Page 1 of Hidden Desires
ELIZABTH SAT BY THE WINDOW, a folded letter resting in her hand. Though the morning sunlight warmed the room, she felt none of its comfort. Her gaze lingered on the familiar script, so careful and precise, as if Charlotte feared a single error might betray her true feelings.
Jane set aside her needlework and studied her sister’s expression. “Does she write of her new home?”
Elizabeth nodded without looking up.
Mrs. Bennet, who had been sorting a basket of ribbons, glanced over. “And what does she have to say for herself? I suppose she must be pleased with her fine parsonage and all the consequence she has gained.”
“She writes that she is content,” Elizabeth said, her voice quiet. “She thanks me again for declining Mr. Collins’s offer. She believes it spared us both a great deal of discomfort.”
Mrs. Bennet sniffed. “Content. I daresay she is. She has secured her future and thinks herself clever for doing it. While I must remain here, hoping you will all think better of your foolish scruples before this house is taken from me.”
“Mama—” Jane began, but Mrs. Bennet lifted a hand.
“No, I will speak my mind. You may think it harsh, but you cannot imagine what it is to live under the threat of losing one’s home.
Charlotte may pretend her situation is no triumph, but she will never fear the poorhouse.
She will never wonder how her children are to be fed when their father is gone. ”
Elizabeth said nothing, knowing no answer would soothe her mother’s distress.
“If you had accepted Mr. Collins, odious as he is, all this worry would be behind us. But no—your pride would not allow it. And so I must endure Lady Lucas’s smug satisfaction and listen to her speak of the changes she will make once your father is gone.
No doubt she spends her evenings planning my eviction. ”
“Believe me,” came a voice from the doorway, “I have no intention of leaving this life anytime soon. Though if I thought it would spare me these lamentations, I might be tempted to consider it.”
Mr. Bennet entered the room, his expression touched with amusement. “I see Mrs. Bennet is rehearsing her favorite tragedy. Has she reached the part where she is cast into the streets, forced to beg for bread while Charlotte looks on in triumph?”
Mrs. Bennet drew herself up with wounded dignity. “You may mock me if it pleases you, but the day will come when you regret treating this matter as a jest. Perhaps then you will remember that I warned you, and that none of you cared to listen.”
Mr. Bennet gave a solemn nod. “I shall look forward to that day from the peace of my grave, where I trust even your complaints will not reach me. Though I suppose I ought not to underestimate your determination.”
Mrs. Bennet pressed a hand to her breast. “It is no jest to me. You may laugh if you please, but one day you will see that I was right to be concerned.”
Mr. Bennet inclined his head with grave courtesy. “I have no doubt you will remind me, should I be so fortunate as to witness my own funeral.”
Elizabeth suppressed a smile, though she knew she ought not encourage them.
Mrs. Bennet turned her gaze on her second eldest, her voice softening just enough to sound injured rather than scolding. “You may laugh with your father if you choose, Lizzy, but I hope you will remember whose future is most at risk when you refuse such offers.”
Mr. Bennet glanced at Elizabeth and gave a faint sigh. “You will forgive us, my dear. Your mother and I have rehearsed this scene so many times that we forget it has an audience.”
He spread his hands in a gesture of truce. “Shall we call an end to it for today? Even the finest performances must conclude before the actors weary themselves.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, but Lydia and Kitty burst into the room in a flutter of bright ribbons and restless energy. Mary trailed behind them, her expression resigned, as though she had been caught up in their wake against her better judgment.
Unlike their elder sisters, the youngest Bennets never rose before noon unless compelled. Their sudden appearance hinted at some scheme, and Elizabeth knew it would soon declare itself.
Mr. Bennet stepped aside to let them pass. “The household’s most spirited pair,” he observed, “and the third who reads enough sermons to keep you in line—if only you would listen.”
“We grew tired of sitting about,” Lydia announced. “The weather is beautiful, the sun is out, the road is clear, and there is nothing to keep us indoors, so Kitty and I thought we would walk to Meryton.”
Though Lydia spoke with an air of innocence, Elizabeth recognized it for the pretense it was.
Lydia, determined to secure the admiration of every officer in the county, spoke of the regiment in Meryton with unrestrained delight.
In her imagination, the town teemed with gallant young men ready to duel for the honor of escorting her home, and no argument had yet shaken her conviction that she deserved such attention.
