“Mama has always been overly fretful.” Elizabeth’s disdain for their mother’s anxious nature could be heard in her voice. “It is likely someone in the militia who is in need of funds.”
“Which means when the militia departs, so will the thief,” Charlotte reasoned. “If they do not catch the culprit before that happens, all the stolen items will likely be lost forever.”
“How distressing. Mama will mourn the loss of her valuables.” Elizabeth said. Her manner seemed flippant, and a displeased expression crossed her face as she reread the letter in her hand.
“Lizzy, you are being unkind.” Jane censured her sister. Elizabeth, she knew, comprehended their mother’s fear of the hedgerows. Their mother’s fears permeated every aspect of their life and made her sensitive to any conflict. “You ought not to mock or make light of the situation.”
Elizabeth showed contrition. “I apologize, Jane. It is only that her letter to me is so terribly nonsensical. She insists that Isecure Sir Andrew and claims I cannot expect to marry anyone else if I keep disregarding perfectly suitable suitors.”
Jane noted the stiffening of Charlotte’s posture and wondered why Elizabeth’s words seemed to discompose her so. “You will disabuse our mother of her commands, of course?” she asked.
“Yes, I will. Sir Andrew is far too flippant and unconcerned for my liking.” Charlotte’s posture relaxed again.
“And Mr. Darcy?” Jane probed her sister, wondering what Elizabeth would say.
“He is as disapproving and proud as ever.” Elizabeth’s statement lacked the distaste she had previously shown toward the haughty gentleman from Derbyshire, and she wondered if her sister’s opinion toward him had softened.
“He walks with you most days.”
Elizabeth groaned. “I know! I do not know how we stumble upon each other so often. There are plenty of other walking paths. Why can he not choose one of them?”
“Stumble upon?” Charlotte repeated shrewdly. “Are you certain your encounters are an accident?”
“Ido not seek to encounter him. I would rather complete my ramble in solitude than suffer his presence.”
Methinks thou dost protest too much, sister.Jane smothered her smirk. Elizabeth clearly wished to hold onto her resentment like a tattered shawl that threatened to blow away in the wind.
“You have accounted for your preferences, Lizzy,” she said, “but that does not account for Mr. Darcy and his. I think he admires you. Charlotte has said so too. Will you continue to deny it?”
“I shall! Your imaginations are out of control,” she jested teasingly. “How can a gentleman declare a lady tolerable and not handsome and admire her at the same time?”
“It is simple. He did not truly think youonly tolerable.” Charlotte replied. “Lizzy, a gentleman who does not wish to bein the presence of a lady will not offer to escort her anywhere, let alone on a solitary walk in the trees or on a quiet path. He will tip his hat to her in acknowledgement and depart.”
“I will concede that he has been amiable and friendly, but that does not mean he admires me. It could mean that he finds my company preferable to that of the others at Rosings Park, or he has decided he will condescend to offer me his friendship.”
Elizabeth’s stubbornness will be her undoing.Jane shook her head. “You think that, if it gives you comfort.”
Her sister gasped, pretending affront. “Et tu, Brute?” she asked.
“Yes, and me.” Jane smirked. “It is time to dress for dinner. Shall we depart in an hour?”
Conversation closed, Elizabeth and Charlotte nodded. They left the room first and Jane followed behind them. She could only hope that her sister’s immoveable opinions did not give her cause for regret someday.
Chapter Twenty
April 9, 1812
Hunsford, Kent
Elizabeth
Elizabeth walked the lane that morning. She did not wish for Mr. Darcy’s company that day, having encountered him on her rambles nearly every day in the last week. Her strolls with him had given her greater understanding of his character, but she stubbornly held on to her beliefs of his superior behavior and arrogance. What did he want with her? Just the other day he had asked probing questions about her desire to leave Longbourn.Fifty miles of good road. Bah.Such ideas confirmed his arrogance. Fifty miles of good road might mean little to a man of means, but it meant that Elizabeth did not often get to see her most beloved sister. Jane, who had tied herself to Mr. Collins for some mysterious reason she had yet to relate—hersister had not fulfilled her promise to tell all yet, and Elizabeth’s visit would end in two days.
She did not regret her time in Kent, having confirmed her sister’s professed contentment for herself and seen a more confident Jane than the one that had left Longbourn. And, she had come to know Colonel Fitzwilliam, too, and admired his cheerful and stalwart personality. The gentleman’s loyalty impressed her; one must have much of that trait and a large helping of tolerance to be long in Mr. Darcy’s company.
“Ho, there!” The same gentleman appeared in the lane ahead of her. “How do you do, Miss Bennet?”
“I am well, Colonel, and you?” She smiled.
