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Longbourn - Elizabeth

E lizabeth spent most of her time in her father’s room, reading to him and writing letters on his behalf.

As she sat by his bedside, her thoughts drifted unbidden to Mr Darcy.

She chided herself for these musings, reminding herself of her engagement to Mr Collins, yet couldn’t reconcile her growing regard for a man she once despised.

Mary and Jane insisted that she let them take over from time to time, so as not to have her become ill herself.

Elizabeth protested, saying she was not really giving up so much of her time as she would normally have been walking out, but that it was still too cold for long walks yet.

But her sisters were firm, where they felt they were right.

There were, of course, other demands on their time, their agreement not to let Kitty or Lydia out of the house without one of them as well was proving harder than they had thought it would, and had led to some rather irritated bickering on the younger girls’ side.

Kitty was much easier to work on then Lydia, and Elizabeth felt that after a few days she had begun to see an improvement in her.

Kitty was beginning to realise what it meant that her father was as ill as he was.

As the family gathered for breakfast, Elizabeth found herself without appetite. The knot of anxiety in her stomach, born from her conflicted emotions and uncertain future, seemed to leave no room for food.

Two letters from Mr Collins arrived a few days after their return, one for Elizabeth and the other, Mr Bennet.

He was to wait on them for almost three weeks, he was to leave on a Monday morning and arrive back in Kent on a Saturday afternoon, so as to inconvenience his noble patroness as little as possible. They were to expect him in a week.

“Oh, that is very good news indeed,” Mrs Bennet cried when Elizabeth told her.

“I must speak to Hill about getting some of the fish that he enjoyed so much while he was here before. Lydia, my love, ring the bell. We must settle all of the details for the wedding very quickly. Lizzy, you must tell your father you insist on marrying Mr Collins straight away.”

Mary surprised her sister by coming to her defence, “Mama, you know it would be better to wait until the summer. Father will be more himself by then. It will be much talked of, if he does not give Lizzy away.”

Mrs Bennet was not convinced. Jane, however, joined Mary in the defence of their sister. She spoke softly, “If his situation worsens we can arrange something, but he is not growing too much worse.”

“He will do better in the spring. We just need to wait until the spring,” Elizabeth said more to herself than to the others.

Mrs Bennet was silent as she looked from one to the other of her three eldest daughters.

“You are all determined on ruining us. At least Mr Darcy has not returned, for that would really ruin us all.”

“Shall we try that song again, Elizabeth?” Mary asked her, “I would like to play it at Lucas’ tomorrow evening.”

Elizabeth readily agreed, and they left the room, leaving Jane to try and reason with their mother.

Charlotte’s presence was missed at their dinner at Lucas Lodge. Elizabeth discovered from Charlotte’s younger sister Maria that she was not expected back in the country soon.

Elizabeth did miss her friend, so many things seemed to be changing about her. Her father would soon be taken from her, she would be joined hereafter with Mr Collins.

She did at least have the pleasure of seeing Mr Bingley almost rude to others in his continued attentions to her sister, for they were now almost always together. Jane was truly happy and for her sake Elizabeth tried to be happy as well.

Mr Bingley seemed to be looking for a chance to ask them to Netherfield, but without his sisters seemed unable to find a suitable reason for such an attention. Instead, they invited him to Longbourn, he accepted most readily.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile as she observed Jane and Mr Bingley together.

Her sister, typically so measured in her responses, seemed unable to hide her pleasure in his company.

The soft smiles, the lingering glances – all pointed to a depth of feeling that Elizabeth found both heartening and, given her own circumstances, a little envious.

It was the first time she had really been in conversation with Mr Wickham since learning the truth of his history. He seemed ready to distinguish her by those attentions that had marked the very early part of their acquaintance .

“I have not had a chance to speak with you since your return from London. You enjoyed London then?” he began, to which she only smiled.

“We haven’t had the chance to speak to you properly since before the ball at Netherfield,” he continued. “I am sorry I missed the pleasure of dancing with you there.”

“I believe that considering the events after the ball it is of little matter,” she replied at last.

