“Yes, I have heard that my cousin Darcy was here, and another time I should like to hear how he behaved himself! But at present what I wish to hear is an apology from each of you, Mrs. Bennet and Lady Lucas, and a pledge that there will be no repetition of such a scene. My predecessor was lackadaisical, but I intend to maintain peace in this charming village, even when the death of a relation causes two families such turmoil. When my brother, Viscount Bellamy died, my relations and I did not engage in brawls on the green, and I will not allow anybody to do so in Meryton for any reason.”
Mrs. Dashwood gazed in wonder at the colonel, and Elinor was just as in awe of his commanding presence, which rendered him just as handsome as his laughter. She briefly imagined Edward taking his ghastly sister in hand in such a manner, but knew this would never become a reality.
Mrs. Bennet and Lady Lucas begrudgingly complied, and the latter made a hasty retreat in pursuit of her daughters. Mrs. Bennet sniffed, muttering something about the colonel being very like his cousin Mr. Darcy, and then she and her sister led Kitty and Lydia toward the shops.
Colonel Fitzwilliam fixed the Dashwood ladies with a gaze of cheeky bewilderment. “My first day of a new assignment has never been so eventful, and I was on the continent for two years! But I am familiar with battle, and I will assure you, Mrs. Dashwood, that I do not hold your relations responsible. I saw the whole fracas, and the Lucases were clearly the aggressors.”
“You are very kind,” Elinor said. Indeed, the colonel was far too generous – they had all seen Lydia trying to tear her former friend’s hair out.
“Oh, notverykind, Miss Dashwood, for I have met my aunt’s late parson, and must say that I never imagined him to be the sort of fellow to inspire such powerful feelings. In truth, I was predisposed to distrust any lady who would willingly enter into a marriage with the man. If you are kin, you must be aware…”
Elinor and Marianne had never met their Collins cousins, but they had received a comprehensive account of the late William Collins from Elizabeth. Elinor bit back a smile.
Mary had not followed her mother, but hovered near Elinor, and finally came forward to lay a hand on her aunt’s arm. “What we discussed before – I believe now is our chance.”
Mrs. Dashwood smiled sadly at her niece. “I had hoped it would not be necessary, but I fear you are right, my dear. Colonel, if you have no pressing matters, I wonder if you would be willing to accompany us back to Longbourn, and provide my brother Mr. Bennet with an account of what you witnessed. You need not be as tactful as you have been with us, when you speak of his youngest daughter’s role in the spectacle.”
“It would be my honor to be of assistance; of course he ought to be informed, and I intended to call upon a few of the local fathers with daughters to warn them of certain officers who may not be desirable acquaintances.”
“How thoughtful of you,” Mrs. Dashwood said. She linked arms with Marianne and Mary, and glanced over at Elinor as the colonel offered her his arm. Elinor had no objection to accepting it, though she knew her mother, and possibly even Marianne, would have more to say about it later. She meant to honor her word and wait for Edward to break his engagement to Lucy Steele, but there was no harm in making a new friend.
***
Longbourn was still in uproar the next day; there had been no peace in the house since Mr. Bennet had been persuaded by his sister to curtail Lydia’s social privileges. Marianne was glad of it, despite the ensuing and constant complaints.
Both Mrs. Bennet and Lydia had been forbidden from attending the ball after their role in the scene at the square. Furthermore, Lydia was no longer to be considered as out in society – or to hear her tell it, her life was utterly ruined, and there was no justice in the world. Marianne thought her tantrums were rather proof of the reverse.
The sleeping arrangements of all the young ladies were also altered. Lydia was sent back to the nursery with Margaret and Julia, who were two years younger but far more sensible, in Mr. Bennet’s estimation, and he dearly hoped that they would influence Lydia, rather than the reverse.
Kitty and Mary were given the choice of which Dashwood sister they would share with, and Marianne might have been cross at being separated from her sister, but she had already resolved to make a project of improving Mary as a musician, and addressing her dull and dreary taste in reading. Marianne agreed that Elinor and Kitty would also benefit from sharing a room, for when separated from the influence of Lydia, Kitty’s manners were rather like Elinor’s; she wanted only a little more sense.
Even after this matter was settled, Marianne was to have no peace. While Mrs. Bennet and Lydia kept to their rooms, weeping and wailing, Mr. Bennet took tea with his sister and the girls. Mrs. Dashwood was idly perusing the paper when she set it down with a gasp. She looked up at Marianne with horror.
“Mamma, what is it?”
Tears welled in Mrs. Dashwood’s eyes. “Willoughby had announced his engagement to Miss Grey, a darling of thetonwith fifty thousand pounds.”
Marianne sat frozen as despair and disbelief warred in her heart. And then her vision blurred and she began to weep, and she rushed from the room. She threw herself onto the bed and wept, guttural sobs wracking her body. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Marianne could scarcely speak, but her mother and Elinor entered and sat on either side of her; one of them began stroking her hair.
“I am so sorry, Marianne,” her mother said.
“Perhaps she is also deceived; she cannot know what you have learned about him.”
Marianne let out a moan as if in physical pain. “It must be his aunt. She sent him away, and perhaps she found out about Eliza Williams. She is forcing him to do this! He loved me! He loved me, I know he did!”
“Of course he did,” her mother said in a soothing voice. “We all saw it, we all believed in him.”
“Can I get you anything?” Some wine perhaps?”
“Oh, Elinor! You know what I suffer – nothing can make this better!” Marianne buried her face in a pillow and shrieked.
It was another quarter hour before she could rise from her recumbent position and dry her tears. Her mother offered her a damp cloth for her face, tutting at the puffiness of Marianne’s cheeks. “You ought to rest before the ball. I believe Thomas sent to the apothecary for some tonic to soothe Fanny’s nerves.”
“No, I do not wish to numb what I feel, I must feel it. But I cannot possibly go to the ball!”
Elinor cast her eyes in the direction of Lydia’s room, which had yet to go completely silent. “Dearest, you shall be miserable if you stay at Longbourn tonight.”
“And you have promised to dance with the colonel,” her mother reminded her. “Rest awhile; I will silence Lydia if it means kicking her out of a window.”
