Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips. "No employer would give an employee a pair of ensembles like these!" she insisted.
Elizabeth started.
"And don't tell me you paid for them yourself out of your wages," Mrs. Bennet interrupted, "because even my dear departed husband could not have afforded to purchase attire like this for a young girl!"
Elizabeth's mouth turned down. Why had she been so foolish as to take them?
"They...they were a going away present," she excused.
Mrs. Bennet surveyed her daughter skeptically.
"I was not," she declared disapprovingly, "I repeat, not born yesterday, Lizzy!"
"No, Mama," Elizabeth conceded miserably.
"Now where did you obtain those dresses?"
"I have already told you."
It was Elizabeth's last desperate attempt to keep her secret, but it did not work; Mrs. Bennet was not deceived.
"Don't lie to me, Elizabeth Bennet!" her mother cried. "I want to know what you have been up to, and I want to know now!"
Elizabeth sighed. She had foreseen this. She sighed a second time. There was, alas, no help for it.
"I stayed in the house of a wealthy man in London," she informed her mother. "He bought me those two gowns."
"Lizzy! Really!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. And then, curiously, "Who was he?"
Elizabeth bit her lip. Now it would come.
"Mr. Darcy," she admitted.
There was a horrified gasp.
"That man!" Mrs. Bennet whispered, swaying where she stood. "Oh, no! Not that man!"
"Yes," Elizabeth confirmed. "That man."
"Oh, Lizzy!" Mrs. Bennet wailed. "How could you?"
"How could I what?"
"Don't try to brazen it out with me! I know his reputation and so does everyone else in Hertfordshire!"
"You do not know him as I do, Mama," Elizabeth defended. "I have not heard..."
"Of course not!" Mrs. Bennet cut her short. "Do you imagine that Mr. Darcy's escapades are fit conversation for my daughter? After what Mr. Wickham has told me about him, I..."
"I beg you will not repeat it to me," Elizabeth interrupted. "I have no wish to hear evil of anyone."
"As you wish," Mrs. Bennet responded primly.
There was an awkward pause and then Mrs. Bennet spoke again.
"Lizzy," she asked hopefully, "you are joking about this, are you not?"
"No, Mama," Elizabeth informed her truthfully. "I stayed under the same roof as Mr. Darcy for six months."
Mrs. Bennet went very pale.
"How could you?" she questioned once more. "A man of his reputation!"
"And what about my reputation?" Elizabeth demanded angrily. "Doesn't that count for anything?"
"Your reputation?" Mrs. Bennet echoed. "What reputation?"
Elizabeth glared at her.
"You foolish child!" Mrs. Bennet cried. "How can you be so unrepentant?"
"I don't know what you mean!"
"Ha! To have lived with Mr. Darcy openly! Don't you know what people will say? You have no reputation left!"
"Of course I have," Elizabeth said. "I shall marry, and then people will forget this episode."
Mrs. Bennet raised her eyes heavenwards.
"And where," she inquired, "do you imagine you will find a man who would be willing to marry you?"
Elizabeth froze. "Nothing happened, Mama," she stated quietly. "Mr. Darcy never took advantage of me."
"Do you seriously believe that matters to other people?"
"It must do!"
"My dear Lizzy!" Mrs. Bennet declared. "The mere fact that you might have dined alone together is enough to tarnish your good name forever. Don't you understand?"
"No. I don't."
"Well take my word for it, that's the way things are."
"In that case, things are extremely unfair."
"Life can be very unfair sometimes."
"We didn't do anything wrong," Elizabeth reiterated.
"Oh, no! Nothing but cause the greatest scandal of the season!"
"I have not!"
"No? You disappeared for six whole months. Then suddenly you turn up out of the blue to tell me you have been living with Mr. Darcy! And as what, may I ask? His chaperone?"
"Yes," Elizabeth murmured. "Precisely."
Mrs. Bennet choked with rage. "How dare you!" she spluttered. "Men do not have chaperones!"
"I..." Elizabeth started.
"You were his paramour!" Mrs. Bennet screamed. "Admit it!"
