The party came to fruition more quickly than the sisters counted on. Anticipation stomped over any doubts and second thoughts in the Bennet household, and contented to enjoy the calm of the storm, Mrs. Hill welcomed it all with open arms.
The day of the party, Mr. Archwood and Mr. Darcy visited Longbourn and gained an immediate audience with an overly opportunistic Mr. Bennet. Ten minutes into the face to face meeting, Mr. Bennet ordered Elizabeth into the study.
He stared down his daughter in cold detachment. "Mr. Archwood informs me that Jane was a willing blood source to Mr. Bingley."
Elizabeth maintained the flat expression. "Jane loved Mr. Bingley." Her heart stopped momentarily. "Papa, if she chose to become blood bound through immortal bonds, who am I judge? As the holy book states, we must not pass judgment." Falling back on religion to argue her point proved easier than she realized.
"Were you aware?" Her father demanded.
Her mood sank like a fishing lure. "I was made aware," She glanced at Mr. Archwood principally. "We felt it best to protect Jane's reputation. Mrs. Ariti and I. The heart will commit amazing acts for peace of mind."
Her father lifted his head, studied her a moment longer, and turned to an emotionless Mr. Darcy. "Your mother will not believe it." He said directly to Elizabeth in challenge.
"I barely believed it." Elizabeth lied. "But Jane sincerely loved him, and they were low on imported bloodwine. It was time for her."
Do not question me. Do not question me. Do not question me.
Mr. Bennet dropped into his chair. "Have the party guests arrived?"
"Mr. Barnett, Mr. Brook and family are in the sunroom." She answered. "Kitty and Mary are entertaining."
"In the sunroom?" He sounded confused.
"Mama is rearranging the drawing room." Elizabeth explained.
Mr. Bennet shuffled papers on his desk. "Join your sisters. Mr. Archwood, Mr. Darcy, you are welcome to attend. Miss Lancolm is insistent Lydia become her lady companion. Elizabeth distrusts Mr. Hawthorne's company so we are luring their confidence. Is she not beautiful and of strong mind?" He practically shoved her at them.
She blushed. "Thank you, Papa."
"Do not thank me, Lizzy. Mrs. Ariti wishes you to stay at Netherfield Park as a lady companion and I agreed." Her father gloated freely and grinned at the gentlemen crowded into his study. "Your mother will also agree and after today Lydia will be permitted to travel with Miss Lancolm after she is married to Mr. Huxley."
Elizabeth paled. "Papa, we do not know Mr. Hawthorne and company. They are no more trustworthy at this moment than the militia." She protested.
"I agree, but Miss Lancolm is trustworthy." Her father motioned her to return to the party while he conversed with Mr. Archwood. Mr. Darcy joined her as a ghostly shadow, regal and emotionally detached.
They stopped outside of the sunroom.
"Miss Bennet, we will- "
"Mr. Darcy," Her heart rate toyed with her pride. "Lydia will embarrass us all."
He bowed his head. "You have my condolences."
She relaxed. "it will not matter soon."
Voices filtered through the cracked door. Easy laughter escaped and Elizabeth froze at the touch of a hand on her arm. She looked up into the intense gaze of Mr. Darcy, temporarily spellbound. He blinked and the door popped open. Kitty pulled them into the room and Mr. Darcy stood against the wall idly to observe in supreme irritation.
A sleigh settee and several footstools dotted the center of the sunroom. An armchair next to each window allowed the occupant a prime choice of seating depending on their preferred view and activity of choice. Three paintings spotted the emerald green walls, each an astonishingly well-done piece from the hands of Jane, Kitty, and Lydia. They used this room rarely, and for once, Elizabeth wondered why the drawing room was more popular when this room clearly provided an amazing view of the property.
"Miss Corbyn, Mr. Corbyn. Mrs. Brook." Mary made the introductions for Elizabeth. The Corbyn twins strongly resembled Mr. Brook, so much so that Elizabeth double taked and compared them to Mr. Brook across the room. "This is the elusive Elizabeth, Mrs. Brook."
A frowning elder woman dressed in dark and sized up Elizabeth. Mary clutched onto her older sister in exceptional pride, and Elizabeth lost herself, positive energy smothering any regrets she harbored about today's festivities.
"I am told you are the last proper sister by more than one local of Meryton." Mrs. Brook announced as if it were fact.
The negative energy bypassed the sisters and smacked Mr. Darcy wide awake. He turned his ear to the woman and her criticism while glancing over the other gentlemen in the room and Kitty's improved behavior.
Mary's fingers pinched exposed arm.
Bowing her head, Elizabeth prayed. When she lifted her head, Mrs. Brook continued to bore a hole through her head. "Ma'am, I would like to believe that you, as much for your age as your son's chosen profession, believe in forgiveness, second chances, and would carry yourself in such a manner. How you object to Mary I do not know, but my sister is as pious as your son. If you object to her dowry amount, it is you who must remember your son relies on benefactors."
Thin lips quivered and Mrs. Brook fixed her gaze on her son purposefully conversing with Kitty and Mr. Barnett as far away as possible.
Harriet and Henry Corbyn stepped back from Brook family matron.
"Mary, check on the tea and coffee." Elizabeth shooed the middle sister away and squared off with Mrs. Brook. "I have heard the most favorable report of Mr. Corbyn. A promising military career. Miss Corbyn courted by a barrister. What a fortune." Her tone shifted enough that the edge cut through the air like Mrs. Ariti's handling of Mrs. Bennet.