“It was a surprise to hear of your engagement,” he was searching her eyes for something.

“My acquaintance with Mr Collins has certainly not been long, but I do not see the reason for the surprise. He is a very eligible young man.”

He smiled at this, “Yes, very eligible, but sometimes reason and sense do not always lead to a strong head or a passionate heart. Sometimes reason is best left aside.” His eyes were locked with hers, as if trying to make her understand his meaning.

“Without reason and sense, even the most sensible head and heart can very easily be led astray.”

“I had hoped – perhaps I say too much,” he paused, as if waiting for encouragement. “But I had hoped that you would not be as sensible as you appeared.”

“How so, Mr Wickham?”

“I have not enjoyed the company of any young lady as much as I have enjoyed yours.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, she knew not what, when he turned hurriedly from her, leaving her rather confused. Had he been implying what she thought he had been? No, it could not be.

Ever since she had heard Mr Darcy’s confession, her opinion of both gentlemen had changed.

She had been struck that Mr Wickham had told her his story, when he had barely known her and she had been surprised that she had not noticed this before.

But there was such an openness in his manner that she had found it hard not to believe him.

And her opinion of Mr Darcy had been so well formed with so little reason that it was no wonder that she had believed his story.

It was one thing to try and elope with a young lady who he must have been fond of in order to gain access to her future, but this was quite another.

No, she must have misunderstood his meaning.

He must have just been surprised at her engagement to Mr Collins and was expressing it.

She did, however, watch him out of the corner of her eye for the rest of the evening.

That night, Elizabeth tossed and turned, unable to find rest. Her mind raced with thoughts of Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham, leaving her exhausted yet unable to sleep.

In the intervening days between the Lucas Lodge dinner and Mr Collins’ arrival, Elizabeth tried to steal herself for what was to come. Yet, no amount of preparation seemed sufficient.

Mr Collins did arrive punctually and spent a great deal of the afternoon sitting with Mrs Bennet and her daughters.

They had thought it best not to tell him that Mr Bennet was seriously ill, that it was only a slight cold, as he was now so ill that they would not have been able to hide his illness to a house guest.

Mr Bennet, though weakened by his illness, managed to summon his characteristic wit when informed of Mr Collins’ arrival.

“I suppose we must endure his presence, Lizzy,” he said with a wry smile. “Though I daresay my current state might excuse me from too much of his company.”

Elizabeth could see the concern in her father’s eyes, poorly masked by his attempt at humour.

“I wish I were well enough to spare you from this.” The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, a reminder of the precarious situation that had led to Elizabeth’s engagement.

Mr Collins was delighted to see them all again and spoke at great length about how pleased Lady Catherine was by his choice of bride. He made no mention of having seen them in London or of Mr Darcy until they were on their own much later.

He smiled at Elizabeth, “Lady Catherine, my dear, has such Christian goodness of spirit that I am sure you will find her the very best of neighbours. Indeed, how could anyone think otherwise? And do not be alarmed, my dear Elizabeth, that she will be too hard on yourself about your little rebellion just after Christmas, Lady Catherine has declared that it will be quite forgotten after we are married, and of course, after Mr Darcy is married to her own daughter. For they will be married very soon.”

Elizabeth had taken up her work as soon as she could and tried to focus all of her attention on it, rather than on him.

Escaping Mr Collins’ tedious conversation, Elizabeth found herself comparing him unfavourably not just to Mr Darcy, but to Mr Wickham as well.

The realisation made her uncomfortable. How had she come to a place where her feelings for both men were so complex and contradictory?

She longed for the simplicity of her former judgments, when Mr Wickham was good, Mr Darcy proud, and her own heart not so treacherously confused.

Though Mr Bennet was too ill to leave his room, he insisted on being kept informed of Mr Collins’ visit.

“Tell me, Lizzy,” he said during one of their quiet moments together, “does the prospect of married life with our esteemed cousin improve upon closer acquaintance?”

His tone was light, but Elizabeth could see the worry etched in the lines of his face.