Page 32 of A Prudent Engagement

And suddenly the dam burst, and she started crying as she looked at her papa’s body.

Poor, poor Papa.

Her mother and Jane embraced her, and she embraced them.

She spilled her tears on their shoulders.

When they returned to the drawing room, the tea had been set out, and Elizabeth took hers without any sugar, savouring the bitter flavour.

“Do you know what Mr. Collins means to do?” her mother asked.

“He intends to come on Monday, but Charlotte promised me that he will be in no hurry to evict us—he means to remain at Hunsford and rent the estate out.”

“Lord! That is the least he could do,” her mother replied. “And us being cousins—and especially after he married one of those scheming Lucases, instead of asking Mary or Kitty to wife after you refused him! Some men have no sense of family obligation.”

“No, ma’am.” Elizabeth stared into the dark surface of her tea. “Some people truly have no concern for family obligations.”

The more she liked the prospect of marriage to him, the guiltier she felt at the thought of accepting Mr. Darcy. He deserved better than to be accepted by a woman who only married him for his wealth and because she had no other choice.

She had reached the point where if it was only the sacrifice of her own happiness it would have been easy.

But Mr. Darcy had been kind, and he had been affectionate, and she was coming to understand him as a truly honourable man. She did not want to betray him. And accepting him for mercenary reasons felt as though it would be a betrayal.

Her mama came to sit next to Elizabeth, and she embraced her. “Lord, but you did make an awful mistake when you refused Mr. Collins. You must regret that now. I told you. I did tell you! But some girls are determined to have their own way and to think nothing of their future until it is too late. But what is done is done, and you are my daughter, and you will never hear another word on the subject from me. I see that you feel your mistake deeply.”

“I do,” Elizabeth replied.

“Mama,” Jane said, “Elizabeth did not make a mistake. No one should ever marry without proper affection.”

“And you lost Mr. Bingley.” Their mother wiped her eyes. “But you would have had him if you could. And you will likely sicken and die of a sore heart, and you will be dead like my poor Mr. Bennet, and then he will hear about it and know that he treated you abominably, and I hope he feels guilty about it, and that will be the end.”

Lydia leapt to her feet. “Mama! Stop saying such awful things. Jane won’t die too!”

The young girl ran from the room, leaving their mother sitting next to Elizabeth with her face in her hands. “I hardly know what to do. I did not expect Lydia to take Mr. Bennet’s death so hard. They were not so close, you know. But she has been more affected than either Mary or Kitty. But we all miss him. We do so much. But we must be practical—Brother, I shall need your help.”

“I shall do whatever I reasonably can,” Mr. Gardiner said in a tone that sounded a little cautious to Elizabeth.

The sober businessman in her uncle was, no doubt, aware of what resources he had and that his own children would have the first call on them.

“When the mourning period is over, will you take in Lydia and Kitty and see they are invited about in London? Perhaps they will marry. It is useless to send Jane or Elizabeth on such a quest. Lizzy is too particular—she will find an odd reason to refuse any eligible offer—she is too much like her father. But she was not born a son, and she does not understand that she cannot expect to always have her own way, like a gentleman can. And Jane is heartbroken. She will have to live with us until she recovers.”

“I have decided to become a governess,” Jane said. “That will provide a little extra money for us all and spare you the expense of supporting me. It will be easiest that way.”

“A governess!” their mother exclaimed. “Nonsense! Lord, you torment my nerves. No, no. If you enter service that way, you will never marry well—you are too beautiful to be a governess. Once our period of mourning ends, we shall make certain to introduce you to a great many men, and you will find one whom you like, one who can support a wife who brings him nothing but herself. You will still be pretty enough. If only you do not die of a broken heart!”

“I hope,” Jane replied stiffly, “that I am too sensible to do such a thing.”

“Well, you were not sensible enough to see that becoming a governess is an awful idea,” her mother replied. “And that would be worse.”

“Worse than dying of heartbreak?” Elizabeth asked in a wry tone.

Her mama was acting in a more sensible and restrained manner than Elizabeth had expected, but she was still very much her mother.

After that, discussions started about what accommodation they would take. The current thought was something small in Meryton itself, near the home of the Phillipses. They would all be rather crowded and could not each have their own room. But once mourning had ended and Kitty and Lydia were sent off to Mr. Gardiner, it would become quite comfortable.

Elizabeth’s brain flashed back again and again to her papa’s dead, white face.

The hands.