While I have been thanking reviewers in PMs, I have been remiss in thanking reviewers publicly, so here is my roll-call of thanks based on number of reviews since I started posting this revised version. Shout outs to all my faithful reviewers in order of number of reviews:
#1 is a tie with the super awesome Jansfamily4 and Windchimed (38 reviews); thank you so much for reviewing every chapter. You rock!
#2 goes to Carolinaonestop (23 reviews); thank you so much!
#3 is held by SunriseImagination (20); you are so kind to review while not logged on because you reviewed the original version. I appreciate you!
#4 Guest (19); as this probably is several individuals, take collective pride in the fact that I keep seeing Guest and smiling. I can't reply to you in a message, but I treasure the reviews, nevertheless.
#5 Colleen S (17); liysyl (15); and Stephyyy01 (13). Yes, Colleen has the most reviews but the rest of you have a good distance above the rest of the pack. Thanks for going the extra mile.
Honorable mentions to: BooksAreMedicine (7); Jolanda Den Ouden and Leslie E (6); Motherof8 and mariantoinette1 (5); Dw.618 and Kiwipride (4); fanofNC, LoveInTheBattleField, Sacredwoman2k, Onestopshop and Ruk (3); RuthAnneS, 3tuxedocats, Lisa, ercilia, pemsnowy, Sooty85, Wyndwhyspyr, mrsmcdaniel, cmwinnj, DrMemweCullen and RegencyLover (2); RuthAnneS, musingmarauder, katriaine, jcqaz, abujoe, Witchilean, Lorna, billrausch, MrsMarySmythe, FannyBennet (1). Even if you have only reviewed occasionally or even only one time, you make my day when I see your review!
Chapter 33: Making Plans
The church service itself was uneventful, but afterwards while Georgiana and I were waiting to speak to Miss Elizabeth (she and several other ladies were gathered around an infant who had been baptized just that morning and Georgiana was caught up in all the admiring talk), I observed what seemed to be an intense discussion between Mr. Collins, Mrs. Collins and Lady Catherine. I was too far away, and the chatter of other people was too loud (speaking of the baby's tiny hands, darling face and lovely baptismal gown) for me to make out more than a few words.
I heard, "not . . .Anne's intended" from Lady Catherine as she gestured widely and "cousin?" from Mr. Collins, followed by a distinctive frown. I could not hear any words from Mrs. Collins and her back was towards me as well, so I had no idea of her reaction to whatever was being discussed.
I hoped Mr. Collins was being corrected in his misapprehension that Lady Catherine had earlier firmly fostered in everyone that I was engaged to Anne. However, I feared she was also telling him of my interest in Miss Elizabeth. There was no telling how Mr. Collins might try to help forward a match between me and Miss Elizabeth. I suspected his "help" might be more than I could bear.
I strained to hear additional words, but they were all speaking more quietly now and there was no hope for me hearing anything unless I were to go closer. I considered doing just that when I was interrupted by my sister lightly pinching my arm to get my attention. I turned and asked, "What is it?"
"Look, Brother." She gestured with a finger. I then saw that Miss Elizabeth had somehow ended up holding the baby (I could not recall whether it was a boy or girl, they all look the same in their baptismal gowns and all the gowns that infants wear) while the mother attended to another one of her children. The baby was against Miss Elizabeth's shoulder and the baby was drooling on her pale pink gown, forming a large darker blotch as she had no cloth to protect her shoulder.
I had the impulse to offer her my handkerchief, had already drawn it from my pocket, when Georgiana said, "Not here, not before everyone." I nodded and secreted it back in my pocket, seeing the wisdom of her words. Until we had an understanding, it would not do to offer such familiarity. I longed, though, to have the freedom to do much for her. I took that moment when my hand was in my pocket, to locate the little ribbon, to assure myself it was there, beneath the handkerchief I was tucking over it.
Well after church on Sunday, I prepared to call on Miss Elizabeth with Georgiana. However, I was dismayed when, as the carriage was being readied for my sister (I would of course ride beside it as usual), Lady Catherine appeared and declared, "I must certainly accompany you both on your call on the Collinses. You will see, I will sort everything out to your satisfaction so that you may resume your courtship."
No matter my personal feelings on her deciding to come with us, I certainly was in no position to refuse. Lady Catherine's addition to the party was hard to adjust to and I felt disquieted in how to alter my plans to accommodate her being along on the call. I did not want to make a single error, but I also resolved to be whom I am as Miss Elizabeth had requested.
When we arrived and conversation began in the front parlor which faced the drive (rather than in the back parlor where I had talked with Miss Elizabeth twice), I quickly determined that Lady Catherine's kindly interference once again relegated me to mere observer as she dominated the conversation with Mr. Collins, who was all agreement as her faithful servant. After the usual greetings, my aunt exclaimed, "We have all certainly missed your company, Miss Bennet. You must certainly resume practicing the pianoforte with Georgiana again. Perhaps Anne's little outburst may have been a touch disquieting, but Anne is very sorry for the disagreement and hopes to see you again very soon."
