by Zoë Burton
Elizabeth’s head snapped toward Mary. “In love with him? Well, I-. We have only-.” She huffed and looked away again.
“Lizzy, I am not saying I believe all the romantic drivel in novels, but there are people who fall in love quickly. It is entirely possible that you have done so, despite only knowing him for a few weeks.” Mary shrugged. “There is nothing inherently wrong with it. Everyone is different.”
“Your arguments make sense. I know they do.” Elizabeth waved a hand for emphasis then let it fall. “I do not know if I love him, nor do I know how he feels about me. We have not discussed it and since he is not here, we cannot.”
“He will return as soon as he can.”
“Yes, I know. I trust him, I do. He has not lied to me yet. I only wish he were here again.”
Mary slipped off the bed, tying the belt of her wrapper tighter. “I think you need to spend some time contemplating your true feelings.” She kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “I suspect you are far more in love with Mr. Darcy than you are aware of. Good night.”
Elizabeth mumbled a quiet good night, rising from the bed to follow her younger sister to the door. Turning the lock, she wandered back to the bed, climbing in before blowing out the candle. “Am I in love with him?” She rubbed her temple, where a headache was beginning to bloom. “No, I do not want another one. I will not think about this anymore tonight.” She closed her eyes and emptied her mind, and soon was asleep.
~~~***~~~
Elizabeth stuck her head into her father’s book room, he having left the door open, his signal to his family that he was available to be spoken to. “I am going for a walk, Papa. Mr. Hill has asked Robbie to go with me again. I should be back before breakfast is served.”
Bennet looked out into the foggy morning, a crease forming between his brows, before returning his gaze to his favourite daughter. “You will be careful?”
“Yes, Papa.” Elizabeth controlled the urge to roll her eyes. “I will stick to the paths. I promise.” She tried to arrange her face into an encouraging expression but was uncertain she had succeeded.
Bennet frowned but waved his hand. “Very well. I will see you when you return.”
Elizabeth’s answering smile was brilliant. Without a word, she spun around and rushed to the front door, eager to be on her way. She nodded at Robbie, who fell into step behind her. The tall, brawny groom with the long legs had a far easier time keeping up with her than the older and shorter Mr. Hill did, and Elizabeth was pleased with the change.
As she briskly strode along the paths that led away from her home, Elizabeth was contemplating Mary’s words of the night before. Do I love him? Already? I am willing to admit I like him very much. What if I do love him? If he returns the feelings, all is well, but what if he does not? Can I be happy loving and not being loved in return?
Elizabeth strode along the path as though trying to outrun her thoughts and feelings. Finally, she reached a small bridge that crossed a stream. She stopped in the middle, leaning against the railing and looking down into the water. She sighed. I cannot go on this way. I am not formed for unhappiness. I will accept that what I am feeling could be love and leave it at that. She shook her head. If he should happen to not return my feelings, I will survive. We have our entire lives for him to learn to love me, and me him.
With those thoughts, she straightened, continuing on the path, though at a much slower pace. When she reached a fork, she chose the right-hand path, which she knew would take her back to the house. She squinted up at the sun, determining that she still had plenty of time to get back before her sisters and mother came down to break their fasts.
~~~***~~~
Later that day, Elizabeth sat with her mother, Jane, and Mary in the drawing room. Mr. and Mrs. Collins were seated nearby. They had extended their visit by two days, planning to leave on Monday now, instead of Saturday as was originally decided. Mrs. Bennet had fussed about it in the privacy of her rooms and had determined she would say nothing at all to the couple.
Elizabeth had examined Mrs. Collins carefully when she came down. The lady had remained in her rooms the entirety of the previous day, requesting trays be sent up to her. Elizabeth wondered if she had been beaten, but there were no marks on her that could be seen. However, she did move stiffly at times, and Elizabeth was certain the woman had winced at least once. She wished she could do something to help and was frustrated that her hands were tied in the matter.
