The coldness between the two eldest Bennet sisters continued unabated throughout the day. Elizabeth noticed that her other sisters were giving her a wide berth as well. Lydia was the only one who acted with any sense of normalcy. The trait Elizabeth admired most in Lydia was her inability to hold a grudge. She would say what was on her mind and move on. Elizabeth could not help but feel she would have been far better off adopting a bit of her sister's manner for once. Perhaps then she would not find herself in her current situation.
When she retired for the night, she was still troubled. Sleep escaped her and she pondered how to find relief. She could not turn to Jane. Indeed, she had some groveling to do in order to return to her good graces. Lydia had been correct that she and their father had grown distant, not that she could bring these closest concerns to a man who would only offer witticisms. She wondered if she should apply to her mother for assistance.
Though she initially dismissed the idea, she found herself outside her mother's room after an hour of tossing and turning. Elizabeth could see a weak light from under the door indicating her mother was awake, yet she stood in front of the door for a few minutes before finally knocking. "Mama, may I come in?"
"Lizzy? Come in, child. You are up late." Elizabeth very seldom sought her mother out. She was sure her mother was as startled to find her in her room as Elizabeth was to be there.
The sight before Elizabeth surprised her. Her mother sat in a large chair by the fire reading. Elizabeth picked up the book her mother had set on her lap. She was surprised to see it was the recent republishing of Psyche by the late Mary Tighe. Her father had acquired it only a few months ago and Elizabeth was looking forward to reading it.
"Mama, do you like to read? You always said that I read too much." She ran her hand along the cover of the book, amazed that she and her mother shared an interest in the same book. Honestly, Elizabeth was amazed her mother had any interest in a book at all. She had never before seen her with one.
"I suppose I have. I did have my reasons." Her voice was quiet. In the warm light of the fire, in this cozy room, her mother looked softer, gentler. Elizabeth looked at her expectantly. She suspected it was more than the usual argument that men did not like an educated woman.
"I did not want you to watch the world pass you by as you peeked at it from behind the cover of a book. I did not want you to ignore your family and home, or any opportunities that you might have because you were more engrossed with what was on the page. I did not want you to become as cynical as your father."
Elizabeth was struck by how apt that description was of her father. She sat on the floor at her mother's feet and leaned her head on her mother's leg. She had often done that when she was younger and seeking solace. Mrs. Bennet reached out and stroked Elizabeth's hair. "I cannot remember the last time we did this. You have beautiful hair, Lizzy."
"It is not blonde like Jane's."
"It does not need to be to be beautiful." They both took comfort in the soothing motions. "What troubles you tonight, my girl?"
Elizabeth closed her eyes tight. "What you said, do you really think I am too cynical?"
"I did not say that Lizzy, you misunderstand me. You do that, sometimes." It was not an accusation, nor was it said unkindly.
"I do that quite a lot, it seems. And not just with you. Am I as cynical as Papa, then?" She had not thought a visit to her mother's room would result in an exploration of her character. However, if everyone else was right, it was something she needed to address if she were to resolve her current situation.
"Your father prefers his books, his histories and classics, to his family because he has distance from the blame, blunders, and consequences. He can ignore the parts he does not like and savor those he does. Fictions always work out in the end with no effort on his part. He can read and remain passive. He compares the people in his life against the characters and figures on the page. We are all judged by how much they entertain him.
"While you have some of his cynicism, where your father is passive, you are more assertive. Too much so, perhaps. You do not soften your opinions and speak sometimes when you should not. You are very like me in that, and Lydia too. You also have my stubbornness. Depending on the situation, that can serve you well or not at all."
The sadness in her mother's voice brought tears to Elizabeth's eyes. She stopped the hand that still stroked her head. Rising to her knees, she leaned in to kiss her mother's cheek. Mrs. Bennet raised her hand to touch the spot Lizzy kissed. She looked fondly at her second oldest daughter.
"I have surprised you, I think. I can be sensible at times. Since this is one of those times, let me apologize for trying to force Mr. Collins on you. I am just so worried about you girls and what will happen to me when your father is gone. I know you do not often hear me admit when I am wrong, but I am sorry." A faraway look came across her face. "You will learn that once you admit to one mistake you begin to see more of them. Recognizing your mistakes leads you to recognizing your regrets."
Elizabeth clasped the hand she still held. "You have surprised me, Mama. But then so have Lydia and Jane. And Uncle Phillips, this all started with him." The last few words were said so quietly Mrs. Bennet did not hear them. "That so many people have the capacity to surprise me speaks of my own failings. I think I have trusted too much in my own understanding despite being shown how imperfect it was time and again. Perhaps I would not be so surprised if I had bothered to see people for who they truly are." What was it Jane said? We are all much more than the labels you give us.
