Author's note:
This chapter heralds the inevitable and upcoming identity crisis of the protagonist.
Bear in mind that the main themes of the story revolve around grappling with (ir)reality, destiny, identity, emptiness, and loss. The protagonist needs to unravel herself, and to understand what she wants, before the story, i.e., the romance, unfolds.
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Chapter Fifteen: Trouble at Paradise
Elizabeth woke up to another blissful morning at Longbourn – or so she thought. She got out of the bed to open the windows, basking in the first rays of sunlight, inhaling in the fresh country air, and listening to the sound of the domesticated animals in the estate and the household staff who were preoccupied with different chores.
Her thoughts darted to how her father comforted her last night while she cried in his arms. She could not help smiling fondly at the memory. She truly was grateful to be a member of this loving family. She closed her eyes in silent prayer, grateful to whatever force brought her to this world and allowed her to experience family love after years of solitude and longing.
She could feel her excitement welling up as she thought about all the conversations and activities, she would engage in with her sisters later during the day. Her gaze flickered to Jane who was sleeping peacefully on their shared bed, and she smiled instinctively. Her eyes then darted to the book she borrowed from her father last night and her excitement withered away.
As much as she tried to force it upon herself last night, she could not bring herself to appreciate it. She was never truly a fan of poetry. She remembered vaguely studying Romeo and Juliet and the 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day' sonnet when she was attending a public high school in New York. She remembered not paying any particular attention then.
Last night however, she tried to coerce herself to enjoying reading the poems, but to no avail. All her endeavors proved unsuccessful, and the book looks even heavier compared to last night. She also remembered how Mr. Collins will be present at the breakfast table babbling about his Lady WhoCares, and she shuddered at the thought. Her fawning, pompous cousin was unbearable.
Suddenly, she smiled in mischief, as a brilliant idea came up to her. Lydia told her that -before the fall- Elizabeth used to sneak to a spot somewhere on Oakham Mount to enjoy moments of serenity as she read her favorite books. If she would sneak in there, her family would find that consistent with her personality, and she would not face any trouble. Maybe she will take with her Diderot's book, as she truly longed to read it. Lydia described to her how to get there.
Elizabeth lay on the grass holding her book open and read on. 'Qu'est-ce autre chose, disait-il, s'il n'y a point de liberté, et que notre destinée soit écrite là-haut ?'
'Je l'ai plusieurs fois contredit, mais sans avantage et sans fruit. En effet, que répliquer à celui qui vous dit : Quelle que soit la somme des éléments dont je suis composé, je suis un ; or, une cause n'a qu'un effet ; j'ai toujours été une cause une ; je n'ai donc jamais eu qu'un effet à produire ; ma durée n'est donc qu'une suite d'effets nécessaires.'
('What else is it, he said, if freedom does not exist, and our destiny is scripted up above?'
'I have contradicted him several times, but to no avail and in vain. Indeed, what can be said in reply to someone who says to you: Whatever the sum of the elements of which I am composed, I am one; yet, a cause has only one effect; I have always been a single cause; I have thus never had only one effect to produce; my duration is thus only a series of necessary effects.')
She stopped to think about these phrases. Diderot here, is ironically stating through his characters that that there is no freedom and that our destiny is predetermined. She smiled. She had always been a staunch believer in the idea of self-determinism; she believed that humans carve and determine their own destiny. However, looking back at her current situation, the irony seemed to fade away.
It was destiny indeed that thrust her to the early years of 19th century England. She was gradually starting to consider that probably life unfolds as a series of necessary, inevitable events. She pondered upon the second part of the passage: 'I have always been a single cause.'
She was immersed in deep thoughts. Does this imply that identity is fixed and defined by an unbroken chain of causes and effects? Doesn't this reduce human existence to a mechanistic process where choices are illusion, where our actions are preordained instead of being the product of free will? If the essence of a person is fixed, then their path through life must also be fixed, with no room for deviation or choice. Are we merely players following a script written by forces beyond our control?
