Such comments were ignored at Longbourn while Jane and Mrs. Phillips, the most frequent recipients of these complaints, did their best their best to placate the matron by reminding her of the accomplishments Lydia was no doubt learning and how much better the girl would marry once she was properly educated. This reminder did little to alleviate Mrs. Bennet’s frustration though she would usually allow herself to be redirected into thinking about the peer Lydia would no doubt marry once she was introduced into society by the Darcys. Both ladies had long since given up on telling Mrs. Bennet how unlikely that was to occur so they contended themselves with rolling their eyes behind her back when possible while doing what they could to pacify the mulish woman.
Mrs. Bennet also found much to complain about in the growing familiarity between Jane and Mr. Collins. After several months of unofficially courting, Mr. Collins approached first Jane, then her uncle Phillips about a formal courtship between the two. Jane’s period of mourning would end early in the new year, and Collins spoke to her uncle about the possibility of his proposing once it was complete while waiting to marry until Mrs. Bennet’s mourning period was over.
He believed this would placate his future mother, though Mrs. Bennet was little pleased about her daughter settling for the new master of Longbourn. Despite frequently lamenting Jane’s loss of beauty from her scars, she still expected her to marry well, at least as well as Elizabeth had. The bitterness toward her second daughter had not faded; she resented Elizabeth for marrying such a wealthy man and for refusing to recognise her authority. Mrs. Bennet remained unaware that the Darcys were payingfor her youngest daughters to attend school and assisting Mr. Collins with the estate, both financially and with advice.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
DECEMBER 1809
“But, Jane, how can you settle for marrying Mr. Collins? He is only the master of Longbourn, and you were meant for so much more. You must go to London to stay with your uncle for surely, he will introduce you to someone at least as wealthy as that man Lizzy ensnared. Surely you will manage to meet a peer, and he will fall madly in love with you. It is too bad that you are not the beauty you once were, but still, you should be able to marry better than your sister,” Mrs. Bennet remarked to Jane one morning not long after learning about the courtship.
“Mama, Mr. Collins and I are well-suited to each other. He makes me very happy, and I do not wish to go to London. I will be quite content as the Mistress of Longbourn and do not want to marry someone in the peerage. Nor would I want to inconvenience my aunt and uncle and show up uninvited at their house again,” Jane replied, frustrated by her mother’s repeated suggestion. This was not the first time they had a similar conversation, and they had only grown worse now that the courtship was publicly known.
“You could do so much better, Jane. With you as the mistress of the estate, then I would not have to move out of Longbourn and into the dower house. Perhaps it is for the best that you will be mistress here. If Mary were to take my place, she would attempt to restrict my spending. You will ensure that my allowance remains quite healthy, will you not, Jane?” she pleaded.
“Mama, should Mr. Collins offer for me once my mourning is complete, you will still be expected to move into the dower cottage. There cannot be two mistresses of the estate, and when my sisters return from school, it would be better for you to live together. Mr. Collins has already offered to cover reasonable living expenses so you are not required to do that out of your allowance, but you will be expected to limit your spending,” Jane informed her mother.
She and Mr. Collins had discussed this matter on several occasions as they discussed their courtship. Jane remembered how her father had always given into her mother whenever she had demanded additional funds for whatever she felt was necessary at the moment. At the time, Jane had not thought much of these conversations, thinking that if the income was available, why should they not spend it? However, after months of assisting others, she was now acutely aware of how much better off they would be if her parents had considered the future more carefully. Were it not for the generosity of Mr. Collins, and to a large degree that of the Darcys, Jane and all her sisters would be in a far worse position.
Initially, Jane had not realised just what Mr. Collins was giving up to by allowing the Bennet women to remain in Longbourn while the dower cottage was being renovated. However, several events had transpired over the last few months that made her more aware.
After Mary left for the Winters’ estate, Jane began accompanying Mrs. Allen on tenant visits. Initially reluctant to take on this responsibility, she felt compelled to step in when Mr. Collins mentioned specific needs of the tenants, a duty that Mary had previously fulfilled. Once she overcame her initial reluctance, she found she enjoyed the visits. The tenant childrenflocked to Mrs. Allen who frequently brought them small gifts though not on every visit. Regardless, they adored her and soon warmed to Jane as well. Initially shy around the children, she quickly became more comfortable and engaged with them naturally. Though her mother fussed over these visits, Jane had learned to tune out most of her complaints, realising she was much happier for it.
A second catalyst for these changes in Jane related to the gossip in Meryton. It struck a chord in Jane because the situation was so similar to what she had faced. In October, a widow and her two daughters had moved into a small house on the outskirts of their village. Jane had not encountered them since they tended to keep to themselves.
According to local gossip, they had recently lost their father, and their half-brother had inherited the family home. His wife had not wanted to share her new home with its former mistress and hadencouragedher husband to force them into a different situation. From what was being said around town, they were used to far better but had been forced into reduced circumstances. The two girls each had a small dowry, significantly more than Jane could claim, yet they were now in a precarious situation. Mrs. Allen helped Jane realise that this could have been her own situation, for Mr. Collins was not obligated to allow the Bennet ladies to remain in Longbourn or to restore the dower cottage to make it habitable.
