Elizabeth spun around to find Mary standing close behind her. She quickly dabbed away her tears with her sleeve and managed a faint smile for her sister.

"Lizzy, what is the matter?" Mary sat down on the log beside Elizabeth and was patient as she contemplated how to respond.

"I have made a terrible mistake and now I am afraid that someone I considered a friend will never forgive me."

Mary wrapped her arms around Elizabeth while she cried into her shoulder. "Everyone makes mistakes, Lizzy. Surely you could not have done anything so terrible, and you certainly are contrite. I am certain they will forgive you if you explain."

"I do not know if I shall ever have a chance to explain, Mary," said Elizabeth, pulling away from her sister. "I doubt that I shall see them again."

"Is it Mr. Bingley of whom you speak?" asked Mary.

"No." Elizabeth wiped her eyes on her sleeve again. She hoped her eyes would not look puffy and red.

"Then I do not understand," said her sister.

"I can tell you their name, but not what I have done, for it may harm another."

Mary agreed.

"It is Mr. Darcy. I did something, even when I knew I ought not to, and it harmed people he cares for."

"I see." Mary said no more, allowing a comforting silence to surround them.

"What shall I do? It is not as if I can write to him and apologise for my error. I cannot bear that he should — very rightly — think so poorly of me and my actions."

"You certainly cannot, nor can Ben or your father, given that they are the inferior and have not asked to establish a correspondence. Yet I beg you to consider if Mr. Darcy would truly hold you responsible for whatever occurred. I know a little of the matter. I think it would be impossible not to, given Mr. Collins and Lady Lucas telling everyone of Mr. Bingley's betrothal to Miss Darcy. I assume it has something to do with that business?"

Elizabeth confirmed that it did.

"I think, if his sister finds contentment in her marriage, that he shall forgive you for whatever role you have played. Mr. Bingley is not a man that would treat a wife poorly, I think," said Mary.

Elizabeth was slightly cheered by her sister's presence and words. Maybe Miss Darcy would be happy and it would all be for the best. She could only hope that, if she and Mr. Darcy did meet again, that he would not hold her in contempt.

Mary then helped her sister to tend to her appearance. They went to the water pump and filled a bucket so she could wash her face. Mary assisted her sister in fixing her hair, as their embrace and her walk from the Lucases had made it very blowsy. Her dress was wrinkled, which could not be fixed out-of-doors, but that was typical for Elizabeth after a visit and a long walk. By the time the two sisters joined the rest of their family for tea, no one was able to notice anything amiss with her appearance.

Mr. Hadley and Mr. Bennet were ensconced in the book room together, while Mrs. Bennet and Kitty sat at their needlework in the sitting room. Anna, the nine-year-old daughter of a tenant, was reading aloud to them. Every so often, Mrs. Bennet would assist her in decoding a word by breaking it down into syllables, but to Elizabeth's ears, the child read very well.

When Anna had finished the poem, Mary explained that when she had been visiting the parish school, she had observed that Anna read very well for her age and excelled even more in maths. She had mastered all of the arithmetic lessons they had at the parish school, and now the schoolmistress was sending to Hertford for more difficult work from a girl's seminary there.

"Mary had asked me if we might sponsor her attending the seminary in Hertford," said Mrs. Bennet. "While I trust Mary's word without question, I did wish to ensure that the child was not simply more familiar with that text, which made her appear to have a higher level of reading ability."

Anna had not spoken since she had finished reading, but she watched the exchange with eager anticipation.

"Since she has read this poem that I selected without too much difficulty and has solved all the equations I have put before her, I am quite convinced of her talent," Mrs. Bennet continued. She turned to Anna. "Pray, tell your mother that I should like to invite her here for tea tomorrow or the next day. We can speak more then."

Anna expressed her gratitude to Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Hadley before departing, her face beaming with pride. Mrs. Bennet poured tea for Elizabeth and Mary, while Mary spoke of several other parish issues that her mother might assist her with if she pleased.

"If I may bring something up," said Mrs. Bennet, "have you thought about what to do about Mr. Collins?"

"Mr. Collins?" came Mr. Hadley's voice from nearby. He had left Mr. Bennet to his accounting books so he might join his wife and in-laws in conversation.

"Yes, Mr. Collins. He is a terrible gossip. I do not know if what he says is true or not, but he is spreading terrible rumours about a young lady. Mrs. Phillips was full of the news this morning — for she is not much better than he is — but he is the one who brought the news to the area. Between those two and Lady Lucas, there is a terrible problem with gossip in this neighbourhood. It is dreadful, particularly when the gossip is so harmful to others and can have no benevolent purpose."

"I do not know what I could do about the matter besides speak to them," said Mr. Hadley. "I might work something about not gossiping into my next sermon as well."

"That would be something, at least," said Mrs. Bennet with a sigh.

