So someone mentioned in reviews that Elizabeth doesn't have a brother, only three sisters, so they were confused.
Back in Regency times, when you married someone, your siblings became theirs and theirs became yours. Rarely would they call their brother-in-law as such. It was much more typical to just call them your brother. We see this several times in Jane Austen's works, including Pride and Prejudice. It was even illegal to marry your brother-in-law or sister-in-law if your spouse died, as it would have been seen the same as marrying your sister or brother.
Examples:
After Wickham marries Lydia, he addresses Elizabeth as "my dear sister" and Elizabeth later says, "Come, Mr. Wickham, we are brother and sister, you know."
Lady Catherine asks Elizabeth,"And is such a girl to be my nephew's sister? Is her husband, is the son of his late father's steward, to be his brother?"
After becoming engaged, Elizabeth asks, "But are you pleased, Jane? Shall you like to have such a brother?"
I will not bore you with more examples, but just thought I would explain.
Elizabeth and Kitty stayed did not come down to breakfast the next morning until they heard the sounds of their parents' voices below stairs. Thankfully, when they arrived in the breakfast room, they found that Mr. Collins was not present.
"I believe he keeps town hours," explained Mr. Bennet.
Elizabeth found this curious, considering that he was a country parson of moderate income. He could not be too much in town.
"No doubt Lady Catherine de Bourgh keeps town hours and it would not do to not be at her beck and call," said her father, having corrected interpreted his daughter's look.
Elizabeth and Kitty were thankful that Mr. Collins was not there to bother them, regardless of the reason. They ate quickly, hoping that the sounds of the house would not arouse the silly man earlier than his usual wont. To escape the man's company even further, they decided that they ought to attend to the tenants whom they had not visited while they were at Netherfield and declared their intentions to their parents.
"You do not need to," said Mrs. Bennet. "I called on the Lincolns and the St. Clares while you were at Netherfield. Reggie is recovered from his cold and Lily is no longer teething."
"We will call on the Sommers then, and perhaps the Erringtons."
"Very well," said Mrs. Bennet. "If you plan to go all the way to the Erringtons', you might go to Meryton and see your sister. I wish to invite them to dine tomorrow evening. It would be pleasant to have more company, for obvious reasons."
"Mother!" cried Kitty. "That is one of the most ungenerous things I have ever heard you say."
"I did not say what the obvious reasons were. I wish to see dear Mary. Is that not reason enough?"
"Of course," said Elizabeth with a sly smile. "That is certainly your reason."
"Very well," said Kitty. "I am sorry for assuming the worst of you. We will go to Mary and Ben and invite them."
The two sisters were off to visit the tenants within a half-hour. Although they could not know of their good timing, they missed Mr. Collins' company by only minutes. The clatter of a servant dropping a tray outside his room had abruptly woken him from his slumber. He angrily bellowed at the servant for being stupid and clumsy. His loud displeasure reverberated through the house, but by then the Bennet daughters had already put a hundred yards between them and Longbourn. He was most disappointed to not break his fast with the lady he already considered to be his intended. This was met with much milder words, as he was speaking to those of his came class. A gentleperson was not to be addressed in the same way as an ignorant footman. Further, the news that the daughters were off visiting tenants was welcome. He needed a wife not brought up too high and who could assist in tending to his flock. That Mr. Bennet expected his daughters to assist in such matters spoke well of his chances of future felicity.
Elizabeth and Kitty left the parsonage, and as they turned towards the main street of Meryton, they were met with the bright, colourful window displays of the shops. Both sisters had some coins, but neither was eager to part with it. If the window of a shop didn't offer a stunning bonnet or a fashionable new muslin, it was unlikely to draw them in, and it would take an even greater enticement to get them to buy something. Even so, there was Mr. Bingley's promised ball to think of, and both sisters enjoyed thinking of how they might make over their gowns for that event. Perhaps their parents might give a few shillings extra to be spent on ribbons and lace if they asked. There was a beautiful purple and blue striped ribbon that looked well with Kitty's sapphire eyes. Elizabeth thought that if her parents would not buy it for her sister, she would make a present of it.
