After the Christmas holiday, true winter came to Hertfordshire, bringing snow and sleet and colder days throughout January and February. Elizabeth and her sisters-with the exception of Jane, who was in London with the Gardiners-took turns sitting wrapped in knitted shawls and reading or talking to their father, who sometimes opened his eyes, but still could not speak. Dr. Hudson still visited once a week.
Elizabeth fretted over her father but kept her concerns light in her letters to Jane. One cold day, the post arrived, including a letter from Mr. Collins. She winced and opened the letter.
He'd addressed the letter directly to her. She frowned at his informality, fortunately, no one else would know because no one else in Longbourn bothered reading his letters. She positioned another log in the fire, patted her father's arm, and scanned his spidery scrawlings.
Now that February has arrived and our thoughts turn to spring, I wish to invite you, dear Cousin, to my humble parsonage in Hunsford for Easter to see if you find my way of life satisfactory. Although my parish is a small part of a much grander world at Rosings Park, I fancy that it is a life most women would deem adequate, even admirable. Of course, you must travel with a proper chaperone. It would not do for the rector of Rosings Park to be visited by an unaccompanied woman. Lady Catherine has approved this plan and suggests you bring a female friend and perhaps her parent as a suitable chaperone.
Elizabeth sighed and set the letter down. She hoped he might have forgotten their last conversation, but, no, clearly he did. If Collins was anything, it was stubborn. What had she been thinking considering she might marry Mr. Collins? Her heart had been too heavy with worry for her father to realize they could never be properly aligned as a match. Her problems still remained, they might be without a home, but she owed it to tell her cousin that she could not marry him to his face.
Just then a gentle knock came on the closed door.
"Come in," Elizabeth said and a friendly dark head peeked in at her. Her friend Charlotte Lucas.
"Hello, Elizabeth," the girl said, smiling, and entering as she kissed Elizabeth's cheek. "I've been sent to return a shawl your Mama loaned to mine on a chilly day last week in church. How is your father? Any improvements?" Charlotte glanced at Mr. Bennet sympathetically.
"None I can ascertain. But how nice to see you." Elizabeth turned to her father. "Papa, we have a visitor, our neighbor, Miss Charlotte Lucas."
"Er-hello, Mr. Bennet," Charlotte said with uncertainty before turning to Elizabeth. "I have wondered how you are faring this winter."
"As well as can be expected."
A sudden idea flashed through Elizabeth's head.
"Charlotte, have you ever been to Kent?"
It was soon settled that Charlotte's father, Sir William Lucas and his two daughters, Charlotte and her sister, Maria would travel with Elizabeth first to London to see Jane, and then onto Hunsford. There, Elizabeth hoped she might gently break her decision to Mr. Collins, and then quickly return home. Hopefully, her father seemed stable enough that he may not miss her for a few weeks. Elizabeth left detailed directions to her remaining sisters on what they should read to their father.
Lydia scowled when she saw the list of readings.
"All these books are boring. If he doesn't know any differently, why should I not read a novel to him?"
Elizabeth gave her a warning look. "Please read to him what he may most like to hear. The physician thinks he can hear us."
"I may as well read him something interesting then," Lydia grumbled.
"La, what if Papa wakes up but is put back to sleep by the tedious philosophical treatise you are reading? Or rather, what if he hears Lydia reading a silly novel and decides not to rouse? It will be all your fault, Lydia," Kitty said from behind them on the bed.
"Girls, I don't think the choice of reading will affect whether Papa wakes up or not," Elizabeth said. "Now please come downstairs and see me and the Lucases off on our trip."
"Then I shall read The Castle of Otranto to him," Lydia said, smiling triumphantly to Kitty. "For that is interesting and a work of art."
Kitty rolled her eyes.
"Oh, wait!" Lydia ran out of the room and returned holding a publication. It was the one copy of La Belle Assemblee, the fashion publication, the girls owned. Lydia walked to Maria Lucas and held it over her heart.
"I give you our copy of Le Belle Assemblee so that when you are in London, and you see the latest fashions, you may circle the styles you see on ladies so we will not fall out of fashion. Lizzy will help you."
Miss Lucas blinked and looked fearful as she did when Lydia was around. "I know little of fashion."
"Just pay attention and take note of what fashionable ladies wear so you can tell us. For example, are they doing a mutton sleeve or is it more slender and longer? This is a most important service you may do unto us."
"Mutton?" Maria repeated.
"Lydia, let her be if she is not interested," Elizabeth said.
"Why? She's going to London and I am not. She has eyes, doesn't she? All she has to do is look around."
