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Elizabeth was still thinking about her mother’s final words as she approached the breakfast parlour, so she was startled when Mr Collins singled her out in the corridor, bowed, and asked politely, “May I have a moment, Miss Elizabeth?”

“Of course,” she replied cautiously. It seemed the man had something to say, and she only hoped he would get it out before breakfast was stone-cold.

“I must apologise if my words last night gave offence. None was meant.”

Elizabeth looked to the man who seemed to be just short of swooning.

“You are forgiven. No harm was done, and Mr Darcy is a generous man who has been gossiped about far more than you can imagine. That said, may I offer some unsolicited advice?”

“Certainly,” he said nervously.

“This is a touch hypocritical since gossip is the coin of the realm in this house… but, as a newly minted gentleman you may find it useful to… talk less and listen more. Your occupation requires you to hear your parishioners, and you can hardly do that if they do not have the freedom to speak.”

The man looked like he would have preferred a beating to the kindly meant advice, but he nodded in acceptance and scurried away.

Elizabeth doubted the lesson would have the slightest effect, but he might grow up one day.

Once he was gone, Elizabeth went back to thinking about the only gentleman who truly belonged in her mind.

~~~~~

Breakfast proceeded apace as it generally did with a raucous and noisy table.

Elizabeth’s mother and sisters had mostly reverted to form as expected, and the hypocrisy of her lecture to her cousin bothered her more and more.

Understanding and sympathising with her mother helped a great deal, but there was still far more silliness at the table than she would have preferred—especially with respect to the officers.

According to her two youngest sisters, said officers had every conceivable advantage, including a propensity to pay them attention, which they considered both their due and a sign of intelligence in the gentlemen.

Elizabeth wondered at just how silly her sisters were being with the officers, then wondered why neither of her parents seemed willing or able to check them. Long experience had taught her the futility of attempting to rein them in, so she decided to stop worrying about what she could not change.

Before they finished, she rapped the table to get everyone’s attention, then looked particularly at Kitty and Lydia to ensure their compliance while raising her voice.

“I cannot stress enough that my courtship with Mr Darcy is a private matter! I had not planned to share it with the family until next week. As far as the rest of Meryton is concerned, it is still private! None of you are to breathe a word about it… to anyone… especially our aunt or any other gossip. Do I make myself clear?”

“La, Lizzy,” Lydia said. “What do you care if everyone knows you are engaged to a handsome and rich man, no matter how dreary and disagreeable he is. If I were engaged to him, I would shout it from the rooftops.”

“A courtship and an engagement are two entirely different things, Lydia. The latter does not always follow the former, and gossip is the fastest way to put it off.”

“You worry too much… and besides that, I would bet I will be the first to be married.”

Elizabeth shook her head at her sister’s wilful stupidity but saw little point in trying to correct her least clever sister when her own father was openly laughing.

“I certainly hope you will not be. You are far too young to be married. You do realise that married women rarely go to balls and dances, no?”

“Mrs Forster does!” Lydia asserted with a whoop of triumph.

Elizabeth just shook her head. “I will not argue with such silliness… but neither will I allow you to speak out of turn. If a single word of my very private courtship gets out, I will assume it was from the two of you, and neither of you will ever borrow a bonnet or any money again—and you can forget about visiting town or Pemberley!”

The two youngest tried to look serious while promising to hold their tongues. Elizabeth had little faith in the scheme, but she had done what she could.

Kitty asked, “Will Mr Darcy be calling today, Lizzy?”

“No, he has gone fox hunting at Willowbrook.”

Lydia loudly asserted, “When a beau falls in love with me, he will call every day!”

Elizabeth resisted the desire to thump her sister on the head—not through any charitable feelings, but mostly because Lydia had long ago learnt to sit out of reach.

“He is a gentleman and has obligations. He was engaged to visit the Schutte’s yesterday and hunt today before we were courting.

Would you have him renege on his commitments the day after his big speech? ”

“I suppose not,” Lydia grumbled with poor grace.

“We will meet some of his relations on Thursday.”

~~~~~

Lydia’s intention of walking to Meryton was not forgotten; every sister except Mary agreed to go with her; and Mr Collins was to attend them, at the request of Mr Bennet, who was most anxious to get rid of him, and have his library to himself; for thither Mr Collins had followed him after breakfast; and there he would continue, nominally engaged with one of the largest folios in the collection, but really talking to Mr Bennet, with little cessation, of his house and garden at Hunsford.

Elizabeth was not surprised that Mary elected to practise in peace and quiet (and away from Mr Collins), nor was she astonished that her father was more than happy to make his problem into her problem (where ‘her’ was any female member of his family).

In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his cousins, their time passed till they entered Meryton.

The attention of the younger ones was then no longer to be gained by him.

Their eyes were immediately wandering up in the street in quest of the officers, and nothing less than a very smart bonnet indeed, or a really new muslin in a shop window, could recall them.

Lizzy had long since stopped listening to the clergyman, but Jane made a stalwart effort to pay some attention.

Mr Collins had apparently either forgotten Elizabeth’s strictures on over-speaking entirely or had not really been listening.

That lady was only happy that she was at least safe from the man’s attentions.

He did seem somewhat dense, so it was entirely possible he might fixate on Jane or Mary—but she thought the clergyman’s chance of success was minimal at best.

The attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man, whom they had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance, walking with another officer on the other side of the way.

The younger Bennet sisters managed to get an introduction to the young man on some weak pretext, but Elizabeth did not make too much of a fuss, since she was mildly curious herself.

The young man was a new recruit—a friend of Mr Denny, who she knew slightly.

Lydia and Kitty were ecstatic to learn the man was to join the corps, for the young man wanted only regimentals to make him completely charming.