Upon coming out of the milliner's without having made any purchases, the two sisters saw an acquaintance of theirs. It was Mr. Denny, whom they had been briefly introduced to at Lucas Lodge, an officer in the militia stationed in Meryton. They had intended to only exchange greetings before continuing on their way. This was prevented by Mr. Denny asking the privilege of introducing a friend to the Bennets. They agreed.
The stranger was called Mr. Wickham. He had returned with Mr. Denny only the previous day from town and had accepted a commission in their corps. This was all for the good as the gentleman was very handsome, needing only a uniform to make his charming appearance complete. The introduction was followed up on his side by a happy readiness of conversation—a readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming. They were engaged in pleasant conversation when the unmistakable sound of horses drew their attention. Upon looking toward the source of the sound, they spotted Bingley and Darcy riding towards them.
On distinguishing the ladies of the group, the two gentlemen came directly towards them and began the usual civilities. Before spotting them in Meryton, the gentlemen had been on their way to Longbourn to ask after Miss Kitty's health. Mr. Bingley expressed his delight at seeing them both looking so well. Mr. Darcy corroborated this with a bow and a murmured agreement. Mr. Bingley tried to draw Elizabeth into conversation apart from the others, even dismounting from his horse, so he might walk with them. Mr. Darcy did the same, but upon doing so, he saw the faces of the stranger. Elizabeth happened to see the countenance of both and felt a palpable tension in the air as the men's eyes locked. Mr. Darcy's face reddened and his eyes burned with ire as his mouth settled into a straight line. Mr Wickham's eyes widened in fear and his face drained of colour.
After a few moments, Mr. Wickham recovered himself enough to greet Mr. Darcy warmly, holding out his hand for Mr. Darcy to shake. Darcy pretended not to see and asked Elizabeth if he and Bingley might escort her and her sister home.
Now very curious and hoping for some enlightenment, Elizabeth agreed. She and her sister curtsied goodbye to the two other men and went on their way with Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley. Despite Mr. Bingley's efforts to the contrary, Mr. Darcy retained Elizabeth's company for the walk. They allowed Kitty and Bingley to outpace them by some distance before Mr. Darcy dared to address what Elizabeth had just witnessed.
"You are undoubtedly curious about my relationship with Mr. Wickham," he said without emotion.
"Of course. You cut him quite publicly."
"I perhaps ought not to have done that. He is not a man who takes embarrassment with any dignity."
"It cannot be taken back."
"No, it cannot, but I could not make myself shake his hand. He is a scoundrel."
Elizabeth hoped Darcy would say more, but he did not. "What has he done?" she asked.
"I cannot tell you all. Much of it is not fit for a lady's ears. I will tell you that he cheats at cards, leaves debt wherever he goes, and slanders my name constantly. He was the son of my father's steward and my father's godson. He bitterly resents me for my position in society in relation to his."
Elizabeth looked with sympathy at Mr. Darcy, wondering how he had been injured by his father's godson. How quickly her opinion of Mr. Darcy had changed! His apology now made her certain that whatever had happened between the two men, Mr. Darcy was the one in the right. If the provocation was not very great, she could not imagine Mr. Darcy cutting someone as he had.
"We should warn the merchants and the local gentry," said Elizabeth.
"I dare not."
"Your cut will arouse some suspicion. Why will you not give warning? Meryton is small and some of the merchants cannot afford for more than a few pounds to go unpaid for long."
"If such is the case, they should not offer credit to any of the officers. I doubt Wickham is the only man not to be trusted in the corps — both with credit and with women." Mr. Darcy stared ahead, as if he was looking at something besides the road and the backs of Bingley and Kitty.
"Yes, but certainly there must be an increased level of caution when one is dealing with a known scoundrel compared to a stranger who is simply unknown," reasoned Elizabeth.
"I cannot warn people. Already I have endangered someone I care for, as Wickham might seek revenge for the cut. It is a matter of a lady's reputation," said Darcy.
"I understand," said Elizabeth.