"And no assistance from John to achieve it." Mrs. Brook turned her head up and seated herself next to the window.
"Miss Bennet." Miss Corbyn curtsied and hurried to her aunt's side.
"Mr. Corbyn, might I introduce you to Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth offered.
He willingly followed her the short distance. "Mr. Darcy, Mr. Henry Corbyn, cousin to Mr. John Brook." Mrs. Brook watched them from the window, ready to pounce like a disapproving grandmother. Elizabeth slipped away from the gentlemen before they held her back and asked questions she felt ill at ease to answer.
Leaving the unhappy ladies to their chosen isolation and Mr. Corbyn to Mr. Darcy's selectively charming company, Elizabeth joined Kitty and Mr. Barnett hovering in front a painting of flowers Kitty completed a year prior. "Your blending of the blues and purples are fluid and show a concentrated effort."
"Lizzy helped." Kitty blushed.
Elizabeth smiled at Mr. Brook who gave the handsome pair the proper space to connect. "Nonsense." She waved her hand. "I merely advised."
Mr. Barnett smiled easily. "Miss Catherine is more talented than she'll admit to. I do not know why. There is no shame in being proud." His green eyes swept over Kitty in open admiration.
Yes, quite a strange development for someone who previously boasted of her antics with Lydia, Elizabeth decided. Perhaps Kitty should remember that a little pride hurt no one. Now, if one were to advance it as far as Mr. Darcy's mountain of pride, she may need to reign it in for fear of the opposite end of the spectrum.
"I believe her pride has shifted, Mr. Barnett." Elizabeth looked Mr. Barnett in the eye and prayed he did not receive the information the wrong way. Of all the times communication needed to be perfect, now was it. "She is a new person these past few weeks."
"I do not believe it!" Mr. Barnette exclaimed. "She is flawless, and I find it difficult to envision a lady of different character."
Mary's laughter joined the chorus of merriment as she latched onto Elizabeth again. Kitty studied her slippers intensely, unable to look up completely for the next several minutes as Elizabeth brushed off Mr. Barnett's fascination with brief descriptions of Kitty's emerging maturity. Bravery overtook the embarrassed Catherine Bennet and she tugged Mr. Barnett along to point out Jane's painting of the tree line and sky.
"Lizzy, what did you say to Mrs. Brook?" Mary whispered.
Elizabeth smiled at Mr. Brook, who failed at trying to appear disinterested in their conversation. "I simply told her that she should not disapprove of you." They glanced over their shoulders at the woman ready to bury them. "She is not as frightening as she wants to appear."
A shiver dominated Mary, and she clung to Elizabeth tighter.
"Do not worry about the woman. She does not know you as I do." She guided Mary to Mr. Brook. "Sir, if you would kindly amuse Miss Mary, I have my mother to check on."
Parson Brook bowed his head. "Bless you, Miss Bennet."
"No, Mr. Brook, bless you." Elizabeth curtsied and escaped the sunroom, overcome with the need to breathe air not shared by a host of individuals sharing in neither blood nor loyalty. Keeping her word, she discovered her mother ordering the servants to move the settee repeatedly – first near the window, then in the middle of the room, then by the other window. "Mama, we have company in the other room." She knocked on the door.
Ignoring her daughter, Mrs. Bennet crossed her arms and pat down frizzy hair.
"Mama." Elizabeth hovered at her side in concern. "Are you well?"
"Yes. Why would I be unwell? You are silly, child."
She worried for her mother, especially if she ever learned about Jane's true transformation story. "The only guests yet to arrive are Mr. Huxley, Mr. Stone, and Mr. Selkirk."
"Best then that your sisters are surrounded by gentlemen who will affect their future." Her mother argued. "Why are you not in the sunroom wooing Mr. Darcy?"
Because their love defied the social expectations? Because Elizabeth understood a lady ought to force the first move on the gentleman, not the gentleman to demand a lady violate delicate sensibilities. Because the idea of Mr. Darcy kneeling at her feet, while overwhelming a lovesick heart, frightened her.
She stepped away from her mother and moved two baskets of threads and needlepoints in-progress. Servants worked around her and stood back to allow Mrs. Bennet another commanding view of the principal room in the house.
"I still don't like it."
"Mama, the space will not change. You need to pick a layout and accept it."
"And you need to marry Mr. Darcy to relieve your father and I." Her mother said. "Go. Woo him."
Refusing to suffer under Mrs. Brook's evil glare, Elizabeth selfishly stood her ground. "Mama, everyone is sufficiently occupied in the sunroom- "
Pushed out of the drawing room and in the vestibule with Mr. Archwood and her father, she faced the men hesitantly. Her father looked at her differently, and it pained her to know he believed she betrayed him.
"Miss Bennet, how tormented is Mr. Darcy?" Mr. Archwood asked, his good will gradually shifting the coldness distancing father and daughter.
She hesitated. "He was speaking with Mr. Corbyn last I saw."
The men exchanged a bored look. "A glass of brandy, Mr. Archwood?"
"Papa, Mr. Huxley and party are not arrived."
Mr. Bennet nodded. "Mr. Hawthorne mentioned they might be arriving a half hour late. Business in Meryton." He motioned Mr. Archwood back into the study, abandoning Elizabeth to the hell of being in the middle of everything without an anchor or savior to help her. Gathering her wits, she composed herself and decided to overtake Mr. Darcy's attentions.
A woman ought to attempt her heart's desires, even if they would never become reality.