The clatter of hooves and wheels sounded outside, interrupting Mr. Collins, who was speaking as he always did, while his listeners attempted to ignore him.
“I wonder if that is Mr. Darcy.” Mrs. Bennet looked at her second daughter. “Is it not about time he returned?”
“I am uncertain of his plans, but I do hope it is he.” Elizabeth put a ribbon in her book to mark her page before lowering it to her lap, clasped in her hands.
A loud voice could be heard in the entry way, and the Bennets exchanged quizzical glances. Suddenly, the door was thrust open and a well-dressed older lady marched in. Mrs. Hill followed, wringing her hands.
“Lady Catherine De Bourgh, ma’am.” The housekeeper did her best to introduce the newcomer, despite the lady’s insistence upon doing what she wished instead of what was proper.
Mrs. Bennet and her daughters rose, as did the Collinses.
“Lady Catherine, what an honour to see you.” Collins bowed deeply. “I never expected you to come all the way to Longbourn, but of course, someone of your exalted presence is most welcome. Most welcome, indeed!”
Lady Catherine inclined her head to her clergyman, then looked past him to his wife, narrowing her eyes. “Mrs. Collins, I am pleased to see you looking so well.”
The rector’s wife blushed, curtseying awkwardly. “Thank you, madam.”
Lady Catherine continued to examine Mrs. Collins as the rest of the party waited in silence. Finally, she told the other woman to sit and looked Mr. Collins in the eye. “I will speak to you before I leave. Be seated and wait. Do not make any attempt to avoid the conversation.”
Mr. Collins stiffened, his eyes flashing for just a moment. He paled slightly when he looked into his patroness’ eyes and acquiesced. With a regal tilt of his head, he sat in the chair he had recently vacated.
Lady Catherine now turned her attention to the Bennets. “Which of you is Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”
With a momentary drawing together of her brows and a glance at her mother, Elizabeth stepped forward. “I am Elizabeth Bennet.”
Lady Catherine looked Elizabeth up and down. Her nose rose into the air. “I wish to speak to you on a matter of utmost importance.” She glanced around the room. “I noticed a prettyish little wilderness area in your garden. We may speak there.”
Mrs. Bennet could be quiet no longer. “That is perfect! Do escort our guest out there, Lizzy. I will order tea.” She bustled over to the fireplace and pulled the cord.
“Very well.” Elizabeth held out her arm. “Please, accompany me.” She led the elder lady out of the drawing room and through the entry hall.
Neither woman had anything to say as they marched out toward the walled-off part of the garden. Elizabeth wondered at the lady’s visit, for her behaviour was odd. She had not offered congratulations, so if she was, indeed, Darcy’s aunt, she must not know about his impending marriage. Since the woman was unknown to her, Elizabeth had no other ideas about why she would have come to Longbourn to see her.
When they arrived at their destination, Elizabeth stopped a few feet inside. Lady Catherine continued a little further before spinning around to face her.
“Do you know who I am?”
Elizabeth blinked. Not being inclined to share more information than she had to, she replied with a simple, “No, I am sorry. I do not.”
Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes. “Do you know a Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire?”
“I do.” Elizabeth clasped her hands in front of her, keeping her mien bland.
“I am his aunt; his closest rel
ation.”
“I am pleased to meet you. He has said little of his family, other than his sister is younger than he and his uncle is an earl.” Elizabeth smiled.
Lady Catherine sniffed. “The earl is my brother. I am Mr. Darcy’s mother’s sister. Lady Anne Darcy and I were very close.”
Elizabeth bowed her head. “I am sorry for your loss. Mr. Darcy informed me that she passed away several years ago.”
“And, did he inform you of the agreement his mother made with me?” Lady Catherine came closer.
Elizabeth’s head rose. “I am sorry, he did not. As I said, he has spoken very little about his family; he has not had much time to do so.”
“I see.” Lady Catherine paused, looking Elizabeth up and down. “My rector tells me you are engaged to my nephew.”
