21. Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

April 10, 1812 Hunsford, Kent Elizabeth

E lizabeth awoke slowly, disoriented. Morning sunlight streamed through the window, which did not make sense. Had she not been resting in the sitting room just moments ago?

“Careful, Lizzy.” Jane’s hand entered her field of vision, holding a glass of water. “Take a drink. You have been asleep since yesterday.”

“Yesterday? I do not recall…” Memories of the previous evening returned, and she sat up, gasping. Shaking now, she took the cup from Jane and drank deeply.

“I have heard from Charlotte that Mr. Darcy proposed. I am very happy for you.” Jane smoothed the fabric of the coverlet, not meeting Elizabeth’s gaze.

“It is not possible. He dislikes me!” Elizabeth shook her head forcefully. “I thought it was a dream! Yet your words tell me it really happened. I do not recall accepting… Oh! I must fix this. I need to get dressed and find him. It has all gone so wrong.”

Jane laid a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder, preventing her from getting out of the bed. “You are the only one who insists that Mr. Darcy does not like you. Now, please, let us speak. We do not have much time to discuss this before Lady Catherine finds out.”

“Lady Catherine? I do not want her to ‘find out!’ She will disapprove almost as much as I do!” Elizabeth stopped struggling against Jane’s hand and leaned back into her pillows. “I must end this sham of an engagement before my reputation is ruined!”

“Elizabeth.” Jane’s words were firm. “Do not throw away this chance.”

“Chance at what? Being married to a superior, proud, haughty man? To be subject to his whims? Never!” Her words came out hot and acidic. She would not marry a man she did not love.

“Proud and haughty he may be, but he loves you. Charlotte said he expressed his sentiments very well.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes, right after he said he ardently admired and loved me, he insulted our family, our connections… everything. Jane, how could you wish such a man on me? You might have chosen not to marry for love, but I will not give up on my dreams.” She immediately felt regret for her Lydia-like attitude, but struggled to know how to make amends.

Jane went silent. Her face was like a marble sculpture, beautiful yet oh, so cold. “I did marry for love, Elizabeth,” she said after a moment. “I married for the love of my family. It is time I tell you everything.”

Jane proceeded to relate to Elizabeth every detail of that fateful morning she had become engaged. Elizabeth listened silently. She tried to speak several times, but Jane always held up her hand to silence her.

“And just before I agreed to allow Papa to intervene, he began to cough violently. It went on for so long… He tried to hide the handkerchief, but I saw the blood.”

Jane fell silent. She fiddled with the skirt of her gown. Elizabeth said nothing, absorbing all her sister had said.

“So, you see, I did marry for love. I cannot repine my decision, for if our father is ailing, my marriage means my mother and sisters will have a place to live when he passes away.”

“Would you not have rather married for the love of your betrothed? Mr. Darcy worked on Mr. Bingley, preventing him from coming back! I have had it from Colonel Fitzwilliam. You would have me marry the man who destroyed the happiness of my most beloved sister? How can I betray you in such a way?”

Jane paled. “Stop it, Lizzy! Mr. Darcy is not to blame for Mr. Bingley’s caprice! He left me. That was his choice, not his friend’s and not his sisters’. Had he truly loved me, nothing would have stopped him from returning to my side. Would you have me tied to a man who listens to his sisters and his friend over his wife? At least with Mr. Collins I can exert some influence. My voice would have been drowned out by the likes of Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst had I married their brother.”

Elizabeth rallied as Jane’s words gave her another argument. “But why must I marry Mr. Darcy? I will have a place, too, will I not?”

Jane hesitated, and then shook her head.

Elizabeth gaped. “Jane? You would deny me a home?”

“You know I would not. But my husband…”

“Mr. Collins is a fool and easily led. You could—”

“No.” Jane replied harshly. “Despite his deficiencies, he is my husband, and you will not insult him. I am more aware of what influence I have over him than you are. It took weeks of persuading for Mr. Collins to allow me to invite you. He did not wish to see you again, calling you foolish and all manner of things. He only relented when the idea struck him that your visit would show you what you lost, make you feel regret for refusing him. He was not pleased that I invited Charlotte, too.”

“What has he against Charlotte?”

Jane shook her head. “She will be here soon. You can ask her then. Elizabeth, Mr. Collins will not let you live with us. He can likely be convinced to allow our younger sisters and Mama to stay at Longbourn, but he will not welcome you.”

“Mama would never allow me to be cast out.” Her words held doubt. She and her mother had not exchanged a dozen words since Elizabeth had refused Mr. Collins. Her letters, likewise, were not as warm as those she wrote to Jane. Maybe her mother would allow her son-in-law–her savior– to refuse her second child a place in his home.

Jane shifted and stuck her hand in her pocket. Out came a letter and she unfolded it. “This came yesterday. Read the last paragraph.”

Elizabeth did as she was bid. The handwriting she instantly recognized as her mother’s.

Remind your selfish, stubborn sister that she had best return to Longbourn engaged or she will know my wrath. I have written to her only once since she left in December, and I will not do so again until I have word of her betrothal. She will not stay with me when your father dies.