"Thank you, Madam," was all the reply Miss Elizabeth gave. I wondered to which of Lady Catherine's pronouncements Miss Elizabeth was responding.
However, her response must have been sufficient for my aunt as immediately, Lady Catherine launched into an extensive discussion of the outing she had with Anne, about how much she had learned and praised her daughter's knowledge and discernment, and their plans for future outings. None of us made more than the briefest of comments and it seemed she was not looking for anything more.
However, then Lady Catherine smoothly segued into observing, "Miss Elizabeth you seem out of spirits. You must not want to go home again so soon. Since that is the case, you must write to your mother to beg that you may stay a little longer. Mrs. Collins will be very glad of your company, I am sure, as will we all, including Darcy."
I understood then what Lady Catherine's purpose had been in joining our call. Likely, Georgiana had discussed with Lady Catherine our desire for Miss Elizabeth to extend her visit with the Collinses, citing Anne's behavior as causing a rift between us and not giving me enough time to make my suit.
Mr. Collins rapidly agreed on behalf of himself and his wife, saying, "Cousin Elizabeth, please let me humbly request the extension of your visit as a personal favor to myself and Mrs. Collins. You may stay as long as you wish."
I wondered how Miss Lucas felt as the sister of Mrs. Collins, not being begged to stay longer, but was immediately distracted by that thought by Miss Elizabeth's reply. "I am much obliged to your ladyship and my Cousin Collins for your kind invitation, but it is not in my power to accept it.—I must be in town on Saturday."
My aunt scrunched her lips together before responding, "Why, at that rate, you will have been here only six weeks. I expected you to stay two months. I told Mrs. Collins so before you came. There can be no occasion for you going so soon. Mrs. Bennet could certainly spare you for another fortnight."
"But my father cannot.—He wrote last week to hurry my return." I tried to determine for myself if she was happy to be leaving or regretting that she could not stay longer, but I could not make out what her face might have told someone else.
"Oh! your father of course may spare you, if your mother can.—Daughters are never of so much consequence to a father."
Mr. Collins seemed anxious to speak, and when Lady Catherine paused he added, "Cousin, I can certainly write to your father and request that he extend you visit; surely he would understand how indispensable you are to the present company," he nodded at me, "and that there are certain things here that are yet in motion and not yet completed."
Was Mr. Collins thinking of my wish to formalize my relationship with Miss Elizabeth? Had my aunt discussed even that with him?
Miss Elizabeth blushed before responding. "I thank all of you for the kindness of the invitation, but all the plans for our return are already in motion and I believe we must abide by our original plan."
Finally, I found an opening to speak, to do what I could for myself: "May I please request one small alteration?" I saw everyone turn to look at me and I wished to be far away from all those staring eyes, but I kept my head raised rather than retreating into myself, focusing on looking at Miss Elizabeth rather than the others. All were quiet and let me continue.
"My sister and I plan to depart soon as well. I know she will join me in issuing an invitation for Miss Elizabeth and Miss Lucas to join our traveling party to London. We can arrange to depart on your original date. The ladies may all ride together in our carriage while I ride beside."
"What a wonderful idea, Brother." Georgiana was quick to join in endorsing the idea. "I should so like the lively conversation of my two new friends."
"Oh, I insist that you join them, Miss Bennet" there was a little pause before she added "and Miss Lucas." I wondered why my aunt had hesitated in speaking her name. Could it be that she had trouble recalling it?
Then she added, a little more stridently, "You know I always speak my mind, and I cannot bear the ides of two young women traveling by post by themselves. It is highly improper. You must certainly accept the invitation, as a personal favor to me."
I heard Miss Lucas quietly say, "I would like this arrangement if Elizabeth will agree."
I did not know if Miss Elizabeth liked the idea or not, for she had said nothing yet. Her expression was pleasant, but I know that people can school their faces to not reveal their true emotions, but this is not a talent that I possess. I can only still my face, rather than make myself look happy when sad. I wondered, if she were to accept, whether she might merely be consenting based on Lady Catherine's hearty recommendation and Miss Lucas's endorsement of such a plan. I wondered if I had erred in making my proposal before everyone.
Miss Elizabeth responded, looking first at me and then at my sister, "How can I but agree when convenience and good company are assured. I will write to my father and uncle to let them know of this change in the plans."
I was already picturing riding my horse beside the carriage and catching glimpses of Miss Elizabeth through the carriage window yet wishing I could be inside it with her alone.
"We will have such a lovely time," Georgiana exclaimed. Shortly after that she prevailed on Miss Elizabeth to show her the new chicks. A few minutes later, having exceeded a visit of a half hour, we returned to Rosings.
