Her friend glanced down as if to compose herself. “You are correct, Eliza. I have never been in love. Be on your guard, lest you dismiss the most eligible man you will likely ever meet due to a petty grudge and wounded vanity.”
Charlotte turned and left the parsonage again without bothering with her outerwear. Elizabeth whirled and went to her chambers, locking the door behind her. The tears fell and she collapsed on her bed.
I am sorry, Charlotte,she thought to herself. All her frustration toward Mr. Darcy, toward Jane, and even toward her father for not stopping her sister’s marriage came forward and she wept.Oh, Jane. How can you bear it? How do you continue knowing as you do that your husband is a nonsensical man whom you could never truly love?
She spent the rest of the afternoon in her chambers, claiming a headache when teatime arrived. Her hunger drove her from her room for the evening meal, and she prepared her apologies to Charlotte. She had not meant to wound her friend, but her anger had caused her to be inconsiderate and rude to her dearest friend. Charlotte’s hurt had been apparent, and Elizabeth wished to make amends.
She chose a seat away from Elizabeth during dinner, and it was not until after the meal that Elizabeth managed to steal a moment of her friend’s attention. Jane left them alone for a fewminutes as she attended to another matter and Elizabeth took the opportunity to make her amends.
“I am sorry,” she murmured as she sat next to Charlotte on the settee. “My words were harsh and cruel, and I ought not to have uttered them.”
“I will forgive you on one condition.” Charlotte turned to face her fully. “Remember my words when Mr. Darcy proposes. It is as I said this afternoon. Be on your guard lest you cast aside the most eligible man you will ever meet.”
“I will remember them, despite my belief that Mr. Darcy will never make me an offer.” Elizabeth thought the idea ludicrous. The gentleman from Derbyshire did not view her in such a manner. Friend of his sister, acquaintance from Hertfordshire; those appellations fit her. Lover, betrothed, wife? Those were reserved for another, more exalted lady.
Charlotte kindly changed the uncomfortable subject. “Have you noted that Jane appears under the weather?”
“I have.” Elizabeth latched onto the subject gratefully. “Shall we ask her about it before Mr. Collins comes in?”
“I think we ought to. If it is what I suspect, then I believe we have no reason for alarm.” Charlotte smiled smugly.
“You will not tell me?” Elizabeth huffed playfully and folded her arms as she had seen Lydia do countless times.
“Think, Elizabeth, and you will have the answer for yourself.” Charlotte shook her head in mock-censure. “And behaving as Lydia! I never thought you capable of such petulance!”
She replied with equal teasing. “I am as able as my sister to pout and complain. I simply need the proper inducement.”
“What are you two quibbling about?” Jane entered the room.
“Elizabeth wishes me to disclose my suspicions.” Charlotte looked hard at Jane, smiling a small smile.
Jane flushed and her hand went to her stomach. “I have not felt the quickening yet,” she whispered. “You must not tell Mr. Collins.”
“Jane.” Elizabeth’s strained whisper sounded unhappy, even to her own ears.
“I believe I am with child, Elizabeth. Are you not pleased? You will be an aunt, and, if it is a boy, Longbourn’s entail will end.” Jane’s serene smile did not seem feigned, yet Elizabeth could not believe her sister so sanguine about her state. She wished to protest, to rage, but there was nothing to be done. Marriages could not be dissolved easily, and Jane’s position as Mrs. Collins was for life.
“I am so pleased,” she said instead, struggling to imbue her words with genuine happiness. “Mama will be ecstatic.”
“It brings me joy to know these tidings will bring my mother so much pleasure.” Jane sat in her chair. “Shall I ring for tea?”
Elizabeth only nodded, glancing at Charlotte. Her friend’s gaze turned toward the door and Elizabeth turned to see what drew Charlotte’s attention. A shadow moved past the partially open doorway, and Charlotte frowned. She turned and met Elizabeth’s gaze. Concern marred her expression and Elizabeth comprehended her friend’s thoughts.Does Jane know her conversations are not private in her own home?
Chapter Eighteen
April 1, 1812
Hunsford, Kent
Charlotte
She waited in the garden for Sir Andrew to appear. The baronet had not failed to present himself every day except Sunday. He usually came mid-morning, after Elizabeth had already departed the parsonage for her walk. No one knew about her clandestine rambles with Sir Andrew; Charlotte selfishly guarded the information. She did not want to share his company with anyone. Despite knowing that he would never offer for her, she felt the stirrings of tender feelings toward him.
It was the height of foolishness to fall in love with a confirmed bachelor. Such men could not be induced into matrimony for anything other than their own inclination. Surely, other ladies had attempted to gain his notice and failed. Ladies withfiner looks, breeding, accomplishments, lineage… Charlotte had always known her small dowry would be little inducement for any gentleman. Her lot would be to marry a shopkeeper or other tradesman. Her five hundred pounds would not be enough to live on without support. Twenty pounds per annum was a pittance. Certainly, it was more than many housemaids earned, but they were given room and board. She would not have that.
Sir Andrew’s teasing and irreverent behavior he often displayed for company masked the man she had first witnessed when dining at Rosings Park. He gave the impression that he cared for none but himself, that the feelings of others deserved only disdain and dismissal, but his concern for his cousin had disabused Charlotte of her previous notions. Since that evening, Sir Andrew had been more open with her, and their rapport grew with every meeting.
“Miss Lucas.” He stood by the gate. Charlotte had completely missed his arrival amidst her thoughts.