If so, what was she doing in this era? Does she have a role to play? Was there a cause that dictated her fate and imposed her presence? Did she choose loving the Bennet family, or was it destiny that imposed on her these feelings?
She felt her head dizzying. She longed to have a drink to better discern her thoughts. However, she was not much of a drinker – well, not in this life at least. As she felt her thoughts tangling more and more into confusion, she heard some rustling in the bushes and she saw the preen and pontificate silhouette of Mr. Collins emerging, offering a low bow upon seeing her.
"Miss Elizabeth, I thought I would find you here."
"How?" She was still in shock to be able to say anything else.
"Well, I talked with Mrs. Bennet, about having a word with you, alone. Miss Lydia told me that I would find you here."
Elizabeth cursed under her breath. Why would Lydia point this pompous man in her direction? Wait, having a word alone?
Noticing her silence, Mr. Collins cleared his throat, and continued. "Miss Elizabeth, I hope that you would grant me the great honor of accepting my hand in marriage."
Elizabeth felt her chest tightening as the world seemed to close in, the weight of the moment pressing down like an invisible vice. Did her mother consent to this? Her heart pounded violently, each beat reverberating in her ears, a relentless drum of panic.
The oblivious Mr. Collins continued. "As you know Miss Elizabeth, it is my duty to select a wife, and Lady Catherine herself has advised me on the importance of such an endeavor. Knowing that I will inherit this estate, it seemed only right that I should seek to marry within the family, thereby securing your future comfort as well as that of your mother and sisters. Since a very young age, I have always noticed your charm and beauty Miss Elizabeth. I can assure you that I have no qualms about your lack of fortune, or even about your head injury. I have already spoken to your mother about my intention, and she gave me her blessing. I can only now hope that you recognize the generosity of my offer, and consent to be my wife."
Elizabeth felt the cold sweat breaking out along her brow as her hands trembled uncontrollably. She closed her eyes, one sentence ringing in her ears, 'Your mother gave me her blessing', and she felt a hollow, sickening dread twisting deep in a stomach. Would her family force her into a marriage of convenience? Is that what destiny had in store for her?
Suddenly, her dread was replaced by a surging anger that overwhelmed her. She will not succumb to such paltry considerations. She will not bow to anyone, even to destiny. She rose from her seating position and she looked at Mr. Collins coldly, contemplating his cold and calculating offer.
She took a steadying breath, willing herself to remain calm. "Mr. Collins," she began, her voice firm, "I must thank you for your offer, but I must decline."
Mr. Collins blinked, momentarily thrown off by her words. "Decline?" he repeated, as though the very concept was foreign to him. "But, Miss Elizabeth, surely you do not understand the magnitude of what I am offering."
"I understand perfectly," Elizabeth said, her tone sharper now. "And it is for that very reason that I must refuse. I cannot marry a man I do not love."
Mr. Collins' face flushed with indignation. "But Miss Elizabeth, love is not a requirement for marriage! Lady Catherine herself has assured me of this. It is duty, obligation, and the security I offer you. Surely, you see the wisdom in accepting my proposal."
Elizabeth stood, her patience wearing thin. "Mr. Collins, I am sorry, but my answer remains the same. I will not marry you."
"I see. Your head injury must be indeed far more alarming than what I have expected. I may say that you will live to regret this decision. Opportunities, such as the one I graciously offered, do not present themselves often." With a stiff bow, Mr. Collins turned on his heel and left her standing stubbornly.
The confrontation that followed was inevitable; her first fight with the mother she came to cherish deeply loomed ahead. Mr. Collins had already preceded her to the house, and undoubtedly, he broke the news to her family.
As she entered the house, Mrs. Bennet came rushing in. "Lizzy, what have you done? How could you reject Mr. Collins? Do you not understand the implications of your actions?"
"Mother, I am deeply sorry. But I could never marry him. I do not love him. And I wish to stay with you, to live at Longbourn with you." She stood her ground, hoping that Mrs. Bennet sees reason.