It confirmed her innermost fears. “Is she still so set on this?” she said weakly, already knowing Jane’s answer. “Surely, she would not cast me out if I were in need?”

Jane nodded. “Every letter I have had from her contains something of this nature. When have you known our mother to cling so stubbornly to anything?”

Elizabeth’s heart sank. “She has never.”

“Precisely. Mama is set on this. She reminded me in one letter that at her word, Aunt Phillips would turn you away. Our aunt and uncle in London may welcome you, but they could not afford another mouth for long.”

Desperation colored her tone. “Could you not work on your husband?” She would rather be subject to Mr. Collins than Mr. Darcy. She pursed her lips. On second thought, perhaps not.

Jane smiled sadly and spoke, interrupting Elizabeth’s inner musings. “You forget: Mr. Collins’s first love is Lady Catherine. When she finds out that you are engaged to Mr. Darcy, her fury will know no bounds. My husband will cast you out on principle. I believe it would be prudent to have your trunks packed in readiness for her displeasure.”

“How has she not heard? Surely, a servant witnessed Mr. Darcy’s proposal.”

“Sir Andrew bribed the maid to wait until tea today. We are to attend. I understand he paid her half a crown.”

“A veritable fortune.” Elizabeth sighed. “I cannot understand your husband. To do so is dishonorable. Is he so cruel?” Maybe Mr. Darcy truly is the best choice given my circumstances.

The door opened as if on cue and Charlotte came in. “He can be, when it suits him,” she said. “May I, Jane?”

Jane nodded and Charlotte took a seat on the edge of the bed. She told her part of the tale, of Mr. Collins’s haphazard, short courtship and how he had raised her expectations and hopes, only to dash them by proposing to Jane after his honor was engaged to Charlotte.

“And you are married to such a man, Jane?” Elizabeth cried. “How can you bear it?”

“For the love of my family,” Jane repeated. “It is why I am here, attempting to talk you into marrying a man I know you do not love.”

“I do not even like him!” Elizabeth folded her arms and shook her head.

“Methinks thou dost protest too much, dear sister.”

Jane leaned forward and patted Elizabeth’s folded arm. “You have laughed at plenty of others who insulted you, gentlemen and ladies alike, and never become so vehemently against them. He loves you. Is that not a better foundation to build a marriage upon than most? It is certainly more than I had, and I am quite content. I have grown rather fond of my husband, all things considered.”

“I dream of love, not fondness.” Elizzabeth sighed.

“I have always said, happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance,” Charlotte cut in. “Jane’s situation proves it. Eliza, Lady Catherine will learn of Mr. Darcy’s proposal, even if you do not accept him. Word will end up at Longbourn and your mother’s anger will double. Then what will you do? You, a single lady of little fortune, cannot stay away from your home forever.”

Elizabeth did not say anything for several long moments. When she spoke, her words were slow and careful. “I have much to consider. Please, let me do so in solitude.”

Her sister and her friend stood up and left the room without another word. Elizabeth got out of bed and dressed herself in a simple gown, styling her hair in a knot at the base of her neck. She moved the chair in front of her window and sat there, gazing out at the landscape without seeing anything.

She believed she could manage if her mother turned her out and Mr. Collins refused to welcome her into his home. She could find employment as a governess or companion… She paused, considering. She knew she had a better education than most ladies of her station, but did she have enough knowledge to guide another person’s children? Her French was passable. She knew her history but had only a little knowledge of science. She could handle accounts and expenses, but her mathematical skills did not go beyond.

And companions were subject to the whims of their employer. Could Elizabeth trust herself to keep a civil, submissive tongue in her head? Her impertinence amused Lady Catherine, the most exalted person she knew personally, but how would another react?

But I do not love him, she protested inwardly. His very presence is objectionable. He causes my heart to pound with frustration and anger. How can I consign myself to a life devoid of marital affection?

She had seen how well such an arrangement had worked for her parents. Her father teased her mother endlessly, taking delight in vexing her and provoking her nerves. Mama responded by spending money so that she felt better. Desperation had driven Mrs. Bennet to extremes; was it any surprise that she was often overwrought? She had five practically dowerless daughters to marry off and a husband that did not support her endeavors to do so.

Her mother’s anger suddenly made sense. From a certain point of view, Mrs. Bennet had sacrificed saving money for attiring her daughters fashionably in hopes that their charms would entice a suitor. She had pushed Mr. Collins toward her second child, unwisely perhaps, but for the sake of seeing at least one of her daughters well settled and her future secure. Mrs. Bennet spoke of hedgerows, but would not her unmarried children be joining her there if Mr. Collins cast them all out?

He says he ardently admires and loves me, Elizabeth recalled. Can one-sided affection provide enough of a foundation to have a happy marriage? She could not easily forget his insult to her and his disdain for those she loved and esteemed, nor could she forget Mr. Darcy’s ill treatment of Mr. Wickham. But perhaps time could change his scorn for her family. He has already met my aunt Gardiner and formed a rapport with her. Granted, he and Mrs. Gardiner had something in common they could build a rapport around.

Oh, what am I to do? She did not know, but she would need to have a decision before teatime.