Elizabeth lifted her chin, directing her gaze into Lady Catherine’s eyes. “He should not have. It was not his place. My father gave him clear instructions that he was not to mention any of us in his letters, especially not to you.”
Something flickered in the lady’s eyes. She drew one corner of her mouth down. “Yes, well, I am not surprised at Mr. Collins’ disobedience. One more thing for me to speak to him about.” She lifted her chin, looking down her nose at Elizabeth. “Mr. Darcy cannot be engaged to you; he is betrothed to my daughter and has been since his infancy.”
The words struck Elizabeth hard. Her eyes widened momentarily, and she took a step back. Regaining control of herself, she arranged her features into a polite mask. “I am surprised to hear it. I wonder if Mr. Darcy himself might be the same. He has always presented himself as an honourable gentleman. I cannot imagine he would hide something like this, nor can I think he would offer for me if he was truly engaged to another.”
“You say he has not had time to speak to you of his family. I cannot help but wonder why that is.” Lady Catherine’s sharp eyes observed her opponent carefully.
“We have not been engaged long.” Elizabeth hated to confess anything to this woman.
“How long ago did he propose?”
Elizabeth was beginning to be annoyed by the questions, but since this was Darcy’s aunt, decided she deserved the benefit of the doubt. “A little more than a fortnight.” Her eyes flashed as she spoke, her fingers clasped tightly together.
“And your courtship? How long have you known him?” Lady Catherine paced a short distance away and turned.
Elizabeth thought quickly, still desiring to keep this woman in the dark as much as possible. “I cannot tell you. I suffered a head injury that left me without some of my memories.” She hoped God would forgive her for lying. She knew very well she did not meet Darcy before the accident, but it was true that she still did not recall the incident that took her memory away and left her with headaches. She rubbed briefly at her temples.
Lady Catherine marched back toward Elizabeth. “I know my nephew. He is, as you say, an honourable gentleman.” She paused. “I received a letter from him recently, in which he alludes to a situation he wishes to extract himself from. A situation with a lady.” She paused again, a glint flashing in her eye as she recalled the letter in which he insisted he would not marry her daughter. She had dismissed it then as she had every time he had said the same thing before. He will marry her, if I have to force him to do it, she thought.
Elizabeth said nothing. She could hardly believe what the woman was saying. It did not seem like something the Darcy she knew would say or do, but how well did she really know him? “Your nephew wishes to …?” She trailed off, not certain how to word her question.
“He wishes to break things off with a lady. I can only assume it is you. Clearly, he sees he has made a mistake and wishes to rectify it.”
“I see.” She did not, really, but Elizabeth wished to be finished with this conversation as soon as possible. She could tell from Lady Catherine’s mannerisms, and hear in her words, that the woman was trying to intimidate her. As always happened in those situations, Elizabeth’s courage began to rise. She was not going to allow this unknown person, a total stranger, tell her what to do or make her feel worthless. “Speak plainly, madam. What is it you want from me?”
“I want you to promise me you will not marry him.” Lady Catherine stepped closer to Elizabeth, so close they were almost touching. “Send him on his way. File no suits for breach of promise. Just send him away.” She looked around her and then through the gate to the house. “You are too low for him. His family will shun you; his friends will laugh at you. Your best choice is to let him go to marry where he is intended, to join two great houses into one.” She sniffed, looking Elizabeth up and down once more. “Then you can marry appropriately, to one of your own circle. Leave my nephew to his.”
Gritting her teeth, Elizabeth met Lady Catherine’s sneer with one of her own. “If you think for a moment that I am going to allow someone so wholly unconnected to me as you are dictate my future happiness, you are mistaken. I will not send Mr. Darcy away. If he wishes to go, he is free to, but I will not break my engagement.” She took a deep breath and stepped back. “I have nothing further to say to you. Good day, Lady Catherine.” She turned on her heel and marched back to the house, the elder woman’s threats ringing in her ears and following her all the way to the door.
