Chapter 8

The dreary gray sky and biting cold of the late November day was doing nothing to improve Eleanor's mood. Since her husband had fled the country-side she had become increasingly distant and cold with her family, despite her best efforts to remain cheerful and optimistic. The child within her grew rapidly, and she felt the loss of the baby's father all too keenly. The winter season was beginning in earnest in London, but Eleanor knew that she would have little opportunity to take in the delights of Town as her confinement had to begin soon. As the carriage holding the three Bingley sisters made it's way through the narrow, cobbled lanes of the city, regret filled her for leaving Netherfield.

London was no place to have a child. Though the city afforded the most doctors and midwives, the noise, smells, and dirt of the capital made for an unpleasant and potentially dangerous place to house a newborn. Her first-born had been birthed at Halston, in the remote hills of Lincolnshire, and the air he breathed had been sweet and clean. Netherfield would have been ideal for having a child, the quiet and gay company of Hertfordshire would have supported her and welcomed her child with open arms. Close enough to Town should a specialist be needed, but far enough away that one thought little of the city while wandering it's wooded paths, she would have felt safe and comfortable there. She wanted to damn her melancholia, which had forced her to be silent when she would have normally spoken. Her child would be born in the Admiral's rented Town-home, the polluted fog of the city filling his lungs. She had been bested by Caroline's need for amusements and her selfish desire to keep Charles' from Jane Bennet's company, and listening to her two sisters talk while Hurst droned on in his sleep, a deep resentment began to fill the second-youngest Bingley sister.

"I long to be in London!" Caroline crooned, her ink-black hair hanging loose from hours of travel.

Louisa tutted, ignoring her husband's racket, "Too true, my dear! The country is always refreshing, but there is nothing to Town!"

The pair paused briefly, waiting to see if Eleanor would contribute to the conversation. She had been stubbornly silent throughout the length of the trip, claiming great fatigue, and was determined that she would not give in so close to home. With a small huff, Caroline continued, saying, "Refreshing for the air and the scenery perhaps, but I have certainly had my fill of country manners!"

The pair chortled, and Eleanor bit her lip in order to maintain her disinterested, but polite, silence. She was longing to be in the carriage with her brother and cousin-in-law, or with her governess and children, who were following from Netherfield in a separate coach. Children were always a nuisance to travel with, but at least their company was not full of facetious word play. She knew that somewhere in her heart she loved her sisters dearly, but the older they became and the more wealth the Bingley family acquired, the less she felt she knew them. With a small sigh, Eleanor rested her head against the seat, and did her best to fall asleep, but with the rattle of the carriage wheels, her brother in-law's heavy snores and her sisters' prattle, she doubted sleep would come.

The sisters continued on about the pleasures of Town for a small time, both sending furtive glances Eleanor's way, attempting to determine whether or not she truly slept. After seeing her chest rise and fall rhythmically for a brief time, Caroline became bold, but her voice dropped to a whisper lest her sleeping sister deceived them, she said, "Our plan is half-complete, Louisa, but I fear how we can prevent Charles from returning to Netherfield!"

With her sister's words, Louisa's features grew cross and hard. "If you want to ensure your position in society, Caro, you can not allow Charles to lower our status further."

With a hiss of annoyance, Caroline spat, "It is not my fault we are connected to trade!"

"No," Louisa replied, her voice cold, "nor is it Jane Bennet's fault the estate is entailed away to that cousin of theirs, or that she has relations who reside in Cheapside."

There was a hesitation, and then Caroline responded. "Jane Bennet is a dear, sweet, girl, and I mean that, truly."

"There can be no second opinion on that subject," Louisa agreed, "however, her family would an embarrassment to us should we have to claim the relation when out in society."

"Can you imagine the mother in London for the season!" Caroline laughed. "We must do everything in our power to prevent that at the very least!"

Her elder sister did not crack a smile. "Leave Charles to me. You must do everything in your power to secure Darcy!"

