9

Elizabeth’s pronouncement that they would visit Netherfield Park had set the house into a flurry of activity, and by dessert, Lydia and Kitty had dominated the conversation by talking endlessly of the approaching ball. They had only just managed to convince Mrs. Bennet that they should be permitted to go into Meryton to purchase the lace they had been pining for these many weeks, and Elizabeth supposed that it was as good an excuse as any to have the house to herself.

“Oh, please, Mama,” Lydia had whined. “We have been wearing naught but black and drab things for so long...”

Elizabeth caught the look on Mrs. Bennet’s face, and was somewhat proud of the way her mother controlled her emotions. If Elizabeth had been herself, and Mr. Collins had not been present, she had no doubt that her mother would have burst into a tirade of wailing tears at her youngest daughter’s thoughtless words.

Thankfully, Jane intervened and the girls were permitted to walk into town with Mr. Collins’ accompaniment; a stricture while gave Lydia cause to pout and Mr. Collins opportunity to smile proudly at being given such a charge.

“I will safeguard my dear cousins with a most watchful eye,” he announced grandly as he stirred his stewed apples with a silver spoon.

Elizabeth had observed all of this carefully, giving no clue to the nervousness she felt. After supper, she wrote to Mr. Bingley at Netherfield Park to announce the arrival of the true heir of Longbourn, and her wish to be presented to him.

Jane sat nearby and read the letter over before giving it to one of the servants to deliver.

“I am sure his reply will come quickly,” Jane said breathlessly, and Elizabeth tried to smile reassuringly, sobering as Mr. Collins entered the parlor once more.

“We shall see.”

“Mama, shall we take the carriage?” Jane asked, but Mrs. Bennet shook her head vehemently.

“No, indeed. I am expected for luncheon at Lucas Lodge, and you will do no such thing. It is not three miles to Netherfield Park, and there is no snow upon the ground. I daresay the walk will do you a world of good, Jane. And then Mr. Bingley may see you looking healthy and well… it will be an exhilarating walk, I have no doubt.”

Lydia opened her mouth to argue, but Mrs. Bennet silenced her youngest daughter with a glare. Lydia would have been quite right to complain, for Lucas Lodge lay on the other side of Meryton, and the carriage could easily fit all of them, but Mrs. Bennet seemed set upon being alone.

“I quite agree,” Mr. Collins interjected. “Why, Lady Catherine herself has often told me of how efficacious she finds the winter weather. In fact, she is very often seen walking the ground of Rosings Park when there is snow upon the ground.”

Lydia groaned and covered her face with her hands while Elizabeth smothered a smile and exchanged a glance with Jane.

“Then it is all settled,” Mrs. Bennet announced. “Jane, I expect that if Mr. Bingley offers you tea that you will accept graciously and stay as long as possible.”

“Mama,” Jane sighed. “I have taken advantage of Mr. Bingley’s hospitality on one occasion already, if he offers tea, we will, of course, accept, but we shall not overstay our welcome.”

“I have high hopes that a snow storm will spring up and keep you there overnight,” Mrs. Bennet said with a conspiratorial wink.

Jane looked desperate and Elizabeth cleared her throat. Taking that as a cue, Mr. Collins stood up from his chair. “Mr. Roberts, shall we leave these ladies to their frivolous discussions? I am ever so eager to hear of your business ventures in the wilderness of the Colonies. Perhaps over a glass of brandy?”

Elizabeth could not decline without raising suspicion, so she rose from her chair and bid her mother and sisters goodnight before following Mr. Collings out of the parlor and into her father’s study.

She would rather be doing a great many things other than speaking to Mr. Collins, but there was no avoiding such an invitation.

The fire was crackling merrily in the grate and the study was warm and inviting. Elizabeth felt a pang as she came through the door and expected to see her father settled in his favorite chair… the very same one that Mr. Collins seemed to have decided was the best place to seat himself. Elizabeth gritted her teeth as the waxy man poured two oversized glasses of her father’s brandy and held one out to her.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and took the crystal glass, setting it down on the fireplace mantle as Mr. Collins raised his glass in a toast.

