Page 8 of Ever After End

CHAPTER 7

M rs Bennet was planning a dinner in honour of Mr Collins, but on his third night in the neighbourhood, Mrs Lockhart sent a note inviting him to join their family’s invitation to Netherfield for a dinner party. Mr and Mrs Lockhart were a kind couple who added greatly to the tone of their neighbourhood. The gentleman had about seven thousand a year inherited from a maternal relation, was in his early thirties, and was hoping to purchase an estate one day in the not so distant future. Mrs Lockhart was perhaps six-and-twenty, of middling beauty and exceptional kindness, and a true friend and comfort to Elizabeth since she had won the lottery. Mr and Mrs Lockhart were well enough off not to require a handout of any sort, and the lady, so recently married and in possession of most of her greatest hopes, had no cause to be resentful of Elizabeth for any reason.

Mr and Mrs Lockhart had met under interesting circumstances. A matchmaking house party! No one in Meryton had ever heard of such a thing, nor were they certain such a thing could be proper, though Mrs Lockhart assured them that it was. Ever After End was an elegant manor with a romantic name, and placed within an hour’s journey of Bath. Owned by a Mrs Theodosia Darlington, it boasted an attractive summer’s entertainment amongst others whose primary desire was to find a person who wanted to wed.

“When there are twelve gentlemen and twelve ladies present, and each of them has paid fifty pounds to be among others who are actively searching for a mate, couples tend to pair up rather quickly!” giggled Mrs Lockhart. “And the chaperones, they are all reasonable people who are only there to lend their respectability to the activities. They are all rather eccentric, but none of them sit and gossip over the pairings, nor create expectations amongst the guests. Compromises are strictly not allowed. If you claim to have been compromised there, everyone will simply say you were lying and that it never happened. Everything is done respectably, but also with a great deal of consideration of all parties involved. Without feeling my mother and her friends hovering over me and supervising my courtship, it took no time at all to fall in love as much as I chose.”

“It sounds like heaven,” said Elizabeth. A courtship over which none of her relations, not even her aunt and uncle, could make her feel awkward? She had met a few tradesmen in London while visiting Gracechurch Street, and though her aunt meant well, her excitement over the attention they paid Elizabeth made her feel self-conscious, even if her aunt did not display such enthusiasm in company.

Mrs Bennet did not like the idea of the house parties in question at all. Her daughters had no need to pay such large sums of money to catch a man. Her Jane could not be so beautiful for nothing, and at least privately, Mrs Bennet occasionally acknowledged that her brother was correct, Lizzy could not be so clever for nothing, and had the family’s safety secured. And though Lizzy was not as beautiful as Jane, with such a sum, it was likely some man would wish to marry her. Mrs Bennet would have to be certain it was not a poor man who would need Lizzy’s house or Lizzy’s funds. And Mary ; Mary was looking very well lately, and as her second most clever daughter, Mrs Bennet had high hopes that she would catch Mr Collins, who wanted a clever wife, obviously to help him with his duties as master of Longbourn. Mrs Bennet had shared this hope with every other matron in the neighbourhood only the day before. No, her girls were well on their way to do well enough for themselves. They were quite above paying fifty pounds to find a husband.

After greeting their hosts, Elizabeth followed her family into the drawing room. Several rooms were opened up, and it appeared that Mrs Lockhart would encourage dancing amongst the younger guests later in the evening, and perhaps cards. Elizabeth had few close friends left in Meryton, but she was, unsurprisingly, very popular already among the officers, which did not help her difficulty with the local young ladies.

She soon found herself surrounded by three officers, and at least they did have some amusing conversation. Elizabeth did her best not to be too enthusiastic with the men, since she had already been accused of flirting outrageously by Charlotte Lucas and her sniping group of friends that Elizabeth used to call her own before she realised how cruel and resentful they all were.

