Mary said nothing to this, and after some time, went back into the house. A storm was brewing, and Elizabeth knew she ought to follow her sister’s sensible retreat. Still, she remained unmoving for fully half an hour. She would have liked to stay outside until Mr Collins’s departure, if only she could.
Elizabeth finally gave in and went back into the house. However, instead of hearing her mother wailing in her quarters, she found the house eerily silent. A maid was coming down the hall toward her, and she stopped the girl before she made it to the pantry doors. “Where is everyone?” she asked.
The girl curtsied. “Please, miss, your mother is in her room and has just fallen asleep. Your two younger sisters have gone to Meryton with Miss Bennet. I believe Mr Collins has also left for town. He is to stay in one of the public houses until he can catch the stage in the morning.”
“And my father?” Elizabeth asked.
“In his study, Miss. Shall I say you wish to see him?”
“No, thank you. That is all, Betsy. You may go.” She dismissed the young girl, thankful for some peace and quiet in which to sort out her thoughts.
Mr Collins was gone, truly gone! She bounded up the steps toward her bedroom, feeling lighter than she had since his arrival. Elizabeth went to her writing desk, pulling out her diary to jot down her thoughts. Never had the chance to put her feelings and thoughts into perspective been more welcome. When she was finished, she went to the window seat and sat down, wrapping a warm blanket around her to watch the rain fall against the glass panes. As she was pulling out her book to pick up where she had left off, she heard the sound of carriage wheels passing on the road outside. She frowned when she saw it was Mr Darcy’s private carriage. He looked up at the house as he passed, and Elizabeth instinctively ducked down so he would not see her. But it had been too late. He met her gaze, then nodded as the carriage continued on its way. The way he had looked at her sent a chill up her spine, but not of foreboding. What had that look been? Sadness at his leaving, longing, even? She shookher head and sat back down on the window seat, resting her hand against the cold glass.
“Where is he going?” she wondered aloud as the carriage disappeared down the lane. She had heard nothing of his departure. Could it be that she had hit on a stroke of good luck? Would both of the men who had caused her no end of annoyance and embarrassment be out of her life for good?
Chapter 12
As the days passed after Mr Collins’ departure, life settled back into a quiet routine at Longbourn. After Mr Collins’s departure the day after the Netherfield ball and Mr Darcy’s abrupt retirement from the county, Elizabeth rarely had anything to dismay or upset her.
Nor was she the only member of the neighbourhood who seemed to find it a pleasant change. Mr Darcy’s absence seemed rather a cause for general relief — and not a little curiosity. Despite the best efforts of the gossip mill, the reason for his departure remained largely a mystery. It seemed that Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy had had a falling out, but despite Jane’s gentle pressing, she could not find out anything more for their mother from Mr Bingley. Disliking gossip as Jane did, likely the pressing had been very gentle indeed.
Privately, Elizabeth wondered at what had come between them to cause the breach. They had seemed such fast friends, and even though she did not care a stitch about Mr Darcy’s feelings, she thought it a pity that Mr Bingley should be upset by the man. She could only hope that Jane’s continued company would soon help him forget any sadness he might feel over his difficult friend.
“Mama?” Kitty spoke up one morning during what had been a leisurely breakfast. “Lydia and I have heard some news that we simply must tell you.”
Elizabeth raised a brow at her sister’s excited tone.
“Oh, do let me tell it, Kitty!” Lydia exclaimed from across the table.
“No, I want to tell it. I heard it from Lady Lucas, and I should be the one to tell the others!” Kitty pouted, looking to their father for some support.
She was to be disappointed. Mr Bennet hardly troubled himself to look over his newspaper at the exchange. He only uttered a heavy sigh, then muttered something unintelligible from behind the black and white page.
“I am older, I should be the one —” Kitty began, but she Lydia swooped in and blurted the news before she could speak another word.
“Mama, the militia is coming!” Lydia clapped her hands and bounced in her seat. She looked about the table as though she expected congratulations for her cleverness in reporting such news.
Kitty uttered a cry of dismay, but she was drowned out by her mother’s cry of excitement. “Oh, happy day! My goodness, what took you so long to tell me?” Their mother got up and started flitting about the breakfast room. “We must prepare ourselves posthaste!”
“Mama, surely they are not coming to call now, if they have only just arrived. They will need at least a few days to settle into their camp,” Mary said. “Besides, I think chasing after the militia is a vulgar pastime. We would all be better served by staying in to read Fordyce’s sermons, as Mr Collins so oftensuggested.” At the mention of their cousin, Mary’s eyes were downcast. Of late, they had often been so.
Though Mary was certainly the only one of the Bennet family to miss the man, Elizabeth could not help but feel sorry for her sister. Perhaps Mr Collins would have been a good match for her serious sister, after all. She certainly would have gone off to be his wife in a heartbeat if he had only given her a passing glance.
Despite Mary’s chidings, Kitty and Lydia could not be dissuaded from walking into Meryton and attempting to spy some of the newly arrived soldiers. Exchanging only a silent nod, Elizabeth and Jane resolved to go with them, lest their youngest sisters be left to their own guidance and rather lax standards of behaviour. Mary stayed behind, resolved not to waver from her distaste for the idea.
At least it was a pleasant day for an outing. Elizabeth and Jane remained several paces behind Lydia and Kitty as they walked. Their younger sisters chattering excitedly all the way, wondering what the men would be like and exclaiming about how handsome they would be in their red coats.
Elizabeth sighed as they walked. “We shall have a time reining them in,” she said, shaking her head. “I do not understand why Papa allows it.” She shook her head, wishing there was something she could say to prevail upon their father.
“He wants some peace and quiet, I presume,” Jane said mildly.
Their father surely did want his peace and quiet, but at what cost? If he would not trouble himself to check their youngest sisters, their behaviour could only grow worse. She did not think her parents had been so lenient with her and Jane when they were young. As more and more daughters were addedto the family, it was almost as though her father had given up. Despite her best efforts, their mother had continued to give him daughters, with no hope of a male heir to carry on the name or the inheritance. And while she knew their father loved them, his inattentiveness caused a nagging doubt in the back of her mind.
“Oh, I do hope there are some handsome ones. I do not wish to marry a pockmarked, invalid hero. He must be handsome. And charming!” Lydia was saying as she and Kitty practically bounced down the lane.
Elizabeth cleared her throat. “That is no way to talk about someone who has been defending your country from harm, Lydia. What if you find a man who has battle scars but has a good heart?”
Lydia only waved her off. “One has a choice in whom one marries, Lizzy. And I have decided to find a handsome, charming man. A captain, perhaps!” She clapped her hands together and gave an exaggerated sigh. “Any red coat is handsome, of course, but the captains, with their frills and trimmings —” she put a hand to her forehead as though she were about to faint. “I could die when I see a captain in his fine red coat.”
