support there. If anything, his head was tilted with a mocking eye.

“Mr. Collins, I have been instructed by my mother to accept as you have heard.”

With that she started on her soup. Slowly everyone else follow suit and the resultant lunch was stilted and awkward. As Elizabeth rose to leave the table she was accosted by her mother.

“Lizzie, you are not to go and hide in your room. You will attend me in the parlour.”

“Of course.”

Elizabeth promptly returned to her bedroom in direct disobedience of Mrs. Bennet. Claire slipped into the room moments later.

“I only heard your mother’s words Miss Elizabeth but I assume that you were asked to dance by Mr. Collins?”

“Yes, the first set. What was the phrase, ‘how could I choose any other?’.”

“So you were forced to accept?”

Elizabeth sighed.

“I did not say yes, merely that I had been instructed by my mother to accept.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Write some letters. I hope that I can make it until Twelfth Night but even that is still six or seven weeks away. I do not think I will be long for Hertfordshire.”

“It is that bad? Sorry that is a silly thing to say. I suppose I am surprised that you think such drastic action is necessary.”

Before Elizabeth could reply Mrs. Hill, the housekeeper, knocked at the door.

“Your mother wants you downstairs in the parlour Miss Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, gathering her composure.

“Tell her I am dealing with some correspondence and will be down presently.”

Mrs. Hill merely nodded and left.

“You know your mother hates it when you say you will be there presently.”

“Why do you think I say it so often? As to drastic action, I hope it does not come to it, but I have to be realistic. I do not know how much longer my mother and I can co-exist.”

“How long until Mr. Collins returns to his parish?”

“Saturday next, nine days. Why?”

“Disruptions to her routine make your mother less calm.”

Elizabeth thought that was the nicest way to describe manic she had ever heard.

“You think it will be better after Mr. Collins leaves?”

“Perhaps. Please forgive me for saying this but I believe Mr. Collins has additional plans for you Miss Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth had been trying to convince herself that Mr. Collins was not singling her out. That Claire said the same thing shattered her fragile construct. She sat silently, just nodding her head.

“If he asks and you say no, what are the consequences?”

“Other than the usual screeching, I do not know.”

--

The next six days were a daily trial for Elizabeth. The weather was ghastly and everyone was confined indoors. Her father hid in his study, ignoring Mr. Collins. Her mother was extra shrill, especially when talking to Elizabeth. And other than Mary, her sisters were no help. Lydia openly mocked her with no remonstration from either parent and Jane took the opportunity to hide. Because Mr. Collins would not leave Elizabeth alone. It would not have been her choice but she could have coped if he had at least been quiet. Of course this was anything but the case. Elizabeth idly wondered if Mr. Collins was an anti-Trappist. Rather than minimal verbal communication he adhered to the opposite. She had to stop herself from mentally wandering down heretical and sacrilegious musings. So she was stuck day after day with a dribbling idiot while her mother sat there looking smug.

And as had occurred far too many times since her return to Hertfordshire, Elizabeth contemplated her notions of family. Because she was thoroughly confused. The house was silent, everyone was asleep, but she lay on her bed unable to calm her whirring mind. Certainties of her youth were no longer the case. Even her thoughts of four years earlier were being challenged.

She had gone to London to aid her family. It was not something that took any time, there was no consideration of the costs of such an action, it had been the work of a moment, from thought to deed. Family supported family, when the rest of the world could not be relied upon, you could rely on family. The action she was sure of, the maxim on family was the exact opposite.

God’s will and the actions of others were her next source of consideration. That her parents had five daughters was God’s will. That scarlet fever had wiped out all of her father’s family was also in the hands of God. Yet the entail which seemed to consume every waking moment of her mother was the action of her great-grandfather, her own father’s grandfather. That there was still an entail on the estate was not the fault of any living soul. But the consequences of the entail on the other hand…

Her mother had strange notions of family. She expected to be saved by either her daughters or brother. A brother that she had visited once in four years. If Mr. Bennet was to die suddenly then Mrs. Bennet still expected her brother to save her, and any unmarried daughters. He had a new wife, four children of his own, young Edward could soon marry and become a father himself. But she expected her family to save her. And then there was Elizabeth, who despite having only returned weeks ago after four years helping Mrs. Bennet’s brother, was expected to marry the biggest buffoon in Britain. After all, family looks after family. Elizabeth’s own thoughts and action from four plus years earlier.