Chapter 19
Once inside, Elizabeth ascended the staircase without looking into the drawing room. She entered her bedchamber, ripping off her bonnet and forgetting to lock the door. She tossed the bonnet on the dressing table and began to pace, the pounding in her head becoming increasingly loud and painful.
The door behind her opened. “Lizzy?” Jane and Mary stepped in. Mary shut the door behind her, turning the lock.
Elizabeth faced her sisters, her hands pressed to her temples. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She was too angry to be articulate. She closed her mouth again, spinning away toward the window.
Jane approached, laying a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “What happened? Are you well?” Jane peered into her sister’s face. “You have a headache.” She looked back at Mary, who was approaching. “I think we need willow bark tea and a cold cloth.”
Just as Mary turned to prepare the cloth and call for tea, Elizabeth cried out, the pain in her head blooming. She bent forward, hands clasped to her temples.
“Lizzy!” Jane’s cry made Mary turn and hurry to Elizabeth’s other side. The pair of them assisted her to the bed, making her recline.
Elizabeth was soon tucked up under a blanket, a cold cloth over her eyes. She rested the remainder of the day, one of her sisters always with her.
~~~***~~~
William Collins watched from behind his open bedchamber door as the middle Bennet daughter left one room and walked down the hall. Though the distance was significant between his room and the family wing, he remembered what each of the girls had worn earlier in the day. This one was dressed in a gown of somber colours, as she always did. Collins admitted to himself that she appeared to be a pious young lady. Still, he thought, even good girls need my help to be better. Mary was not the most beautiful of the five, but she was attractive enough, and had a well-developed figure that more than made up for any other lack. Collins felt a stirring in his belly as he thought of her and what she might do if he approached her.
Collins had suffered through a lecture from his patroness today, who told him in no uncertain terms he was to leave his wife alone and allow her to heal. How she knew he had beaten Harriet he did not know. He had made sure he did not leave marks where anyone could see them. The stupid cow probably limped or something. He shook his head.
Collins was torn between doing what his patroness told him to, and doing what he had learned was proper for a husband. His father had regularly beaten him and his mother, and had instilled in his son the idea that women were inferior creatures. “They are stupid, and you must take what you want from them. Never give a woman a choice,” the elder Collins used to say. “You do not have to marry one, either, until it com
es time to get an heir.”
Collins had followed his father’s advice all his life, despite the lessons about fornication he learned in church. When his natural urges had overtaken him, he looked around until he found a comely woman and took her. He learned quickly to stick to women of a lower social class who would not go to his father and try to cause him trouble.
When he got to University, he continued this behaviour. He felt some guilt now and again, but his desires and the certainty he had that he was superior to females outweighed any bad feelings.
Once Collins gained his living and his patroness urged him to find a wife, he assumed all the ladies around Hunsford, where his parsonage was located, would be eager to be the companion of his future life. After examining every eligible female in the area, he settled upon Miss Harriet Beaumont. He was shocked when she did not immediately accept his proposal. Thinking she was behaving modestly, and increasing his love by suspense, he persisted, but she continued to rebuff him. Finally, he did what he had always done to get what he wanted from women. He effected a compromise, making certain to be seen this time. It worked, and Miss Beaumont’s parents forced her to marry him.
The first time his wife had hinted to Lady Catherine that he mistreated her, he took her home and explained in clear terms that what happened in their home was to stay there. Mrs. Collins remained abed for several days afterwards. My esteemed father treated my mother in the same manner, and our home was always peaceful, Collins thought now, as he waited to see what happened with the Bennet girls.
Lady Catherine had made clear today that she expected him to leave his wife alone for the next se’ennight. Collins had been chagrinned. He had needs, and most of Bennet’s servants were footmen, not maids. He had not been able to get near a female alone in this house since he arrived. Collins hated being thwarted. He had come out of his room just now, intending to go to the book room and speak with his cousin, when he noticed a door opening way down the hall in the family wing. He had darted back into his room, peeking out between the door and the wall, below the upper hinge. He licked his lips and waited.