Elizabeth lay abed, aware that it was long past the time she would usually get out of bed. But it was no use, as she had not been able to take her usual morning walks, generally two or three miles before breakfast, and while she was still abed, she did not have to interact with Mr. Collins. Jane and Kitty generally took a walk of half an hour or so along the lawns of the estate, but even that had diminished after the elder Mr. Collins had declared Jane to be fit enough, and his son would hardly question his father's claims-as it was, it hardly mattered that his father was dead. His word was law. A fact Elizabeth was slowly realizing would always hold true.
A short rap on her door was the only notice she received before it was thrust open. Before Elizabeth could comprehend her actions, she had flung herself onto the floor. And waited-hoping and praying for what she knew not. All she knew was that she was afraid.
"Lizzie?" a feminine voice was heard.
Elizabeth sighed in relief. It was her sister Lydia. Who, in her usual brashness, a trait that the Collinses had not managed to completely train out of her, had barged into her room. Elizabeth hauled herself up from the floor awkwardly, and then faced her sister, a sheepish look dominating her face. Lydia furrowed her brow.
"Lizzie what were you doing on the floor?"
Elizabeth said nothing, for she could not tell Lydia, nor Jane for that matter of the previous night and early morning, when she had laid awake, listening to Mr. Collins heavy steps stop, and pause on the other side of her door.
She did not wish for her sisters to realize that she could only wait, and see what happened.
Without waiting for an answer, Lydia leapt into other matters.
"Lizzie, today is Aunt Phillips card party! Mary and I want some new ribbons to trim our bonnets." Continuing on, she faltered, suddenly looking elsewhere.
"W-would you speak to Mr. Collins?" she asked timidly. "About allowing us to walk to Meryton to go the milliner's shop? Even if we could only go to one shop that would be wonderful!" she exclaimed enthusiastically, as though that would be the basis of Mr. Collins allowing them to go anywhere. Due to their partial mourning of his father, and the assumption that they would soon be mourning her own father, the Bennet ladies had spent a rather limited time in the actual town of Meryton, only leaving for assemblies, and even then, rarely. Mr. Collins wished to allow them time to prepare themselves for more mourning, and it benefitted him as he could keep Elizabeth under his thumb for the time being.
Elizabeth studied the anxiously hopeful face of her younger sister for a few moments, before conceding with a small nod.
"Of course Lydia, I will speak to Mr. Collins after our morning meal. Will you go see if the horses are needed on the farm? If not, that may persuade his opinion more in our favor, if we should go by carriage." she said nonsensically.
Lydia gave Elizabeth a tight, enthusiastic hug, before rushing back to the door, now tremoring in excitement and boundless amounts of energy as every fifteen year old girl had. Stopping in the doorway, she curiously composed herself and turned to look back at Elizabeth.
"Lizzie?" she asked, her voice low.
"Yes?"
"Are you quite all right?" The question was asked in so sincere a tone that Elizabeth wanted to cry, but did not wish to frighten her sister.
Swallowing raggedly, she replied, "I am well, Lydia. Go on, I shall follow you in a few moments time. I need to get dressed."
Lydia shot her a look that stated she clearly was not fooled, but left anyway.
Wiping the coming tears from her eyes, Elizabeth moved to her closet to get dressed, and to compose herself for the coming conversation that she must have.
Mr. Collins had confined himself within his study when he heard a short knock breach his study's sanctum.
"Yes, you may come in." he said, presuming that it was Hill arriving with the tea tray. He always liked to take tea and a few pieces of toast while he worked the ledgers in the morning. The door was opened, and to his immense pleasure and satisfaction it was his betrothed, his dear cousin Eliza-holding his tea tray! Even more perfect!
He leapt to his feet.
"Yes, my dear, come in, come in! Set the tray down here." he said, gesturing to the empty place he had set aside for such occasions, every morning.
His betrothed did as she was bid, and it warmed his heart to think that his father had gone to the lengths he had to choose such a fine bride for him, his only son and heir. Although his betrothed still had a rather sharp tongue, she had not used it in quite some time, and for that he was grateful. She was learning,and he was very eager to instruct her. Soon she would be the perfect Collins bride, the perfect Collins heir. Just like his dearly beloved mother, whom God had taken too soon from his family.
His betrothed sank down onto the chair opposite his own with as much grace as he would expect from a woman who was to be mistress of such an estate, and regarded him respectfully-a trait that he and his father had worked hard to instill upon her from the early days of their residency.
Once again, he thanked God that he had had his father with him when he had arrived at Longbourn. Heaven help him if he had to take upon all of this himself! He was entirely sure that he would have been driven mad and sent to Bedlam, and then where would his fair cousins be without his guidance?
