Elizabeth is wrong. I have felt love. I just do not allow it to flourish.Her thoughts were bitter as she approached the parsonage. Upon entering, she realized her friend had not yet returned. Jane sat in her small parlor and Charlotte joined her after divesting herself of her outerwear in her chamber.
“How was your walk, Charlotte?” Jane did not look up from her work.
“How did you know it was me?” she asked teasingly.
“Elizabeth is shorter than you. Her steps are closer together.” Jane’s sound reasoning surprised her.
What an astute observation.“You are quite right. I enjoyed my walk. I believe I shall remain here tomorrow and be at your disposal.”
“I am to visit parishioners tomorrow. I would welcome your company.” She paused. “Mr. Collins is to accompany us.”
“I am not uncomfortable in his presence, Jane,” Charlotte admonished. “I have told you of my sentiments. There are no hard feelings.”
“I am pleased to hear it. I merely wished you to be aware. He will not be pleased. I have not confronted my husband; I believe he knows he behaved badly and is uncomfortable around you for that reason.”
“Shall I seek to reassure him that I am no longer wounded by his actions?” Charlotte did not wish to do so but would do anything she needed to ensure Jane’s felicity.
“I think it best to leave matters be.” Jane nodded as if agreeing with herself. “Have you told Elizabeth yet?”
“No.” Charlotte shifted uncomfortably. “There has not been a proper moment to bring such a topic up. I knew she would disapprove when I attempted to… you know. She will say I should be pleased to have avoided a loveless marriage and I do not wish to hear that from her.”
“Mayhap she would temper her words, given her elder sister married the same man she so disparaged.” Jane shrugged.
“Why did you?” Her question tumbled forth. Her curiosity had known no bounds since Jane had confronted her in the garden weeks ago. “You did not love him, not then. You and Elizabeth swore you would marry for the deepest affection.”
Jane paused in her work, then set it aside and turned to Charlotte. “Surely, you have suspected.”
She hesitated. “I have only my suspicions. I do not believe Elizabeth shares them.”
“Elizabeth will not see that which discomforts her. She sketches characters upon a moment’s notice but fails to properly evaluate those closest to her. She has always done this. I think in many ways she is my opposite. My father has taught her to see the follies and foibles. I have always seen the good and the possibilities. When she casts her judgments, she outlines as my father taught her. In Lydia, she sees a brash, headstrong young woman who wishes to outshine her elder sisters. I see a young girl desperate for direction and occupation, one who craves her father’s attention.” Jane sighed. “No, the signs go against Elizabeth’s inclinations. She does not want to believe she might have been wrong to refuse our cousin when he offered his hand. She does not want to acknowledge that our father is anything but the robust, strong man he has always been.”
“Then… is it true?” Charlotte’s heart ached for Jane.
“I have reason to believe my father is not well,” confirmed Jane. “If I am wrong, then I shall be pleased to have him as master of Longbourn for many years. If I am correct, then I expect Mr. Collins will need to hire a curate before too long.”
“If you are wrong…” Charlotte trailed off.
“I cannot repine my marriage, if that is what you mean.” Jane smiled, though it seemed a sad one to Charlotte. “My family is secure, and so I am content. If I dwell only on the what ifs andthe could haves, then I shall never know happiness. Instead, I focus on that which I can change, and on the coming joys.” Her hand rested on her stomach, which was beginning to bulge out ever so slightly.
Sir Andrew’s words from their walk returned to her mind. “Jane,” she asked, “were you aware that you have a servant reporting to Lady Catherine?”
Jane frowned. “I had considered the possibility but have had no irrefutable proof. Lady Catherine hired my staff before my arrival, except my personal maid. How came you by this information?”
Charlotte wavered. She did not wish to share her source but felt it necessary to warn Jane. “I have it from a reliable source that Lady Catherine is in a pique today. The cause… you have not approached her for advice about your delicate condition. Knowing you only confided in Elizabeth and me two nights ago, I knew there had to be another who overheard and reported the news.”
Jane leaned back in her chair and sighed. “Martha,” she said. “It must be her. She has a sister who works at Rosings Park.”
Charlotte concurred. “She may very well have disclosed the information accidentally.”
“I do not believe it.” Jane’s uncharacteristic bitterness surprised Charlotte. “Martha’s sister is a chambermaid. How would she gain an audience with Lady Catherine unless she had already been recruited to report on the residents of the parsonage?”
“It may be nothing. I simply wished you to be on your guard. Perhaps you can mitigate Lady Catherine’s ire by speaking to her before dinner.”
“I will consider it.” Jane set her work back in her basket and stood. “I believe I shall go rest before tea. Have you need of anything before I go?”
Charlotte shook her head. “I believe I shall take a book outside to the garden. It is a lovely day.” In truth, she wished for time to reflect on the tumultuous feelings her most vulnerable organ constantly urged her to give her attention. It would take time, but she would conquer this unadvisable attraction she had toward Sir Andrew.
Jane left, and Charlotte made her way to the garden. She sat on the bench beneath the trees, sufficiently hidden from sight that passersby could not observe her. She watched the lane, her thoughts meandering aimlessly, only to witness Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth approaching. Mr. Darcy said something to his companion before bowing and moving away toward Rosings Park.
