“A happy escape for her! I should hate for any young lady to lament for such a villain,” Lady Rebecca cried.
“I suppose he has had his punishment,” Marianne said with a sigh.
“My brother told me that he confided further in your sister at the ball, but if she did not disclose all of Wickham’s misdeeds to you, perhaps I ought not speak of them, either,” Lady Rebecca mused. “He has been taken to London to await the assizes, and cannot be a danger to anybody. Well, I am glad Richard confided in your sister, eh? And I suppose it is a fine thing your other cousin is not in the throes of heartbreak.”
Curiosity and caution warred in Marianne’s mind; she wished to know what else the colonel had told her sister of Mr. Wickham, and yet she supposed Elinor may have thought it too dreadful to repeat. But Marianne did begin to think it was a fine thing that the colonel had shown her sister such a preference. “I do not share my Bennet cousins’ enthusiasm for all the officers, though perhaps Colonel Brandon might do for Lizzy… and it would serve Edward right if Elinor should fancy your brother.”
“He is the very best of men,” Lady Rebecca said brightly. “He and Phillip – the viscount – were the kindest to me when I was a child. My late brother Peter and my elder sister Norah were beastly, but Richard was always my great defender. Phillip is all patience and forgiveness, but I know he thinks me very wicked. Richard is my compatriot in impudence and mischief, which makes life very merry, you know.”
“What sort of mischief?”
“The mostly harmless variety, I assure you,” Lady Rebecca laughed. “He is no rake, but he enjoys the sort of teasing I have heard attributed to your cousin Miss Elizabeth, that particular style of needling a person toward what is right, and having a good laugh all the while. We intend to work such mischief upon Charles, while we are in Hertfordshire.”
Marianne had nothing good to say of Mr. Bingley, though she did not wish to offend her friend. She would heed Elizabeth’s advice, for she could not resent the gentleman if Jane no longer desired his addresses, anyhow – but Marianne still believed him a great fool. If Lady Rebecca and the colonel wished to improve him, it could be nothing to Jane, nor any of her relations, and Marianne rather doubted they should have any great success.
***
When their callers departed, Elinor suggested to Marianne that they reply to their cousins' letter. She sat at a little desk by the window, while Marianne cuddled against Mary on the bed they shared. “I hardly think we have anything of note to tell our cousins,” Marianne said, pulling a blanket around herself. Mary laughed.
“Surely you cannot be serious,” Elinor cried. “I daresay Mr. Darcy will hear an account of the Twelfth Night ball from his cousins – do you not wish me to convey your version of events before our cousins hear it from him?”
“I cannot imagine Lizzy on friendly terms with Mr. Darcy,” Mary said with a shake of her head. “It was right of him to speak honestly with Jane, of course, but I have never known Lizzy to despise anybody so passionately!”
Marianne grinned. “So perhaps Lizzy will not believe him, when he tells her of my tantrum! Oh, I suppose I am alittleashamed of myself – I was not, until Uncle Thomas found it sofunny, and Aunt Fanny declared the cook shall make my favorite ragout. Then I began to wonder if I had gone too far.”
Mary shook her head, but betrayed herself with a smile; Marianne’s levity was good for her. Elinor was far from proud of her sister’s actions, and doubted they would bring Jane any comfort – she decided not to write of it, but she felt obliged to give a brief summary of what had occurred with the Lucases, for she doubted her aunt would give a rational account of the incident.
As Marianne began to prod Mary for details of what Mr. Bingley had spoken to her and Kitty about, Elinor penned a few lines in praise of Lady Rebecca and the colonel. Elinor was pleased that the former had taken an interest in befriending Marianne; the colonel had a great deal of playful praise for his sister, when Elinor had conversed with him.
Elinor smiled at the recollection of their lively conversation in the garden, and began to twirl the pen in her fingers as she thought of a jest he had made about some singularly territorial geese they encountered. She startled when her sister bounded up to her and peered down at the page.
“Oho! I knew you must be smiling because you were writing about the colonel!”
“I enjoyed our conversation, Marianne, as you enjoyed yours with Lady Rebecca. Friendship ought to make one smile,” Elinor said evenly.
“What did you talk about?”
“Only what is generally discussed at the opening of an acquaintance – taste in reading and in music, and other interests and pursuits, our home counties, our friends and relations. What did you and Lady Rebecca speak of?”
Marianne grinned devilishly. “Our friends and relations.”
Elinor suspected she knew what her sister was about. “I hope you will not add to Mamma’s speculation. Until this morning, I had thought to wait for Edward….” Elinor stopped herself from saying more and glanced in Mary’s direction.
Mary came to stand beside them. “Marianne told me your heart is broken! Is it not a fine thing that the colonel has singled you out?”
Elinor let out a slow, shaky breath. She was not cross that Marianne had told their cousin of her troubles, but she knew herself to be unable to speak about it. There scarcely seemed to be any words suited to express what she felt. “It is not that simple. I cared very deeply for Edward, and it pained me not only that he pledged himself to another, but that it should be a lady so unworthy of such a fine man. It is difficult to at once respect his integrity, and at the same time cherish a hope that he truly means to end his engagement. Still, I had meant to wait… I cannot think why he would tell Jane I rejected him.”
“Lady Rebecca thinks he means to woo Jane for her fortune,” Marianne said.
Elinor stifled a groan, but her pen pressed against the paper until the nib was ruined. “You told Lady Rebecca? Marianne!”
“I am sorry, Elinor – but we did think that the colonel might – that is, we thought it would be a fine thing – perhaps he is a better man….”
“Marianne,” Mary gasped. “You ought not gossip about your own sister with a near stranger! Her heart is broken – it is a personal matter!”
“Thank you, Mary,” Elinor said. “I would not wish for Lady Rebecca to shade the colonel’s impression of me – to give him the idea that I am a damsel in distress or an otherwise pathetic figure.”
“But you are,” Marianne said, gesturing emphatically at her. “Edward has betrayed you a second time; I hope the colonel shall at least remind you that you are worthy of better treatment. For myself, I am resolved only to put up with the very best, or nothing at all.”
