The next fortnight provided a great deal of learning amongst the Bennets, Darcys and Fitzwilliams.
Mary learned that her early edition of Fordyce's Sermons in good condition was worth almost a pound, and when Mrs Annesley told her that she had probably learned all she was likely to from the man (while muttering 'if anything'), Mary ignored the latter part and traded in her books for a rather larger set of better tomes. Mr Bennet participated by helping her select works that she might enjoy that he did not already have in his library, while mostly resisting the temptation to encourage her toward books he might like himself.
Kitty learned that she had a bit of talent for drawing, and without Lydia telling her otherwise, she had some chance to improve. She had yet to learn why she might wish to do so, and the less said about in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading, the better—but she was learning. Mr Bennet was giving that subject his best effort, and though he felt more like Sisyphus than Socrates, he was astute enough to realize that a month of effort would not rectify fifteen years of neglect.
Lydia learned that Mrs Annesley was even more stubborn than her mother, who could barely top Lizzy, who in turn could easily best a mule. She also learned that having her ear yanked or knuckles smacked had very little to recommend them. Incidentally, she did start learning a little bit about some of the subjects that had been ignored for most of her life, but it seemed much more like the beginning of a long slog than the middle or end.
Mrs Bennet learned, much to her chagrin, that the only way Bennet daughters became engaged was away from her. Based on some subtle hints from Mrs Annesley and her husband, she thought there just might be some connection between her absence and matrimonial success, though she was unable to work out exactly what it was. She just hoped she could somehow get Lydia out of the schoolroom and the other three engaged without any more attempted murders.
Georgiana learned that country assemblies could be quite enjoyable, even for a girl who was not actually 'out'. She also, learned how to dodge clodhopping men who could not dance, a skill Mary assured her was essential. She also learned it was acceptable to omit some minor details about her activities when she wrote her guardians.
As to the two eldest, they got a good lesson in the very good reasons why kissing and related activities were denied to maidens—along with an incomplete but improving understanding of the even bigger dangers of going beyond that first step. They were not precisely experts in the pleasures and dangers of such activities, but they were at least diligent students.
Regarding the dangers of going too far, one sister depended on her honour, her good sense, the honour of her intended, and the understanding that their engagement was not to be of a long duration and could be ended any day they chose by walking up the steps to Hunsford.
Such admirable qualities might not have been quite so effective with the second sister, who was, admittedly, not quite so disciplined; but she could always rely on the fact that most of the subsequent stages in marital relations were likely to hurt like the devil.
Naturally, that made her reflect that her ladylike language was going the way of her ladylike manners and ladylike temperance. She was ambiguous about whether she regretted the loss. Her future husband found it amusing, so she reckoned that so long as she could reacquire her manners soon enough to teach them to her children or go into society, she would count it a success.
On the temperance front, she could not say if the prohibition of strong spirits for ladies was protectiveness on the part of the male sex—or more likely selfishness. She thought she might need guidance from someone with the requisite knowledge, but obviously not from a member of the culprit sex, so she naturally introduced Jane to the benefits of brandy (with mixed results).
All that aside, Elizabeth found that each day seemed better than the previous. Her average sobriety increased while her pain decreased. Her leg gradually started making fewer of the very odd noises the medical men named bony crepitus (which she assumed they made up), not to mention hurting slightly less, while her confidence that things might eventually work out increased.
And of course, she found that as her fears of being imprudently smitten receded, the feelings of love and affection could only increase. As her ignorance of Darcy decreased, her admiration increased. As her appreciation of his admirable qualities swelled, her disapproval of certain aspects of his character not only shrank but went in the other direction to the point where his taciturnity seemed his best feature.
Similarly, as the distance from her family increased, her anger at them decreased, and considered what she had threatened her father with, she was quite happy to feel a resurgence of love for her family without all the inconvenience of dying. Her approbation had its limits, and it was provisional, but she felt good about the progress to date.
All in all, she thought the world was coming into a much better balance. She was still at least a fortnight from losing the splints, but she was at least confident that she eventually would. She was probably still a month from leaving the cabin, but she was not entirely certain she would be any better off anywhere else.
Both ladies might have been considered smug by a partial observer, but they knew better.
Darcy and Fitzwilliam during that time also found that their prior pretensions and ideas of love had been rather vague and mostly wrong. After experiencing actual love, they both judged their previous thoughts as ill-informed, and mostly selfish.