She felt a small pang, wondering who Mr. Wickham had hurt that Mr. Darcy had cared for so much. It might be a relation or friend, or even a romantic interest. His tone and actions prevented her from thinking it was someone more distant. As she looked out of the corner of her eye at Mr Darcy, she settled on the last possibility. There was a deep hurt in Mr. Darcy's eyes, something beyond that which the seduction of a cousin or friend would produce. This thought twisted Elizabeth's heart, although she did not know why. She was not at all connected to the lady in question, nor was she especially closely acquainted with Mr. Darcy.
Darcy looked around the small parlour, not seeing the only person he cared about speaking with that evening. He did not see her sister or parents either, so he sat down on a settee and accepted a glass of wine from Mrs. Phillips. That lady began to prattle on about the officers who were to attend that evening. Darcy grimaced. He hoped that Wickham would not be present.
"Is the wine bad?" asked Mrs. Phillips. "Oh dear. We just drank a bottle from the same barrel a few nights ago and it was very good." She then went on to offer him several other kinds of wine and other beverages.
"There is nothing wrong with the wine, Madam," said Darcy in a tone that sounded harsher than he intended. "I simply had a passing unpleasant memory."
Mrs. Phillips's face contorted into a frown as she considered him, trying to discern if she had done something wrong. Darcy smiled in reassurance and asked Mrs. Phillips if she had always lived in Hertfordshire.
"Indeed! Why, did you not know that my dear Mr. Phillips took over my father's business?" Mrs. Phillips responded before relating a great deal of unnecessary information about both her husband and everyone else in town.
"Kitty! Lizzy!" cried one of the Miss Lucases from nearby. Darcy looked up to see that the Bennets had arrived and were being led into the room by their friend. The child looked too young to be out, but he supposed that a card party was not the same as a ball.
Following the Bennets was a stout man of perhaps five-and-twenty who wore the clothes of a parson. His stature was almost identical to Darcy's, yet it was difficult to tell because of his round figure and pompous air, thus rendering his height the least noticeable aspect. It was necessary to introduce the newcomer to the majority of those present.
"Mr. Darcy? Mr. Darcy? The nephew of the Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh?" asked Mr. Collins upon being introduced to him.
Darcy sighed. Why did his aunt so enjoy being surrounded by such fools? He now recalled that old Mr. Benson had died and his aunt had granted the living to someone else recently. "Indeed. I am her nephew," he replied, albeit reluctantly.
Mr. Collins replied at great length, telling Mr. Darcy that Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh were both well as of the previous day and declaring how wonderful it was that these sorts of things should occur! He detailed every condescension that Lady Catherine had bestowed upon him, from advising him to put shelves in the closets to inviting him to dine twice.
Elizabeth could only watch in horror as she watched her cousin expose himself as a fool. Mr. Darcy was eyeing him with unrestrained wonder. When at last Mr. Collins allowed him time to speak, replied with an air of distant civility,
"I am sure my aunt judged rightly in bestowing the living on one who can see to her needs so well. She is a lady of discernment, to be sure."
Mr. Collins took this cool reply as a compliment to himself, replying with a speech even longer than the first. Mr. Darcy's countenance seemed to darken with every word that Mr. Collins spoke so when the monologue was completed, he only made him a slight bow, and moved another way.
Mr. Collins then returned to Elizabeth, as she had feared he would, and began to express his delight in the other gentleman. She could only hope that Mr. Darcy did not renew his poor opinion of her family based on the actions of her cousin.
Elizabeth did not have time to ponder this possibility long, however, for Mr. Bingley was also present at the gathering and would not be kept from her side long. A choice between her two ardent suitors was not difficult, for Mr. Bingley was well-mannered and less verbose. She allowed herself to be led away to play whist.
After a while, it became evident to Mr. Darcy that no more guests were going to arrive that evening. Mr. Wickham was not among the officers in attendance, much to his relief. He did not know how they would bear being in the same town for much longer, much less the same room.
Relaxing slightly, Mr. Darcy allowed Sir William to draw him into conversation. While he did so, he watched Elizabeth and Mr. Bingley out of the corner of his eye, trying to discern any partiality for his friend on her side. He knew himself not an impartial judge, so he could not act upon his own discernment, but he thought his friend might feel more than she did. He would have to attempt to learn her true feelings over the next weeks, if he could last that long in this place.