But Mrs. Bennet stepped forward. "Excellent idea, Lydia. We will need reports of fresh spring fashions when you return."
Maria took the publication but looked uncomfortable. Elizabeth patted her shoulder and smiled at Charlotte.
It was unseasonably warm as Elizabeth, Sir Lucas, and his two daughters trundled in a coach towards Hunsford. The air was humid after an early morning rainfall causing flowers to begin to bloom along the side of the road. But Elizabeth found no joy in the colorful new petals and the fresh blades of green. Her stomach only clenched in foreboding at the thought of seeing Mr. Collins.
She steeled herself.
The trip to Hunsford had gone almost too fast for her taste. She had been so eager to see Jane and impatient to get to town. Now the pleasant part of the trip was past and the overwhelming dread of the rest weighed upon her. She dreaded seeing her cousin. Perhaps she was being too hard on Mr. Collins. He couldn't be as bad as she remembered. She had been upset at her father's health, hadn't she? Collins may not be a romantic partner, but he did deserve respect, did he not? She sighed to herself. Of course he did.
Next to Elizabeth, Charlotte squeezed her hand as Rosings Park finally came into view. She was unabashedly excited by their travels. Maria Lucas slumped against the carriage. "I am tired."
"I believe we are nearly there," Elizabeth told her.
Outside the window, a garden sloped to the road, the house standing in it, the green pales and the laurel hedge, everything declared that they were arriving. Mr. Collins appeared at the door, and the carriage stopped at a small gate, which led by a short gravel walk to the house, amidst the nods and smiles of the whole party.
"Welcome to my home," Mr. Collins simpered proudly and bowed as he helped her down from the carriage.
"Mr. Collins, you remember my neighbors, Sir William Lucas and his daughters, Miss Charlotte and Miss Maria," Elizabeth said. Each stepped forward and greeted Collins, curtsying gracefully.
"Your home is quite lovely," Charlotte said, taking in his parsonage. "You live here alone?"
Collins smiled with false modesty. "I do. But, of course, after I wed and it will be a home for a family." He looked at Elizabeth meaningfully, which made her face grow uncomfortably warm. "My patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh has made many improvements on the property in the last year."
"You are lucky to have such a generous patroness," Sir Lucas said.
"A truer statement cannot be said," Collins said solemnly.
He hadn't changed at all. He was as bad as she remembered.
Mr. Collins took his time showing them around his small dwelling, taking pains to point out the vegetable garden, chicken coop, and pigpen.
Maria, as the youngest, glanced around and sighed, growing bored.
"Would you like to see the pigs?" Mr. Collins asked.
Maria Lucas frowned.
"I think that's not necessary," Elizabeth said, growing warm and uncomfortable in her travel garb.
"You are quite well set up," said Sir William politely.
Mr. Collins smiled again, obviously flattered. "I like to think so."
"We had best get to our rooms to freshen up for dinner."
"Of course. Lady Catherine is quite beside herself to see you all."
They were staying at Rosings Park, an ornate ancestral seat of Lady Catherine de Bourgh's family.
"I will see all you at dinner," Mr. Collins said, looking at Elizabeth as he helped the ladies back into the carriage.
Elizabeth was pleased to get away from Mr. Collins. Charlotte squeezed her hand as they rode in the coach to the main house.
"Mr. Collins seems to have eyes only for you, Lizzy," she whispered so she wouldn't be overheard.
Elizabeth's eyes flashed at Charlotte. "I have done nothing to encourage it, I assure you."
Charlotte smiled. "He seems a pleasant man."
"As Mama would say, most importantly, he will inherit Longbourn."
"Is that so?" Charlotte considered this.
"I confess when he visited several months ago, he did speak to me of the idea of marriage. It would be an easy solution, but…"
"But?" Charlotte repeated.
"I have no feelings of affection for him as a wife should. I fear we would not make a happy match."
Charlotte nodded thoughtfully. "But surely, Lizzy, esteem would grow like a seed planted in soil if watered frequently.
Leave it to Charlotte to describe love using agricultural terms.
"I fear the seed will find no purchase in that soil. Or the soil may be parched and lacks nutrients-I am not sure how the metaphor applies." Charlotte smiled at her. "There may be a Biblical drought and nothing will grow," Elizabeth said.
"But, Lizzy, do you not think successful marriage is a matter of effort?"
Elizabeth studied the great house as they approached. It looked like a gothic castle.
"Yes," Elizabeth said quietly. "No-oh, I am uncertain, Charlotte. It is one topic on which I know little." Elizabeth sighed.
That was an understatement.