The colonel had not been raised to think of romantic love as even a requirement for a good life, and had he not been struck by Cupid's arrow, he probably would have gone along believing it a myth. He may well have even married an acceptably accomplished heiress and been as content as Mrs Collins.
Being exposed to Jane Bennet changed everything, and that same fortnight found him learning so much about himself, his lady, their love, and more importantly, what they still had to learn together—that he considered his incarnation of a month earlier to be little better than a heathen savage. Naturally, much like Lizzy, he wondered if his own vocabulary was degrading, but he found himself far less concerned about it.
Darcy had been enduring the dark side of love for the best part of five months, so when his Elizabeth finally granted her affections, it felt like he had been burned to the ground and rebuilt in an instant like a phoenix. He suddenly felt far freer than he had in his life, and for the first time he could remember, he thought far more about his and her feelings than about duty, family, honour, or any of the other factors that had ruled him.
Every day since he had been granted the right and privilege to love unreservedly, he could see his lady's love gradually making a valiant effort to catch up with his head start, so he naturally chased ahead, metaphorically daring her to catch him.
To be honest, both men were a bit insufferable, but their ladies loved them for it.
Despite all the changes occurring in and around the cabin, which included a deepening friendship among the four friends that would strengthen into unbreakable bonds over the years, there was still duty to be done.
While Darcy had originally taken care of everything outside the cabin, and still had to handle things that required his experience—the fact remained that his cousin was a colonel in the army who earned his rank the hard way. He was no slouch, and they started dividing up the duties as much as possible.
The colonel would soon be a property owner, so it also became obvious he would need to knuckle down and learn to do it properly, particularly since he was coming into a somewhat neglected estate. Fortunately, on his worst day he was a better student than Bingley on his best, so an hour or two of concentrated instruction a few times a week sufficed.
The earl, who after his disastrous introduction to the Bennets seemed to remember either his manners, his self-interest, or both, paid off every arrear of civility to Elizabeth.
He brought the estate books for his son and Darcy to pour over, which they did in detail. In this matter, the cousins were as unmatched as they were in horse races, though in the opposite directions. The books left the professional cavalryman confused, and made the gentleman want to curse or throw something at how much better he could have run the place.
Naturally, he solved the conundrum by doing neither. Instead opted for kissing his intended, which was probably for the best.
Alas, others must intrude.
The earl had taken on the disagreeable task of dealing with Lady Catherine, although whether that was a penance or simply trying to keep Darcy from killing her was open to speculation.
He appeared one day for lunch and joined the group inside the cabin.
Jane had mostly forgiven him, reasoning that if he was to be her father-in-law and living less than twenty miles away, it might be best to get along. She did find it odd that she had to consciously extend the forgiveness and work to maintain it, while it had all been effortless and natural before the Netherfield party came to Meryton. She sighed at how sheltered and naïve she had been back then.
Elizabeth was not entirely certain the altercation matched her memories, since it was hard to imagine a duel over insults no worse than her own intended had thrown at that first assembly. Fortunately, she saw little value in dredging up the old animosity, so for the first time in her life, she found herself more forgiving than Jane. She was aware that part of that was the feeling of having a solid and reliable man standing by her side for the first time, but if that was what it took, she was sanguine.
The earl took to their simple fare as if he had stew and bread every day of the week, and nobody really commented on it. He perked up when Cecil delivered a pie, but when he idly wondered if the parsonage cook could be lured away, he learned that there were other things that could rile up his nephew.
They finally got down to business.
"I hate to be the bearer of uncomfortable tidings, but better me than Darcy, eh?"
Everyone chuckled slightly, most suspecting that if he carried any truly distressing news, Darcy would already be working on it.
"The inquest is scheduled in a month, mostly so you can appear, Miss Elizabeth… though you will obviously be Mrs Darcy by then. Those who have read the investigation believe you will have a good claim against the de Bourgh estate, and if you want it, perhaps an even chance of having her convicted posthumously."
"You doubt whether I want it? If it can be done, why would I demur?" Elizabeth asked curiously, though with less heat than anybody expected. The burning rage of her initial conversations with the colonel had reduced to a smouldering fire, and she was not certain whether that was good or not. Was she feeling pragmatism, cowardice, or the dreaded indolence?
