by P. O. Dixon
“Lt. Wickham is, of course, a guest, Your Grace, as are you, unless I am mistaken,” she replied in a tone that only the sister of a duke would deign to use while speaking to him in the company of others who were so decidedly beneath him in consequence.
Changing his manner to be rather less severe, Avery said, “There is an excellent prospect that I saw on my way here that I should like to explore further. Join me, Elizabeth.”
She knew that tone. Now was not the time to afford him any opposition. “If that is your wish,” she said deferentially.
“Indeed,” said Avery.
Mrs. Bennet, again desiring to bestow upon him her most ardent approbation said, “I suppose you speak of Oakham Mount—it is a beautiful prospect indeed. Jane, perhaps you will wish to join your sister and His Grace.” The fact that she intended Jane for the duke could not have escaped anyone’s notice.
Avery said, “That is a very kind offer, Mrs. Bennet, and I should like very much to accommodate your request, but I need time alone with my sister—with Elizabeth.”
Not long thereafter, the two walked along in silence for a while, one displeased and the other vexed. Elizabeth was the first to speak. “That was incredibly rude of you just then.”
“Did you honestly expect me to remain in company with that vile man?”
“No doubt you are referring to Mr. Wickham. Why do you hate him so much?”
“I have my reasons. I take it he is part of the local militia. How long has he been here, and does he make it a habit of calling on you?”
“I fail to see what business any of this is of yours.”
“So, is that how it is, little Sister?”
“Indeed, my dear big brother.”
“I see you are as stubborn as ever. You ought to know that as I have been protecting you for as long as I can remember, I do not intend to stop now. Like it or not, you will always be my little sister.”
“I dare say you will not have me behave any other way.”
“No, I wouldn’t. I never wish to see you changed. Now, as you are determined not to answer my questions in a manner that I deem acceptable, perhaps you and I shall discuss other, more important, matters.”
Avery calling her sister and admonishing her, Elizabeth calling him brother and challenging him—it was as natural as night and day. Elizabeth dearly missed him. She laced her arm through his and rested her head on Avery’s arm as they walked along, side by side. “This is truly wonderful. I like having my brother here with me.”
“I don’t know how long you will feel that way once you hear what I have to say.”
“Pray you are not about to remind me of my duty to find a husband?”
“I shall never relinquish my responsibility to see that you are well settled, young lady.”
“Well, it seems that you and Mama have a lot in common,” said Elizabeth referring to Mrs. Bennet. With two women contending for her heart in that regard, in her mind she thought of one as Mama and the other as Mother. It was simpler that way.
Avery said, “A wise woman indeed.”
“You may not agree when you find out her plans for you, Your Grace.”
“Me?”
“You must have discerned that she has targeted you as a future son-in-law.”
Avery chuckled. “Pray which of your lovely sisters does Mrs. Bennet have in mind as the next Duchess of Dunsmore?”
“I do not believe Mama cares which of my sisters you decide on as long as you choose one of them; though I suppose if left completely up to her, I think she would pick Jane, for she is the oldest and the most beautiful, and, if I do say so myself, Jane is the most deserving.”
“I confess that I would be most fortunate to have her indeed. However, as you well know, my heart belongs to another.”
Elizabeth chose to say nothing in response to Avery’s pronouncement.
“You should also know that I have every intention of declaring myself to Miss Hamilton when the time is right.”
While the duke was alive, he was determined that his only grandson would never marry Miss Margaret Hamilton owing to her low connections. Although her father was a gentleman, he had married a woman whose family’s wealth was earned in trade. Heaven forbid that the future Duke of Dunsmore should tarnish the Montlake name in such a disgraceful manner by marrying so far beneath him. With the late duke’s passing, Elizabeth could think of but one thing that must be preventing her brother from acting right away, that being the Montlake family scandal.