Eleanor, who had barely strayed into a half dream before being pulled back to reality by her sister's conversation, felt her ears perk with that statement. Secure Darcy? What could her sister be thinking by attempting the task! Surely she aimed too high, and she aimed blindly as well, for Darcy had never shown an interest in any one of the Bingley women.

Caroline's eyes flashed with irritation. "I am doing just that, and all proceeds well."

"Perhaps better now, if we can keep him away from Eliza Bennet." Louisa snapped.

There was a long, tense, silence. Finally Caroline spoke, icy venom seeping into every word. "You would do well to hold you tongue, sister. I am very fond of Darcy, and he more than meets my requirements for a husband, but I set my cap at him for you. You would do much better to speak kindly to me, and remember that it is I who am doing you a service, and not the other way around."

With their neighborhood coming into view, the pair fell silent, each dwelling on their own thoughts. Eleanor kept her eyes shut and her breathing even, feigning sleep for the rest of the journey, while her mind raced with the implication of her sisters' words. When the carriage finally arrived at the Admiral's London house, relief washed over her to be parting her sisters company. They made cordial goodbyes, knowing that they would see each other soon, and each in turn thinking that the separation would not be of a long enough duration to make them anticipate seeing the other again. Her brother and cousin-in-law, always the models of gentility, stopped their own coach in order to see her off properly, and to them her parting words were said with a deal more sincerity.

"Make haste to finish your business, Charles." Eleanor said, pressing her brother's hand in her own, "London can hold little charm for you at present."

Charles felt himself blush with his sister's words, a grin spreading across his lips despite his best effort to suppress it. "Indeed," he said, eyes laughing, "I have come to find that I care a great deal more for the country than town."

His friend's dark eyes flashed with irritation. "Do you truly Charles?" Darcy asked, his voice tight, "I would have thought you would find the company too confined and unvarying for your usual taste."

"Not at all," Charles quickly replied, his happiness ebbing somewhat under Darcy's scrutiny, "I find myself completely charmed by the country."

"Indeed," Darcy spat, his voice filling with steely resolve, "that is exactly what I have come to fear."

Eleanor frowned at her cousin-in-law's severity, wondering at its source. With a bow, he left them and returned to the carriage. Her twin looked at her with an apologetic shrug. "Darcy has seemed to be in a foul mood as of late."

"He is very young to bear the burden of all the responsibilities that he has, I grant him some reprieve from my judgment." His sister responded, her eyes full of worry, "Look after him, Charles." She added, "He was not born with the Bingley good-humor. He needs a friend like you to lighten his spirit when it becomes too heavy with worry."

Charles smiled warmly at his sister. "It is good of you to be concerned, Eleanor, but perhaps Darcy ought to find himself a wife that will lighten his foul moods herself! After some months in his company, I begin to weary of the task." With a laugh and a bow he was gone, off to the Darcy townhouse, with promises to call before he returned to Hertfordshire.

o0o0o0o0o0o

With wry amusement, Charlotte Lucas observed her own situation. She had come to Longbourne to speak with Elizabeth and Jane about the happenings of the ball, as young ladies were want to do - only to discover the family in uproar. From Kitty and Lydia's whispers and giggles, she had managed to ascertain that their guest, and cousin, Reverend Collins, had made an offer for Elizabeth's hand, which had been refused by the young lady. Charlotte had been unsurprised by Lizzy's refusal, indeed, she had anticipated no other reply, but she was surprised that Elizabeth had taken Mrs. Alcott's advice from some weeks prior. Lizzy had convinced the parson that she refused his hand because she knew of a young lady who's affections her cousin held; but, despite his prying, Lizzy refused to give this mysterious woman up, claiming that she could not, as a Christian woman, break the promise she had made to keep her identity anonymous.

