Page 35

The continuous days of rain and grey skies belied the newspaper banner listing the date as late March.

Despite the weather, signs of spring were visible from the windows in the Longbourn parlour; everyone could see the new green leaves on the trees, and the sheep grazed on new grass in the pasture.

None of the family noticed, but there were afternoons when Elizabeth took her sewing from the parlour to the solitude of her room; these were the times when her thoughts turned to Mr Darcy.

To escape from her family for an hour, Elizabeth spoke of desiring a nap and retreated above stairs to her bedchamber. Alone, she chided herself when her thoughts turned toward a particular man once again. ‘What makes Mr Darcy different from the other men I have met?’

Elizabeth thought of Samuel Goulding, a pleasant young man and neighbour she had known her entire life.

There was no comparison and when she struggled with her feelings she admitted, ‘Samuel is not Mr Darcy with his stare and sharp mind. But how have I allowed the man to overwhelm my thoughts as this one has?’

In her mind, his image appeared tall, with black hair. It was as if his blue eyes stared into her soul. She blushed as she remembered the fire that was ignited when their hands touched while dancing at Netherfield.

She glanced at the line of trees in the distance and thought, ‘Jane says that the fire of love consumes her and Charles, but she does not fear it. What if Mr Darcy does not feel the same fire? Will I burn and blow away like the cinders from the fireplace?’

Elizabeth stood and shook her head to dispel her thoughts. ‘I shall not gather wool and cloud my mind needlessly. There are songs to practice on the instrument in the parlour, and Mary will play a duet with me if I ask.’

Leaving her bedchamber, the young woman walked down the stairs with a new purpose.

Mr Bennet noticed that his daughter returned to the parlour after only fifteen minutes for her ‘nap.’ He wondered what troubled Lizzy but said nothing to his wife or other daughters, choosing to continue to observe silently.

~~~

At lunch the next day, Mr Bennet received the post from Mr Hill, and after sorting the letters, he handed one to his second daughter. “Lizzy, you have a letter.”

Mrs Bennet asked, “Who is writing to you, Lizzy? Is it Mrs Gardiner?”

“Mamma, allow me to open the letter and discover who has written,” replied Elizabeth while her mother motioned for the young woman to be about reading the letter. It only took a moment to see the signature on the bottom of the page, and she announced, “The letter is from Charlotte Collins.”

Instantly, Mrs Bennet demanded, “What does that woman want? Does she ask after your father’s health?”

However, Elizabeth did not reply while reading the letter.

Only when she completed the letter, did she reply to her mother’s question by saying, “Charlotte writes that the parsonage is a pleasant home and the tenants around the parsonage labour industriously on their farms. She has met none of the members of the gentry in the area, but Lady Catherine is most helpful with advice.”

“Does married life agree with Charlotte?” asked Mary. “Do Mr and Mrs Collins enjoy their honeymoon after three months?”

“No,” replied Elizabeth, as she kept her attention on the page in front of her. “Mr Collins overspent his income, and they live with little tea and butter. But she has invited me to visit for the month of April.”

“Visit! With that wanton woman and her husband? I shall not have it!” Mrs Bennet declared. “No doubt, Mrs Collins will inquire about the silver and the linens at Longbourn and plan the day she becomes mistress here!”

“Mamma, Charlotte is very familiar with our silver, and she has helped us mend our table linens several times,” Kitty reminded Mrs Bennet.

Lydia giggled and said, “Lizzy can bake bread for Charlotte Collins and have flour all over her gowns when she meets Lady Catherine de Boise.”

“Who do you mean, Lydia?” asked Mrs Bennet.

“That grand lady Mr Collins spoke of endlessly,” Lydia explained.

“Lady Catherine de Bourgh is the lady’s name,” explained Mary.

Smirking, the youngest daughter stated, “de Bourgh or de Boise, what difference does it make?”

Turning to her father, Elizabeth asked, “Father, might I go and visit with Charlotte?”

“It will certainly be an adventure for you, Lizzy,” Mr Bennet said. “You shall take the stagecoach to London and then transfer to a different coach for the ride into Kent. I believe Mr Collins changed coaches twice; first in Gravesend, then again in London.”

“But she will be unescorted, Mr Bennet!” warned Mrs Bennet. “A young woman without a chaperone will fall prey to highwaymen and scoundrels.”

Lydia sighed and declared, “I am certain a brave officer in his red coat will appear and rescue her. Lizzy will meet some handsome officer who saves her life and virtue before bringing her home to Father and declaring his love for her.”

“Lydia, have you been reading the newspaper again?” asked Mrs Bennet. The woman did not pay attention to her husband exchanging glances with Mary and Elizabeth. “When you read those stories, you have wild ideas about officers and lords in London.”

“Yes, Mamma,” Lydia confirmed. “The officers and lords sound wonderful in the stories. Mary leaves the paper where Kitty and I find it.”

“But I never see you reading it,” Mrs Bennet explained.

Kitty explained, “We listen to Mary and Elizabeth talking about the stories in the paper, so we know which ones to find when we look at the paper in our bedchamber at night.

Mr Bennet cleared his throat and said, “It would be much safer if the girls read the paper in the parlour beside the fireplace. In that room, there is better light and less chance of fire.”

Elizabeth and Mary nodded in agreement with their father’s reasoning, and thus Kitty and Lydia would begin reading the newspaper in the parlour with the rest of the family.

‘I wonder Father thought of this stratagem to get my sisters to read. He is an intelligent man without a doubt,’ the second daughter decided.

When the family rose and left the table to allow the maid to clear the dishes, Elizabeth found a quiet spot in the parlour to plan what she would write in the letter to Charlotte.

‘Charlotte will share my letter with Mr Collins, so I must write only the kindest comments,’ Elizabeth decided.

‘And I shall consult Father’s almanack to determine the best days for travelling through London.

Should I spend a night in London with the Gardiners?

Not on my departure, but I shall write to Aunt Gardiner about visiting with them for two days when I return. ’

With the letter’s topics in her mind, Elizabeth found the lap desk in the parlour and took out a sheet of paper, the ink pot, and a quill.

The pen did not need to be trimmed, and she dipped the tip into the ink pot to begin writing.

When finished, the page was filled with her acceptance of the invitation and her selected day for travel.

She asked for a reply that confirmed her date to arrive in Hunsford.

Mary read her sister’s letter and confirmed it was acceptable in composition and grammar. The middle sister asked, “Do you remember the letter Mr Collins wrote to our father? It was one long sentence.”

“Oh dear,” Elizabeth declared. “Visiting in Hunsford means I shall listen to Mr Collins preaching from the pulpit on four Sundays.”

“Father will find your stories amusing,” Mary replied. “But perhaps Charlotte has improved Mr Collins.”

“Perhaps,” replied Elizabeth though she did not sound very convincing.

