“Exactly! Why would she even consider accepting?”
Jane frowned. “Because he asked, and... well, Mary seems to think it’s her duty.”
“And Mama left Mary as the sacrificial lamb. I have to stop this,” Elizabeth muttered, standing quickly and regretting it as her head spun. “Only think how pedantic and intolerable Mary will become if she marries a man like Collins! Charlotte might make him a sensible sort of fellow—at least, she will not be ruined by him—but Mary is—”
Jane reached out, gently gripping her arm. “Lizzy, it’s too late. Mary has already accepted.”
The weight of those words nearly crushed the air out of Elizabeth’s lungs. Mary, dutiful and serious Mary, had accepted Collins’s proposal. It was done. There was no undoing it now. Elizabeth felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, a mixture of frustration,disappointment, and guilt for not intervening sooner. For being too distracted last night to help her friend.
“Come, Lizzy,” Jane said gently, helping her to her feet. “We must go downstairs.”
Elizabeth nodded, taking a deep breath and trying to steel herself. She dressed quickly and followed Jane down the stairs, each step sending a jolt of pain through her head. Her mother’s voice floated up from the parlour, cheerful and triumphant.
“Oh, Mr Collins, this is such splendid news! I knew you would make the right choice. Mary will be a perfect wife for you.”
Elizabeth felt a surge of anger. How could her mother be so blind? So selfish? This was a dreadful choice for Mary! She wanted to scream, to tell them all how wrong this was, but it would do no good. The decision had been made.
As they entered the parlour, Elizabeth saw Collins beaming with self-satisfaction and Mary sitting primly beside him, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She looked content, even satisfied. Elizabeth’s heart ached for her sister, for Charlotte, for the future that might have been.
“Congratulations, Mr Collins,” Elizabeth said, forcing a smile. “Mary, I hope you will be very happy.”
Mary nodded, her eyes meeting Elizabeth’s with a hint of gratitude. “Thank you, Lizzy. I... I believe this is the right path for me.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard, unable to say anything more.
The rest of the morning was frantic oblivion. Congratulations were exchanged, plans were made, and all the while, Elizabeth felt a growing sense of despair. She had tried to do the right thing, to help her friend, but it had all gone so horribly wrong. Collins was now part of her family, and there was no escaping the reality of it.
When the initial excitement had settled, Elizabeth found a moment to slip away. She needed air, needed to clear her head. She wandered out into the garden, the crisp morning air a welcome relief from the stuffy parlour.
She found a quiet corner and sank onto a bench, burying her face in her hands. The headache throbbed mercilessly, a physical manifestation of the turmoil inside her. She thought of Darcy, of his own headaches and the strange, intense look he had given her at the ball. She had tried to extend sympathy, to understand his pain, but it had all gone so wrong. What had he meant by those cryptic words? Had he been trying to tell her something important, something she had missed? If that had been his intention, he had succeeded only in sounding petulant and hyperbolic.
She squeezed her eyes shut against the weak morning sunlight and the pounding reminder of the amount of punch she had consumed last evening. She could barely even manage to think, to say nothing of holding a conversation with anyone. If this was any fraction of how Mr Darcy’s head must have been feeling, perhaps she could understand a little bit of petulance.
Elizabeth took a deepbreath as she approached Lucas Lodge, her feet dragging down the familiar path. Charlotte had been fragile enough of late, and this would shatter her newfound hopes.
Charlotte greeted her at the door, her eyes bright and a smile lighting up her face. “Lizzy! I was just thinking of you. Come in, come in! We have so much to talk about.”
Elizabeth forced a smile, her stomach knotting with dread. “Charlotte, you seem in good spirits.”
“Oh, I am,” Charlotte said, leading her into the cosy sitting room. “Last night was... well, it was wonderful, was it not? Mr Wickham was so attentive, and did you see how well Mr Collins danced with me? I really think your plan might work, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard, the words feeling like stones in her throat. “Yes, the ball was... quite the event.”
Charlotte bubbled on, her enthusiasm undiminished. “I have been thinking about ways to cross Mr Collins’ path now that we have got to know each other a little. Perhaps if I come to ‘call on you’ this afternoon? And you could ‘ask’ me for help with some of your needlework—oh, say it is something for the charity basket for the parish. That might impress him and give me a reason to visit Longbourn more frequently.”
Elizabeth’s heart ached as she listened. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she had to say. “Charlotte, there is something I need to tell you.”
Charlotte paused, her smile faltering slightly as she took in Elizabeth’s serious tone. “What is it, Lizzy?”
“Mr Collins...” Elizabeth hesitated, searching for the right words. “Mr Collins has… ah… made his intentions known.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “His intentions? Oh, Lizzy, you were right! How wonderful! I can hardly believe—”
“Charlotte,” Elizabeth interrupted gently, her voice breaking slightly. “He proposed to Mary this morning. And she accepted.”
For a moment, Charlotte stood frozen, the colour draining from her face. The joyous light in her eyes flickered and went out, replaced by a look of stunned disbelief. “Mary?” she whispered. “But... I thought...”
Elizabeth stepped closer, reaching out to her friend. “I am so sorry, Charlotte. I truly am. I had hoped—”