Collins, baffled, delighted, and flattered that a young lady would fall so violently in love with him through no effort on his part, was in a frenzy to discover just who this young woman was, so that he could make her his wife. Since he was due to leave Hertfordshire in the coming week, he had little time to think, and made it his course to act. Through the course of the afternoon, each one of the Bennet sisters found her hand being applied for by Mr. Collins. Each sister had reacted differently; Jane had kindly and gently refused his hand, Kitty had been utterly mortified and only shaken her head against his offer before quitting the room, and Lydia had laughed uproariously and ungraciously, fat tears of merriment sliding down her cheeks at the idea of Collins ever wanting to marry her, let alone his believing that there was a possibility of her ever accepting him. Mary, quiet, moralizing Mary, had come very close to accepting her cousin's hand, not from any affection for him, but from the belief that had been instilled in her through a worrisome mother and teasing sisters that she was plain and could do no better. When Collins asked if she was the young woman Elizabeth had spoken of, who held him so close to her heart, she could not bring herself to lie. She did not feel sad to have lost him to a mystery woman of the neighborhood, but only hoped that when next such a man came to Hertfordshire, all the eligible young women had married already.

With Mrs. Bennet's shrieks of dismay rattling the windows, a perplexed Charlotte had taken it upon herself to invite the parson to Lucas Lodge for supper. That Mr. Collins should quit Longbourne for a small duration seemed to the mutual wish of both the guest and his hosts, excluding the Bennet family matriarch. As Mr. Collins walked with her toward Lucas Lodge, Charlotte felt her stomach twist into knots at the plan that had formed in her mind. She was seven and twenty, and if not yet considered an old maid, she knew that she was well on her way to becoming one. She had recommended to Elizabeth once that Jane secure Mr. Bingley's feelings by showing more affection than she felt, and Charlotte knew that if she wished it, she could secure Mr. Collins with a few smiles and turns of phrase. He had proposed to five women in one day without securing a partner for his future life, and his desperation meant that he would be happy to have the acceptance of any lady.

But now that the moment was upon her, Mr. Collins on his knees before her, his ruddy face dripping with anxious sweat, his round eyes looking about with frantic abandon, she found that she could not bring herself to commit to a life with this man. He was a kind person, and would give her a comfortable life, that was sure, but a thought kept repeating in her mind like a mantra. "Am I so desperate," she inwardly mused, "that I would accept a man who has been rejected by five other ladies?

Charlotte frowned, unsure of her own feelings. She was reluctant to reject him out of hand, lest Mr. Collins be the only offer of marriage she ever received, and yet she could not bring herself to accept his offer either. "I am greatly honored by your proposal Mr. Collins, and most definitely flattered by your warm and gentlemanly attentions; however, I can not deceive you, I am not the young lady of whom Miss Elizabeth spoke."

Crestfallen, Collins exclaimed, "I begin to wonder if I shall ever find her - this young woman who's fancy I have captured." Blushing, he continued, "I am well aware that while our Almighty Lord has granted me many blessings, physical beauty was not among them. I know that even the best and most Christian young ladies can be more inclined toward looks than virtues when selecting a mate, and I have schooled myself to make up for my deficiencies by being as pleasing and attentive a gentleman as I possibly can be. While my position in life now makes me a desirable husband, thanks to my benefactress, Lady Catherine Debourge, I have had very little luck in my romantic endeavors. You can imagine, Miss Lucas, how hard it is for me to imagine that there can be such a young woman who cares for me amongst the ladies of Hertfordshire, and yet cousin Elizabeth tells me that it is so."

Having been called plain so many times in her life that she had ceased to keep count, Charlotte's heart went out to a man who knew the pain that a lack of beauty could bring. It was undoubtedly harder on a woman, especially if she had little but her charms to recommend her, but to be rejected out of hand by women due to a pink face and a stout figure seemed unfair to the eldest Miss Lucas. Mr. Collins was somewhat ridiculous, that was obvious to her, but as she began to imagine a life with Mr. Collins, the picture became more and more appealing.