Elizabeth knew her father understood the true aim of these outings: liberty to wander Meryton with nothing to temper her excitement.
Mr. Bennet said nothing as he watched his youngest squirm, waiting for his answer.
At last, when it seemed she might burst from anticipation, he spoke.
“Ah, Meryton,” he said, folding his arms. “Where the regiment waits to be admired. Tell me, do you intend to throw yourselves at the handsome young men, with nary a thought for the shame it brings your sisters?”
He lifted a hand before Lydia could object and continued. “You may go, but only if Elizabeth is with you. If Jane chooses to join you, so much the better. With her along, I need not worry about the damage you will do to the family reputation the moment you enter the town.”
Lydia opened her mouth to protest, but her objection died at the implacable resolve on her father’s face.
“I think we should ask your sister,” Bennet said, turning to Elizabeth. “Do you wish to spend a few hours chasing your impudent sisters through Meryton?”
Elizabeth studied them in silence. The insolence that had troubled their parents since childhood danced in Lydia’s eyes.
That same spirit had led their mother to abandon any attempt at discipline, leaving the thankless task to her father.
Kitty wore her usual placid expression, content to follow wherever Lydia chose to lead.
A visit to Meryton promised nothing but vexation, as Lydia would not restrain herself and Kitty would never think to interfere.
She considered refusing, for there were better ways to spend the day than shepherding them through town, especially when she had so little patience left to spare.
As she drew breath to decline, though, she caught sight of Mary, watching with the tight-lipped disapproval she wore in nearly every family discussion.
Elizabeth drew a steadying breath. “I will take them,” she said, to Kitty’s evident delight. Lydia’s smile faded as Elizabeth turned her gaze on her. “But only if Mary agrees to come.”
“You have no need of my company,” Mary replied, folding her hands with an air of wounded virtue. “The sinful pursuits in Meryton disgust me, and I have no wish to endure my sisters’ misguided notions of amusement.”
“Why must she come?” Lydia demanded, her voice rising to a plaintive whine. “She does nothing but scold us for every sin she imagines, real or otherwise. According to her, even breathing is a moral failing. It is tiresome to be lectured at every turn.”
“Either the two of you behave yourselves, or I will see that Papa knows every detail when we return. Do you understand?”
She fixed her gaze on Lydia, who shifted her weight and gave a grudging nod.
“But I do not like going to Meryton,” Mary insisted, shaking her head with renewed vigor. “I tire of Lydia’s constant persecution and cannot see the sense in wasting an afternoon in her company when I could spend it on something worthwhile.”
“Spending an afternoon with your sisters will do you no harm,” Mr. Bennet said, his tone mild but leaving no room for debate. “Take the opportunity to leave your books behind; you might discover the world is broader than your sermons.”
“I have no wish to discover it,” Mary replied, “because I know exactly what I will find.”
“Come with us,” Elizabeth urged. “We can look at the fashions in the shop windows or the bonnets at the milliner’s. She lets me try them on and I like to pretend, just for a moment, that they are mine.”
Lydia rolled her eyes. “Imagine her in one of them. She is so dowdy she could make the finest cap look shabby.”
Kitty snickered, and Lydia’s laughter soon followed.
Mary lowered her head, her face flushing as she pressed her lips together.
Elizabeth felt her heart twist. She had too often watched Mary suffer these jests in silence, and though her sister tried to hide the hurt they caused, it lingered in her expression long after the laughter faded.
“Enough!” Mr. Bennet thundered. His voice filled the room, cutting off the last trace of laughter. “I have warned you before that I will not tolerate this unkindness. If you cannot treat her with respect, you will remain home while they go without you.”
“Let me remind you,” he continued, his voice low and sharp, “you leave this house only with my permission. If you hope to step off this estate, change your ways at once. Do I make myself clear, or shall I plan your afternoon for you? There is no end of things I can find to keep you busy. Mrs. Hill mentioned weeds in the flowerbeds, and the scullery maids would welcome help with the laundry.”
Silence settled over the group as Bennet waited for an argument. When none came, he nodded.
“Mary is your sister and deserves your love and respect, not this constant mockery.” With that, he turned on his heel, offered Elizabeth an affectionate wink, and left the girls to themselves.