“I will not,” Elizabeth stated firmly, wanting to ensure that all in the room understood. “First of all, you are fourteen and would not come out in London before seventeen, if not older. Young ladies do not come out in London until they are properly educated and prepared, and you would have much to do before you would be considered ready. Second, I do not know you. Youwere very young when I left home, when I was cast from our home and disowned, so for you to assume that I will do for you all of what you are proposing is insulting. Since Mrs. Bennet was the one who demanded I leave the only home I had known at the age of eight, and Mr. Bennet willingly went along with it, I owe no allegiance tothem. I will gladly exchange letters with you, and should we form a friendship, I may invite you to visit at some point, but you should not assume I owe you anything.”
“But Mama said—” Kitty began.
"What Mrs. Bennet said has no effect on me, I owe her no allegiance and I will not do anything that she demands of me, unless I choose to do it. I am your sister, not your parent, and I have no obligation toward you," Elizabeth said, a sense of finality to her words that a more astute person should have picked up on.
However, most of the girls raised by Fanny Bennet were not astute and had been raised believing they were owed whatever they wished.
"Mama always said you were not good for anything," Lydia said tartly. “After you left the other day, she looked over several of Papa's newspapers and found information about your husband. With your looks, she is astounded that you managed to find any husband, but she was shocked to learn that your Mr. Darcy is reportedly fabulously wealthy. Mama says you must have tricked him into marrying you somehow, or Uncle Gardiner did. You may not be willing right now to do as Mama says, but she will ensure you do. If you have ensnared such a handsome and wealthy husband, then surely I will marry a duke.”
Elizabeth laughed derisively at the thought. "Lydia, you have many years before you are ready for marriage, and you areunlikely to ever even meet a duke. My husband may be highly placed in society and might move in exalted company, but even he rarely encounters anyone that high. Not to mention, there are presently no unmarried dukes and none younger than our father's age."
“But they must have sons, and once you take me to London and dress me in the finest silks and satins that are offered, I will have men desperate to marry me,” Lydia sing-songed.
“As I told Kitty, you presume far too much. Unless you are willing to behave properly, I would never consider taking you to London. You still have many years to learn, being only thirteen, so I suggest you focus on acquiring accomplishments and learning to conduct yourself with propriety. There is no point in discussing it now, as any such trip is far off in the future. For the time being, I would like you to write to me once my husband and I leave the area. We have not been in each other’s company for many years, and I would be glad to reconnect with you through letters for now,” Elizabeth said kindly.
“Mama expects you to take Jane with you to London,” Kitty informed her sister. Jane had the sense to blush at those words although she appeared … smug, Elizabeth thought, as though she knew Elizabeth would comply with their mother’s wishes. “She has already commanded Jane to pack her things so she might return with you to London.”
“I will say this once more, for my husband and I do not intend to visit this town again beyond today. We hoped to visit my family and learn what the summons to Longbourn was about, but we are newly married,” Elizabeth said, trying not to blush at the amused looks her youngest sisters cast at this statement. “I am happy to learn more about my sisters through letters at this point and will issue no invitations to London or to Pemberleyfor some time. Due to the separation enforced on us by Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, I do not know any of you well. Nor am I under any obligation to do as your parents’ command, for I was disowned many years ago. As such, I have considered myself an orphan for much of the last decade and owe no obligation to anyone named Bennet. However, I know that you four had nothing to do with what happened and am willing to try to create a relationship with you. I make no promises aside from that.” She fixed each of her sisters with an intent look, willing them to hear what she was trying to say.
“Should you persist in making demands of me, I will cut off contact with you. So long as the letters remain focused on getting to know each other better, I will be happy to correspond. At an appropriate time, if I offer an invitation, it will be because I desire to spend time with you, not out of obligation or some sort of demand. Am I rightly understood?”
Mary appeared to fully understand the sentiment, and neither she nor Mrs. Phillips said anything other than to nod in acceptance of her words. Kitty was taken aback at such a violent refusal, as was Jane but her eyes indicated … defiance, or perhaps anger. Elizabeth was unsure what emotion shone in her elder sister’s eyes. Lydia was more obviously displeased, but she rarely allowed anyone or anything to dampen her desires. If anything, her gaze only became more determined.