"Oh, what Longbourn child? That is precisely why you should have married Mr. Collins. If that is truly your wish, then you should have married the man who would inherit it!"
For a moment, Elizabeth's resolve wavered. She could see genuine fear in her mother's eyes. But she could not – would not – tangle her fate to Mr. Collins in this way. "Is that so Mrs. Bennet? Would you force me to marry him? Is that what you wish for me? To be sold like a broodmare so that you may keep this estate? Is that how you perceive me Mrs. Bennet? Would you think of me as a burden weighing on your shoulder as long as I remain unmarried? Would you abandon me because of that?"
Mrs. Bennet's eyes widened in disbelief. To be called Mrs. Bennet by her own daughter was a blow she could not handle. Tears welled in her eyes, as she heard the rest of Elizabeth's speech. Her thoughts darted to the condition her daughter was in after her fall, to her estranged eyes which did not recognize any of them, to how she has been desperately trying to win her trust, only to shake the foundation of whatever trust she built.
Elizabeth saw Mrs. Bennet's eyes staring blankly, as her tears came pouring on her cheeks. She braced herself for what was coming. Blame? Expression of regret for taking her in? Reproof?
Instead, Mrs. Bennet said. "Oh, please never call me that again! I am your mother Lizzy! I would never think of you in this way. I only considered what is best for you and your sisters. I … I …" She paused for a while, clearly torn to say her next words. Then, she continued. "Please do not misunderstand me child. I … Ever since your head injury, I thought that you lost the last shred of a chance to secure a comfortable marriage. The truth remains, we have no fortune, and we lack connections. With … With the tragic incident that you underwent, my hopes for seeing you married and happy withered away. I was grateful – I still am grateful to see that you have sustained no physical injury, and it warmed my heart to see you cherishing Longbourn. Hence, when Mr. Collins informed me of his intentions, I thought that I was ensuring what is best for you, and what is also best for your sisters. However, I will never force you into anything. Anyway, rest assured, Mr. Collins went to the Lucases' house shortly after his audience with you. He has secured Charlotte Lucas' hand in marriage."
Elizabeth's heart stirred violently in her chest. She felt remorseful. She should not have spoken to Mrs. Bennet that harshly. However, she could not help the feeling of unease gnawing at her. She felt her heart racing in a chaotic rhythm, each beat echoing the tempest of emotions swirling within her. Her mind was swirling with different emotions all at once: guilt, mistrust, sadness, loss, gratitude, and love. Confusion clouded her vision, a thick fog that obscured clarity, leaving her grappling with contradictory feelings that fought for dominance. Gratitude flickered in and out, a fleeting warmth that was quickly overshadowed by doubt and uncertainty, making her question the very foundation of her relationship with the Bennet family.
Her previous anger simmered just beneath the surface, a fiery pulse that ignited at the confusing destiny that was messing with her, but it was entwined with an aching love that tethered her to those she came to care for, complicating her feelings even further. Overwhelmed, she felt the world tilt, her legs unsteady beneath her as she struggled to make sense of it all. With a final surge of conflicting emotions crashing over her, the dizzying whirlwind proved too much; she collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, desperate for an escape from the turmoil within her heart and mind.
Hours later, another blow came.
As she opened her eyes, she saw Jane hovering over her bed, her eyes were red and puffy, the skin beneath them a delicate shade of pink that betrayed the long moment spent crying.
"Jane what happened?" She groaned.
"Elizabeth! Oh, thank heavens! I am so happy to see that you are okay. Oh, you collapsed to the ground. I was so afraid that another blow harms your mind."
Elizabeth remembered her disastrous morning, and how it left her shaken with different emotions. She glanced back at Jane, who seemed to be troubled with something else.
"Jane. Would you tell me what is bothering you?"
"I … I was worried about you!"
"Please. Tell me whatever it is." She gave her a lingering pleading look.
Jane shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "Caroline Bingley wrote me a letter informing me that they left Netherfield with no intention of ever coming back. The entire party... they've gone to town. Mr. Bingley... he's left."