She tucked the letter back into her pocket and began pondering what this would mean for her future and that of all her family.
One obvious result was that the entail no longer mattered. If Mr. Collins was not in line for the dukedom, then as long as Papa lived long enough to see at least one of his daughters bear a son, that son would carry on the title, thus providing for any remaining family. Additionally, though this was not certain, the duke had likely left a large amount of money that the family could use to support themselves should anything suddenly happen to Mr. Bennet.
While the situation was uncertain for now, the only thing that could be worse than their current situation was if the old duke had gambled all his property away, leaving everything in shambles with little to no income available to repair it all. While such things had happened in the past, it was unlikely in this instance, simply because he had isolated himself for the last twelve years.
Elizabeth briefly imagined her mother’s reaction to this news, but she could not picture it clearly. Either she would be overly excited at her new station and wealth, or she would be intimidated into silence. In this one instance, Elizabeth could not be certain. Becoming a baroness or even a countess would almost certainly elate Mrs. Bennet, but being a duchess would be too high for comfort, at least for any person of sense.
For a brief moment, Elizabeth wished her father could arrange for her departure sooner than next Monday. It was fivedays away, and the suspense she would feel during the wait would likely eat her alive. She could already feel it gnawing away at her soul.
She briefly broke into a brisk walk in an attempt to work out some of the tension that was building inside her. Nothing would ever be the same. Everyone she had ever known, except her family, would be left behind as she and her family moved to Derby to live on their new lands.
Images of what her new home might look like flitted through her mind. She had seen paintings of some great houses, but she had also heard tales of great houses that had fallen into disrepair, either through mismanagement or through financial difficulties. Based on her limited imagination, she could not imagine which this one would be.
In this state of walking into the unknown, Elizabeth’s mind flitted from idea to question to thought with no rhyme nor reason. Eventually, she landed on the bit of her conversation with Charlotte where Charlotte had mentioned the idea that Colonel Fitzwilliam might have designs upon her.
Colonel Fitzwilliam was cousin to Mr. Darcy and nephew to Lady Catherine, the owner of Rosings and the patroness to Mr. Collins. The colonel and Mr. Darcy were visiting their aunt for Easter, something they apparently did every year.
Though her comment to Charlotte had been accurate, that she could not possibly answer such a query at this point in time, she thought about what she would like to say. Would she welcome a proposal from that corner?
Elizabeth liked Colonel Fitzwilliam. He was friendly and clever. Their conversation was almost always peppered with little bits of humor, but it was sensible and substantial as well. She didn’t love him. Of course, she didn’t love him. She had onlyknown him for little more than two weeks. She had seen him less than ten times in total. But he was the kind of man Elizabeth had always imagined falling in love with.
She compared him in her mind to Mr. Darcy: taciturn, proud, unfeeling Mr. Darcy. In comparison, Colonel Fitzwilliam was masculine perfection personified, except perhaps in looks. Even when one compared Mr. Darcy’s stony expression to Colonel Fitzwilliam’s cheerful one, Mr. Darcy came up the winner in handsomeness. Elizabeth knew first-hand, however, that physical beauty had very little to do with successful and happy marriages. She had only to look to her own parents to see that such was the case.
She was not able to come to a conclusion in that moment. There were simply too many unknown factors, not least of which was the fact that she didn’t even know whether the gentleman in question had any intentions towards her.
With a sigh, Elizabeth turned back toward the parsonage. Though she didn’t really have any answers or understanding of what the future held, she was at least confident that she understood the situation as well as possible under the circumstances.
Once she was back at the parsonage, Elizabeth snuck into the kitchen and burned her father’s letter in the kitchen fire.
Chapter 2
The following day, Elizabeth was late taking her walk, mostly because she was late waking up. This was, of course, because she had been very, very late going to sleep. Her full mind had raced, not allowing her to rest until shortly before the time she would usually be waking up. She only slept for a couple of hours, but by the time she woke up, dressed, and breakfasted, the sun was high in the sky.
Knowing she would regret it if she neglected her exercise, she set off for her walk, despite the fact that it would cut into the time she could spend in Charlotte’s company. Mornings were usually when the two of them could simply sit and chat quietly, because Charlotte often spent the afternoons visiting her parishioners or taking care of household matters.
Just as she was approaching the borders of Rosings Park, she spied Colonel Fitzwilliam walking towards her. “Miss Bennet,” he cried, “it is a genuine pleasure to see you. I was just taking a final tour of the park as I do every year. Would you care to join me?”
“Of course,” said Elizabeth. “That would be lovely.”
As they set off in a direction the colonel chose, Elizabeth said, “Did you say this was a final tour? Does that mean you will be leaving soon?”
“I assume so,” he said. “We were originally planning to leave a couple of days ago, since we usually limit our visit to two weeks. Darcy, however, has decided to extend our stay, and since he is my source of transportation, I am at his leisure. I assume we will be leaving within the next couple of days, however. At least, that is my current understanding.”
“It must be pleasant for him to make his decisions on a whim and have everyone jump to accommodate him,” said Elizabeth.
“He does like to have his way,” chuckled Colonel Fitzwilliam. “But I believe that is simply human nature. Most men in his position would behave the same way, if not worse.”
Elizabeth thought this might be a valid point, but she did not dwell on it. “Come now, Colonel Fitzwilliam. You are hardly destitute. As the son of an earl, you can hardly have the need to deny yourself that which you desire.”
She had meant it to be a lighthearted comment, but the look he gave her in response was anything but. It was intense, though Elizabeth was unable to decipher its meaning. It did not last long, however, for he almost immediately looked away as he said, “I admit, I have not had to deny myself most of life’s pleasures, but in weightier matters my lack of independent fortune is keenly felt. For example, I cannot marry where I would wish. My allowance and income are sufficient for my own comfort, but they would not stretch to provide for a wife and children unless said wife came with a fortune of her own.”
Elizabeth did not consider herself to be a vain person, but she couldn’t help but feel that this sentiment was directed toward her, that he wished her to know that if he could only afford to do so, he would court her favor earnestly.
For a brief moment, she was tempted to tell him of her changed circumstances, but the repercussions of such an action were too unpredictable. Besides, she did not know for certain that she did have a fortune or how much it was.
Elizabeth changed the subject, and the two of them chatted amicably for another half hour.
When Elizabeth returned to the parsonage, her mind was awhirl with too many thoughts and too much confusion. Without knowing what her future held, she could not make sensible decisions. The limbo she found herself in was too much for her, and as the day progressed she earned herself a headache.