His appearance was greatly in his favour; he had all the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address.

For her part, Elizabeth found the man interesting enough—just barely.

He was indeed handsome, as could be presumed from Lydia making moon eyes at him—but he was certainly no more handsome than Mr Darcy.

He had ready and unassuming manners and pleasing address—though none were superior to the post-apology Darcy.

He seemed a little on the old side to be just joining the militia, as he seemed within a year or two of Mr Darcy.

He was deft with a compliment or a kind word—perhaps just a little too deft.

Mr Collins had asserted the previous evening that he liked to give his practised compliments as unstudied an air as possible.

Mr Collins obviously failed in the endeavour where Mr Wickham succeeded.

Elizabeth had no idea why she was certain of that, but she was.

Perhaps it was the practised smoothness of his address where she was becoming accustomed to the awkward bluntness of Mr Darcy.

With a start, Elizabeth realised she was measuring the man against her beau.

Whether that was fair or not was neither here nor there.

Neither was the fact that in every measure, Mr Wickham came up short.

What was startling was the dawning realisation that she would probably be measuring all new male acquaintances against Mr Darcy for some time.

She had no idea what it meant—but it was interesting.

She noticed that as time went on, Mr Wickham paid her increasing attention, regardless of how much her sisters strove for it while Elizabeth tried her best to dissuade him.

It made no sense, since she could barely be bothered to be civil to the man with her head being full of comparisons to another.

It made even less sense (unless he was blind) with Jane standing close, though one could argue that he was simply put off by Mr Collins’s hopeless attentions.

She wondered at the man’s apparent interest, but like everything else about him, it could not capture any more of her attention than required for politeness.

~~~~~

The soldiers escorted the ladies to their Aunt Philips house, and just before entering, Elizabeth cautioned her two youngest sisters in a whisper, “Remember… not a word to a living soul.”

They both just laughed as if her cautioning then for the second time in an hour was the silliest thing she had ever done, but she was not to be put off.

Mrs Philips was the maternal aunt that the Netherfield ‘ladies’ had taken so much exception to (one of them, at least).

As the sister of Mrs Bennet, she had married directly into her sphere, and presided over the house she was born in.

She married her father’s articled clerk who had taken over his practise.

They had no children, so she spent whatever maternal affection she felt from time to time on her nieces, since she had a decided lack of offspring while her sister had a surplus.

Mrs Bennet’s other brother, who came up for censure in the same conversation, was a particularly successful tradesman who lived in Cheapside.

Aside from Jane’s assertion that her ‘tradesman uncle would not allow such speech among his sailors and longshoremen at his warehouses, let alone in his home;’ Elizabeth had not discussed the Gardiners with her beau.

They had hardly had time since their entire courtship to date consisted of a couple hours of conversation.

That said, it was a subject she was anxious to explore and put to rest. She would give up Mr Darcy before the Gardiners; but she thought she understood his character well enough to remain unconcerned.

If he were about to object to her relations, he would not be courting her in the first place.

She strongly suspected she and her aunt thirty years hence would often find themselves interrupting a discussion of fishing to drag two fat old men away from the dinner-table.

Upon introduction, Mrs Philips let slip that she had been watching the men walk up and down the street, and she readily agreed with her younger nieces that the officers, in comparison with the stranger, were become ‘stupid, disagreeable fellows.’

Mrs Philips planned a small gathering with lottery tickets and hot supper the following day, but Lydia and Kitty begged her to strike while the iron was hot.

Three officers were present along with the Bennets and Mr Collins.

Elizabeth did not oppose the scheme, since Mr Darcy was not available that day but might be for an hour or two on Wednesday.

If they advanced the gathering by a day, she would have a chance to meet with him on more intimate terms before their courtship became public knowledge.

In the back of her mind, Elizabeth resisted the voice telling her that the day was wasted without speaking to her beau, so she may as well go to her aunt’s as not just for something to do.

The ladies spent an hour having tea while Mrs Philips sent a couple of boys out with messages and arranged the gathering that very evening.

The militia officers had a flexible schedule, and they would do anything for a decent meal.

Given a choice of barracks food with smelly men, or ladies and an elegant dinner, the decision was not difficult.

With a couple of hours before the gathering, the sisters returned to Longbourn to change, rest a bit, and return in the carriage.

With the rushed supper arranged, the party left in good cheer with Kitty and Lydia running ahead with spirits inexhaustible over all the pleasures of seeing the officers and Mr Wickham a day earlier than expected.

Elizabeth let them rattle on, thinking it was often best to just let children burn their high spirits off.

She wondered how she might manage her own children, and if said children might be more imminent than she has previously suspected.

She still did not know exactly what to think about Mr Darcy.

She and Jane had always believed they would only marry for the deepest love…

or at least deep affection and respect. She had no idea if she would come to love Mr Darcy in time or not.

He was obviously taking up firm residence in her head, so it seemed more likely than before.

The process was not as she envisioned. She had always believed love would grow from seeds of affection planted early and nurtured carefully.

It all seemed so simple: coincidence led to meeting, attraction led to acquaintance, then affection, understanding, comfort, and love in an orderly progression.

Of course, not being stupid, she knew that in the actual world, matrimony was often a matter of fortune, connexions, and situation, with love hardly a factor—but one could always hope.

Such thoughts occupied the rest of the afternoon until the sisters, along with Mr Collins, stuffed themselves into the Longbourn coach for the short trip to Meryton for the engagement.

Elizabeth thought she would have been just as happy staying home, but it mostly took the combined efforts of her, Jane, and Mary to keep the two youngest sisters somewhat in line. Some things never changed.