Page 17

“Lizzy, the backgammon board looks like a few three-year-olds spent the morning making up a castle game with the pieces.”

Elizabeth gave a short laugh at Jane’s assertion.

They were standing in the driveway watching Mr Darcy ride away.

At a point just outside the gates, the gentleman turned his horse around and pointed definitively at a specific spot on the ground.

Then he tipped his hat, spun, and rode off towards the Schotte estate.

“Is there some significance to that spot?” Jane asked curiously.

“I suspect that is where he threw down the gauntlet,” Elizabeth said with a laugh.

“The day they followed us from Netherfield, he tipped his hat to me while I carried you in the back door, but he did not have his hat. As they returned, he told Mr Bingley he intended to marry me. I suspect that was where the deed was done.”

“That is very romantic,” Jane said with a sigh that was not disappointed per se, but it at least bordered on discontented.

“Yes. Our conversation this morning was somewhat disturbing, but also exceedingly romantic—which might explain the game pieces,” Elizabeth said with her own wistful sigh as he rode out of sight.

“It sounds like the man can be very charming when he wants to,” Jane said innocently.

Elizabeth sighed and looked carefully at her elder. “He most certainly can! So can our father.”

Jane visibly winced, which was a considerable deviation for a lady who liked to keep her cards close to her chest. Reliving their parents’ marriage was something they both feared far more than they were willing to admit.

The worst of it was that neither was entirely certain their parents were unhappy as such.

Sometimes, the sisters even suspected their parents enjoyed their misery.

It was just not the way they wanted to live their lives.

“Are you afraid you will not be able to work out which Mr Darcy you are courting?” Jane asked softly.

“I suppose I should be, but I am not. I am certain I will come to know the man enough to trust him in time. Keep in mind that just over one day ago, he made his apology at the church. This is all very new to me.”

“I believe you have had more honest conversation in that four and twenty hours than our parents have since they married. Do not wait too long or overthink it.”

“I will not. I have promised an answer before the new year, and I think it will come much sooner. I am still frightened by the whole thing, and uncertain of my feelings, but I hope it will become clear over time.”

Jane nodded, and they walked around the garden a bit. The wind was light, and it was slightly cold, but they were dressed warmly and the price of a fire in the drawing room was more than either was willing to pay just yet.

~~~~~

“Mr Bingley will return on Thursday,” Elizabeth said quietly.

“Did Mr Darcy say any more than that?”

“No, he only mentioned it in passing in case you might be interested.”

“Why should I care?”

Elizabeth sighed. “You should not, but I believe he did not want you to be surprised if the gentleman visits Longbourn. I do not think he has any opinion regarding the two of you. Even if he had one, I doubt he would feel entitled to it, and he certainly would not speak it.”

“Perhaps he is already looking at me with the eye of a protector. It is the sort of thing a brother would do.”

Elizabeth thought a moment. “That would be in character. I get the idea he expects you and Mary to live with us. You understand that he is confident he will succeed… though he tries to stop just short of presumptuous.”

“I cannot fault him for that. I am relatively confident in the outcome myself, though I applaud your caution.”

Elizabeth was tired of that subject, so nudged it along. “Do you have an opinion about Mr Bingley?”

“What do you mean?”

“We left Netherfield Wednesday, so it has been five days. I suspect you were hurt by the debacle, but I do not know how much. How do you see him now: Indifferent acquaintance? Spurned suitor? Friend? Enemy? Do you even care?”

Jane took her turn to think about her response for some time. “I suppose there are things about him I liked… perhaps more than was prudent.”

“ Hah! ” Elizabeth laughed. “I am being courted by a man I could not stand when I got up yesterday, so I may not be your best choice for a confidant to discuss prudence.”

“Yes, I can see that… but you happen to be the one I have right now, and this is not a discussion I plan to have with anyone else. I can just barely have it with you.”

“I understand.”

They wandered a bit more before Jane said, “I suppose, in some ways, it comes down to Mr Bingley. We have no idea what he thinks. For all we know, he has lost interest entirely.”

“If that be the case, then the problem is already solved.”

“Yes, I suppose so, and it is not an outcome I would be overly distraught over. He would not be the first man that went sour on me.”

“Since that one is so easy, let us suppose he is interested in… something. What would you think?”

They wandered some more, with Jane obviously deep in thought.

“I suppose Mr Bingley needs to decide if he is a boy or a man. I liked the boy, but not enough to bind myself to him. I may or may not like the man he might become someday.”

“Well said.”

Both sisters decided they had discussed Mr Bingley enough.

He would return, or he would not. He would call, or he would not.

He would apologise, or he would not. He would try to dig himself out of the grave his friend and sisters dug for him, or he would not.

If he did, he would succeed or fail. For all contingencies, there was little point in wandering freezing to death trying to work it out.

~~~~~

“What did you and Mr Darcy find so funny, Lizzy?” Lydia asked with faux innocence just after they sat down to the dinner table.