“To you, Mr. Roberts,” he intoned. “May your acquisition of Longbourn be an easy transition, and may you enjoy its delights for many years to come.” He released a long sigh, and Elizabeth steeled herself against asking what the matter was. A gentleman would not enquire. Instead, she inclined her head and took a sip from her glass, barely wetting her lips.

It was one thing to have a glass of wine with supper, but entirely another to drink as much brandy as was in the glass Mr. Collins had given her, and Elizabeth had no intention of saying anything that could cause her embarrassment. Mr. Roberts needed to have a clear head… and that meant she did as well.

“I thank you, Mr. Collins,” she said finally. “And for volunteering to escort my young cousins into Meryton tomorrow. I do not know the town at all—“

“It is no imposition at all, Mr. Roberts. They are dear girls, who bring delight wherever they go and I shall miss them terribly when I depart for Kent.”

Mr. Collins was as terrible a liar as he was a conversationalist, and Elizabeth struggled not to smile at his attempt to flatter her younger sisters. Lydia had not been a ‘dear girl’ since she had left the nursery and even though Kitty was the elder of the pair, she seemed to be following Lydia’s wayward path. When Longbourn was well and truly theirs, Elizabeth was resolved to put some stricter rules in place for the youngest Bennet daughters.

“I am sure they shall feel the same,” Elizabeth said stiffly. Mr. Collins smiled broadly and inclined his head.

“I should tell you, Mr. Roberts, I am thrilled that you have decided to take my advice and visit Mr. Bingley at Netherfield Park. I do believe that he is the most amiable of gentlemen. Why, soon after my arrival here, when dear Cousin Jane took ill, he was most gracious—“

“Jane took ill?” Elizabeth asked, unable to stop herself from interrupting him. She regained her composure quickly, lest Mr. Collins see something more behind her question than an aloof sort of concern. Mr. Roberts had only just become acquainted with the Bennet’s after all…

“Why, yes, if I had known it would be a concern, I would have told you sooner, but I did not think on it,” Mr. Collins replied, oblivious to his companion’s discomfort. “When I arrived, and upon your late father’s insistence, Cousin Jane was kind enough to introduce me to Mr. Bingley, his friend Mr. Darcy, his brother-in-law Mr. Hurst, and his sisters.”

“Indeed,” Elizabeth replied, wetting her lips with brandy again.

“They were most gracious indeed, but during our walk to Netherfield Park, a torrential rain set upon us and we were quite… well… in need of a warm fire upon our arrival.”

Elizabeth had a flash of her father, lying in the bed in the corner of the study coughing his terrible cough as his illness had settled upon his lungs. The thought of Jane being ill as their father had been struck her with a cold jolt of fear.

“I see,” was all she replied.

“Oh yes,” Mr. Collins leapt from his chair to refill his glass and Elizabeth held up her hand to refuse a refill as he poured more brandy. Elizabeth bit on the inside of her cheek to see her father’s spirits so abused, but she could say nothing. “It did not take long before the chill had made Cousin Jane quite ill. Mr. Bingley and his sisters took very great care of her, and I felt confident to leave her in their care—“

“You left her at Netherfield Park?” Elizabeth spluttered, her hand knocking against the still-full glass of brandy. She attempted to recover herself and steadied the glass with a shaking hand. If she had been with Jane, she would never have left her alone, especially while she were ill…

Mr. Collins shook his head. “Your concern is very admirable, Mr. Roberts, you will make a fine guardian of the inhabitants of this estate, I have no doubt. Yes, Miss Bingley assured me that Cousin Jane would be given every care, and that they would see her well again.”

Elizabeth’s heart beat furiously in her chest at the thought of a stranger caring for Jane at such a time. It must have seemed a simple thing to Mr. Collins, but if anything had happened to Jane while she had been away in Bath, she would never have forgiven herself. She must remind herself to ask Jane about this event when they were next alone… it would be impossible to speak to her again tonight.

The clock on the mantle next to her chimed the hour and Elizabeth jumped just a little.

“True to their word, Cousin Jane was returned to us only a week after, her cheeks pink and her disposition much improved,” Mr. Collins said reassuringly. “Mr. Bingley even visited with Mr. Darcy to enquire after her health.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Oh, indeed?” she said. This was a very interesting piece of news… perhaps their mother was to be believed when she spoke of Jane’s engagement to be upon the horizon. She did not often give her mother’s delusions much credence, but this could be a rare occasion when such a thing might have been possible.