The conversation shifted then to easier topics with Mary and Mrs. Phillips, together with Elizabeth, able to guide the conversation. Kitty contributed little, and Lydia occasionally attempted to steer the conversation back into uncomfortable territory. However, Jane remained silent, long after both Elizabeth and the rest of the Bennet sisters departed from their aunt’s.
When Mary steppedinto her uncle’s office, instead of following her sisters, none noticed. Mary was almost the forgotten daughter in her family. “Uncle, I do not want to be forced to marry the heir,” she stated quietly once he turned to look at her.
“My wife and I will think of some way to protect you, Mary. I am uncertain what we can do at the moment, but I will write a letter to the Gardiners to see what they think might be done. They might be able to help you in London, but I cannot be sure your parents would allow you to go. Do remember that no one can force you to wed Mr. Collins, as the vicar will not marry you if you do not agree, but they can make it impossible for you to remain at home. If that happens, we will allow you to live with us or ensure you are taken care of,” Phillips reassured his niece.
“Do I not have an obligation to obey my parents?” Mary protested.
Phillips closed his eyes as he considered it. "If your parents are making choices in your best interest, I would say you do. However, in this case, I do not think they would be taking into account what is best for you. Your mother is doing this to secure her own future, without regard to the impact on any daughter she tries to coerce into marrying Mr. Collins, and your father is unwilling to stand up to her and force her to do what is right. He has also been indolent and has allowed Longbourn to fall into a decline over the last decade. Had he saved funds to providedowries for you and your sisters, none of you would need to marry Mr. Collins. Mary, I cannot answer religious questions. For answers, I suggest you stop and speak to the rector to see what he says about parents forcing a child to marry."
Mary nodded, sitting down in a corner and pondering what her uncle had said to her. “Why has Lizzy never returned home before now?”
Phillips looked at her in surprise. "She was not permitted to come home. After Jane was injured in the barn, Lizzy was sent to live with the Gardiners. Your father signed a letter giving Elizabeth into your uncle's care, surrendering all connection to her."
“I did not know. Mama always said that Lizzy asked to go to the Gardiners because she did not want to be part of our family. I questioned this, but I had no way of knowing any differently.”
“You could have asked your aunt and me, and we would have explained. We have kept up a correspondence with the Gardiners and would have helped you write to her,” Phillips said softly.
"I never even considered it. I was surprised when Elizabeth arrived at Longbourn yesterday and then to hear what Mama had planned for her.It was odd to hear her mentioned when her name had not been spoken by any of us in years. I was not certain Kitty or Lydia even remember her."
“Lydia does. Lately, she has made a few comments that indicate she has been very aware of your mother’s plans for your sister. My wife found her laughing a few times about the plan for Lizzy to marry ‘an old man’ and how your mother intended to continue running Longbourn even after Mr. Collins inherited. The two ofthem had big plans for what they would do when they were in charge.”
“Lydia is awful. I wish I could get away from Longbourn and Mama. I would nearly volunteer to marry Mr. Collins just to get away, but since Mama thinks she will remain as mistress no matter what happens to Papa, I am uncertain that would be the escape I hoped for,” Mary concluded sadly.
Her uncle did what he could to comfort the girl, but he was not particularly adept at the task. Soon, Mary left and thoughtfully made her way to a second location.
“Mrs. Allen, is the Reverend home?” Mary asked.
That lady nodded and invited the girl in. “Would you care for tea or cakes? Mr. Allen and I were just about to sit down for a small repast.”
“Thank you; tea would be lovely,” Mary replied, following Mrs. Allen into the parlour. Once all were served their tea and pleasantries were exchanged, Mary finally spoke.
“I have a … theological question, Mr. Allen. I was hoping you would be able to help.”
Mr. Allen was accustomed to Mary asking such questions but found her manner in this case unusual. Of course, he recalled that the girl’s older sister had returned to the area recently and wondered if these questions had something to do with that.
