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  Elizabeth, with a warning glance at Miss Lucas, who looked to be on the verge of laughter, thanked him very prettily and handed him his tea.

  “Clever Eliza!” remarked Miss Lucas, once he had moved away and she, in turn, received her cup. “I wonder how soon people will start to realise that you are the fabled piper – piping the tune that we all dance merrily to.”

  Lizzy laughed,.“Oh, I think this will please you immensely. I have never had so much difficulty getting my own way than with Mr. Darcy.”

  “It does. I foresee great amusement when he returns, in fact. He is still much on your mind then, my dear?”

  Lizzy nodded to the next guest who had come for tea, her aunt Gardiner. “Yes, I confess that he has taken root in my mind and I cannot at all be comfortable until I have decided upon a course of action.”

  “Must you have a motive? Can you not simply behave as other mortals do and see if you cannot like him enough to.…” She trailed off, aware that Mrs. Gardiner, while the very soul of discretion, was listening with interest.

  “Oh, do not stop on my account, Miss Lucas. If a gentleman has caught Elizabeth’s fancy, I daresay it will not be at all long before we all hear his identity. Speaking of great mysteries, however, is aught amiss with Kitty and Lydia?”

  Elizabeth suppressed a grin and looked politely interested. “Not that I am aware of, Aunt. Lydia at least enjoys very robust health.”

  “What makes you ask, Mrs. Gardiner?” asked Charlotte, not at all fooled by the innocence in Elizabeth’s expression, nor by her careful answer.

  “They have quite transformed, since I last saw them, into the most delightfully mannered young women. It is as though the vestiges of childhood have almost left them. I really thought I could have been talking to a younger livelier version of Jane earlier on.”

  “The transformation must have been quite recent, I must suppose,” said Miss Lucas, looking significantly at Lizzy and remembering the last assembly ball in Meryton.

  Elizabeth became quite enraptured by the state of her teapot and the other two ladies raised their eyebrows as their glances met over her head.

  By the time the Lucas family left, well fed and fully satisfied as to the superiority of Mrs. Bennet’s table, the remaining inhabitants of Longbourn sat down together in the drawing room; the little children had been sent off to bed much earlier and only the adults remained. Even Mr. Bennet, in a mellow mood, deigned to remain with the rest of them. A soft, pleasant hubbub filled the room, each conversation indistinguishable from the rest unless one actively made the attempt to decipher the words. Elizabeth took a moment to sit beside Jane.

  “Oh, my dear, I have so much to tell you of – we must have a talk later, you and I, unless you are too tired. It has been a weary day for you, I gather.”

  “Of course, Lizzy; we shall speak later. I shan’t fall asleep mid confessions, I promise you. I am a little tired, of course, but not so fatigued as our poor aunt; she was quite unwell earlier on account of...well, you know.” finished Jane, blushing.

  “Ah, poor Aunt Gardiner. Perhaps we might find a cunning way of sending her off to bed early then.…”

  Elizabeth was unable to complete her sentence, for Mrs. Bennet, who had been speaking to Kitty, had let out a small shriek and was even now staring at her second daughter with wide, shocked eyes.

  Mr. Bennet began to look amused and it did not take Elizabeth very long to hit upon the reason for her mother’s outburst. She sent Kitty a glare and did not feel in the slightest bit sorry for her sister when she looked guilt-stricken and her shoulders slumped.

  “But, but...I do not at all understand! Elizabeth, how can this possibly be true? Your father would surely have told me of an engagement.”

  Lizzy heard Jane gasp beside her and she quickly shook her head. “I daresay he would do so, Mama – should such an engagement exist.”

  “Then...then...Kitty was only funning – Mr. Darcy did not actually propose to you?”

  Silence descended upon the company. Elizabeth collected her wits together, regretting that an outright lie would be quickly corrected by Mr. Collins or Mary.

  “He has requested permission to court me, Mama,” she said quietly, heartily disliking that such a private conversation should be taking place so publicly and feeling her neck flush hot with embarrassment.

  Mrs. Bennet let out another little shriek. “Elizabeth! Oh, you clever, clever thing. You will be so...I mean...such consequence!”