"That is not true!" Elizabeth defended. "He behaved like a perfect gentleman. There was nothing between us."
And then she remembered Darcy's kiss and she blushed.
"You've disgraced us!" Mrs. Bennet shrieked. "You've dishonored yourself! Wicked girl!"
Mrs. Bennet went on and on. Elizabeth's insistence that she had done nothing reprehensible only made matters worse. And when her aunt, Mrs. Phillips, arrived for lunch, Elizabeth had to endure the entire performance again.
"But this is monstrous!" Mrs. Phillips exclaimed when she learned what had happened. "Don't you know about his reputation?"
"No," Elizabeth replied.
"She won't hear a word against the fiend!" Mrs. Bennet declared.
"Why?" Mrs. Phillips questioned silkily. "Afraid of the truth?"
"Certainly not!" Elizabeth answered indignantly. "But..."
"Then you won't mind if I enlighten you, will you?" Mrs. Phillips queried.
Elizabeth bit her lip. "There is no information you can give me about Mr. Darcy which will alter my opinion of him," she stated.
"How do you know?" Mrs. Phillips asked her. "Unless you hear me out?"
Elizabeth was silent.
"Well! Now perhaps we'll have some sanity in this discussion." Mrs. Bennet cried. "Please proceed."
"Yes," Elizabeth concurred reluctantly. "Let us have the worst."
Mrs. Phillips smiled. "Last summer," she continued, choosing to ignore Elizabeth's indignation, "he gave early signs of his debauchery by eloping with an innocent young girl of only fifteen."
Elizabeth blinked in astonishment. "He is...he is married?" she gasped.
"No," Mrs. Bennet responded. "The elopement was a failure. The foolish child was brought back to the bosom of her family."
Elizabeth's eyes widened. She was shocked by the revelation. But still the episode did not make sense.
Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up. "I don't suppose it has occurred to anyone that Mr. Wickham might have been lying,"
"Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy grew up together. Wickham’s father was steward at Pemberley. He was godson to Darcy’s late father," Mrs. Bennet queried. "Why would he make up such lies about his friend? He has such happy manners!"
"Why indeed?" Elizabeth countered. "Perhaps, Mr. Wickham could enlighten us."
"I fail to see how," Mrs. Phillips returned.
"Don't you?" Elizabeth persisted.
Silence.
"Well, Mrs. Phillips?" Elizabeth demanded frostily.
Mrs. Phillips swallowed uncomfortably. Mrs. Bennet, who hung onto her sister's every word, had been easy to convince of Mr. Darcy's perfidy. But Elizabeth was another matter.
"Nonsense!" Mrs. Phillips exclaimed.
"Ridiculous!" Elizabeth declared.
"You were not there," Mrs. Phillip retorted.
"And you were?" Elizabeth surveyed her archly. "I pray you enlighten me, Aunt," she said coldly.
"The couple were willfully disobedient," Mrs. Phillips answered.
"Is that all?" Elizabeth said sarcastically, "Have you no more scandalous tidbits to offer us? For shame!"
Mrs. Phillips glared at her. "Don't say I didn't warn you!" she cried.
"Such a pity it was six months too late!" Elizabeth laughed.
"Lizzy!" Mrs. Bennet declared.
"I am not sorry, Mama, and it is no use my pretending I am," Elizabeth informed her.
"You have goaded me beyond endurance!" Mrs. Phillips announced.
"Ignore her," Mrs. Bennet urged.
"Tell me!"
"As you wish, my dear," Mrs. Phillips answered. "My tale concerns a lady of quality with whom Mr. Darcy was frequently seen. She, poor dear, hoped to marry him, but alas..."
The story seemed strangely familiar to Elizabeth and as Mrs. Phillips progressed, her eyes narrowed.
"What's her name?" she interrupted.
"Caroline Bingley," Mrs. Phillips replied. "I have heard that she is fading away, dying of unrequited love..."
"Miss Bingley!" Mrs. Bennet shouted at the two women. "Mr. Bingley's sister? The same Bingley my Jane is engaged to marry? Tell me it is not so!"
This was too much for Elizabeth.
