But Mr. Bennet—bless the man—only chuckled.
“Well, you must not be too hard on yourself, Mr. Collins,” he said mildly, cutting into his eggs. “Daniel Bennet was always rather a private sort, and his ventures in trade would have rendered him somewhat forgetful of his own affairs. But then, business has a way of making men rather loose with their recollections.”
Collins blinked. “Oh?”
“Indeed,” Mr. Bennet continued, his tone smooth, almost careless. “I remember some business about a venture in fishing tackle, of all things. Or was it tobacco? Something dreadful and tedious, I am sure. The last I heard, he had grown quite occupied with it.”
Elizabeth quickly took a sip of tea to hide her smirk.
Collins, as expected, took the answer at face value and nodded with great solemnity. “Ah, well. Such enterprises often consume one’s time. I have often thought that even I should not be half so devoted to my duties at Hunsford if not for Lady Catherine’s excellent guidance.”
Mr. Bennet hummed noncommittally, returning to his meal.
Elizabeth allowed herself to breathe again.
She shot a quick glance at Jane, only to find her friend’s brows drawn ever so slightly together, her gaze flickering between Elizabeth and her father. She knew something had just happened.
Elizabeth merely lifted her teacup to her lips and smiled.
Collins, wholly oblivious, continued to prattle on.
Elizabeth turned her attention back to her plate, carefully concealing her amusement behind a sip of tea. Mr. Bennet had done his part. She had no doubt he could spin an entire lineage for her if pressed, but she would rather not endure more of Collins’ questions before breakfast had even settled.
Unfortunately, the man seemed inclined to linger, all but preening as he ladled preserves onto his toast. Jane, meanwhile, sat with her hands neatly folded in her lap, her posture stiff, her expression carefully composed. But Elizabeth saw it. The slight line beside her mouth. The way she had hardly touched her tea. The faint crease of discomfort between her brows whenever Collins addressed her directly.
And then, there was Mrs. Bennet—Mrs. Bennet, who was dabbing her mouth with her napkin and staring wide-eyed at Mr. Collins, then glancing, all too frequently, at her eldest daughter.
Elizabeth frowned.
That would not do.
She set her teacup down with a delicate clink, then turned to Jane with a bright, conspiratorial smile. “Jane, would you not agree that the day is far too fine to be spent indoors?”
Jane blinked, startled. “I—well, yes, I suppose—”
“Excellent.” Elizabeth turned to Mrs. Bennet, adopting her most innocent expression. “I was thinking of walking into Meryton this afternoon, ma’am. Would it not be lovely if we called on your sister Mrs. Philips? I am certain she would be delighted to see us.”
Mrs. Bennet, who had been more occupied with watching Mr. Collins enjoy his breakfast than listening to the conversation, blinked at the mention of her sister. “Oh, well! Yes, of course, my dear! You must give her my regards. I am sure she will be most pleased. And while you are there, see if the milliner has received any new ribbons. Lydia will want them.”
Elizabeth beamed, ignoring the way Lydia perked up at the mention of ribbons. She turned back to Jane. “You will accompany me? I intend to walk very fast—good for the constitution, you see. I am afraid few can keep up comfortably.”
Jane hesitated, casting a fleeting glance at Collins. Elizabeth had to bite back a triumphant smirk.
“I… suppose there is no harm in it,” Jane murmured.
Elizabeth took her hand, squeezing lightly before rising from the table. “Excellent. I shall tell Mrs. Hill to pack us a bit of bread and cheese, in case we are delayed.”
Jane stood more slowly, fumbling with her chair. “Should we not return before supper?”
“Oh, certainly,” Elizabeth said breezily. “But who can say when we may wish to take refreshment? It might seem silly, for Mrs. Philips is never one to let guests leave on an empty stomach. I daresay we shall be well-fed before our return.”
Jane looked unconvinced, but Elizabeth had already turned to the housekeeper, murmuring a request for a small bundle of provisions. Mrs. Hill, probably accustomed to the younger Bennet girls taking such liberties, hardly batted an eye.
Half an hour later, Elizabeth and Jane stepped out into the bright new day, the warmth of the sun kissing their faces.
Of course, Meryton was not their true destination.
Elizabeth slung the small bundle of bread and cheese over her arm and cast a sideways glance at Jane. “Tell me, dearest cousin, have you ever walked the pasturelands beyond Lucas Lodge?”