"A few reasons. My son has relayed what you said in the immediate aftermath about vengeance or justice, and I concur with your sentiments. I suspect if I had been in your place I would have men burning Rosings to the ground by now."
"Punishing Rosings tenants for Miss de Bourge's actions hardly seems appropriate."
He chuckled. "You make a good point. Shall I explain or let Darcy do so."
"Why not me, sir," the colonel asked with a pout.
Everyone laughed at his antics, but nobody took him seriously. Who would want the colonel to explain legal matters when Darcy was available?
Darcy nodded to the earl to continue.
"All right, why might you or might you not try to have her convicted. You might want to have her tried in absentia, because it would give you first claim to her estate. Rosings is valuable, but there are a hundred ways it could be made less than it should be. Darcy has spent a week or two each year looking over the books, but he does it as a courtesy more than anything else. He does not do the type of deep review that would be necessary to find out of Catherine or Anne were foolish with their cash reserves. When the will is resolved, if you can get a conviction, you would not necessarily be in the front of the line for funds, but you would be ahead of others."
"Who could be in front of me?"
"As a hypothetical, let us suppose she mortgaged something to build a new folly or new garden. If the lender had good connexions, and wrote the mortgage carefully, he would get repaid ahead of you. On the other hand, if Darcy had been foolish enough to lend her money out of the goodness of his heart, you would probably beat him out."
"Seems easier to just marry him and take up both positions," she said to everyone's amusement.
"I favour that plan," Deadpan Darcy replied without inflexion.
The Earl continued, "Depending on what we see in the will, you might do better to just threaten the action. Let us say the new owner is a de Bourgh. They will want to resolve things expeditiously rather than have the estate tied up for months or years in the courts, not to mention the shame of having a convicted criminal in their family instead of a reputed one. They might be willing to trade a quick surrender on your monetary claims for an agreement to let it be done."
"How would that work?"
"Let us say you want Anne's dowry and say another £20,000 from the estate. It might be more expedient for them to just let that money go than to spend it all on barristers, since there's always the chance the court will get annoyed and award even more money. You see, it is all about probabilities and outcomes, like a card game. We all got our hands. The inquest will deal more cards, and the will more yet. At that point, you want to know your hand and theirs, and then you will know how to play. Until then, you want your cards close to the vest."
Elizabeth nodded, and finally said, "I no longer think it imperative for the de Bourgh name to be dragged through the mud, though I still prefer it. That said, If I end up with reasonable health, and a moderately acceptable husband, I might just take the money and get on with my life."
Deadpan Darcy said, "I strive for moderation in all things, my lady, and I do believe I can modestly assert that my success is… moderate."
They all had a good laugh at that, took another round of coffee, and moved on to the next topic.
"The other subject is Anne's will. It seems she did have a solicitor nobody knew about, and he has what he claims is her last will and testament. Since it is tricky, he has asked the ecclesiastical court to rule on it before execution, and in fact, he wants them to rule before he even makes it public. This is a big enough spectacle that they have agreed. They expect the will to be read in a month."
"Who runs Rosings in the meantime?"
"Status quo. Catherine is prevented from doing anything too absurd by the threat of legal action from the eventual heir. She has done a great deal of bad management over the last decade, but all that got swept under when Anne inherited. She may have violated her caretaker duties, but if so, Anne would have had to challenge her after her majority. She never did, so any compensation for past errors is probably too late. She is, however, on much shakier ground since Anne's death, since any authority she has is only courtesy at the moment."
"Will she be ejected?" Elizabeth asked emphatically.
"We will learn at the reading of the will. It is possible she worked out a clever way around Sir Lewis' intentions and made herself the heir, but very unlikely. More likely she just thinks she has done so, because she always thought herself cleverer than she is."
"My experience is that stupid people frequently think they know more than they do, while smart people realize how much they do not know," the colonel added, which seemed like food for thought.
Elizabeth thought about it for a bit. "I suppose we shall see. If she is humiliated and disposed, and I get Anne's dowry, I might consider myself satisfied or I might not. I would like to give my own sisters dowries from Anne's, presuming William is moderately solvent."
She looked challengingly at him, and all she could tell from his expression was that he was far more interested in bringing the discussion to a close so he could kiss her again than he was in teasing his uncle more.
She heartily approved and worked to make it so.