Avery immediately sought to change the subject. “You and I were discussing your future marital felicity, I believe. As I said, I shall not abdicate my responsibility even if I do have such a staunch ally in Mrs. Bennet.”
Elizabeth knew exactly what Avery was about when he changed the subject. This suited her just fine. Miss Margaret Hamilton was the last person Elizabeth wished to discuss—ever. Elizabeth’s spirits soon rose to playfulness, and she thought a bit of teasing was just what the occasion warranted. “Pray tell, dear Brother, do you have a specific gentleman in mind?” While her question was innocent enough on the surface, she was quite certain of the implications for both of them should he decide to be serious when she only meant to be light hearted.
“As it turns out, I do. However, I shall keep my opinion on the matter to myself for now, if you do not mind. Besides, there is a matter I wish to discuss with you. It has to do with Darcy.”
Her pulse quickened. At last, she would finally be able to speak with Avery on a matter that was near and dear to her heart that she did not dare raise herself. “Mr. Darcy? Have you spoken to him? Is he in town?”
“I am afraid it has been some time since I last spoke to Darcy—not since we were all together at Pemberley. I did write to him, however; I have received no response that I am aware of. On the other hand, I have been traveling and should he have written to me, the letter may have gotten lost.”
“I suppose there is the possibility that Mr. Darcy may have been traveling as well.”
“If only that were the case, but I am afraid that may not be very likely.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Elizabeth said, her voice heightened in concern.
“Elizabeth, there is something I have wanted to tell you, and I did not think it would be proper to write to you and tell you in a letter.”
The tumult in Elizabeth’s mind was now terribly great and all in a matter of seconds. Her heartbeat raced. “Avery, you must tell me at once.”
“Darcy was in an accident. His carriage overturned.”
Elizabeth missed a step and felt herself incapable of supporting her own weight. Avery gripped her by the arm in a tender offer of support.
“Fear not, Darcy is alive, but I understand he sustained extensive injuries, and for a time he was purportedly in and out of consciousness.”
She sucked in her breath. “What type of injuries?”
“I know not the true extent of his injuries, but I—”
Elizabeth interrupted, “Oh, Avery, how could you have not told me about this sooner? I might have—”
“—You might have done what, Elizabeth? I understand that you and Darcy put all your differences aside when we were at Pemberley, but I am not aware that there is anything more meaningful between the two of you. Is there something that I ought to know?”
Elizabeth found herself unable to respond to her brother’s inquiry. She had told no one, not even Jane, about the time she and Darcy spent together during her final moments at Pemberley, the words that were spoken, the loving and longing looks that were exchanged, and the unspoken promises that were made. But she could not pretend that she was not deeply troubled that he had been injured and that he might have needed her and not only did she know nothing about it, even if she had, she would have been powerless to do anything but sit and wonder and wait. Would that I could get a letter to him, but how is such a thing to be accomplished?
~*~
As pleased as Mrs. Bennet was to be entertaining the officers,
for either of them might make a suitable husband for one of her younger girls, she was glad when they did take their leave. She was too much in the way of wishing for an alliance between her eldest daughter and the duke, and if she were to see her newest favorite wish come to be, then she needed to speak with Jane outside of the officers’ company.
“Jane,” Mrs. Bennet said, “I do wish you had accompanied your sister and the duke on their walk. You must seize every chance to put yourself in his path. It is not every day that a young woman is afforded such an advantage as you have. I am sure he would listen to Lizzy were she to recommend you to him.”
“Mama, His Grace made it abundantly clear that it was Lizzy with whom he wished to speak.”
“Oh, bother! He and Lizzy can talk anytime. No, you must do all you can to command his notice. As beautiful as you are, I just know you might be his duchess, but you have to try.” Mrs. Bennet’s voice took on a nostalgic air. “I was sure when my brother and sister Gardiner invited you to travel with them to Pemberley that it was at Mr. Darcy’s request. I was sure he wanted to better his acquaintance with you, but nothing became of it.”