"How may I help you my dear?" he asked condescendingly, entirely sure that there was some matter that his fair cousin needed his help with, otherwise why should she be here, disturbing the master of the estate while he worked to improve their livelihoods? As a point in her favor, how he knew that she would make him an excellent bride, even before his father had chosen her for him, was that she was extremely respectful of his privacy, and had never sought him out early in the morning. Not for her trivial, feminine needs.
He watched as his dear cousin swallowed nervously, and then responded to his question.
"Sir, I was simply wondering if my sisters and I could walk into Meryton, if you should not be able to spare the horses from the farm, to go the milliner's shop after breakfast. You see," and her his lovely cousin rushed to explain, for she knew that he would be entirely displeased if she had interrupted his work for some foppish request, although he had immensely enjoyed her visit, and was considering having her join him every morning-to encourage their natural felicity, of course.
"You see," she repeated, and his heart warmed at her soft, feminine voice. He considered it a mark of extreme pride and attraction that when she addressed him, and only him, her voice had changed into something that was more feminine and docile. Another mark, surely that they were completely made for each other, two halves of a whole, as God had said.
"As you know, Mr. Collins, my dear Aunt Phillips has invited us to her card party, later this afternoon. And we were hoping that we should be able to go into town and buy some ribbons for our hats. We should like to show Longbourn at its best. Would that be all right, Mr. Collins?" she asked uncertainly.
Mr. Collins leaned back in his chair, not showing his fair cousin what he was thinking. He was, of course, going to allow her and her sisters into town for this brief visit.
It would be a reward with how well they had behaved themselves when Mr. Bingley and his party had dined in his home. Such behavior deserved a reward, especially for the younger two girls, who had been shameless hoydens-loose women, they were sure to become if there was no one who would take the trouble to check them. And so he did. He was sure that Mr. Bingley had heard the rumors of their former behavior, and now he had seen first hand that Mr. Collins was an intelligent, knowledgeable master of his own household and estate-a very valuable neighbor.
But he should also like to give his fair cousin the knowledge that what she has will not come for free, that her days as being able to sit, read Fordyce's Sermons, and embroider cushions would soon come to an end. In the beginning, his father had instructed that his fair cousin should sit with him in this very study, and learn how to work the estate properly, as its mistress, and so those lessons had taken very few days. Now, her mornings were spent directing the servants with her mother, but he thought that she should also learn how to work with himself. Learn just how often he had to make the most difficult decisions, and how that affected her pin money, for instance.
He gave his fair cousin an alluring smile. Licking his lips, he leaned forward and said "Of course my dear cousin. Your youngest sisters, of course, deserve a reward for their sensible and modest behavior for the meal with Mr. Bingley and his guests. However," he said sharply, when she opened her mouth to thank him. She closed it rather fast, and looked rather wounded, so he rushed to assure her.
"I do apologize my fair cousin. But I was simply wishing to be able to speak without any interruptions, you understand, do you not my dear?" He waited for her to nod hesitantly, pleased that she had grassed his intentions so thoroughly, and so quickly.
"However," he repeated, "I should wish that you would start taking your mornings her in this study, with me. I believe that God intends to take your father not too long before nigh, and it should be a wonderful idea for us to begin on our intimate felicity, do you not agree, my dear?" He knew that she would, that she was grateful to be marrying an intelligent man who wished to secure her comfort before they were even formally engaged!
"Yes, Mr. Collins." she finally said. His fair cousin sounded a bit unenthusiastic, but Mr. Collins reminded himself that she was a proper lady, and that proper ladies her age did not encourage men of his station. It was natural for them to wish to be seen as chaste individuals, and he thoroughly agreed with his fair cousin on that score. How wonderful that their fundamental values had thoroughly matched together!
"You may go my dear, you and your sisters, after our morning meal."
He gestured that she should leave, so that he could get back to his ledgers. His fair cousin, ever the proper lady, gave him a deep curtsey, as she had been taught, and smoothly glided away. A small smile came over his face, and remained there the entire morning, as he thought of their future together.
A walk. A glorious walk. Elizabeth sighed in pleasure as at the cool breeze drew gently across her face. She was keeping a sedate pace, as to not outmatch Jane. All the sisters were. Lydia, Mary, and Kitty were all arm in arm, chattering about something, anything. Although Mary was new to the world of giggling, she had quickly matched Lydia and Kitty, excited and happy to bond with her younger sisters. She had often felt the odd sister out, and Elizabeth had felt even more guilty, after everything had happened, that she had allowed her younger sister to be as ignored as she had been. They were together now, truly together, and that was all that mattered.