“Lizzy, come and meet Lieutenant Wickham!” Lydia called from across the room. Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth rose and made her way to her sister before another scene was made. As the introductions were made, Elizabeth eyed the handsome man and wondered what had led him to go soldiering, a young man’s pursuit. Not that he was old, but he was obviously between twenty-seven and thirty years old. Most of the other new recruits were only twenty-one, or perhaps a year or two older. He must have been extremely out of pocket to join the militia at such an age. She had heard the stories of the low pay and discomfort suffered by the officers. No man so close to thirty would choose such a low position unless it were absolutely necessary.

It was certainly to his benefit to have joined the militia, for he was so handsome that his looks could only be improved by regimentals. The ladies in town would be wild over him, though Elizabeth was certain he had nothing with which to support a wife. She had learned to be cynical of men in recent weeks, and with good reason. Every man she had ever met had changed significantly in character since the news had arrived that she now had a fortune, except for her Uncles Gardiner and Phillips. She rejoiced that she had the two men to rely upon. Lydia and Kitty were lured away from their conversation by Captain Carter and Lieutenant Denny, and left quite alone in conversation, Elizabeth heard Mr Wickham’s sad life story in minutes.

The man had been born in Derbyshire, his parents had died, but he had once enjoyed the support of a caring godfather until the man died a year or two after his majority, and the man’s son had refused the bequest left in his will.

“How positively indecent!” Elizabeth exclaimed, wondering why Lieutenant Wickham was telling her such private matters. “Why would you not have sought assistance from the law?”

“Ah, there was just such an informality in the terms as to give me no hope from the law,” answered Mr Wickham morosely. “A man of honour could not have doubted the intent, but Mr Darcy chose to do so, and thus has deprived me of my due.”

“Has he any other family?” asked Elizabeth, unsure what else to say.

“His sister is an elegant young lady of about fifteen or sixteen, and I am told he is cried up as the best and kindest of brothers, but I fear he has ruined poor Miss Darcy,” the gentleman said. “I met her not long ago in Ramsgate and she has grown just like him; very, very proud and spoiled. I was grieved indeed. My godfather would have been heartbroken to see her thus.”

Being possessed of four sisters, Elizabeth did not take kindly to those who spoke poorly of the characters of girls who were possibly only silly and young, and worse, not present to defend themselves. However, in the last weeks, she had also learned not to anger men or embarrass them. They were all frightful beasts with dreadful tempers, or at least that is what she had recently observed while making her recent refusals. She was beginning to be sometimes grateful that she had won something. Even if all of her friends were going to be resentful of her, even if Elizabeth partly still hoped to fall in love one day, at least she could avoid being married to some beastly man with a temper if she chose .

The dinner was an absolute misery for Elizabeth. Her younger sisters were loud and vulgar, and her mother did nothing but complain incessantly that Jane was not clever enough for Mr Collins, and of her hopes for Mary. Mr Bennet sat back watching her and the others. Elizabeth knew that he knew his three eldest were embarrassed, and he thought it was funny. Elizabeth did not know how she had ever believed that she had been special to him, that he had cared for her more somehow, than he had for her sisters.

After dinner, Elizabeth helped Mrs Lockhart pass out cups of tea, and the instrument was opened. Mary good-naturedly agreed to play something sprightly, and the young people, led excitedly by Lydia and Kitty, began to line up and dance.

Captain Carter came over during the second set. “May I have the pleasure, Miss Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth smiled at the officer. He was not so impertinent as the others, but she did not wish to give the men any encouragement tonight. “Thank you, Captain, but I will not dance this evening.” It was a shame, Elizabeth dearly loved to dance, and even though she was not at all interested in the officers as marital prospects, they were, at least, charming partners. But since her good fortune, she could not dance with anyone without creating malicious gossip.

“Elizabeth, this is a new blend of tea, you must try it with a slice of orange,” interrupted Mrs Lockhart. She knew that Elizabeth had been feeling excessively overwhelmed by the lavish attention she had endured recently. “Captain, would you also like a cup?”