Charlotte knew that she was uncommonly well-educated for a woman of her situation, and she had natural intelligence that had encouraged her to build the skills she would need. Mr. Collins was the rector of a comfortable parish, and would one day be master of Longbourne. To be his wife, and thusly, mistress of that estate, meant that she would be able to be near her family as they grew older. Although she would not return to Lucas Lodge as an occupant, Longbourne had been a second home to her growing up. Despite what she could imagine Mrs. Bennet saying when she heard that Charlotte was to one day replace her, she would never leave the Bennet family to starve in the hedgerows. If none of the Bennet sisters married well, Charlotte would provide for them as if she was a member of the family, for as long as she had lived, she had been amongst them. She would be able to do this because the Collins' would live a prudent, quiet life, never exceeding their income.

Looking down at where Mr. Collins kneeled, his flushed complexion heightened by the stress of the day, Charlotte felt a sense of companionship within her. Mr. Collins was not a sensible fellow, to be sure, but he had a good deal more self-awareness than any of the county had given him credit for. He would be a respectful and attentive husband who would see to all her needs. She would have a comfortable home and secure future, which is more than what many women received from a marriage. Her eyes scanning over his person, Charlotte wondered if perhaps she could influence his manners into something more pleasing for all. He was not a stupid man, but he unwittingly presented himself in a rather stupid fashion.

Smiling at him, Charlotte finally spoke, saying, "Mr. Collins, I can not bring myself to lie to you. I may not be the young woman of whom Miss Elizabeth spoke. I do not know if such a woman exists or not. All I can speak of is the here and now. You have made me an offer of marriage, and if you will still have me, despite not being the mysterious admirer Elizabeth spoke to you of, I would be very happy to accept your hand."

o0o0o0o0o0o

Walking along the empty halls of the Admiral's town-house, Eleanor felt a pang of loneliness within her breast. She loved her husband dearly, and the time apart from him had been exhausting for her. She missed her son daily, and felt a rage within her at the thought that the Admiral had unceremoniously robbed her of him, and yet, because she loved her husband, and because she understood him, she could not hold onto the anger inside her. More than anything else, she wanted them both with her in that moment.

Eleanor gave directions to the skeletal staff to begin reopening the house for the season. If they were surprised to see her there, they gave no indication, but merely welcomed the mistress home and began their preparations. Despite many invitations by the house keeper to rest, to have a cup of tea or a bite to eat, Eleanor was listless and found herself roaming the corridors aimlessly. It had not been her decision to come to London, but she had known it would be foolishness to stay on at Netherfield by herself, despite Charles' expressed intention of returning to his country home. There would be much to distract him town, and no matter how deeply he was invested in his courtship of Jane Bennet, she knew that he would stay in the city longer than the few days he had intended. She only hoped that it would not be as long as Caroline anticipated.

Thinking of her pair of scheming sisters, disgust filled her and flowed through her veins with speed. While it had never surprised Eleanor to see Caroline, or any of her other sisters, making a fool of herself over Darcy, it did shock her to know how low her sibling would sink in order to collect her prey. Louisa's angle in Caroline's seduction attempt was especially disconcerting, for what stake could she have in it? Louisa had married into a respectable and wealthy family, casting off the Bingley association for trade and replacing it with a husband from the landed gentry. While marriage to Darcy would connect the Bingley family to the aristocracy through his relations, their sister, the Baroness, and Eleanor's own connection to the second son of a knight did the same; Eleanor could see little other advantage that Louisa could possibly gain from her sister making such a match.

Dwelling on the matter, Eleanor found herself inside the study of the home, deep in thought. While the room had expressly been decorated to John's specifications, he spent relatively little time there while he was in town. Biting her lip, Eleanor raced from the entrance way to the desk, and finding it in good order, she sat down her mind racing. First, she wrote a brief note to her dear friend, Lady Macintyre informing her of her arrival in town, and asking her to call at her soonest availability. Being in the family way, Eleanor knew better than to leave the house and call on her friend, not in London, where the rules of society were to be followed perfectly.