  Mr. Bennet took pity on Elizabeth, seeing her red-stained cheeks. “Thank you for that helpful evaluation, Mrs. Bennet. Shall we defer our discussion on the subject until a later time? It is fortunate that we are among family, who I am sure would not dream of spreading such gossip about that Elizabeth might be forced to decide in a manner she may not wish to.”

  “Not wish to?! Not – wish to marry such a handsome, well-connected rich young man as Mr. Darcy? Do not even consider such a thing, Mr. Bennet!”

  Elizabeth quietly suggested that it was entirely possible that they would both conclude that they should not suit one another.

  “Not suit?” echoed Mrs. Bennet, aghast, as bitterly disappointed now as she had been ecstatically surprised but moments ago. “Let me tell you this, Miss Lizzy, if you set your mind to convincing him that you are the ideal wife, he won't think any such thing. You could not throw away such an opportunity! I do not think I could forgive such a waste.”

  Annoyed, Elizabeth retorted, “Madam, I am fairly certain that the laws of this land permit a young woman the power of refusal – if Mr. Darcy does propose to me again, I shall give him whatever answer seems best for the both of us. To do otherwise might doom us to a lifetime of misery.”

  Mrs. Bennet was not a bad woman, but she was a simple-minded one, and most of the people in the room knew that her anger once roused was hot but it burnt out swiftly and that she very rarely meant what she said when in a temper. “Elizabeth, if you drive Mr. Darcy and his ten thousand pounds away through sheer stubbornness, you may as well consider yourself homeless, for I certainly shall not provide a home for such an ungrateful girl and what is more….”

  Mrs. Bennet was unable to say whatever else she wished to in the height of her disappointed anger, for, in a move that quite astonished them all, Mr. Collins intervened.

  “My sister Elizabeth,” he said slowly and carefully, “will never need to consider herself homeless as long as I am alive to offer her a place to live. A more selfless, loyal, morally upright young woman I have very rarely encountered.” He crossed the room to her as he spoke, intending to reinforce physically what he wanted to communicate. William Collins would stand by her. He had not forgotten the noble sacrifice she had made for the happiness of both himself and his dear Mary. Elizabeth had told him on that very occasion that she so much wanted a brother – well, she should have one now.

  Elizabeth, surprised as much by the lump that had appeared in her throat as by the loyal defence given by Mr. Collins, reached for her brother’s hand and pressed it gratefully.

  “Oh! My dear brother,” she said, and burst into overwrought tears.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You know that she did not mean it. Mama was simply so very – surprised – by hearing of it so very suddenly. From her perspective, she had been granted her very dearest wish, that her daughters should be well settled and in the next moment was fearing that it should not be after all. Do not heed it, dearest Lizzy – Mama truly loves you – all she does is for our wellbeing. Oh, Lizzy, do not cry. You must be quite overwhelmed.”

  Elizabeth, having burst so suddenly, so mortifyingly into tears at Mr. Collins’s defence, had fled the room with her bewildered elder sister hard at her heels.

  Having begun to cry, it seemed as though she could not stop – the events of the last few weeks had finally caught up with her and her already tangled thoughts and feelings needed to be let out on the shoulder of a gentle Jane.

  Sweet Jane, however weary she might be, however burdened her own heart, was eager to be of some comfort to Elizabeth. It was rare that such a service was necessary for this particular sister; Lizzy was such a cheery soul in general and quite clever enough to defend herself in an argument – Jane would have been hard-pressed to think of a time when she had sobbed quite like this.

  Eventually, the weeping ceased and Elizabeth’s breathing slowed from short hitched gasps to a steadier gentler rhythm. From vast experience of comforting Kitty and Mary, Jane knew that the words would soon spring forth and they could speak profitably.

  “Forgive me, Jane; I do not at all know what came over me – it is not at all like me.”

  Jane stroked away the wild hair that was tickling her chin and once again rested her cheek upon her sister’s head.

  “I know, my dear; it is a sign of how concerned you have been. I am here now – tell me all.”

