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Kitty’s smile was not as bright as Elizabeth’s, but she seemed to have become more relaxed the further they traveled from Longbourn.

“The walk was rather nice. Even though it is fall and the trees are becoming bare, I find the lack of foliage might inspire a sketch or painting. It was all picturesque.” Kitty’s mind, though timid, was also artistic, and she was ever looking for the beauty in the world around her.

Maria Lucas lamented her ability. Slumping into her well-stuffed chair, she became the image of defeat.

“You are ever so accomplished with paints and drawings. I despair of even making something recognizable. I attempted to paint Father’s horse Jupiter recently and Robby told me it was a very tolerable cow. ”

Kitty made sure not to laugh, though she found the situation funny.

She saw how bothered Maria was; she seemed to be beside herself.

“Animals are ever so hard. I find painting nature so much easier. Trees and fields do not move around nearly as much. I would be happy to show you a few techniques I use whenever you wish.” Kitty’s grin lit up her face.

Art was one of her passions, and it was not quite a secret.

“Charlotte, may we go practice in the morning room?” Maria clasped her hands together in a beseeching motion.

“That would be fine.” Charlotte smiled at both of the girls’ joy. “Try to keep the paint off the furniture,” she called after their rushing forms.

Elizabeth was happy to see her sister with some enthusiasm. She needed a problem that she could work on and conquer, preferably not her own problem. This would do nicely. “Thank you for indulging them. Kitty really could do with some distraction.”

“Maria could use the practice. She is not nearly as skilled as Kitty, though I know she tries.” Charlotte paused briefly before asking, “Is there something that has you escaping Longbourn?” Though fond of a call from Elizabeth, it seemed something had prompted this excursion. She had not just happened by.

Elizabeth did not dare voice what she truly thought of the man.

Ladies did not speak aloud words like those.

“My father’s cousin, many times removed, has come for a fortnight.

He is the heir presumptive and will inherit Longbourn on Father’s passing.

He is not a man any of us would choose to spend time with. ”

“Did he come with his family?” Once the tea arrived, Charlotte busied herself with preparing cups for her guests.

Elizabeth shuddered. She could not picture sitting across from the man at the dinner table for longer than she had to. The thought of Mr. Collins fathering children was nauseating. “The man is quite single.” The woman who married that man would have her eternal pity.

“What are his prospects besides Longbourn?” Charlotte inquired.

“He is the clergyman who holds the living at the Hunsford parish. Lady Catherine de Bourgh gave it to him.” Elizabeth worried for the people of Rosings if the woman in charge chose Mr. Collins.

Charlotte felt brittle at the news of an eligible gentleman staying at Longbourn.

She had no hopes or prospects and yet her friend somehow had many opportunities and too many principles.

“If that is the case, I question why you are spending time here and not at home trying to promote yourself to a highly eligible gentleman. I do not understand how you can overlook an opportunity such as this. You could be the mistress of your childhood home!” Charlotte found at times like these it was difficult to be Elizabeth’s friend.

She had so many things going for her. She was intelligent and beautiful, and her family had held Longbourn for two centuries.

Yet she did not use what she had to reach for the one thing all single women sought: a husband.

“Charlotte, he is not a man that I, or I believe any woman, would be comfortably married to. His attitude toward people under his power is disturbing. His thoughts about women are infuriating and his table manners leave me without an appetite. He reeks of onions even when bathed. In short, I can only assume that marriage to him would be a misery despite any benefit derived from prestige or situation.” She knew Charlotte could never understand the torment that existed in a home with a husband and father who did not respect or even care for you.

The clatter of her teacup slamming into its saucer punctuated Charlotte’s upset.

“You are younger than I, so maybe you do not understand the fate you are tempting. To be a poor relation or being forced to find some employment are the prospects I now face. The opportunity to be the mistress of my own establishment is a prospect I would do almost anything for.”

“Charlotte, he is an utter buffoon. He blathers on without end, using more words than necessary in every sentence. I doubt he fully understands half the words that come out of his mouth. He has deified his patroness Lady Catherine and holds her opinion over the Holy Scripture and canon law.” It pained Elizabeth to think that Charlotte, an intelligent woman, would put herself under the power of such a man.

“Not everyone is as intelligent as you are, Elizabeth, and I stand by my former statement. As neither of us is likely to change our opinions, perhaps we should choose a new topic of conversation?” Charlotte’s voice took on the prim tone it sometimes took when upset.

“I noticed Lady Lucas was not here to greet us. Is she suffering from another one of her headaches?” Elizabeth could never imagine the desperation that Charlotte felt, but Charlotte could never comprehend the oppressive weight of living under her father’s tyrannical rule.

Elizabeth had long ago decided to never marry a man who she could not respect and who would not respect her in return.