But it was the next stage that was provoking the most confusion. The actions of her parents, or rather their inaction. Elizabeth was not as devout as her sister Mary but she read her bible every week and had a good memory. Once she recalled the verse from Proverbs she could not get it out of her mind.

‘He becometh poor that dealeth with a slack hand: but the hand of the diligent maketh rich.’

When she first returned to Longbourn she had shied away from directly criticising her parents, even to herself. But it was fundamental to her confusion. Her parents had sacrificed nothing for their daughters. Elizabeth had, willingly, sacrificed four years for her family. And now it appeared that she was to be sold off so that her mother could continue to be Mistress of Longbourn. Elizabeth’s own wants and needs were not considered for a moment.

Which, of course, led not to confusion but anger. Daughters had no value other than to be sold off. It did not matter to whom, as long as the family gained from the transaction. And as Mr. Collins was the heir to the estate, the family would gain.

Elizabeth felt she had sacrificed enough for her family. Even if she had not spent four years in London then she still would reject the Reverend William Collins. She would not marry him if he was the last man on earth. Because what was clear was that her family did not know Elizabeth any more. And other than Mary, did not want to get to know her, understand her outlook on life, just be interested in her. Her sadness and anger were woven together.

--

It was Elizabeth’s anger that drove her response to the annoyance that was Mr. Collins. She borrowed her father’s copy of The Chronicles of the Kings of England by Robert Dodsley. She took to leaving it open at the page detailing the conflict between Henry II and Thomas Becket. Mr. Collins missed the reference entirely but both Mary and her father looked sharply at Elizabeth when they saw the same page again and again.

“Elizabeth, why are you always reading about the reign of Henry II?”

Her father’s tone was sharp, his usual indolence not in evidence.

“It falls open to that page. I am actually reading about Queen Matilda, the rightful female monarch ousted by the male usurper Stephen of Blois.”

For the first time in her life Elizabeth lied directly and without qualm to her father. Queen Matilda was a convenient excuse, and only a few pages away in the book. Sadly her subtle plan had been too subtle for Mr. Collins, though not for her father or sister. She knew it was wrong, and petty, but that was what she had been reduced to.

Finally the day of the ball dawned, the persistent rain had ended, leaving the paths and tracks muddy and sodden. Claire helped Elizabeth prepare but was unable to cheer her charge up as usual. Elizabeth was listless, her normal vitality missing. Claire and Robert were collected and left for Netherfield Park. The Bingleys had hired additional servants for the evening and Elizabeth had been happy for the two of them to earn some additional money. She also knew that she would be happier with both of them there, even if they were working.

There was no way that eight people could fit in the Bennet carriage so Mary and Elizabeth were once again able to ride with their Aunt and Uncle. Any concerns about a confrontation at the receiving line were for naught. Miss Bingley, equally concerned, had a footman call to her as Elizabeth approached. She greeted Mr. Bingley and then was able to slide past Miss Bingley while that lady looked over her shoulder. It was seamlessly done, a well-timed two second interruption. Miss Bingley appeared not to want to converse with Elizabeth, and she was happy to oblige. As they entered the ballroom Mr. Darcy approached.

“Miss Elizabeth, may I have the first set, if it is free?”

Elizabeth did not gape at this unexpected offer, but it was a close-run thing. Then she realised that the man in front of her had still not apologised to her sister. The petty devilment of the past week was still in evidence.

“I am sorry Mr. Darcy but that set is already taken by my cousin. No other sets are yet spoken for. And I happen to know that Mary here does not yet have a partner for the opening set. Would she be tolerable?”

Darcy visibly winced and lowered his head. Mary looked at her sister in astonishment.

“Of course. I would be honoured if you would grant me the opening set Miss Mary. And perhaps your second Miss Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth smiled and accepted his request, Mary similarly acceding.

“Shall we walk over to the refreshment table before it gets crowded? May I get you a drink?”

Mary and Elizabeth walked to a small table beside the refreshments and Darcy arrived with the requested lemonades. He stood with them, quietly conversing.

