“Oh…I see. Forgive me if I have intruded — I shall not insist further. May I ask — we are attending Aunt Matlock’s New Year’s dinner, are we not? She has asked me many times.”
“Yes. Geoffrey made me promise we would. I am in no disposition for parties, but I cannot condemn you and Mrs. Annesley to bear only my dull company all the time.”
“Have you decided when you will visit Lady Catherine? Please do not make me come with you! I miss Anne, and I write to her often, but—”
“Do not worry, my dear. Geoffrey and I shall visit Rosings alone. I am not sure when — probably no earlier than March.”
“Oh, good. We have plenty of time to discuss it.”
“Yes, we do,” he agreed, then moved to sit beside his sister on the stool, and the two began to play together.
***
Gracechurch Street, London,December 1811
“My dears, I am so happy to have you here!” Mrs. Gardiner said, embracing her eldest nieces. “I am sorry we could not come to Longbourn for Christmas as usual, but both Hannah and Elinor have such bad colds that the doctor insisted we should not travel in the winter. Their fevers have only just broken, and we did not want to take any risks.”
“We are happy to be here too,” Elizabeth replied. “I was rather surprised that Mama agreed to allow us to leave Longbourn at this time of year. I suspect she is still angry with me for refusing to marry Mr. Collins. If that is the case, she might send me away from home more often.”
“I am glad you can joke about this, Lizzy,” Mrs. Gardiner replied, smiling.
“It is not difficult to joke about Mr. Collins. I am still shocked that Charlotte agreed to marry him after he proposed to her only a day after I refused him. I am truly disappointed in her decision.”
“You should not judge her, my dear,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “I am sure she pondered the situation carefully and chose what was best for her. Mr. Collins — despite his faults — is not a man to disregard, from what I have heard. He is a clergyman with a good living and will one day inherit Longbourn. I doubt Charlotte has many prospects to choose from.”
“I cannot disagree with you, Aunt. But I cannot help being disappointed either. To me, marriage means something entirely different.”
“Yes, I know — you only wish to marry for the deepest love,” Mrs. Gardiner answered, still smiling. “Perhaps Charlotte is not romantic and only hopes for a comfortable life — which she might find with Mr. Collins.”
“Even if you find the deepest love, there is no guarantee you will marry or be happy,” Jane interjected. “Some sentiments canonly lead to pain, so Charlotte’s decision might be the wisest, for there is no suffering attached to it.”
Elizabeth and her aunt looked at Jane, who averted her eyes. “Forgive me — would you mind if I go to my room? I would like to rest a little,” Jane said, then left them.
“It breaks my heart to see Jane like this,” Elizabeth said. “I have tried to comfort her, but with no success. I fear Mr. Bingley’s betrayal hurt her too deeply.”
“But, may I ask in what way he betrayed her?”
“In what way? By letting her — and all of us — believe that he admired her and showing an affection he apparently did not truly feel. By promising that he would only stay in London for a few days but then never returning. And his sister wrote to Jane to say her brother was busy with Mr. Darcy and his perfectly accomplished sister. I do not blame Miss Darcy, of course, I only blame her proud and arrogant brother for convincing Mr. Bingley not to return to Hertfordshire — and Mr. Bingley for being so weak and tractable.”
“You sound very harsh, Lizzy. Let us discuss the situation later, over a cup of tea, while Jane is resting. That is — if you are not tired too.”
“Oh, not at all. I always love talking to you, Aunt.”
“Good. And perhaps you may tell me more about Mr. Wickham, the charming gentleman you seem to favour and who grew up at Pemberley — one of my favourite places in the world.”
“Mr. Wickham is charming indeed — you would like him very much, I am sure. He suffered some misfortune from the other man who grew up at your favourite place — the same man who hurt Jane,” Elizabeth answered, half in anger, half in jest.
“Ah, yes — we shall certainly talk about Mr. Darcy. I had the highest opinion of his parents, and I am so sad to hear such unfavourable reports about him.”
“The more you know about him, the sadder you will be, Aunt. I suppose he is probably well-educated and might carry out his duties well enough for some people to appreciate him, but in truth, I have rarely met a more unpleasant sort of man.”