The sisters entered the shop, it was curiously empty for the time of day, and Elizabeth watched in amusement as her younger sisters swooped into the remaining ribbons, examining them critically for their differences in color, texture, material, size, and cost. She had tucked her extra allowance into her reticule for such an event, as she was entirely sure that her sisters, most likely Lydia-whose boldness would never leave her, but, perhaps be dampened somewhat-would ask to borrow money.
"Lizzie, are you quite all right?" The question came from Jane, who had not gone off with their sisters to peruse the ribbon, nor gone off on her own. It should not have surprised her, but it did. She turned to her sister.
"I suppose Lydia spoke to you." It was not a question.
"Yes, she told me that when she came into your room this morning, you were under the bed. And that she had heard you fall."
"I am fine, Jane."
Jane slipped her hand into Elizabeth's. She gave a meaningful squeeze, and Elizabeth was reminded of the conversation they had some weeks ago, while in their carriage to attend upon the Bingley sisters. She was certain Jane had remembered it too.
At that moment Lydia and Kitty came to her side, each with pleading expressions, and allowing their gazes to follow Mary, who was still critically examining the ribbons, as she used to do for her books. With an exaggerated, long suffering sigh, Elizabeth dramatically flourished her reticule containing her money, and handed it over to her sister Kitty's eager hands.
With a quick kiss to her sister's cheek, Kitty glided back to Mary with as much feminine grace as she could muster. Lydia stayed with Elizabeth and Jane, a curious expression dominating her face.
"Are you sure you are well, Lizzie?" she finally asked, seeing the confusion on Elizabeth and Jane's face.
Elizabeth rushed to assure her.
"I am quite well, Lydia."
Lydia's face transformed into understanding, as she whispered, "I am not a child any longer, Lizzie." She gave a mournful pout, reminding Elizabeth of her youth, as she flounced off.
"I say, is that the Bennet ladies!" a masculine voice was heard behind them, and Elizabeth turned to see the owner of such a voice, only to see that it was an officer-Denny if she remembered correctly. One of the very officers that Lydia and Kitty had shamelessly flirted with previously. Beside him was a rather handsome man, who especially stood out due to the sharpness of his dress. He and Denny, if Elizabeth could still voice such thoughts, even to herself, looked very dashing and smart in their uniform and dress, and she could see why Lydia and Kitty had fallen for the men in regiments.
Looking beside her, at Lydia and Kitty, she was pleased to see that although they had returned Denny's greeting, they had done so respectively and in a normal tone. None of the shrieking and giggling of yesteryear.
"I say, I have not seen you ladies in quite some time." Denny said, when it was clear that Lydia and Kitty were not going to fall over themselves giggling over him.
"Our family has decided to stay somewhat close to home, because of the death of Mr. Collins' Papa and our Papa." Lydia finally said, her gaze betraying to Elizabeth's face, wishing for confirmation that she had said the right thing. A smile from Elizabeth told her she had.
Denny bowed dramatically, Elizabeth sardonically noted, but the man beside him did not. He simply gave a short bow, tipped his hat before murmuring that he was very sorry for their loss. Sarcastic feelings swept Elizabeth's mind as she realized that he had probably heard exactly what had happened to their family from Denny himself, or from some other gossip in town.
"You ladies still are going to Mrs. Phillips card party, are you not?" Denny gave them, especially Lydia and Kitty a roguish smile, that Elizabeth did not like at all.
Lydia opened her mouth to respond to his inquiry, and Elizabeth stepped forward to answer, intent on getting Denny's attention off of her younger sisters, when out of the corner of her eye, a shadow drew. She turned to see what it was.
It was Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, both on their magnificent horses. Mr. Bingley swung off his horse, haphazardly, and gave the Bennet ladies a low bow. Beside him, Mr. Darcy had not gotten off his horse, and was regarding the man next to Denny with something akin to loathing.
Their eyes met, his dark and furious, and he gave Elizabeth a short nod, before directing his horse to gallop off.
Mr. Bingley gave the Bennet ladies an apologetic smile, before excusing himself to gallop after his friend.
The man next to Denny spoke.
"I have been entirely rude, I have not introduced myself. I am George Wickham," he said with a bow to each of the sisters. He then said, with a nod in the direction of Mr. Darcy, "That was Mr. Darcy, of Pemberley, correct?"
"You are indeed, sir, correct. He is staying with Mr. Bingley, the tenant of Netherfield-the closest neighbor to our estate." Jane said quietly.
Mr. Wickham gave her a charming smile, his eyes lingering on her cane, and then spoke of other matters.
