Page 7 of Body and Soul (Darcy and Elizabeth Variations #8)

Chapter Seven

November 28, 1811 Longbourn Fanny

A s much as she hoped Elizabeth would succeed, Fanny doubted it would be possible. Mr. Bennet had ceased listening to his wife long ago. Now he only teased and mocked her. She was required to harp on him incessantly in order to get anything accomplished—just like when Mr. Bingley arrived. Oh, how she had begged him to call! But, alas, he had refused, and then gone and done it behind her back so he could torment her later.

Perhaps I ought to ignore his jibes, she thought. She had considered it before. He could not torment her if she did not respond, but his actions upset her dreadfully. Despite everything, she still loved him, and that made it hurt all the more.

Resolved to think no further about it, Fanny went in search of Jane. She was not blind to her eldest child’s distress that morning. Gone were the smiles of pleasure and the dreamy look on her countenance, replaced by hunched shoulders and a peculiar tightness around her eyes.

She wandered the house in search of Jane, finally locating her in her chambers. “What is wrong?” she asked without prelude. “I noted your distress earlier this morning.”

Jane turned to look at her, eyes red from tears. “I received a letter from Miss Bingley before breakfast,” she said, offering it to Fanny. She took it as if it would bite her, slowly unfolding it and scanning the words.

“This is ridiculous!” she declared. “What a load of tripe. Mr. Bingley loves you! Think of all the fine things you will have when he comes back for you.”

Jane frowned. “If you are teasing, Lizzy, it is in poor taste. You sound very much like Mama, and she mortifies us both.”

Fanny’s heart dropped. Did Jane really think that way? Her eldest child had never kept her heart on display as Lizzy did. Hesitantly, she said, “I know she is a tad much, but do you not think we have misjudged her?”

“Oh, Lizzy, do you remember what we spoke of yesterday? I fear it was her behavior that drove Mr. Bingley away. I saw how she acted at the ball, even absorbed as I was with Mr. Bingley’s attention. And our sisters! It was a great deal more embarrassing than I let on in front of Charlotte. Our neighbors tolerate our sisters because they have known us for years, but the guests at Netherfield Park have not. They judge through the eyes of society, and we have been found wanting. Our youngest sisters lack the maturity to be out, yet Papa does nothing and Mama encourages them! How can we compete with their mischief and mayhem? Even Mary was not above reproach, though she professes to behave with the most propriety amongst us sisters.” Jane finished her rant and buried her face in her hands.

Fanny did not know what to say. Each word was like a knife to her heart, and she despaired. Had she been the cause of Jane’s potential heartbreak? Had her actions driven away the most eligible man who had ever given one of her daughter’s attention? Oh, what can I do? she wondered. Is it too late to fix this? She did not know, but she wanted to try.

“Dearest,” she said tenderly, placing a hand on Jane’s shoulder, “do not give in to despair yet. We have only the word of Miss Bingley here. Did he not promise to return?”

Jane sniffed. “He did. But surely his sister knows him best. If she says he has an attachment to Miss Darcy, then he must.”

“You have ever seen the best in people, dear sister,” Fanny said. “Miss Bingley has held herself above our company since her arrival.” Even she had noticed the lady’s haughty behavior, all the while admiring her costly London-made gown. “She wants a wealthy, connected wife for her brother. And it is clear from her letter that she wishes to have Mr. Darcy for herself.” Best wishes in that area. Mr. Darcy was as haughty as the lady.

Jane wiped her eyes. “Thank you, Lizzy. I shall have faith. Only, it is so hard. I have always been told my beauty will ensure my future, yet countless gentlemen have slipped through my fingers. And this is the only one who I have…” she trailed off, looking away biting her lip.

“The only one who you love?” Fanny finished. “I understand completely. Wait a little longer. If he does not come, I shall eat my bonnet.” That sounded very much like something Lizzy would say. It worked; Jane laughed and wiped her eyes again before sticking the letter in her pocket.

She rose and hugged Fanny, leaving her wondering when she had last embraced her daughter. “Thank you, Lizzy,” she said again, breaking away. Fanny’s heart broke. She dearly wished Jane knew it was her mother who had comforted her and given her sound advice. With a brittle smile, she only nodded and excused herself.

