Page 32 of Look on the Heart (Darcy and Elizabeth Variations #10)

Chapter Seventeen

Though she strove to maintain a cheerful demeanor, Elizabeth found the holiday season tinged with gray.

It became increasingly difficult to endure the general happiness surrounding her.

Jane and Mr. Bingley, particularly, were absorbed in one another.

Their love, so evident and unguarded, served only to remind Elizabeth of Mr. Darcy, and she therefore began avoiding her sister whenever Mr. Bingley was present.

The Bennets spent Twelfth Night with the Lucas family.

Mr. Collins had returned, and his wedding to Charlotte was to take place on the ninth of January.

They would return to Kent immediately following the wedding breakfast. Elizabeth’s cousin pontificated at length on the generosity of his noble patroness, who had condescended to lend him the use of one of her lesser carriages to convey his bride to the parsonage.

Charlotte bore it all with composure, the contentment of her situation written plainly upon her countenance.

“Thank you, my dear friend,” Charlotte said to Elizabeth when they had a moment in private.

“I know it seems a foolish choice to you, but I am truly happy. Mr. Collins is a good man, albeit a little nonsensical. I shall be well cared for and will have a home of my own at last. ’Tis all I have longed for these many years.

” She leaned closer and whispered, “Papa has been exceedingly generous with my wedding clothes. It pleases him to have a daughter married at long last.” Her cheeks flushed.

“I believe he wants grandchildren.” Charlotte had three younger brothers, all of marrying age, who remained unattached.

Maria and two other young boys were also still at home.

Elizabeth forced a smile. “Perhaps your example will encourage your brother John to marry at last.” The heir to Lucas Lodge assisted in the management of the estate but had shown no inclination to find a bride.

Elizabeth absently touched a bracelet on her wrist, her thoughts straying once more to Mr. Darcy.

“I am happy for you,” she said after a pause.

“If anyone can make a sensible man of Mr. Collins, ’Tis you. ”

Charlotte grinned. “Yes, I think so. His devotion to Lady Catherinehis patroness must first shift to me. I will not compete with a woman who holds no claim to my husband’s name.” She grimaced. “He speaks excessively of her—it grows wearisome.”

They laughed together, and Elizabeth’s heart lightened. Charlotte reached out and took her hand. “You will stand up with me, will you not?” she asked. “I do not wish for any other.”

“What about Maria?” Elizabeth felt surprised to be so favored. “She is sixteen—”

“—And has no wish to accept the honor.” Charlotte pulled a face.

“She claims she is too timid to have so many eyes upon her. Mama assured her that it would be Mr. Collins and I who would be the objects of attention, yet Maria would not be moved.” Her earrings danced as she shook her head.

“Thus, I must appeal to you! There is no one more fitting, for ’tTis through you my happiness has been secured. ”

Elizabeth sighed with exaggerated gravity. “Well, if you must insist…” She winked, and Charlotte released her hand to embrace her. She returned the gesture with warmth, grateful for her dear friend.

“Mr. Collins beckons,” inclining her head toward her betrothed. “We shall speak later.” Charlotte departed, weaving her way through the guests until she reached the parson’s side.

Elizabeth found herself alone once more. Rubbing her gloved hand up and down her arm, she drew her shawl more tightly about her and moved toward the edge of the room.

The Gardiners had returned to London shortly after Christmas. Elizabeth would go to them after Charlotte’s wedding, conveyed in her father’s carriage. Mary, too, would accompany her, and together they would enjoy the London season. I shall forget him, Elizabeth thought. ’Tis only a matter of time.

“Lizzy?” Jane peeked into Elizabeth’s chamber, her hair plaited and hanging over one shoulder, her night gown, soft and well-worn trailing along the floor as she entered. “May I speak with you?”

Elizabeth looked up from the book she was reading while reclining in bed. “Come in,” she said, placing a ribbon neatly between the pages and closing the volume. “I had just finished the chapter.”

“Heaven forbid I interrupt you!” Jane giggled, shutting the door behind her. “Would you have read on, had I not come?”

“Of course!” Elizabeth shifted and patted the bed beside her. “What brings you here after our late night at Lucas Lodge?” She thought she knew. Jane was no dull creature—surely, she had noticed her favorite sister was keeping her distance.

