Mama’seyeswerestillswollen from crying. Had she even slept? I lowered myself into my chair at the breakfast table and glanced at Papa, who was kneading his forehead and downing cup after cup of hot black tea.
“Yes, my dear, we are all aware of what you suffer,” he sighed. “What a mercy your voice is one thing you have not lost.”
Mama stifled a sob with her handkerchief and then flicked it at me. “Oh, there she is! Sitting down with the rest of us as if she hadn’t a care in the world. And after Mr. Bingley went away! How could you let such an opportunity slip through your fingers, Lizzy?”
Oh, good heavens.How long did she mean to carry on like this? “I rather think it was like the game of hot potato. I could not get him off my hands quickly enough.”
Papa gave a little snort and lifted his glass to me. “Off mine as well. Now, I may enjoy my library in peace.”
I looked up. “What do you mean, Papa?”
He stabbed a bit of sausage with his fork. “He’s gone. Trundled off this morning in a great huff. I heard some rumor that he tried to court both Charlotte Lucas and Elle Goulding yesterday afternoon—thought he might save a bit of face, I shouldn’t wonder—but was disappointed in both, for neither granted him an audience. So, there, my dear,” he said, speaking a little louder to Mama. “Yours is not the only maternal heart to break today. That should bring you some comfort.”
“Comfort! The only comfort I want is a daughter well settled. To lose both Mr. Bingley and Mr. Collins on the same day—I say, it is very hard.”
“Aye, I daresay Mr. Bingley’s absence will be felt for some while, but I cannot join you in your regret over Mr. Collins. Give him my Lizzy? I wouldn’t even give Mr. Collins a cow, so long as my two feet remain out of the grave.”
I raised an eyebrow.A cow?Oh, Papa.
Lydia giggled. “Perhaps not a cow, but surely a chicken?”
“Or at least a goose, Kitty chimed in. “For the festive season, naturally.”
“Oh, do not remind me of such things! Why should I even bother hanging boughs and mistletoe if there are no gentlemen to share an indiscretion with?”
“Mama, you forgot Mr. Wickham and Mr. Denny!” Lydia protested.
But Mama wasn’t listening. “All those gowns and bonnets newly made over, and they shall go to waste! No more balls, and the Assemblies will hardly be worth the price of the tickets.”
Papa chuckled. “Mrs. Bennet, I am certain Elizabeth will be more noted at parties for her sharp wit and lively dancing than for being tethered to Mr. Collins.”
“My dear Mr. Bennet, how you like to vex me! Wit won’t keep her warm in winter.”
And neither would Mr. Collins, I thought wryly.
What of Charlotte? I, at least, could look forward to the hope ofsomething.Something better than Mr. Collins—perhaps it was not terribly likely, given my small portion, but neither was it impossible. What had Charlotte to brighten her remaining days? And poor Jane—she deserved a bit of my sympathy, too, for unlike me, she had truly loved the man Mama was lamenting for her. If Iweredisappointed—which I was not—it was fair to say I could bear that disappointment better than either of them.
“I say, isn’t that right, Lizzy?” Papa’s voice cut through my thoughts.
I jerked to attention. “Yes, Papa.”
“‘Yes, Papa,’ she says. So, you agree that it is a fine thing to be crossed in love now and again? You prefer that sort of distinction among your peers? No, I should think you stopped listening a while ago.” He studied me, his expression softening. “My dear, you seem elsewhere this morning. Surely it is not over Mr. Collins?”
Shaking my head, I murmured, “No, just... other matters.”
“Well, let me add to them.” He put on his glasses as he drew a letter out of his coat pocket and cleared his throat. “Delivered yesterday, but the house was in such a foment that I dared not mention it sooner. It is from Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner.”
“Oh, I knew my brother would send something!” Mama cried. “How could he know just the right time to write us something cheerful?”
“You may or may not find it so, my dear.” Papa glanced at Jane and me over the rim of his glasses. “Mr. Gardiner expresses his deepest regret that business is presently preventing him from coming to us next week, as originally intended. He and Mrs. Gardiner now intend to remain in London for the festive season.”
Mama’s weeping began afresh, and with great volume. I could hardly feel less disappointed, for I had dearly longed to see my aunt and uncle and my little cousins. It was a tradition of some long standing that we all gathered for Christmas. My sisters and I shared rooms to make space for the family, and Uncle and Aunt Philips would drive over every day. It had always been a time of merriment and familial intimacy, with games round the fire that lasted half the night, Hill’s best delicacies from the kitchen, and so many memories made. But it was not to be this year. I sighed and met Jane’s eyes.
“You may spare some measure of your laments, my dear, for the letter is not yet finished,” Papa said.
“Oh, what more can he have to say that would be of any comfort?” Mama sobbed. “I suppose he has sent a sample of new lace for us to admire, but what good will that do? We shall not be able to purchase it for ourselves.”
“Perhaps you will let me finish,” Papa inserted dryly. He cleared his throat again and held the letter up to read the bottom. “He says that he has acquired a new business partner. Someone rather well-heeled, it would seem, belonging to the very first circles. He cannot possibly offend this gentleman by coming away at a time when they are still sorting shipping contracts for the man’s investments.”