In Lizzy’s room, she brooded over how her behavior might have cost Jane her suitor. Worse, their security might be forfeit, too, for Mr. Collins had gone off to Lucas Lodge with her blessing. Not that she regretted sending him on his way. Her girls did not need that sort of man in their lives.

I never learned to be a proper lady, she mused. How might things have been different if I had the knowledge? Mr. Bennet had made no attempt to curb her inappropriate behavior. But wait. In the beginning of their marriage, he had corrected her gently, she recalled. It was only after Mary, when she started having flutterings and spasms in her heart, that he had ceased his efforts. She had set aside all his lessons, behaving as the uncouth daughter of a tradesman that she was.

So now how do I proceed? she wondered. Lizzy . That was it. I ought to act like Lizzy and Jane. They are admired wherever they go. Surely, they are a good example of ladylike deportment. And I can practice now, whilst I still look like Elizabeth. People are likely to forgive her more readily than they would me.

Resolved, she left her chambers. Such heavy thoughts deserved something light and pleasing. Cook was happy to give her a few biscuits, and she hid away in the gardens as she devoured them one by one. I ought not to feel guilty, she told herself as she ate the last bite. Yet, her father’s words resounded in her head as they always did. Sighing, she pushed them away and stood, determined not to let ghosts of the past control her any longer.

Elizabeth

Lydia’s shrieks reached her ears as she tried to focus on the account books. Sighing, Elizabeth rose and put down her quill. She had tolerated the noise for long enough.

“You do not look half so handsome in it,” Lydia shouted, taunting Kitty with her new bonnet, and holding it high so that she could not reach it.

“That is mine, Lydia! I purchased it with my pin money. You snuck into my room and stole it. Give it back to me!” Kitty looked ready to cry. Elizabeth knew Mama had forced the dear girl to give up many of her belongings to keep the peace. How she managed to spend time with Lydia without lashing out showed she had admirable self control.

Quietly, she walked up behind her youngest sister and plucked the bonnet out of her hands. Though Lydia was the tallest of the Bennet girls, she was not as tall as Mrs. Bennet. I wish I had more height, Elizabeth thought mournfully. I shall have to enjoy it while I can.

“Mama!” Kitty cried. “Mama, please give it back. It is mine.”

“I look much better in it. Tell her to give it to me, Mama!” Lydia stuck her tongue out at Kitty and smirked, seemingly confident that Elizabeth—or rather, her mother—would side with her.

“Did you go into your sister’s room and take this?” Elizabeth turned and confronted Lydia. Her sister seemed confused not to have her desires granted immediately.

“I did,” she said, “but it is only fair that I have it. I look better in it.”

“How does that make your actions fair?” She frowned, hoping beyond hope she could get through to her sister.

Lydia blinked, her face a study of perplexity. “It is fair because…” she trailed off, thinking. “It is fair, for the bonnet ought to go to the lady on whom it looks best!” she declared at last, triumphant.

“I am afraid that is not how life works,” Elizabeth said. “Every moment, you demonstrate your lack of maturity and your selfishness. How am I to trust you in society if you cannot behave in the privacy of our own home? As of this moment, you are no longer out. Kitty, you will be restricted to small, private gatherings. Now, both of you be off.”

She handed the bonnet to Kitty amidst Lydia’s wails. “That is not fair!” she screeched. “I have been out since June! How can you do this to me?”

“Very easily. I am not impressed with your conduct, and so you shall be confined to the house until it improves. Kitty, if you wish to be spared further consequences, I suggest you depart.” Elizabeth turned to her sister and raised an eyebrow.

“Th-thank you for my bonnet, Mama,” she said quietly before fleeing the room.

“What is the matter with you?” Lydia shouted. “You are not my mama! You are some sort of witch masquerading as her! My mama would never behave so coldly!”

“You have been reading too many novels, my dear,” Elizabeth replied, laughing merrily. Lydia’s suppositions hit a little too close to the truth of the matter for comfort, but she did not fear her sister so discovering. No one would believe her. “Off to your chambers, now. I believe it is time that you are more engaged in your studies.”

“No! You cannot make me.” Lydia crossed her arms stubbornly.