“You would have to have been there to understand,” she returned nonchalantly.

Elizabeth was not one to be easily riled by her younger sister, and she thought she would have to accustom herself to either avoiding or answering questions about the gentleman, since there was a short limit on how long she could keep her courtship secret.

So far, the only thing keeping it unnoticed was how vehemently she had railed against him before Netherfield, but that cover would not last long.

It would only take one or two more calls with the gentleman speaking exclusively to her for the news of the courtship to escape.

In all honesty, Elizabeth was looking forward to being courted properly and publicly.

She thought it would be a good test of whether she had the mettle for the position of Mrs Darcy.

However, to get to a public courtship, she would have to notify her mother and younger sisters.

She desperately wanted a couple more quiet meetings with the gentleman before that happened, as she doubted that she would get much peace afterward.

As talk swirled around the table, Elizabeth thought about what she would face as Mrs Darcy.

The gentleman was doing his best to prepare her for the trials she might endure, but he probably had no idea how vicious London society was going to be for her.

He would obviously protect her as well as he could, but Elizabeth knew full well that in London society, Caroline Bingley was a minnow, and she would be opposed by sharks.

Many a disappointed rich gentry or peer, who had set their sights on Darcy over the last decade (along with their mothers), would have the claws out looking for her first misstep, real or imagined.

It gave her pause, and she spent most of the meal ignoring the nonsense spoken at the table in favour of her own musings.

Mr Bennet, in an uncharacteristic lapse of his usual custom, left her to her own thinking, and even deflected his wife and younger daughters several times to give Elizabeth time to ruminate on the possibilities.

He had a good idea of what she must be thinking, but he felt no compulsion to offer guidance when it was not requested.

Of course, he could allow his daughter her thoughts because he had his own hidden source of amusement, which he deployed near the end of lunch.

“I hope, my dear, that you have ordered a good dinner today, because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party.”

“Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure, unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in—and I hope my dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home.”

“The person of whom I speak is a gentleman, and a stranger.”

Thus began a good five minutes of what to him was the greatest amusement as everyone at the table (with the notable exception of Elizabeth) tried to guess, or to pry out the name and situation of the visitor.

He reckoned she was either busy with her own thoughts, or more likely, was on to his tricks and knew she would learn the identity of the visitor in his time regardless of what anyone else said or did.

When his amusement had run its course, he finally answered.

“About a month ago I received this letter; and about a fortnight ago I answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr Collins, who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases.”

This caused yet another cacophony among the residents, and yet another attempt by Jane to explain the entail to Mrs Bennet. Once again, Elizabeth abstained, but she at least paid attention.

With glee, Mr Bennet read Mr Collins’s letter, and everyone (even Mary) thought he sounded like quite an odd character.

For example, why did he need to explain that, as a parson he would perform the accustomed duties of a parson?

A coachman need not specify that he cared for horses.

Why should anyone care what his patroness, had to say about his schedule?

More to the point, what was an olive-branch?

It obviously made sense for the man to learn about the estate he would inherit, but there seemed to be many better ways to go about it.

Eventually, the discussion wound down.

“At four o’clock, therefore, we may expect this peace-making gentleman,” said Mr Bennet, as he folded up the letter.

“He seems to be a most conscientious and polite young man, upon my word, and I doubt not will prove a valuable acquaintance, especially if Lady Catherine should be so indulgent as to let him come to us again.”

“There is some sense in what he says about the girls, however, and if he is disposed to make them any amends, I shall not be the person to discourage him.”

“Though it is difficult,” said Jane, “to guess in what way he can mean to make us the atonement he thinks our due, the wish is certainly to his credit.”

Elizabeth was struck by the same thought, and the only suppositions she could make were that he was wife-shopping.

Since that was the generally practised sport for young people of their age.

If the man already had a living and was not starving to death as a curate, it would be a sensible and ordinary thing to do.

One could easily argue that the best way to find a suitable mistress for an estate was to marry someone who already knew it intimately.

In principle, it was like what Mr Darcy said about the usual way courtships were done in the first circles (if a man had enough sense to not fall in love, that was).

You would choose a wife from among the pool of people you already knew were suitable.

Though Mr Collins’s visit seemed slightly mercenary, it was no worse than the usual practises.

If he were in a mood for courtship, Longbourn was as good a place to start as any—as long as he understood he had to earn it and could not have his pick of the litter.

Elizabeth and Mary spoke after the meal and could not come to any firm conclusions.

On the one hand, having the heir wed one of the Bennet daughters would solve several problems (real or perceived). Since Elizabeth had been thinking of nothing but courtship and marriage for a full day, she had jumped to the obvious conclusion only a step behind her mother, which was disconcerting.

On the other hand, his letter was full of pompous nothings and nonsense. Unless his writing was a poor reflection of his character, she had a tough time believing he would be at all amiable or sensible.

Above all, Elizabeth was happy about one thing: If he was wife-shopping she was safely off the market.