Jane turned and pinned her with a fierce stare.
“I do not see why I should have to endure such a rude line of questioning from the likes of you.” Jane rose and went behind the screen. She pulled off her gown and undid her stays as she talked, hanging the garments over the screen. “Besides, I shall be the mistress of Longbourn one day.”
“And that is really enough enticement to accept Mr Collins?”
Jane appeared from behind the screen in her nightgown and looked down her nose at Elizabeth. “I do not see why I shouldn’t be as happy with Mr Collins as with any other.”
“He’s ridiculous!” Elizabeth whispered with more harshness than she had meant. “Are you sure you want to marry him?”
“Hush!” Jane said. “Since you ruined my chances with Mr Bingley, I have no other choice. I am already twenty-two, and I must have an establishment.”
Elizabeth was too shocked for a moment to respond. She stood and went to Jane, who had sat down at the vanity again to brush out her long, blonde hair. “I think it rather unfair to pass the blame for what happened with Mr Bingley off on me.”
Jane said nothing, but Elizabeth knew she was angry by the way she ripped at her curls. She went on, gently this time. What she had to say would take delicacy and understanding. “Did you know that Mr Collins proposed to me first?”
Jane slammed the brush down and stood. “Of course I know! And of course you would choose the richer man! I am just sorry Mr Darcy fell for your duplicity.” She let out a gasp of frustration. “I cannot believe you accepted Mr Collins, then broke your promise and went straight to Mr Darcy. I’ve a mind to tell him just what sort of woman you really are.”
Elizabeth could not hold back the look of shock this time. She let out a disbelieving laugh. “I never accepted Mr Collins. He would simply not take no for an answer.”
“That may be your story, but I know the truth, Elizabeth,” Jane said, almost spitting her name, as if it had a bitter taste. “I suspect the only reason Mr Darcy asked for your hand is because something untoward happened while you were in Scotland. That is a dangerous way to catch a rich husband, for you might have ruined all of your sisters along with yourself.”
“Nothing illicit happened between Mr Darcy and me,” Elizabeth protested. “We are in love with each other, that is all.” For a moment, Elizabeth closed her eyes. The injustice of it was almost too much to bear. She opened them again, for however difficult it was to reach Jane, she must try. “Jane, I cannot bear to see you make such a mistake. If you have accepted Mr Collins out of anger towards me, you will always regret it. You deserve a man you can respect, Jane! If I am wrong in all this, if you truly love and care for him, then tell me so!”
Jane said nothing, her lips pursing into a thin line, until Elizabeth could barely see it.
“Will you not speak to me?” Elizabeth pleaded.
“There is nothing for me to say,” Jane said coldly. “You have made it clear that you are no friend to me.”
Elizabeth turned and went to the door, but before she went out, she turned to Jane one last time. She knew it would likely be futile, but she had to try. “Do you really hate me so much that you would relegate yourself to a loveless marriage with Mr Collins, a man you certainly do not respect?”
Jane’s face grew flushed with rage. “Get out, Elizabeth. I do not want to see your face again, do you hear me? I never want to see you again!”
Elizabeth leant back, feeling as though Jane had slapped her across the face. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she opened the door slowly, being careful not to let it creak. “Good night, Jane,” she whispered as she walked out. She closed the door softly behind her and went across the hall to her own room.
Her shoulders bowed with despair, Elizabeth undressed and changed into her nightgown before slipping into bed. Even with all the harsh words they had exchanged, she felt terribly sad for the mistake Jane was making, for her marriage to Mr Collins could do nothing but make both of them miserable. As she lay in bed, one question raced through her mind over and over again: Had she ever really known Jane at all?
The door creaked open several minutes later, and she sat up, hoping that it was Jane come to make amends. “Jane?” Elizabeth whispered into the darkness.
“Mary,” her middle sister answered. “I am sorry to disappoint.”
“Oh, Mary. You do not disappoint. I only thought —” Elizabeth let her words trail off. It did not matter what she had thought. Things would likely never be right between her and Jane again. “Come in, if you like.”
Mary did, closing the door softly behind her before padding in her stocking feet over to the bed. “May I?” she asked, pointing to the coverlet.
Mary had never been one for late-night talks or sisterly conversations, but Elizabeth scooted over and let her sister crawl between the sheets. They lay down and stared at the ceilingfor a moment. “Are you well, Lizzy?” Mary asked, breaking the silence.
Elizabeth sighed. “Not really,” she admitted. “Did you hear any of that?”
“Yes, I did. It was hard not to hear, since we share a wall,” she said. “I am sorry, Lizzy. I do not know what has got into Jane lately.”
“Neither do I,” Elizabeth said. Tears streamed down her face, and she was glad that she had already blown out the candle so Mary would not see.
“Lizzy?” Mary asked, her voice sounding as hesitant as if she were a little girl, and not the nearly grown woman she was.
“Yes, Mary?”
“How do you know if you’re in love?”