Jane said, “On the contrary, Mama. Something wonderful came of it. I was reunited with my sister, and I owe it all to Mr. Darcy.”
“Yes—yes, of course, there is that. But what I mean is there was no mention of any offer of marriage.”
Disappointed, Jane said, “Is that all you think about?”
Her voice heightened, Mrs. Bennet cried, “Indeed, and when you do manage to secure a husband and proceed to have a house full of daughters, I wager it is all you will think about as well.”
Mrs. Bennet grabbed her handkerchief and pressed it against her forehead. “I do declare that none of you have any compassion at all for my nerves.” She stood and walked over to the window. Turning to face her daughter, she said, “First Mr. Bingley, then Mr. Darcy—two wealthy single men whom I allowed to get away. Well, I am determined that at least one of my girls shall marry the duke, and I shall not rest until it comes to be.”
At that moment, her husband wandered into the room with a letter in his hand. “I hope that you have ordered a splendid dinner, my dear, because it seems we are to expect an addition to our family party.”
“No doubt you are speaking of the duke. Why, of course, I have told cook to prepare a fine table.”
“I am not speaking of the duke, but another guest with a distinction of his own.”
Confusion glossed over Mrs. Bennet’s eyes. “Someone more distinguished than the duke? Who could possibly be more illustrious than His Grace?”
“Why, it is the heir of Longbourn, my cousin, Mr. William Collins.”
Having never even met the man, Mrs. Bennet was sure she never wanted the opportunity. “Oh, Mr. Bennet, say anything but that we are to receive that terrible man. You know I cannot bear the thought of him.”
“I imagine it is hard to countenance such a prospect, my dear, for, as we all know, when I am dead, he may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases. However, he writes with the express purpose of rectifying what he avows is a wrong to our family.”
He looked at his eldest daughter. “Jane, I’m glad you are here for it saves me the trouble of seeking you out. You must listen to what Mr. Collins has to say.”
Mr. Bennet perused the missive for a moment or two, silently muttering to himself before speaking coherently. “Here it is. I dare say that you will be pleased as well, my dear Mrs. Bennet.” He began reading aloud:
As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing of peace in all families within the reach of my influence. On these grounds, I flatter myself that my present overtures are highly commendable and that the circumstance of my being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your side and not lead you to reject the offered olive branch. I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the means of injuring your amiable daughters, and beg leave to apologize for it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make them every possible amends—but of this hereafter.
Neither Mrs. Bennet nor her eldest daughter was very impressed by what they heard, which encouraged Mr. Bennet to be more forthcoming. “Do you not know what this means?”
“Other than your cousin appears to be somewhat of a rambling buffoon, I dare say that I have not the slightest notion of what he is saying.”
“Mr. Collins means to choose a bride from among our five daughters!” Preparing to leave the women to determine what they would of this happy news, Mr. Bennet said, “If Mr. Collins is disposed to make them any amends, I shall not be the person to discourage him, regardless of which one he chooses.”
Chapter 8 ~ A Much Better Man
Not wanting to give rise to the notion that he was above spending the evening at Longbourn with Elizabeth’s Bennet relations, Avery sat around the fireplace with everyone and listened to Collins read from his book. At morning’s first light, he planned to return to London. Nothing would have pleased him more than to bring Elizabeth back to their Grosvenor Square home where she belonged, but he suspected she would not be a willing party to such a scheme. Soon, he prayed, she would awaken to the fact that it took more than blood to fashion a family. Surely the latest addition to the Bennet family party would be confirmation enough in due time.
Elizabeth was certainly not inclined to leave her sister Jane at such a time as this. Mr. Collins’s letter, having done away with much of her mother’s ill-will towards him, made him a most honored guest. Rather than allow a single moment to pass without advancing her cause, Mrs. Bennet recommended Jane as the one that Mr. Collins ought to admire as soon as she learned the duke would be taking his leave of Hertfordshire.