“Tell me why you are sad.” Jane rested her head against Elizabeth’s. “I am not blind. Though Mr. Bingley occupies much of my time, I can see you are avoiding me. Will you not tell me what has happened? Have I offended you?” she asked with genuine concern.

Elizabeth hastened to reassure her. “No, it is not you. I promise—the fault lies entirely with me. Or rather, my distress bears no relation to you or Mr. Bingley.” She sighed heavily. “I have suffered a…disappointment,” she murmured, her words scarcely audible.

“A disappointment?” Jane echoed, puzzled.

“Who?” After a pause, she said, “Ah, Mr. Darcy. I knew you were friendly with the gentleman, but I had no notion that he had touched your heart.” She wrapped her arm around her sister.

“And now he is gone. Oh! That is why you asked Charles if he knew when—or if—he would return. I am so sorry, dearest.”

Tears welled and began to fall as Elizabeth recounted all that had passed between her and the gentleman from Derbyshire.

“And then he left—without a word! What am I to think?” Sniffing, she accepted the handkerchief Jane offered and dabbed at her eyes.

“I want to hate him for treating me so abominably, but I cannot. I still love him.”

“And so you and Mary will flee to London and spend the season with our aunt. You mean to forget him, do you not? Does our sister know?”

Elizabeth chuckled and nodded. “She is more observant than you might suppose. Did you know Mr. Collins proposed to her, and she refused? She asked for my help, and I redirected his attentions to Charlotte.” She quickly explained Mary’s distaste for their cousin, and her reluctance to be matched to him simply because she was plainer than her sisters.

“It has worked out for the best. Charlotte has promised our family a home should our father die, and in return, she will marry and gain a home of her own. Is it not wonderful?”

“I am very glad it turned out so well. You will enjoy your time with Mary. London is full of delights. Perhaps I shall join you—if Mr. Bingley proposes.”

“You mean when , do you not?” Elizabeth nudged her sister.

“He is smitten—any fool could see it! I give you another month—at the most—before he is down on one knee.” She ran her hand over the coverlet, brushing away a pang that stirred beneath her calm.

Oh, how she had hoped to be in the same situation with Mr. Darcy!

Jane laughed lightly. “Yes, I cannot mistake his ardor.” She leaned forward and kissed Elizabeth’s brow. “You will find the same happiness. Lizzy, I must ask—may I share your disappointment with Mr. Bingley? Perhaps he will have some insight into his friend’s behavior.”

“Yes, of course.” Elizabeth waved a hand, feigning indifference, though the thought of another knowing her sorrow stung a little.

“Remember, Jane, Mr. Darcy made me no promises—not truly.” The words were not quite false, yet neither were they wholly true.

He had spoken nothing explicitly, but in Elizabeth’s mind, his honor had been engaged.

I shall not mourn him, she told herself.

“You may believe that if it gives you comfort.” Jane frowned.

“He has wounded my dearest sister—ruined your happiness, perhaps forever! You love deeply, just as I do. If Mr. Bingley had abandoned me, leaving me to the derision of our neighbors and disappointed hopes, I do not believe I could love again.” Jane touched Elizabeth’s cheek, then slipped from the bed. “All will be well.”

“I pray it will be so. “Good night, Jane.”

Her sister returned the sentiment and left the room, leaving Elizabeth to her thoughts. Feeling unequal to reading, she extinguished the candle and turned onto her side, drawing the coverlet to her chin. Perhaps I shall find relief in my dreams.

January 9, 1812

Elizabeth waved as the carriage bearing the newly wedded Collinses trundled away.

Before boarding, Charlotte had embraced her and whispered, “I hope you will come to me in the spring, Eliza. I wish to show you my new home, and a lady’s company would be most welcome.

Father and Maria will travel in March—they could collect you at the Gardiners’.

You need not stay until summer—six weeks, perhaps, and then you might return to town for the rest of the season. ”

After assuring her friend she would pose the request to her aunt, Elizabeth had stepped back, allowing others to say their farewells. Now, the carriage rounded a bend and disappeared.

“Lizzy, will you ride back to Longbourn with me and Mr. Bingley? Mary will come, too.” Jane raised her brows, her meaning clear—she and her suitor wished to have a private word with her.

“Yes, of course.” Elizabeth gathered her things and waited with her sisters and Mr. Bingley. Once seated inside the gentleman’s carriage, he cleared his throat and began.