"I can't stand these lies!" she cried, leaping to her feet. "I won't listen to them!"
Then before anyone could stop her she ran upstairs to her room, where she locked herself in.
Once alone, Elizabeth waited for the tears to flow; not tears of repentance, but tears of anger at the way in which Darcy's good name was so unjustifiably abused, and tears of sorrow for having brought dear Jane into the fray with her.
How could they? Elizabeth asked herself. It's not true. Not a word of it will bear scrutiny. Mrs. Phillip is being malicious and petty! How could Mama believe her?
But the tears would not come.
She paced up and down, fretting and fuming about the way Mrs. Phillips had talked about Darcy. Presently she gazed out of the window. To her astonishment she saw Mr. Collins approaching the house. She deduced that he must have found out that she was back. His visit to Longbourn was perfectly timed with her return home. She sighed. This was what she had been afraid would happen.
Chapter Eighteen
What will my fate be? Elizabeth asked herself.
She gazed out the bedroom window, idly trying to work out what her aunt and mother had in store for her. A few moments later, she heard Mrs. Bennet hurrying upstairs.
"Lizzy! Lizzy!" Mrs. Bennet called, knocking impatiently on the door. "Open up at once!"
"What for?" Elizabeth countered.
"Mr. Collins has arrived."
"Yes I know that. I saw him come."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, child, open this door!"
Elizabeth obeyed and faced her mother dry-eyed.
"What does Mr. Collins want?" she inquired, more from politeness than from any real interest.
"He wants to marry you!" Mrs. Bennet informed her.
The shock was enormous. It was the last thing Elizabeth had expected Mr. Collins to do. Surely he knew what she had been up to while she was away? And surely Mrs. Bennet's assessment of society's reaction had been correct? No man in his senses would want to marry her now. Didn't Mr. Collins realize that? Wasn't he glad to be rid of her?
Elizabeth felt her knees buckle under her. She managed to catch hold of the doorpost and stop herself from sinking to the floor.
"He wants what?" she gasped.
"He wants to marry you," Mrs. Bennet repeated. "And you must say yes to him this time. It is the only way we can even begin to try to save our honor—and your own!"
"I don't see how," Elizabeth protested wearily.
"If you and Mr. Collins are married as you originally planned," Mrs. Bennet explained agitatedly, "it might scotch the rumors flying about concerning your mysterious disappearance. We would intimate that you went south because it was believed—wrongly of course that you had consumption. We would tell people that we did not mention it earlier because we had no wish to alarm your younger sisters."
"And would society believe that?"
Elizabeth could not keep the sarcastic note out of her voice.
"It is a suitable excuse for your absence!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed exasperatedly. "Your friends will be able to accept it. It will spare you the miseries of being ostracized. It is unreasonable of you to demand more!"
Elizabeth was too distraught to fight anymore. She had lost everything she cared for. Let her mother have her way. What did it matter?
"Don't you see what a godsend this is?" Mrs. Bennet demanded.
"Frankly," Elizabeth replied, "no."
Mrs. Bennet bubbled over with frustration and rage. "How can you possibly fail to see what a blessing Mr. Collins's proposal is?" she questioned.
Elizabeth shrugged maddeningly.
"Ungrateful girl!" Mrs. Bennet cried. "You should be down on your bended knees thanking Heaven for this chance to redeem yourself!"
"Should I?" Elizabeth countered wearily.
"Ooh-ooh-ooh!" Mrs. Bennet gasped. "You make me wish Mr. Collins had not renewed his offer to marry you! You don't deserve him! He is too good for you!"
"Do you think so?" Elizabeth inquired. "Perhaps I ought to tell him so, and suggest that he withdraw his suit."
"No, you shall not!" Mrs. Bennet retorted. "You will accept his offer!"
"But..."
"There can be no alternative. You must marry him!" Elizabeth sighed, knowing full well that her mother meant—agree or get out.
"Very well, Mama," she assented reluctantly, "but can it be tomorrow?"
"No, it cannot!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed indignantly. "You will come downstairs with me directly and see him this very minute!"
"All right. All right."
"Come on then! Don't dawdle!"