After the visit Georgiana and I retreated to the Rosing's library to talk. As I idly took a book off the shelve and randomly opened it somewhere in the middle, she told me, "Those little chicks are surprisingly engaging, all fluffy and wandering in various directions, however Miss Elizabeth paid them no mind when I told her how you had asked me if I had ever been scared of you and what I had remembered then."
I placed that book back and riffled through another as Georgiana briefly summarized their exchange and told me about suggestions she provided Miss Elizabeth for handling Anne and then told me, "Miss Elizabeth has agreed to try resuming our practices together. I think she is still wary of seeing Anne again," my sister added, "but not you. She understands what we are trying to do for Anne and why we feel compelled to do so and will assist while here in Hunsford if Anne will warm toward her once more."
I placed the book back in the empty space where it belonged, turned toward my sister and told her, "Thank you, Georgiana," I told her. We exchanged smiles and then I began looking in earnest for a book that I might read.
That evening after dinner, I retreated to my chambers as I was of no mood to be in company with Lady Catherine and Anne. I paced back and forth in the room, and it took a while before I could put a name to how I was feeling, but finally was able to arrive at the fact that I felt anxious because of Miss Elizabeth's visit on the morrow.
I forced myself to lay on the bed and read as an appropriate calming activity. Although I tried my best to read "The Rime of the Ancyent Marinere" in Lyrical Ballads, I could not become absorbed in the sailor's story and stopped at the end of the first section of three, finishing the last stanza which ended with lines 76-80:
"God save thee, ancyent Marinere!
"From the fiends that plague thee thus—
"Why look'st thou so?"—with my cross bow
I shot the Albatross.
I closed the book and plonked it on the floor; it made a nice loud thunk, but it was not at such a height that it could have harmed the book. My dropping of it was controlled. Seeing as how reading was not helping me, I decided to indulge myself in playing a sort of game.
I waited until Jeffrey had come and gone after helping me to prepare for bed (he retrieved the book from the floor and placed it on a table where I had some other books). Then I retrieved the ribbon from my coat pocket, beneath its handkerchief bed, and held it in my hand. I reclined upon my bed while holding it.
To someone observing me, I might have appeared to be doing nothing much, but if someone could have glimpsed inside my mind, they would have found me well occupied, fully immersed in a game I have played at least 1,793 times before with my string (since I was old enough to mark pencil to paper I have marked tally-marks upon some paper to record how many times I have played the game and counted them up, but sometimes the sheet was thrown out). It was something I had arrived upon as if by accident when Governess Hayes had seized all my snakes and worms, but it had taken me some months to discover that I could imagine my play things even when they were not present and some further months to allow my mind to roam as far as making the ropes and strings be different from what they actually were.
In recent years, I typically played this game with my string and it was different now as the shiny, flat ribbon replaced the greyish brown, rounded and fuzzy string. It made the game different, but the variation of it was still pleasant.
I imagined the ribbon in my hand getting longer, stretching out, unfurling, growing impossibly long. I could see it spanning from one end of the room to the other, bursting forth suddenly like popcorn. As if I were drawing a line on paper, my mind drew out its path. But it was not the flattened path of a line on paper as the ribbon took up space in all dimensions, anchoring itself on a baroque feature of the large wardrobe, then diving down to loop under my stockinged foot, swirling around my leg in a diagonal path and then over to the bedpost, where after forming a single loop it flew off in quest of more objects to attach itself to or surround. The ribbon piled up, lightly reflecting the light (first the sunlight from the window and then the candle light when it grew dark), building up on itself until it became endless and filled my whole room, surrounding me in an elaborate web.
Before I fell asleep, I remembered to place the ribbon back in a drawer and let the imagined ribbon continue to grow longer and trace ever more intricate patterns. I fell asleep surrounded this imagined ribbon, gossamer thin, surrounding everything. In the morning when I awoke, I could not recall every twist and turn, but I remembered much of the path it had taken and I traced its path back in reverse as it retracted, until the room emptied and there was just a bit of imagined ribbon in my hand. I felt a bit sad to see it almost entirely vanish, so I imagined that last little bit wrapping around my wrist and arm.
I felt more settled, calm. Still, I longed to see Miss Elizabeth as soon as I could. Although, I knew it wasn't entirely proper, I thought if I set out for a walk a half an hour before she was due to arrive, perhaps I might be able to accompany her back to Rosings.
While I was walking, my hand strayed often to my pocket to caress the ribbon concealed there. I kept thinking of her whose dress it belonged to and what it would feel like to glide my finger over the other parts of her dress while she wore it that were festooned by its mates, all likely cut from the same spool of ribbon. It wasn't nearly so improper to imagine lightly touching the ribbon encircling her upper arm, as that of the one near her neck. Thoughts like this kept me occupied on my walk.