"What is this I hear of a card party, eh Denny?" he asked jovially.
Denny turned to answer his friend, but not before giving Lydia and Kitty an alluring wink.
"Their Aunt Phillips throws card parties once or twice a month, and these lovely ladies are sure to attend it for the first time in a year or so, to my recollection."
Mr. Wickham gave them another bow, "Then I should be entirely remiss if I did not attend such an event." He added considerately to his friend, "Perhaps we should go out of their way, Denny. I am sure these ladies have other important tasks to accomplish before the day is over, and we are blocking their way."
With bows and curtsies exchanged, the gentlemen and ladies were on their way.
Elizabeth massaged the spot upon which her arm ached, as she sipped some punch slowly. Mr. Collins had forcefully grabbed her arm when they had gotten out of the carriage, because she had not gone to his side quick enough, and it still stung. She hoped it would not bruise, that he had not left his mark upon her. He had been grabbing her more and more, and it was getting quite difficult to conceal even the lightest of marks.
Mr. Collins was attempting to play Vingt-Un, drawn into the game by her shrewd Aunt Phillips, who gave her a gentle smile; Lydia and Kitty were in a game with Maria and her dear Charlotte, Mary was playing a light, merry tune upon the pianoforte, and Jane sat next to Mama, who was holding court with some other ladies. The officers had indeed been surprised when Lydia and Kitty had not chased after them, as they always had before, nor even to really speak with them, but generally pleasantries. It had taken them but a few moments to get over their shock, and sport with some other young ladies.
A man drew near her, and Elizabeth was shocked to see that it was the man from before, Mr Wickham!
"How do you do, sir?" she asked, as he carefully poured himself a cup of punch.
"I am very well, Miss Elizabeth. How are you enjoying the party?" he asked. Elizabeth responded, and they exchanged general pleasantries for a few minutes or so. Elizabeth smiled in genuine pleasure. If she had been the same person, she should have already been half in love with such a man. He was everything that was polite, charming, and witty. He had informed her that he was soon to join the regiment, and she was sure that his charms, while in uniform, would go very far.
"I wonder, Miss Elizabeth, if it is not too much trouble to ask-but how long has Mr. Darcy been in Netherfield?"
Elizabeth answered with some curiosity, wondering if he had some connection to Mr. Darcy or his family. She recalled that she had heard from Mrs. Goulding that his uncle was an earl."About six weeks or so, I believe. Why do you ask, Mr. Wickham?"
He regarded her with a curious intent, before searching around to see if anyone was watching or listening to them. When none were found, he answered her.
"It may shock you to know, Miss Elizabeth, but we were boyhood friends. My father was the steward of Pemberley, and his father, the old Mr. Darcy was my godfather."
Elizabeth frowned in confusion. "Then why had-" Even before he answered her, Elizabeth was not sure why she was confused. Mr. Darcy was proud and arrogant, disregarding his sometimes complementary behavior towards her. Speech, without actions to fortify the words were rather useless, a hard learned lesson she had comprehended very quickly.
"Mr. Darcy's father died some years ago, close to his majority. And old Mr. Darcy had been very fond of me, indeed he was my godfather and treated me like a second son. And Darcy had always been jealous, and that jealousy manifested in an unforgivable manner."
Mr. Wickham's voice lowered here, and became very raw.
"We had been estranged for several years, when I had heard that Uncle George-I beg your pardon-Darcy's father had been dying for several months, and I had begged and pleaded for Darcy to allow me to attend upon him at his deathbed, but Darcy refused. As if that were not enough, in further injury, his father had left for me the living that is currently vacant on his estate, Pemberley. I had always meant to join the Church, and had gone to university in preparation. Darcy refused, giving the living to another."
He took a sip of his punch, and laughed at Elizabeth's shocked expression.
"So I have had to make my own way in the world."
"How cruel!" Elizabeth could only say. Mr. Wickham gave her another bow, and said "It is not so terribly bad, Miss Elizabeth. I have prospects for a new career, I have food and water in my belly, a place to lay my head at night. I have been in worse situations before."
Elizabeth wondered at his abrupt change in manner,
"Were you not able to find any legal recourse, my uncle Phillips is a solicitor, perhaps he could-"
Mr. Wickham shook his head thoughtfully. "It is indeed a terrible situation, but it is best to forget about it. My love for his father's memory is the only thing that keeps me from any retaliation."
And with that, he excused himself to go and dance with a red headed girl she had noticed earlier, flitting among the officers-a Mary King-and Elizabeth was left to consider her conflicting thoughts alone, aware that she was again, thinking upon Mr. Darcy's fractured character.