~~~

While she waited for a reply from Charlotte on a suitable date for travelling to Hunsford, Elizabeth spent time with her three unmarried sisters. One morning without rain, the four sisters walked the paths from Longbourn to Netherfield.

“Will Jane be at home?” asked Kitty. “She has a carriage at her disposal and can call on any family she wants despite the weather.”

“Jane is at home and expects our visit this morning. Yesterday, when Bingley spoke with Father about working together on the fences Longbourn and Netherfield share, he agreed to deliver our message,” Elizabeth replied. “She expects us this morning.”

When they walked out of the orchard where sheep grazed quietly on the spring grass, the Bennet sisters found their new brother, Charles Bingley, walking from the far fields of Netherfield with John Lucas at his side. Mary stepped forward to speak to John while Elizabeth held back Kitty and Lydia.

“Mr Lucas, I am pleased to see you this morning,” Mary said to their neighbour.

“Good morning, Miss Mary,” John replied with a genuine smile.

Charles said, “Mr Lucas was here on business today, Mary. Sir William sold me a heifer who is soon to drop a calf. John walked her over this morning.”

“When she has the calf, her milk will come in, and you will have more for tea and butter,” said Mary.

“Why are you selling a heifer in spring, Mr Lucas?” asked Elizabeth. “We only sell cattle in the fall before we have the expense of feeding them over the winter.”

“My father needs money to pay taxes,” John admitted. “We are short of coins this spring, and the taxman demanded the payment before the quarter day when we can collect rents from the tenants.”

The young farmer glanced at Charles and said, “Mr Bingley was overly generous with his payment.”

Elizabeth and Mary exchanged glances–Charles Bingley had proven to be a considerate neighbour on more than one occasion since his arrival in Meryton. Jane’s happiness with her husband was evident to everyone, and family and friends affirmed the man’s good nature.

Being aware of Mary’s interest in the young man, Charles invited John to join the party in the house. However, John refused the invitation politely, “Thank you, Bingley, but I must return to Lucas Lodge. There is ploughing to oversee, and soon, we will begin spreading fertilizer from the barns.”

“I understand that is an unpleasant task,” Charles admitted as he shook hands with his neighbour one last time.

“Good day, Miss Mary,” John said before he tipped his hat to the other sisters and headed down the drive toward the road.

“Sisters, Jane waits for you in the house,” Charles said as he led the four young women toward the front door.

~~~