“You seem at ease this evening Mr. Darcy.”

Neither he nor Elizabeth missed the unsaid addition to her statement ‘unlike at the Assembly’.

“The persistent rain stopped my daily rides. Although the ground was sodden and there was no pace to my riding this morning, it was still good to have the wind in my face. None of life’s problems seem so insurmountable after a good ride. And even better, I received a letter from my sister. She talked of Christmas at Pemberley, our estate, and I was filled with early Christmas cheer. So nothing substantive, just small things that have brought me pleasure. The rain must have curtailed life at Longbourn as well. How did you pass the time?”

Where was this charming gentleman eight weeks ago?

“I read extensively as you are aware, and maintain a large correspondence, so there was reading and writing as usual. We also have our cousin visiting. He is the heir to the estate and this is the first time the family have met him. He has taken up much of our free time.”

She was proud that she managed to say that without sarcasm. Mary moved the topic of conversation away from Mr. Collins.

“I enjoy playing the piano and Lizzie brought several new pieces with her when she returned from London. My free time is spent practicing at the piano.”

“My sister also plays the piano, like you she spends many hours at the piano. Do you mind my asking what were the new compositions Miss Elizabeth purchased?”

“The one that is the most complex is by Herr Beethoven. It is the arrangement of his Violin Concerto, Opus 61, for the piano. It will take me many weeks of practice to become even acceptable never mind proficient. Has your sister played this piece?”

“Not to my knowledge but she often acquires new works herself. I know that I have not bought it for her and will ask her the next time I see her. It sounds a challenging work, something that she will enjoy.”

The time before the first dance had been very pleasantly spent, for all three parties. But as Elizabeth spied the approaching Mr. Collins she knew her penance for such moments of enjoyment was upon her. Mary allowed herself to be led to the dance floor, pleased at the looks of surprise upon her neighbour’s faces, yet daunted at the same time.

“Cousin Elizabeth, I have been searching for you. It is time for our dance.”

“You clearly did not search very diligently Mr. Collins, as I have been here ever since we arrived.”

Elizabeth had not been hiding but had allowed Mr. Darcy to shield her from the gaze of most of the other attendees. She took her place opposite Mr. Collins, making little effort to appear happy. She knew that she could not get away with unhappy but there would be no smiling with this partner. The first set of two dances, each of more than 10 minutes, should have taken close to 30 minutes. As it turned out, Elizabeth lasted only seven. In addition to all his other offences, an appalling dancer could be added to the list. Mr. Collins went the wrong way and so collided with Elizabeth, in the process treading on her dress and slipper. He had not packed light dancing shoes, why would he expect to be at a ball, and so his heavy shoes crushed Elizabeth’s foot.

She wanted to drop to the ground immediately but at least managed to limp out of line and ease herself into a chair. Claire moved the useless Mr. Collins out of the way, kneeling down and gently touching the foot. Elizabeth winced at even that gentle touch.

“Come Miss Elizabeth, let us away to the retiring room where I can check to see if Mr. Collins has broken your foot.”

Throughout all this Mr. Collins had been his usual verbose yet useless self. Leaning heavily on Claire Elizabeth limped to the retiring room abandoning Mr. Collins without a backward glance.

“It is not broken, is it?”

“No, it does not appear to be, just bruised heavily. It will be at least a week before you can take any more of your brisk four mile hikes.”

“No more dancing for me this evening then?”

“Definitely not Miss Elizabeth.”

“Let us wait here until the end of the first set so that I do not have to deal with Mr. Collins. I will find a table and rest until supper.”

As the music ended Elizabeth returned to the ballroom, still with a pronounced limp, but gingerly able to place weight on her foot. Mr. Collins rushed towards her but Elizabeth took a step back behind Claire.

“Step back Mr. Collins, you have done enough damage already.”

“Cousin Elizabeth I am most dreadfully sorry. To think that I have injured you. I am desolate. Lady Catherine.”

Elizabeth interrupted him before another longwinded overblown speech started. She saw Mary and Mr. Darcy approaching and needed to warn Mary to be careful as she was his next partner. She took Mary aside.

“Be careful with our cousin. He has no clue as to the steps of the dance. Protect your feet at all costs. He has badly bruised mine already. Good luck.”