  And with that, Elizabeth imparted to Jane all that had transpired since she had gone into Kent. She hesitated in telling her about Mr. Bingley, but the slow steady stroke of Jane’s hand on her head was so soothing and the desire to speak unhampered truth, without agenda or fear of consequence, was so strong in her that she spoke until all of it was out.

  If Jane’s arms tightened involuntarily for a moment when Lizzy mentioned Mr. Bingley, she did not say anything, merely listened attentively as the tale unfolded.

  When Lizzy was done, they half lay together on the bed in silence. Eventually, Jane sighed and whispered, “Poor Mr. Darcy.”

  Elizabeth gave a watery chuckle. “No, my dear – rich Mr. Darcy; therein lies the problem.”

  Smiling at her sister’s wit returning, Jane said, “I do not suppose he has ever considered that it might be an impediment before. Why do you, my dear? You have long known that we mu
st marry well. I do not quite understand.”

  “If he were less than he is, I might consider him in as carefree a fashion as I did when I thought he disliked me. I do not like feeling foolish, and when I think of how I should have liked to dismiss him...it would not have been a sensible thing to do. I am at war with my own inclinations. I do not usually struggle to determine what it is I want; ordinarily, my mind is too busy fathoming out how I can get it.”

  “Do you feel bound by duty to encourage him?”

  "No-o. I am not afraid of Mama’s wrath, if that is what you mean, nor do I fear that Papa would try to coerce me, however much that letter has put him in favour of the match.” She wriggled off the bed and started to take off her evening clothes, a flash of a smile appearing when Jane frowned at the way she pulled at the buttons to undo them. “It is more that I know full well how good a match with Mr. Darcy would be for my family. Kitty and Lydia have already shown a willingness to better themselves and I know how much worry it would ease in Mama for me to be secure but....”

  “You do not love him,” came the simple rejoinder.

  “No,” said Elizabeth, finally free of her dress. “I do not. I do not know if I can even like him. That is...I do not dislike him any more; he has shown some excellent qualities, not least the ability to admit when he has erred and to make amends – very few men are capable of such, I believe. If he is a good man, which I think he may be, however ill favoured his manners in company, it must be wrong of me to marry him with such an imbalance of affection, surely? We have always said that we wished to marry for love, have we not?”

  “I hardly think we were expecting these exceptional circumstances, Elizabeth,” said Jane ruefully. “I do not suppose this can be sorted out until Mr. Darcy comes into Hertfordshire. He will call on you and you will decide if you like him enough to marry him and then things will become clearer. If you cannot like him nor respect him, then on no account must you accept him.”

  Elizabeth’s head popped up through the neck of her nightgown. “Jane. Will you be glad to see Mr. Bingley again, if he comes?”

  “Certainly,” she said with great calmness, neatly hanging up her dress. “I am sure I should be glad to see any neighbour of ours return to the area – it is so melancholy to see a home empty of its occupants.”

  “Jane!”

  Miss Bennet sighed. “I fear I may be as confused about Mr. Bingley as you are about Mr. Darcy but for different reasons. You are considering if you can marry without love to a man you believe will make a good husband and I – I am wondering if I am in love with a man who might make a very bad one. We neither of us will know until the gentlemen come, if they come.”

  They both climbed into bed, tired in body, mind, and heart, glad of the comfort they could give and receive from each other. Jane blew out the candle and they lay in the silent darkness, their thoughts clarifying in their minds now that they had spoken them aloud.

  “Perhaps…” said Lizzy, sleep slurring her voice, “perhaps we had better end old maids after all and live like this forever. I can think of worse fates than to live with my dearest sister all my life.”

  A soft snore answered her.

  It was a sheepish Mrs. Bennet who came into the girls’ room the next morning. The two young ladies had slept later than their wont and were hurrying with their toilettes before the breakfast bell was struck.

  “Good morning, girls.”

  “Good morning, Mama,” chirruped Jane, who woke each morning with the cheerful thought that a new day was a beautiful thing.

  Elizabeth, trying desperately to shake off the slow fog of sleep by doing battle with a face cloth and freezing cold water, made a noise somewhere between a salutation and a grunt.