When Elizabeth looked at Mrs Bennet's face, she noticed that her eyes were surrounded by dark circles and her mouth had a distinct tension that was not usually present. She wondered if her mother was also troubled by the consequences that their warning the area had for the Darcys. Some part of her, a part she was not proud of, was glad that her mother was feeling dreadful as well.


Elizabeth was glad for the distractions that the next several weeks brought, as they distracted her from her concerns. The most welcome of these distractions came in the form of her eldest sister, Jane — now Lady Wallingford. Her husband and his sister were very welcome as well, of course, as were the Gardiners and Blackwalls. Longbourn was vibrant with the sound of family laughter and conversation. Babies were passed around between family members, particularly their Aunt and Uncle Blackwall's youngest daughter, Naomi, who was only two months old.

"She is so small," exclaimed Elizabeth as she held the sleeping child.

"Aye, she was our smallest, I think," said Mrs. Blackwall. "Most of Hank's gowns were too big for her at first. She is just now getting to be the size he was when he was born."

"Oh! What do I do?" exclaimed Elizabeth as Naomi's arms came free from her blankets and flailed about. In a second, the infant awoke herself with her own movements, and she began to cry, her little voice sounding through the room.

The child's mother took her daughter back and cradled her in her arms while she soothed her with a gentle, bouncing motion. When the crying ceased, she laid the child down on the settee and folded the blankets around her again. The process of wrapping up the baby looked very complex to Elizabeth, but her aunt assured her that it became second nature. "You just have to ensure you wrap them up firmly, so their arms cannot escape. I think with her being passed around, the blankets became loose. I will teach you how to do it, if you would like. Then you will be prepared once you are wed."

"Will you show me?" asked Lady Wallingford timidly.

"Of course, my dear," said Mrs. Blackwall. "But not at the moment. Naomi is not settled just now and I don't wish to distress her. I will have someone fetch you when next she needs to be wrapped up."

Elizabeth looked curiously at her elder sister. "Jane?"

Her elder sister gave Elizabeth a look that said she did not wish to speak of the topic just then. Later, when they were alone, Jane confessed that she believed herself to be expecting, but could not be certain until she felt the baby quicken.

"Have you any idea as to when?" asked Elizabeth.

"No. You know how my courses have always been irregular. I would never had known if I did not have other indications. It has been six months since my last courses, but neither I nor the midwife think I am that far along."

"What happy news! I do hope it is true!" exclaimed Elizabeth before Jane hushed her.

"You must not tell anyone else. If it is still early days, there is still a danger that it might not come to anything," cautioned Jane.

Elizabeth swore that she would not speak a word of it until Jane or Chris gave her leave to do so.

"Will you tell Chris's father?" asked Elizabeth.

Jane sighed. "I do not know. Chris is of two minds. I think he misses his father and brothers, but he is still angry that his sister was cast off in such a manner. I do not know if he will ever forgive his father for that. I think his father will try to contact him if it turns out that the babe is a boy, but I do not know if Chris and Martha will allow it."

Elizabeth felt a pang of regret, for Chris's sister, Martha, had faced a very similar situation as the one Miss Darcy did now. She had been offered a marriage to save her reputation, but it would have been a marriage with the man who had mistreated her in the first place. She refused, and because she was of age, he could not force her to wed. However, he also did not have to support her. Since then, Martha had lived happily with her brother, and now with both him and Jane. Thankfully, the breach in the family was the only lasting consequence besides Martha's broken heart.

"You seem thoughtful," said Jane, breaking Elizabeth's reverie.

"I am. I was just thinking of how fortunate Martha was to have a brother like Chris." Elizabeth made herself smile at her sister, who was not fooled by it.

"Are you in some sort of trouble, Lizzy?" asked Jane softly.

"Oh, no. Do not think that!" exclaimed Elizabeth. She was horrified that her sister would think such a thing of her. "It is not that at all. I was just thinking of how many girls do not have such good brothers and what happens to them."

"Ah," said Jane, relieved. "Yes, it is dreadful. I can only hope that one day, people will have more empathy for young women who have made poor choices or have been mistreated, instead of heaping blame on them. We give money to a charity that sees to unwed mothers' and their babies' needs, but there is never enough help."

"I would like to help you, if there is anything I can do," said Elizabeth.

Jane thought for a few moments. "I do not think it is wise for you to go to the charity to volunteer. As a young lady yourself, it could harm your reputation if you were seen there. However, we are always in need of clothing for the infants and mothers. If you could make some for them, or help to fundraise in other ways, that would be acceptable."

Elizabeth agreed immediately. There might not be anything she could do to reverse the harm to Miss Darcy, but she could assist other ladies who found themselves in similar circumstances — without the assistance of a kind brother and a large dowry to restore them to respectability.