After the guests had all been served their tea, or for some of the older guests, port, Elizabeth and her friend sat in a corner for a few minutes to discuss the evening. “We have decided that we shall not purchase Netherfield,” Mrs Lockhart shared with her.

“So soon?” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Why, you have not been here a whole quarter! The neighbourhood must be as abominable as it seems to me just now, if you have decided against it so quickly.”

“Not at all, my dear friend, the area requires only your company to delight us at all times, though I sense we are not to enjoy it for too many more months,” her friend insisted. “We recently received word that an estate near Mr Lockhart’s home, that he knows very well, has become available. The idea of making an offer pleased him so much, I could hardly object.”

“Of course not!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Congratulations, Abigail. I hope you and Mr Lockhart will be very happy there. What is the place called?”

“Evesham,” answered her friend. “It is in the north, perhaps five miles from a great estate called Matlock. Nicholas is well acquainted with the earl and countess who live there. I shall depend upon you to visit me when I am settled. Jane as well.”

“I am certain we shall both be delighted!” exclaimed Elizabeth. “You are correct, I plan to live with my uncle in London when I reach my majority.”

“Must you wait that long?” asked Mrs Lockhart.

“If I attempt to go months earlier, the younger girls and my mother will likely cause a fuss that I am always favoured with good fortune and my uncle’s attention,” said Elizabeth. “My mother will fuss so much that my father, who will understand why I am hiding away in London, might forbid me to go in order to restore peace. My uncle would probably come to remove me if that occurred, and he would most likely be successful, but I do not wish to begin such hostilities with my father or mother. I will wait until I have every right to go, and just keep to myself until then.”

“Well if it becomes too difficult for you, I shall feign an illness, and beg you to come and nurse me. Think of the fun we would have here, avoiding all the matrons that come clucking each day!” Mrs Lockhart was a bit young to fall in with most of Meryton’s matrons, yet just old enough that the company of many of the younger ladies was slightly too immature for her. She got along with Elizabeth and Jane very well, and had also liked Charlotte Lucas a great deal too before she had defected from Elizabeth’s supporters.

Elizabeth smiled and shook her head at her friend’s high spirits. Abigail Lockhart and her husband Nicholas were estimable people who raised the tone of the neighbourhood just by residing there. It was a shame that they would not remain, though Elizabeth took heart that their friendship would endure the separation.

Just as Elizabeth turned back to sweep an eye over her sisters, a loud cry came from the next room. Elizabeth and their hostess followed several others to the doorway, where, in the middle of a group of dancers stood Charlotte Lucas, her hair falling down, and the front of her dress hanging from where the seam had ripped in the shoulder and sleeve. Mr Collins stood before her in shock. Charlotte burst into tears and fled from the room, followed by her mother and sister.

“I do not understand what happened,” said Mr Collins in confusion. “I was not even touching her.”

“What are you saying about my sister?” demanded John Lucas angrily.

“I am not saying anything about your sister,” said Collins. “I am only confused because the dance had parted us, and I do not understand how she fell.”

“Bennet, my father is an affable man, but our family will protect our sister,” said Lucas aggressively, turning to Thomas Bennet, who had just entered the room with some of the other men who had been playing cards. “Your cousin will not be permitted to ruin Charlotte.”

“Mr Lucas, this is not the proper time or place for such a conversation,” answered Bennet reasonably. “My cousin and I will call upon your father after breakfast tomorrow, as is proper. For now, I think it is time for my family to depart.” Bennet left to call for his carriage, as Elizabeth and Jane began to herd their younger sisters and mother to the hall. As they departed, Elizabeth caught a glimpse of Charlotte in the hall, covered by her father’s coat and accompanied by her mother.

Elizabeth had known Charlotte Lucas her entire life, and she knew when her friend was distressed or frightened. The expression upon her old friend’s face had been neither of those emotions. Charlotte Lucas was triumphant.