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Longbourn - Elizabeth

J ane had written a quick note to Mr Bingley to let him know what had happened.

They had not seen Mr Collins since Lady Catherine had left the house.

Mrs Gardiner was heading into Meryton to speak to Mr Philips on Elizabeth’s behalf.

They had decided it would be best for Elizabeth herself not to go, as she would need to speak to Mr Collins on his return.

After discussing it for some time they decided that Mr Collins must have realised that they had overheard at least Lady Catherine’s part of the conversation and that they would require some explanation to what they had overheard.

Mrs Bennet would not agree to any of this. “Lizzy must marry Mr Collins,” she said over and over again with the occasional “my poor dear Lydia.”

Mary and Kitty sat with her in her room. Which left Jane and Elizabeth to wait for Mr Collins to return. They were sitting in the smaller sitting room with the door open so that they would see him when he re-entered the house. The conversation soon returned to Lydia and those trying to recover her.

“The express must have been sent last night.” Jane said, “Which would mean that they would have tried whatever it was that they were planning last night.”

“That does not help us.” Elizabeth sighed, looking out of the window at the driveway. There was not a soul in sight and it was still raining. “Either they will send another express or they will come themselves. With Papa’s funeral tomorrow afternoon, they need to arrive tomorrow before midday.”

“It means we do not have to wait as long for news.”

“If Lydia is not with them, questions will be asked about why she is not at the funeral.”

“I believe my uncle will do everything he can to bring her home,” Jane said gently. She paused for a moment, tilting her head slightly to the side, before continuing, “It was fortunate that Mr Darcy was with him was it not?”

They had not discussed Mr Darcy at all, but it seemed to Elizabeth that Jane had seen more than she had disclosed.

“It was very fortunate.”

Kitty came down to them about half an hour later, Mrs Bennet had fallen asleep.

“Mrs Gardiner should be back soon.” Jane said.

She had managed to continue with her work, while Elizabeth had tossed hers aside more than once and then taken it up again.

She did not seem to be able to settle for anything.

This was when she would have normally gone for a walk, but in this weather there was no chance of that.

They were trying to finish the dresses for Mr Bennet’s funeral.

It was dull work, not trimmings or finery, merely serviceable dresses.

Mrs Bennet’s, Lydia’s and Mary’s had all been completed.

Jane was just putting the finishing touches to the hem of Kitty’s, Elizabeth still had a lot to do on her own and Jane’s had hardly been started.

Mary had done quite a lot of Mrs Bennet’s and her own.

Kitty had started her own and Lydia’s dresses, but Jane had taken over.

Kitty crossed to the window and settled in her preferred seat by it, a bonnet in her hands with some black ribbon she was meant to be trimming it with, but she made very little progress, since her attention was almost entirely taken up by watching the driveway and lawns through the rain-streaked window.

The next half an hour passed in almost complete silence.

She was so still that Elizabeth thought she had fallen asleep. But it seemed she was mistaken.

“A carriage!” Kitty said suddenly. Elizabeth rushed to the window to join Kitty, only to see their own carriage coming down the driveway.

“It is just our aunt returning,” she said, sinking back onto the cushions.

“I am sure we will receive news from them soon,” Jane said gently as she started putting away her work. “They would not be here yet if they had left London at first light.”

“Our aunt will have news.” Kitty said as she settled down again by the window, clearly determined to remain by it.

They didn’t have long to wait before Mrs Gardiner came into the room. Water was still dripping from her clothes.

“Lizzy, come here my dear.” She said as she sat down by the fire, “Jane dear, would you ring for some tea and maybe a little chicken broth?”

Elizabeth settled down next to her aunt while Jane rang the bell for Hill.

Mrs Gardiner inquired about if they had seen Mr Collins and after receiving a negative answer and waiting for Hill to leave the room again she began in earnest.

Mr Phillips thought that they had the beginnings of a good case of Breach of Promise, but that they should be careful about it.

No one had heard Mr Collins himself say anything about marrying anyone but Elizabeth, only Lady Catherine had been in the room when he had mentioned Miss Smith.

And she was not likely to be someone they were acquainted with, or she would know of the engagement between Mr Collins and Elizabeth.

Not that there were any families in the neighbourhood called Smith, or at least not any families that they would have dinner with.

There were a few local farmers by the name of Smith, a family on the Lucas estate, another who lived in Meryton and Mr Philips was sure that there were others.

They were interrupted not long after by the arrival of Mr Bingley-of Mr Collins there was still no sign.

Jane drew him aside to explain in more detail what had happened.

He had very little in the way of news to add, other than that he had had a very short letter from Mr Darcy, which did not contain any more news.

Kitty’s dress finished, Jane picked up Elizabeth’s and undid some of the work her sister had done over the course of the afternoon and began to redo it.

Dinner was an almost silent affair, with the entire party listening for the sound of a carriage outside, or a footstep in the hall.

Mr Collins had still not returned. They returned to the drawing room after dinner to continue waiting.

The roads would be bad by this point, with the rain continuing to fall, they all agreed.

Mr Gardiner, Lydia and Mr Darcy would have to be travelling slower than they would otherwise have done so, was the general consensus.

It mattered not if they arrived tonight or tomorrow morning.