Luck was with me as I was close to the Hunsford parsonage when I spotted Miss Elizabeth walking toward me with a basket of flowers, coming not from the parsonage, but the woods. I greeted her and she rewarded me with a bright smile. She was wearing a light green gown with embroidered flowers along the bottom of the gown with smaller flowers upon the bodice and her usual bonnet. It was a warm day and she had foregone a wrap. The color brought out a hint of green to her dark eyes.
I asked, "Miss Elizabeth, may I carry your basket?"
She smiled and told me, "You may. I collected these wildflowers for Anne as a sort of peace offering." I offered my arm and she took it. We walked together toward and then down the lane. I felt well and wished I could keep walking with her forever, or at least well past Rosings.
"You may think it is silly," she told me, "given that Anne was the one who was mean to me, but I feel better having something for her even though these combined flowers would not make a good arrangement."
I did not think it strange at all, instead it was just another sign of her kind heart wishing to resume a good relationship with my cousin. Could perhaps this effort be for me, I wondered, or did she simply seek to help my cousin and spend time with Georgiana once more? I knew it was silly to seek any sign that someday her heart might belong to me.
While I recognized many of the flowers, I did not know the names of most, besides the daisies and the bluebells so I asked her, "Do you know the names of all of these flowers?"
Miss Elizabeth paused walking, I stopped also and the two of us looked into her basket. I could not help but think of how our posture resembled two parents peering into a cradle to admire their sleeping babe. I could imagine her with a baby after having seen her with the baby just the day before.
"I do not know all the names myself," she told me, "but this one is a bluebell and this other one is a foxglove. I was particularly happy to find these flowers," she said pointing to two kinds. "These yellow flowers are kingcups. I think she will like the name. These blue ones are forget-me-nots. They are associated with King Henry the Fourth. I hope she has no problem with him!"
"What is the association?" I asked her, peering at the tiny blue flowers. I was trying to determine whether anything in the association would create a problem for Anne.
"When he was Henry of Lancaster and banished, during his year in exile, 1398, the forget-me-nots became his emblem and motto. His supporters would wear embroidered forget-me-nots on their clothes to show their support."
"I cannot see anything in that which should cause a difficulty," I answered. "I do not think the fact that he was also named Henry should be a problem. It is well that you incorporated her interest."
"Do you think she will like them?" She persisted.
"I imagine so." Although a woman would never pick flowers for a man, I could not help but be wistful and wish that her regard had resulted in her collecting the forget-me-nots for me. While I had not known the King Henry the Fourth's story, I knew that these flowers were a symbol of true love.
Then I realized I had never given a thought to giving her flowers. While it was not entirely proper, maybe I could select some for her. I would have to talk to Georgiana to see if she thought I should do so or not. Would Miss Elizabeth recognize what I was thinking, if I brought forget-me-nots to her?
When we arrived at Rosings, Georgiana left immediately to fetch Anne. Earlier that morning Georgiana had discussed with me the best way for Anne and Miss Elizabeth to see each other again. We had agreed that it would be prudent for them to meet together in front of us, before they went to play piano forte.
We made idle conversation for a few minutes, but I was almost certain she was discomforted for she plucked at her skirt as she sat. When Georgiana came back with Anne, the basket lay forgotten on a side table when Elizabeth rose to greet her.
Anne said, "I am sorry," as she was obviously coached to do, but then added, somewhat angrily, "Anne was right. I know she was right. She was right! King Henry the Eighth was wrong."
"Of course, he was!" Miss Elizabeth cried out loudly. "He acted very wrong indeed."
Anne seemed pleased as she nodded to herself and then rushed to embrace Miss Elizabeth, who startled momentarily with the speed of Anne's action, but quickly placed her arms around Anne. "I missed you," Anne confided, looking Miss Elizabeth right in the eyes for a moment before laying her head down on Miss Elizabeth's lower shoulder, snuggling her face against Miss Elizabeth's neck. Miss Elizabeth patted Anne somewhat awkwardly as Anne spoke once more, "Glad you are here, can we play music some more?"
Miss Elizabeth assured her, "Of course we can." She seemed to more at ease when Anne loosened her hold. Far sooner than I had expected, the ladies began leaving the room. I realised I had been completely superfluous, but as they left Miss Elizabeth glanced back at me, smiled, and mouthed the words, "Thank you."
I smiled back, uncertain as to what I had done. Perhaps it was just accompanying her back to Rosings, listening while she talked about the flowers? Whatever it was, I felt a wave of gratitude that she was here, thanking me.
I wished that I could just embrace Miss Elizabeth as Anne had done, rather than hoping to just feel her hand on my arm or to hold her hand for a moment. Someday, I told myself, when we are married and together alone, I may embrace her. I settled in with Lyrical Ballads again to wait until they would return for tea.