Following the note, she wrote to the friends she had left behind in Hertfordshire, the eldest Miss Bennets, and Miss Charlotte Lucas. Knowing how eager her sisters were to end the Bingley acquaintance with the occupants of Hertfordshire, Eleanor became even more eager to maintain the friendship then she would have been ordinarily. Forcing cheer and good-humor to flow from her pen and onto paper, she inquired into the affairs of Meryton and health of everyone she knew there, before filling the paper with all the delights of town. Then, with sudden inspiration, Eleanor dipped her pen in the ink-well and included one last lane:

To the eldest Miss Bennets I must ask a favor. As you may, or may not, be aware of, I am with child at present. With my younger sister newly married, and my elder sisters keeping house for my brother, I have no female companionship for my confinement. I know that we have only known one-another a short while, but in our brief acquaintance I have become especially fond of you both. I would lock neither of you away from society as I am, but would ensure that you both get to take in all the pleasures of London during the season, properly chaperoned, of course.

With a self-satisfied smirk, Eleanor addressed the letter and set it aside. Louisa and Caroline were determined to keep Charles out of Netherfield, they had made that much apparent. They plotted in order to ensure their own happiness, but Eleanor plotted to ensure that of her brother's. Feeling generous and well-pleased with herself, she took it upon herself to write one last letter, this one headed for Lincolnshire.

John,

I can not pretend that your abrupt departure did not fill me with rage and bitterness, nor do I give in to the subject of our argument. While your brother lives and breathes, there is still hope for an heir, and it is unfair to fill our son's head with the idea that he is entitled to property and riches that are not yet his. He is also still very young to be long separated from his mother, or his brother and sister.

The reason I write, however, is in order to beg you to come home. Not so I can lord over you in triumphant that my argument was correct, but so that I may see your smiling eyes looking at me, so that I can hear the warmth in your voice, so I can feel the touch of your skin against mine. We are flawed individuals, you and I, and as much as you may hurt me and disappoint me, I love you still. I miss you, and our son, with a terrible pain. I reside in London at present, and I beg you to make haste and meet me here.

Yours in love, yours in anger

Eleanor

o0o0o0o0o

John's time at Halston passed quickly. After Andrew's reprimand, he chose to stay only one day at his childhood home, in order to call on some of the principal families of the neighborhood. Though well-liked and admired everywhere he went, for both his own personal charms and his well-known naval record, he had never before given much though to currying favor with the people in Lincolnshire. Now that he knew his son was legally bound to inherit, he had realized the importance of cultivating those relationships. Until John II was of-age, it would be the Admiral's place to care for Halston, and he wanted to honor his son in doing it.

On the second morning of his arrival home, John Alcott and his son were on the road once more. Though the horses surely required more rest, but Andrew had filled his younger brother with such a longing for his wife that he was determined to make haste back to Hertfordshire. Since he traveled with his young son, he planned to stop at his town-house to rest, before heading directly back to Netherfield. Little John slept soundly, but his namesake sat awake, his mind filled with thoughts of his wife.

He could not wait to be home.


Author's Notes: 1.) A very big thank you goes out to my reviewers for Chapter 7, especially YepItsMe. Reviews are absolutely fabulous as you all know, but the people that review every chapter really make your heart happy. Its good to know there is someone out there who is definitely reading and looking forward to your work. I've known the pain of loving a story and checking for a new chapter every day only to be disappointed, and thinking (in my own head anyway) that someone out there is doing the same thing to this story is a huge motivation for me to get my butt into gear. And please guys, the more constructive criticism, the better! I wanna know your thoughts!

I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter out to you. I know that this was the shortest chapter by far, and that's because it's pretty much a filler/transition chapter, somehow we have to move the action of the story from Hertfordshire to London, and let's face it, a coach ride isn't exactly a bundle of thrills. Also this chapter decided it wanted a few extra scenes thrown in before I was ready to post it that HAD to be written, ie Eleanor's goodbye with Darcy & Bingley, and Charlotte's scene with Mr. Collins. Despite the feeling that I HAD to include these scenes and rewrite what I had orginally, for some reason my creative juices just were not flowing.