If they had stopped at an inn on the road, as seemed likely given the weather, they would only arrive tomorrow.

Even an express rider would have been delayed on the road.

So there was no need for the entire party to stay up late. Even if Lizzy and Jane’s dresses were not yet finished. The ladies would just finish the dresses and then go to bed.

* * *

On the Road to Longbourn - Lydia

Lydia was cold and hungry, as she sat in the carriage.

More than a little annoyed. She had been having a ball for a time.

Mr Wickham had been very charming-there was something wonderful about having a handsome young man paying her the sort of attention he had been.

Listening to her in the same sort of way that young men often listened to Lizzy.

Sitting next to him in the carriage, holding his hand without gloves on.

Then of course there was the kissing. Oh it was too heavenly, though of course it took a little practice. But that was really fun as well.

They had spoken about running off for a couple of weeks, that he would come to Longbourn when all the rest were asleep.

They would disappear for an hour or two until she would have to go back for breakfast, or her sisters would notice she had been missing.

She had not even told Kitty. He had made her promise.

It was all so exciting, having a secret of her very own.

If Lizzy could carry on with Mr Darcy while she was engaged then she, Lydia, could have Mr Wickham all to herself.

She had worried once or twice that he was only using her to try and get closer to Lizzy, asking about her habit of walking out, where she went. But Lizzy did not seem at all interested in her dear Wickham, George, any longer.

On the morning of Lizzy and Mr Collins’ wedding, she had meant to meet him.

But just as she had been sneaking out of the back door she had heard Wickham’s voice.

Mr Darcy was standing not ten feet away from Wickham, but he didn’t seem to have seen him.

Mr Darcy appeared to be unwell, for he was unsteady on his feet.

Lydia realised with a jolt of surprise that he must have been drinking heavily.

She couldn’t hear what was said, just that Mr Darcy tried to take a swing at Wickham, she had begun to rush forward, and then she realised just how drunk Mr Darcy was when he almost fell over.

Wickham just laughed at him and said something else, all she could hear were the names Elizabeth and Georgiana.

This seemed to make Mr Darcy even angrier for he took another swing at Wickham who dodged and then punched Darcy squarely in the eye.

Lydia had gasped. Wickham, hearing the noise, had turned and disappeared from sight.

Lydia, ignoring Mr Darcy, had run after Wickham.

When she returned ten or fifteen minutes later he was gone.

She had not thought about that strange encounter since it had happened.

Wickham had started to explain, but they had ended up kissing and she could not remember what he had said. She missed now she had paid more attention, it might have explained her current situation a little more clearly.

The day her father had died, she had sent him a note that she was ready.

They had left not long after. It was a simple matter to get rid of Kitty and Sarah.

Really black was not at all flattering, and who ever thought that it was a good idea to go into mourning wearing black?

She would look like a widow, she was much too young and pretty to be a widow!

It had all been so exciting, going to London without any of her family.

They had stopped once on the road to get some tea and something to eat.

Before arriving at an inn in a part of London she had never been to.

Wickham had assured her that it was only for a few days and while he got his affairs together and then they would be married and be able to move somewhere nicer.

She was not worried about all of that, it was much too fun to worry about such things.

She had never stayed at an inn without having to share a room with Kitty and often with Mary as well.

There was something very nice about being the only lady in the party and only the two of them-it made things so much easier.

Travelling as the Bennets did with all seven of them and often the Gardiners and at least two maids and the Gardiners’ children as well.

It made the whole thing very cramped-this was much better.

Of course they had not stayed very long at the inn, Mr Wickham declared that they had to move to another inn when she had just been about to finish her toilette.

So they had moved to another smaller inn.

And so it had been for the next few days, she would begin to settle down in the new inn and then they would need to move onto the next one.

The kisses and caresses were much fewer and further between.

He had promised her that they would finish what he had started on the burn at Longbourn a few days ago, but he did not.

Wickham also seemed to be drinking more and more and becoming more distracted and less interested in her.

He would sit in the inn with a bottle of brandy or a mug of ale watching the door as if expecting someone to rush in at any moment.

She had been telling him how terrible it had been the night her father had died, how little anyone had considered her feelings.

How Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy had been so attentive to Jane and Lizzy.

But even Kitty had not been interested in listening to her or consoling her.

By the time she had finished telling him, he had drunk the entire bottle of brandy and could hardly stand.

Her advantage was truly over, she thought sadly as she sat in Mr Darcy’s carriage looking out of the window at the rain-soaked countryside, her uncle sitting across from her, looking much more serious than normal.

She glanced at Mr Darcy, he looked even more serious and disagreeable than usual.

She could just make out the outline of the bruise, just below his left eye, where Wickham had hit him, nearly a week ago now. It had faded but was there.

It was cold in the carriage and she was not as warmly dressed as she would have been normally.

But they had rushed her out so fast it was a wonder that she had been able to take a cloak with her at all.

She pulled it closer to her, trying to keep the cold out, her breath turning to mist before her eyes.

She asked again if they could not stop for the night.

She received the same polite slightly-strained answer as the last three times she had asked.

With a sigh she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

She must have fallen asleep the next thing she knew her uncle was shaking her gently, “Lydia, we are here.”