“My dear, Mrs. Gordon and her daughters were forced into genteel poverty due to the selfishness of Mr. Gordon. The son, not the husband. Perhaps Mrs. Gordon’s husband could have done more to ensure his son would care for his second wife even though gossip seems to indicate he extracted a verbal promise from his son. However, the new mistress of the estateis reported to be a rather uncharitable person and likely did not want the former mistress or two lovely girls to remain in her home. It is understandable, I suppose, though the Gordon estate is healthy enough to support the three. I have spoken with our town’s newest resident, and she is resigned to her situation. Understandably, she is grieved over the loss of her husband, and that is made worse by the need to relocate so far from home,” Mrs. Allen explained when Jane asked for confirmation of the gossip.
Jane nodded thoughtfully as she sipped her tea, finally speaking several minutes later. “We are fortunate that Mr. Collins was not already married when he came to Meryton. If he had a wife, he would not have been as willing to allow us to remain in the house for so long. I also am aware that Mrs. Darcy is significantly responsible for the renovations to the dower cottage. Mary indicated that she assisted not only with that, but with arranging for Kitty and Lydia to go to school.”
It was Mrs. Allen’s turn to nod as she sipped. “Yes, the Darcys are paying for your youngest sisters to attend school. It is not terribly expensive, and your uncles paid for the clothing they needed so the entire burden did not fall on your sister and her husband. Elizabeth wants to do well by her sisters, for she understands that your parents neglected your upbringing. I know she and Mary write to each other often, and I am aware you write to her on occasion though you have not become close. Much of that is your own fault, and I think you are aware of that.”
Jane blushed a little at that. “I was resentful of her when she first came back into our lives,” she admitted. She was quiet for a moment longer, then sighed heavily. “The distance is mostly my own fault. Elizabeth has been far more generous than I deserve,given that I was the one who broke our relationship first. She did try to correspond with me after she left, but I allowed Mama’s words to colour my impressions. I resented that she was away from home, writing to me of all the interesting things she was doing with our aunt and uncle while I was stuck at home. Mama only spoke of my beauty being so important, encouraging me to do little other than gossip about our neighbours. She spoke of my future marriage, despite the fact that I was only a child, telling me that it was my responsibility to save our family. All the while, Elizabeth was in London learning things, visiting museums, even travelling on occasion. I was jealous of what I thought was her good fortune.”
“She might have been given much, but that could not make up for the fact that she was sent away from her home and family at such a young age, nor was she permitted to return home. Her aunt and uncle were good to her, but they were not her parents, and I daresay she could not forget that fact,” Mrs. Allen pointed out.
They sat in silence for several moments. As a rector’s wife, Mrs. Allen knew when to remain quiet, allowing Jane the space for reflection that she clearly needed at that moment.
“I need to write to Elizabeth to ask for her forgiveness; I am uncertain how willing she will be to grant it after all this time. She was initially willing to, but I cannot be certain that I have not ruined that possibility. I … I have been selfish, I suppose, and only recently have considered that my demanding things from her was not helping our relationship—if I can even claim we have one at this point. She responds to my letters, but without the openness of her letters to Mary. I am not certain I have been a good sister to any of mine, for I have lately considered how differently Mary seems to write to me compared to howI know she speaks of Elizabeth. They have managed to form a relationship, and I know that Mary has been invited to visit her at Pemberley next summer.”
“How is Elizabeth? Mary mentioned she is with child; do you know when the child is expected to come?”
“Soon, I think. Sometime before the end of the year. I admit that I have avoided the subject, and Elizabeth has not mentioned it in her letters either. We tend to avoid personal subjects, and I am not sure why. Perhaps I can inquire in my next letter to ask if we can begin to come to some sort of … rapprochement. At the very least, I would like to build a better relationship than we currently possess,” Jane confessed.
“That would be wise, Jane,” Mrs. Allen agreed and soon turned the conversation in a different direction.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
As the time for Elizabeth’s confinement drew nearer, Darcy grew increasingly anxious about the impending birth. He had taken to hovering near her at every moment, aided by many of Pemberley’s servants, who felt it was their duty to remain close to the mistress during this crucial time.
Winters in Derbyshire were not always kind, and this particular year brought a relentless series of biting cold days and snowfall that blanketed the estate in a thick layer of white. The winds frequently howled, rattling the windows of Pemberley, and the unpredictable weather only heightened Darcy’s nerves. He worried not only for Elizabeth’s well-being but also for the safety of their child.
The weather compounded Elizabeth’s discomfort as well; she had quickly adapted to country life and relished spending time outdoors. However, the current conditions made this nearly impossible, and her daily walks—essential for alleviating her discomfort—became increasingly difficult to manage.
“Are you certain you are comfortable, my love?” Darcy asked one evening, his voice laced with concern as he adjusted the blankets around Elizabeth, who was seated by the fire. She looked radiant, her cheeks flushed with warmth, but he could still see the signs of fatigue etched on her face.
Elizabeth smiled reassuringly, though she could sense his growing agitation. “I am quite well, William. I promise you, Ihave been in worse discomfort. The fire is warm, and I am enjoying your company.”
