“You speak as though I have one foot in the grave,” Mr. Bennet said mildly.
“I am certain Mary will become more reasonable in time,” Elizabeth added.
“You.” Mrs. Bennet scowled at her. “I do not know what you did to your sister, but this is your fault.”
“I am certain Elizabeth did not mean to upset Mary, Mama.”
Elizabeth cast Jane a sharp look. Not, ‘Elizabeth is not to blame,’ or even ‘I am certain Elizabeth did nothing wrong.’
“I wonder how she sneaked out,” Lydia said thoughtfully. She focused on Elizabeth. “How do you sneak out?”
“I do not sneak out,” Elizabeth protested.
“There will be no sneaking out.” Mrs. Bennet sat up. “Finish your breakfasts, girls, and go to the front parlor. From this moment forward, your time will be spent more wisely, and under my supervision. I am not having more daughters go missing.”
“What will you do?” Elizabeth said softly to Mr. Bennet.
“I will send out riders, and write to your Uncle Gardiner for his advice, but I imagine there is little to be done. If she truly did accompany Collins, they set off yesterday. They will be miles away.” He looked down at the letter with a sigh. “We must hope Mr. Collins is honest and that they reach Scotland quickly.” With that, he left the room.
Mrs. Bennet slumped back down in her chair again. “You are all ruined. The shame of it! Four unmarriageable daughters. Drink your tea, girls, and Kitty, go change into another gown. That one needs to soak. Not that you require gowns now that you are ruined. Then, to the front parlor with you all.”
“I will fetch my mending,” Jane said, backing from the room.
“I will as well.” Elizabeth had no appetite for breakfast any longer.
“You may be excused, Elizabeth, but do not dally. It is the parlor for you. Absolutely no more walks. I will not have any daughter of mine sneaking about the countryside.”
“Yes, Mama.” Elizabeth quickly followed Jane. Arguing with Mrs. Bennet when she was in this mood would only entrench her edicts. Making her way upstairs, Elizabeth entered the room she shared with her older sister to find Jane seated on the edge of the bed, studying her hands. “Jane?”
“Have you put all our futures in jeopardy?” Jane asked softly, raising stricken eyes.
Remorse filled Elizabeth. “No. I swear to you I have not. I have done nothing wrong.”
“You have been sneaking about, and you did find a wounded gentleman, and you didn’t tell Papa.”
“I have told him now. The whole of it.” Except for confessing Mr. Wickham’s connection to Miss Darcy. Nor, after speaking with Miss Darcy yesterday, had Elizabeth gone to Mr. Bennet with news of Mr. Wickham’s demise. A demise she could not help but wonder if she had hastened, by not telling her father about Mr. Wickham sooner. But surely, neither Elizabeth’s guilt nor Mr. Wickham’s fate changed their current circumstances?
“Yes, and when you told him, he forbade you from going out or receiving callers.” Jane regarded her with worry. “Why would he do that if you have not misbehaved?”
“Because I should have told him about the man I found, Mr. Wickham, immediately.” Elizabeth studied her sister. “You must believe me.”
Jane drew in a long breath and let it out in a sigh. “I do. At least, I very much want to.” She looked down again. “It is only…I am so fond of Mr. Bingley, and I truly have nothing to offer him. I feel his reluctance. Not out of disregard for me, but for what I bring to a union. Any little thing, anything at all, could tip the scales against me.”
“Then you should be more worried about Mary running off to Scotland than about a man I found while out walking,” Elizabeth snapped, her patience abandoning her.
Jane looked up again, her blue eyes round with hurt. “I am worried about Mary. I hope she has not been fooled.”
For her sake or yours?But Elizabeth kept those words in. Wounding Jane did no good, and the answer was almost certainly both. Jane was too kind-hearted not to care about Mary’s future. “I am certain that my telling Colonel Fitzwilliam about Mr. Wickham was not only right, but also pleased both him and Mr. Darcy, who seems to have a great deal of influenceover Mr. Bingley. I very much doubt I have hurt your cause and I may even have helped.”
Jane’s smile trembled at the edges. “I do hope so, for I believe I must tell Mr. Bingley what Mary has done. I cannot keep such distressing news from him while he weighs such an important decision.”
Elizabeth did not care for the notion of Jane wedding a gentleman who would weigh his affection for her. What mattered her dowry? Their unworthy connections? Even Mary’s elopement? If Mr. Bingley loved Jane as well as she deserved, he would overlook all three.
Elizabeth had thought he did, but then, she had thought Miss Bingley loved Mr. Darcy, and that lady had readily traded a future with him for two and a half thousand pounds. Elizabeth had also thought that Fitzwilliam held her in at least some affection, but he had departed without finding a way to get a single word to her. Perhaps Elizabeth was no judge of people at all.
“I am sorry to have put my worries on you,” Jane said.
Elizabeth mustered a smile. “Let us hope that your worries are for naught, and gather our mending. If we are too long, Mama will throw an even greater fit.”