It was clear to all around them what Elizabeth was imparting and there one or two smirks in the direction of Mr. Collins.

“I am afraid my dancing is over for the evening Mr. Darcy. I release you from our set.”

“I am sorry to hear that. May I help you to a seat and then get you another glass of lemonade?”

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy, that would be most kind.”

Elizabeth chose a seat at a small table at the unfashionable end of the ballroom, conveniently far removed from her mother, sitting with the other matrons. Darcy returned with her glass of lemonade and a glass of wine for himself.

“Since we cannot dance, may I sit with you?”

“Of course, I would enjoy the company.”

Elizabeth was surprised that she meant that last one. Claire moved a discreet distance away. After Darcy had taken a sip of his wine he looked over at Elizabeth.

“I want to thank you for forcing me to do something I should have done many weeks ago. I apologised to your sister during the dance. It is a poor reflection on me that it has taken me so long and only at your prodding. I confessed and explained that it was unpardonable of me to take out my frustration on an innocent bystander. I spouted such nonsense, anything to get Bingley to leave me alone. Miss Mary was very generous in accepting my apology. Apparently having a sister who I purchase music for, improved me in her estimation. So, thank you.”

Elizabeth nodded her head, no further words were necessary. As he had said, it had taken too long but it had now occurred. It was time to move past it.

“May I ask what you have been reading while we were all trapped inside by the weather?”

Elizabeth was careful in how she responded.

“My uncle subscribes to many magazines and journals and he forwards them to me once he has read them. We talk of the articles in our letters. Given my interest in the war on the Peninsula I have been trying to learn Spanish. I am slowly getting better but would not claim to be fluent, far from it. But it is an excellent way to pass the time. This past Monday I reread Walter Scott’s recent poem The Vision of Don Roderick. I hoped that on a second reading it would improve on me, but I confess it is a work that I am indifferent to. When I compare it to some of his earlier work I find it lacking.”

Darcy was happy at a private ball for the first time in what felt like years. He had an articulate woman to converse with, and he was sure Miss Elizabeth Bennet was incapable of simpering. They talked through the whole of the second set.

“Will you excuse me Miss Elizabeth. I should do my duty and dance with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. I am to dance with your oldest sister for the supper set so may I escort you to supper afterwards?”

“That is very kind Mr. Darcy. I accept.”

The next hour and a half passed slowly for Elizabeth, her foot throbbed and many people came to check on her but no one stayed. She would stay for supper but decided to retire early afterwards. There was no point in staying until the small hours of the morning when she could not dance.

At first supper was a continuation of the delightful conversation from earlier. But gradually Elizabeth became aware of the antics of her family. Jane was demurely talking with Mr. Bingley, her behaviour without reproach. Mary had been two places down from Elizabeth and again had been appropriate throughout dinner. But when it came time for the ladies to perform Mary suffered an attack of nerves and played poorly. She returned to her seat mortified at her performance. Her audience had heard her play the piece many times before and so was sympathetic but it did little to calm Mary. As she returned to her seat Elizabeth closed her eyes in embarrassment as Mr. Collins prattled on. The man just did not know when to be quiet.

But these were mere palate cleansers for the main course. Elizabeth watched in horror as Lydia cavorted round the room waving an officer’s sword about her. At one point she came close to stabbing Mr. Long in the arm. Only a swift step back saved him from impalement. It was clear that Lydia had joined Mr. Hurst at the refreshment table, she was well in her cups. Kitty followed behind Lydia equally drunk but at least not waving a cutlass above her head. And yet her mother managed to outdo both her youngest daughters. She was clear across the room but Elizabeth still heard her mother lauding the match between Jane and Mr. Bingley. To her knowledge Mr. Bingley had not yet applied for even a courtship but Mrs. Bennet was talking as if the marriage was all but settled. Supper could not finish too soon.

As soon as she was able Elizabeth retired for the evening. She had told Mr. Darcy at the end of supper and made her farewell to Mr. Bingley before the dancing started up again. She did not inform her mother, or indeed request permission, she just quietly left. She was in bed and sound asleep long before the ball was over. Even the drunken ruckus of the family returning did not rouse her from a deep sleep.

It had been an evening, a week, indeed a month, to forget.