  Mrs. Bennet came further into the room, instinctively reaching to hold back the lock of Elizabeth’s hair that was in danger of being drenched. It was an office that she had often performed for her daughters – holding their hair back when ill or when washing. Motherly gestures of love did not vanish simply because her daughters were grown.

  Elizabeth raised her head from the bowl and met the eyes that were so like her own.

  “I did not mean it, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Bennet, troubled that her heedless words had so upset her most unflappable daughter.

  “Oh, I know it, Mama. Do not fret – I shall try very hard to like Mr. Darcy. Perhaps it will not be so hard as I imagine it.”

  “Oh, my love!” said Mrs. Bennet, returning to cheerful excitement. “Such a fine thing! Will he come soon, do you think?”

  “I cannot tell you, ma’am.”

  “Well, I suppose gentlemen never do come when they ought to, do they? It is a trial, to be sure. Let us go down to breakfast – the Collinses are to leave us soon after. Mary will want to take the journey in easy stages; you may depend upon it I shall tell Mr. Collins how to manage it. I was quite, quite dreadfully ill with my first and the very thought of a long carriage ride on bad roads...well! By the by, I do not suppose you could assure your brother that your Mama is not so dreadful a human being as he seems inclined to think?”

  Elizabeth, submitting to Mrs. Bennet's deft hands putting up her hair as she rattled on, winced as a strand was pulled a little too tight.

  “I am sure he knows that a dearer mother never existed, Mama, but I will be sure to tell him.”

  It was apparent, by the time Mr. Collins and Mary sat at breakfast, that in his ready defence of Elizabeth he was now regarded by all as quite one of the family. Mr. Bennet especially seemed to speak to him with a greater measure of respect, and Mary, when she was not steadfastly looking away from the fish on his plate, looked at him with what may have been adoration in her eyes.

  He smiled when Elizabeth came into the breakfast room arm in arm with her Mama, more convinced than ever that the epitome of generous, forgiving womanhood was present in the room. Should she marry Mr. Darcy, she would be wholly deserving, he thought, of the rank and privilege that would be bestowed on her. He flattered himself that he had seen her exceptional qualities almost as soon as he entered the house and that where William Collins’s high opinion was warranted, surely Mr. Darcy need not think twice about courting such a woman. Indeed, one might almost suggest that he himself had aided the match, not that he would ever be so crass as to say so in public, of course.

  The Collinses parted from the Bennets with great satisfaction. Mr. Collins was pleased to have been of service to his dear sister, and his confidence was much bolstered by the increase in familial feeling toward him after what had been uncalculated instinct on his part. He held no ill will toward Mrs. Bennet – if his sister Elizabeth could forgive and forget with such readiness, so too could a Humble Reverend. His thoughts were quickly focussed by his dear Mrs. Collins leaning heavily on his arm to ascend into the carriage and he was put in mind of the last time he had handed her up as his bride. He marvelled that his regard for her had increased so much in what was such a short time. She was an excellent woman, so practical and so ready to aid him in his work.

  The promise of motherhood suited her, he thought, as he settled himself into the carriage, smiling fondly at the faint smell of ginger that pervaded the enclosed space. She reminded him very much of a painting he had once seen of her namesake – the very essence of maternal beauty.

  Seeing her husband regarding her with such undisguised admiration, Mary briefly forgot the churning of her stomach and blushed.

  “Mary, my dear,” said Mr. Collins, “what think you of the name Catherine Elizabeth?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Two complete days after the Collinses had departed from Longbourn, Mrs. Phillips made haste up the drive, eager with news and excitement. She communicated that Mr. Bingley, who had so suddenly left the country in the autumn, was to return on the morrow.

  Mrs. Phillips was very fond of her nieces, the two youngest in particular, but was sorely disappointed at the lack of reaction that her gossip met with amongst the ladies of Longbourn. Jane she had not expected to give much away – she was such a reserved thing (although so well mannered), but she rather thought that Kitty and Lydia might have let slip some detail of their sister having met Mr. Bingley in London and that she was the reason he was returning. Alas, she left the house with no further gossip to spread around Meryton, the Bennets having expressed mild pleasure that the great house at Netherfield would not be left empty and that Mr. Bingley was quite permitted to come and go as he pleased without requiring their sanction.