Unwillingly, Elizabeth followed her mother to the drawing room, where Mr. Collins was waiting for her.
"Miss Bennet!" Mr. Collins greeted her, smiling and holding his hand out to her. 'I am very glad to see you home once more."
Elizabeth returned his smile and clasped his proffered hand.
"Thank you," she murmured.
"You look a little pale," he observed.
"Do I?"
"Yes. Is anything the matter?"
"Everything," Elizabeth wanted to say.
"No. No," she responded. "I had a headache earlier on. That may account for it."
"I am sorry to hear that. I hope you are better now."
"Yes, thank you."
"Ahem!" Mr. Collins cleared his throat. "Did Mrs. Bennet speak to you?"
"About why you are here?"
"Precisely."
"She intimated that you still wanted to marry me."
"That is correct," Mr. Collins confirmed.
Elizabeth bit her lip as he took out an engagement ring and slipped it onto her finger.
"Will you marry me, Miss Bennet?" he asked.
Elizabeth stared at the cluster of stones sparkling up at her. She felt as if someone had found a means of chaining her like a slave.
"You realize that I do not love you, Mr. Collins," she stated.
"It is no matter," he assured her.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Love is not important. You will make me a good wife. That is enough."
"I see."
Elizabeth sighed forlornly. Love is not important? He was wrong. He had to be wrong. Love was important —very important.
"Pray do not be distressed," Mr. Collins said. "Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Phillips have informed me of everything that happened when you left here."
Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up. And what, pray, did he mean by that?
"They informed me that you were taken in by Mr. Darcy," Mr. Collins clarified. "And that when his true character was finally revealed to you, you very wisely decided to come home."
Elizabeth closed her eyes. Was that what had happened? Had it been a wise decision to return to Longbourn? Why then with each passing minute did she feel like she had made a terrible mistake?
Mr. Collins studied her pain-filled countenance.
"Miss Bennet," he continued, "I forgive you for any follies you committed while you were abroad."
Elizabeth stared at him.
"You are young," he went on. "One does rash things when one is young. I am sure you have learned a great deal from your trip."
"Yes," Elizabeth interposed.
That w
as one thing she could not deny. She had gained experience.
"...and it will help you when we are married," he concluded.
Elizabeth had an insane desire to laugh, but she controlled it.
"You are very generous, Mr. Collins," she told him.
"Miss Bennet," he asked her. "Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
She resented him, and yet what choice did she have?
Elizabeth sighed once more.
"Yes," Elizabeth heard herself answer.
* * * *
The next few hours were like a hideously distorted nightmare. The engagement was celebrated with a special dinner and champagne that evening. Mrs. Bennet, Mrs. Phillips, and Mr. Collins talked eagerly about the arrangements for the wedding, but Elizabeth could only think of London and Mr. Darcy. How she wished she was still there with him.
She recalled everything about him, the way he smiled when he wasn't brooding, the way he kissed her...
She had spent six months in his company. And then he had sent her away. That memory hurt her deeply. It could not have been more painful if her flesh had been seared with a red-hot iron.
At last the evening drew to a close. Mercifully! Soon she would be able to go to her room and forget this farce, but not before Mr. Collins came over to her.
"I have been invited to a dance tomorrow night," he remarked.
"How exciting!" Elizabeth exclaimed.
Privately she could not help asking herself if anything would ever excite her again.
"Would you care to accompany me?" Mr. Collins inquired.
"I should be delighted."
"Excellent."
He seemed bashful, hesitant and nervous, like a schoolboy facing an examination.
"Splendid!" Mr. Collins cried. "That is settled, then."
"Yes," Elizabeth returned. "At what time would you like me to be ready?"
"I shall collect you tomorrow at half past seven. You won't be late?
"No. Never fear."
The following evening, Elizabeth attired herself in a white gown, with melon-shaped sleeves and a full skirt with a border of silver roses, which had been specially created for her by her dressmaker in London. Its v-neck was cut low in the front and back, a fact which was emphasized by the silver pendant around her neck.
When she caught sight of her daughter, Mrs. Bennet's jaw dropped.
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