Elizabeth was exceedingly vexed. Better that her mother had chosen Mary for Mr. Collins. She, at least, tolerated the man who proved himself to be quite ridiculous with his sycophantic manner. Although, I really think Mary deserves a much better man as well.
Kitty and Lydia found nothing about their cousin of interest to themselves. Perhaps had he come in a red coat he may have recommended himself. But, of course, his being the parson of his noble patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh, as he frequently boasted, allowed for no such attire.
And although Jane likely found nothing in the man that would recommend his suit, her character did not allow her to speak of it. She suffered his attention with the patience of a saint and the smiles of an angel. That was what concerned Elizabeth most about Mrs. Bennet’s scheme for Jane: the very real possibility that her eldest sister would concede to her mama’s wishes.
Elizabeth had not been in company with Mr. Collins over a quarter hour before she suffered an undeniable dislike for the man. Making matters worse, she and her sisters were not the only objects of his admiration. He seemed to look upon the hall, the dining parlor, and all its furniture as his own future property.
How this business of Longbourn’s entail frustrated Elizabeth and served as a reminder of her mother’s and sisters’ dire straits should a terrible fate suddenly befall her father. She was not at all insensitive to the fact that, despite her being a Bennet by blood, her family’s fate truly was not her own. She had other choices, and it would be foolish of her to suppose otherwise. This was reason enough for her to reaffirm her commitment to raising her family’s lot in life.
After dinner one evening, Elizabeth listened while her mama and Mr. Collins pontificated on the subject of his future marital felicity and how it must please his noble patroness. Mr. Collins was not a sensible man, which gave Elizabeth to wonder at his being Mr. Darcy’s aunt’s vicar.
What must it say for her that her parson is a mixture of pride, obsequiousness, and self-importance? Elizabeth could hardly wait to meet the grand lady and learn all about her.
Not wanting to engage in conversation with the gentleman directly, Elizabeth contented herself with listening in on his discourse with Mrs. Bennet.
“Indeed, my noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bou
rgh, has been most generous in allowing me to be away for a se’ennight. She contends that is more than enough time for me to choose a wife. I cannot thank you enough for obliging me in this regard and recommending your eldest daughter, who is by far the loveliest creature my eyes have ever beheld.” As if not wanting to give offense, he looked at Elizabeth. “Although, I should have been equally pleased with your second eldest, whom I dare say is your eldest daughter’s equal in beauty.”
“Oh, but my Jane is the eldest and, by virtue of her age and beauty, the most deserving. What is more, she has a temperament that must surely be pleasing to her ladyship,” Mrs. Bennet insisted.
“Indeed. I am quite aware that the honor I am about to bestow is strictly Miss Bennet’s due to her seniority.”
Elizabeth, by now had heard enough of her mama’s scheming and her cousin’s contrivances. She went to sit next to Jane by the fire. The prospect that she would ever see her Jane settled with such a man was untenable. Indeed, I shall never abide it.
~*~
A few days had passed since Elizabeth had seen her friend Charlotte Lucas. The next morning, the ladies of Lucas Lodge called on the ladies of Longbourn, and when the visit was nearing an end, Elizabeth and Charlotte stole away from the others for a walk by the shrubbery.
Strolling along, arm in arm, Charlotte said, “I’m sorry that I did not have an opportunity to meet the duke when he was here owing to my ill health.”
“I dare say you would have liked him very much,” said Elizabeth, always supposing Avery to be well received wherever he went.
“My dear Eliza, he is a duke. What is there not to like?”
“He is indeed,” Elizabeth replied, unable to discern if her new friend was merely teasing or perhaps a bit mercenary. She would hate to think it was the latter.
“Mr. Collins seems like a pleasant sort of gentleman.”
“If you equate pleasantness with ridiculousness, I suppose you may have a point, my dear Charlotte.”
“I do not suppose he is as bad as all that. After all, he does boast of some rather lofty connections.”