“It was quiet unexpected, but I was gratified to be able to reintroduce myself to Mr. Darcy. He is the nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, you know. She speaks of him often, and I was delighted to be able to carry the news to him that her Ladyship, and her daughter Miss Anne de Bourgh, are both in very good health.”

“I am sure that he was pleased to hear it,” Elizabeth said without much conviction. Both gentlemen were strangers to her, but she found herself predisposed to like Mr. Bingley. If Jane found him agreeable, and all reports of him seemed to be of a fair nature, it seemed right to assume that he would be so; and she did not expect that Jane would not bestow her affections unwisely.

Mr. Darcy, however, was another matter. Jane’s letters about the assembly mentioned him only in passing, but the way she described him had remained with her.

He appears aloof and with an air of reproach about him… and he would dance with no one but Mr. Bingley’s sisters, even when prompted by Sir William. His manners were polite, but cold…

If Mr. Bingley was so agreeable, what would tempt him to be friends with such a man whose first impressions were nothing short of disagreeable. She would have to see for herself to make her own assessment of the gentleman’s character.

Despite her protestations of exhaustion from traveling, Mr. Collins had kept Elizabeth in Mr. Bennet’s study until very late, and though she desperately wanted to speak to Jane, it would have been unseemly for her to enter the room Elizabeth had been given at such an hour.

She rose early, needing more time than usual to dress herself in Mr. Roberts’ clothes. Though Mrs. Gardiner had said that Elizabeth would need help to bind her breasts, Elizabeth was proud that she was able to do it herself. It also meant that there was less for Jane to explain as to why she was in her cousin’s bedchamber so early in the morning.

Mr. Bingley’s reply to the letter she had sent the night before arrived while the family was seated to breakfast. Elizabeth was too nervous to eat, and she pushed away her egg in favour of a cup of tea and the newspaper that Hill had set upon the table. Mr. Collins seemed not to notice it, and Elizabeth suspected that Hill’s action was more one of habit than courtesy for their guest. Guests, she corrected herself.

Hill’s new kitchen helper, a young girl Elizabeth had not seen before, brought Mr. Bingley’s letter into the dining room and set it at Elizabeth’s elbow.

“Ah!” Mr. Collins reached for the letter, but Elizabeth stopped him with a glare, opened it herself, and read it quietly before folding it again.

“Well… what does it say? Will he see you?” Mrs. Bennet asked after a moment.

“Of course he will,” Elizabeth replied. “You have all said that he is a most agreeable gentleman, I did not expect him to reply in any other manner.” That was, of course, a lie. Elizabeth had lain awake most of the night wondering what his reply would be and how she would survive that introduction.

“Indeed,” Mrs. Bennet replied. Elizabeth could see that she was anxious to read the letter so she passed it to Jane with a sigh, much as her father used to do. Mrs. Bennet reached for it eagerly and opened the letter to read it aloud.

Dear Mr. Roberts,

I welcome you, most heartily, to Hertfordshire and extend my hand in friendship to you as the heir to Longbourn. As we are to be neighbors, it is only proper that we become acquainted, and I await your visit eagerly.

We shall expect you for tea this afternoon.

Yours, Mr. C Bingley.

“Did you hear that, Jane, he awaits your visit most eagerly!” Mrs. Bennet crowed.

“Mama, Mr. Roberts did not mention that I would be going with him,” Jane said quietly.

Elizabeth snapped her newspaper open, interrupting her sister. “Of course I did,” she said. “How else would the introduction be made?”

“Ohhh, Jane!” Mrs. Bennet cried. “Did I not say?”

Elizabeth smiled behind her paper as she saw Jane’s cheeks redden slightly. She had, indeed, purposefully mentioned that Jane would accompany her. It was, at the same time, the most acceptable way to put Jane into Mr. Bingley’s sight, and represented the introduction ‘Mr. Roberts’ required. It seemed entirely improper to just ‘arrive’ on a stranger’s doorstep.

“Finish your egg, Kitty, I want to go into town now,” Lydia whined.

“Do, please,” Mrs. Bennet cried, clearly tired of everything happening at the breakfast table. “I am expected at Lucas Lodge and I must away! Jane, see to your sisters!”