All humor fled Elizabeth’s face. She narrowed her eyes. “I am still taller than you, Lydia,” she said in a quiet, dangerous voice. It sounded truly frightening. Never had she heard her mother speak so, and doing it in her stead made Elizabeth feel like a naughty child. “You can either go by yourself, or I shall escort you. And if you choose the latter, I shall take with me all your gowns, bonnets, shawls, and pretty things when I depart.”

Lydia gasped dramatically. “You would not dare!” Her voice rose louder, and she stomped her foot.

Elizabeth’s hand came out and clasped around Lydia’s arm. Despite the weakness that came with the age of her present body, she found strength somewhere, dragging the spoiled girl from the room whilst calling to Simon to bring a trunk from the attic. Lydia protested the entire way, grabbing onto the railing and trying to prevent herself from being hauled upstairs. Her protests went unheard, and Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief when they came to her bedchamber. She opened the door and pushed Lydia inside first before following and standing in the doorway.

“Enough, Lydia Marie Bennet!” she said loudly. “You are acting like a spoilt child and I will not have it in this house a moment longer. I have lately been made aware of how damaging your behavior could be to this family and our reputation, and I will no longer blind myself to just how badly you act! My goodness, child, what are you thinking? Wailing and throwing a fit because I returned your sister’s belongings to her? How much of what is in your room is Kitty’s? What about your other sisters?”

Simon appeared with a trunk, and Elizabeth began removing gowns from the closet. “This is Jane’s,” she said testily. “It is too short for you. Why do you even have it?” She laid it across a chair and added more gowns to the trunk. “This shawl is mi—Lizzy’s!” she cried angrily. “And I know this bonnet used to be Mary’s.”

“It was too lovely for her.” Lydia folded her arms petulantly and dropped onto her bed.

“Mayhap that is why your sister wears her dull gowns,” Elizabeth cried, suddenly comprehending Mary’s choice of attire. “She fears you will steal them as you did this bonnet.” She remembered when Mary had opened that bonnet, a gift from their Uncle Gardiner. She had touched the flowers reverently and thanked him. But Elizabeth had never seen her sister wear it.

Into the trunk went gowns, bonnets, gloves, ribbons, and more. She left four gowns hanging in the closet, all modestly cut and unadorned. A large pile that contained things that belonged to others graced the chair. Scooping it up, Elizabeth went to the door and nodded to Lydia. “When your behavior improves, I shall return your things,” she said. “And until I say so, you are no longer out in society. I will see that Sally knows to leave your hair down.”

As she closed the door, Lydia wailed. A shattering sound on the back of the door made Elizabeth cringe. Simon stood nearby, trunk in hand. “See that it goes to my chambers,” she said, sighing loudly. Lydia would certainly search the attic if she got a chance. Best not leave the trunk where she could find it.

Mama appeared, and by the look on her face, Elizabeth knew she had heard the entire thing. “Lizzy,” she said, winking at Mama, “will you come help me sort through all of this?” She held up her arms, hoping Mama saw her gesture as what it was, a peace offering.

Mama smiled timidly and nodded, following Elizabeth down the hall to the mistress’s suite. They laid everything out on the bed and sorted it. Kitty’s was the largest and Mary’s the smallest. The items belonging to the two eldest sisters were few since everything in those two piles had been stolen without Mrs. Bennet’s sanction. Elizabeth bristled in anger that Lydia had got away with her nonsense for so long.

“I am very sorry,” her mother said mournfully. “This is all my fault.”

“We have all indulged her dreadfully,” Elizabeth said soothingly. “And we will correct it now.”

“But what if she is like this forever?” Mama whimpered. “How will I atone for my sins, then?”

“If Lydia chooses to stay as she is, it will only be on your head if you do nothing.” Elizabeth took her mother’s hand. Had Mama’s hands always been so large? Her own seemed so small in comparison. “We shall weather this together. And even if my father complains, we shall stick to our decisions. Lydia will behave herself or not see a stitch of society until she comes of age. And I think Mary and Kitty will improve naturally away from her influence.”

“I wish to be closer to both,” Mama whispered. “Especially Mary. She is as foreign to me as you.”

“Then let us do it together.”