"That is very insightful, dear. I am sure you will find your way. Have I helped you? Is that why you came to me tonight?" Mrs. Bennet looked pleased at the thought.
"You have helped me but in a rather unexpected way. I came for another purpose, but I am not sure if anything can be done." Elizabeth's smile was sad.
"Perhaps not, but I am still happy to listen. You and Jane usually turn to each other for support. Come sit with me." Mrs. Bennet scooted over for Elizabeth to sit next to her. It was a tight fit but as Mrs. Bennet spread her lap blanket across them both, it felt snug and safe to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth took a deep breath to fortify herself. "I have done very poorly by Mr. Darcy, have I not?"
"Mr. Darcy? I know he is not a great favorite of yours but is there something more that I do not know?" Mrs. Bennet was used to her daughter's strong views, and often found her own opinions at odds with Elizabeth's.
"You know those mistakes you were speaking of earlier? I believe I have made a most grievous one, several actually. Instead of correcting my errors accordingly I stubbornly, willfully, repeated them. It hurt to admit I was so mistaken, and I only compounded my wrongs against him."
"I know Mr. Darcy did little to earn our approbation when he first came to the neighborhood, but he realized that and changed his behavior. Now he is quite amiable. To my mind, I thought he would do well for you. He seemed to favor you at one time. However, it was very obvious you could not forgive him his earlier slights, so I dismissed it. An attachment to Mr. Darcy would have been much more advantageous than one with Mr. Collins." Elizabeth was relieved to discover that despite her myriad problems in sketching people's character that some of her mother's personality was intact.
"But what do I do now? I am mortified by my behavior. It is unfortunate that I have only now learned some humility when I cannot apologize. I cannot stand the thought that Mr. Darcy is somewhere in the world thinking ill of me. And if am ever able to apologize, I do not know if I can explain why I reacted so. Have you ever just pursued a course of action so relentlessly that you cannot turn back? It as if I am digging a well and cannot climb my way out.
"After Mr. Darcy's conduct at the assembly, everybody supported me and shared my dislike of Mr. Darcy. Even then I knew he was not so very bad but when Mr. Wickham came telling tales I was more than willing to believe him. It is only due to Uncle Phillips that I learned the truth. I even helped thwart Mr. Wickham's intentions to slander Mr. Darcy. So did you, in fact."
"Mr. Wickham? He is a man of no consequence. However did I help?" Mrs. Bennet could not fathom how she might have played a role in thwarting anything.
Elizabeth smiled at her mother, remembering that night at the Phillips home. "A man of no consequence. That sums up Mr. Wickham quite accurately. You and my aunt influenced others in that regard and Mr. Wickham was not able to practice his charms on the ladies in the neighborhood."
Mrs. Bennet looked a little smug at the thought that she held such sway among the town. She took a moment to relish the feeling before she asked her next questions. "And Mr. Darcy did not appreciate your assistance? Did he insult you again?"
"The answer to those questions is not as straightforward as you might think. I was still stung by Mr. Darcy's insult and how he treated everybody. When I was at Netherfield he just kept staring at me and challenging everything I said. I was predisposed to believe Mr. Wickham's lies. I would have allowed myself to be completely taken in by the cad. Uncle Phillips save me from myself. Then I was angry because I had to be saved.
"I have thought on this at length. Mr. Darcy was grateful, but I did not believe it. I took everything he said and twisted it around. Then everybody started growing fond of him and started pitying me for not recognizing his goodness. I felt abandoned by everyone. I was immature, there is no doubt, but I just began to resent everyone, and I saw Mr. Darcy as the cause. And now Mama, I feel like the most ridiculous creature that ever lived."
"Do you like Mr. Darcy, Lizzy?" Elizabeth hesitated with her answer, something that did not go unnoticed by her mother.
"Well, I…no, NO!" Elizabeth shook her finger at her mother. Her empathic reply was directed at the familiar gleam in her mother's eye rather than a comment on her feelings about Mr. Darcy. "I have not allowed myself to think anything positive of Mr. Darcy, but I think I could like him."
"Perhaps when your aunt and uncle Gardiner come for Christmas you may return to London with them. You might find the opportunity to meet with Mr. Darcy and apologize, at least then you will feel better. If you do not see him, you would still be able to enjoy a visit. A change of scenery would do you good. I do not think Charlotte will be extending an invitation to Hunsford any time soon."
"Yet another relationship I will need to repair. But I think I would like to go to London if my aunt and uncle will have me. Thank you, Mama."
"Now off to bed with you. We can talk more in the morning."