“I...I am so tired. I did not sleep well last night.” It was another lie, and her eternal soul would be in danger if she continued along this path. “I apologise, Charlotte. What did you say?”
“I asked whether Mary will marry Mr Collins.”
“She has not decided, she says.”
“Will he return to Longbourn to gain his answer in person?”
“I do not know.”
“He deserves to hear directly from her that she does not want him, not through an impersonal letter!” Charlotte cried, her face flushing. “Forgive me, but Mary has raised his hopes, and if she will not have him, she ought to tell him so that someone else can take him!”
Elizabeth was so shocked at this outburst from her usually practical, stolid friend that she did not reiterate her own opinions of Mr Collins—after all, she had already shared them.
“I-I really cannot tell you what Mary intends to do. She will only say that she is considering it.”
“It is most unkind of her to keep a good man on tenterhooks,” Charlotte insisted. “It is not a difficult question. She must know whether or not she could tolerate him as a husband.”
Elizabeth only stared at her friend for some moments. Charlotte’s fists were clenched, and she leant forward as though she wished to choke explanations out of Elizabeth.
“My dear Charlotte, do you wish for his return for-for personal reasons?”
“Why not? If he is good enough for Mary, he is certainly good enough for me.”
“I am surprised, that is all. You have agreed with me that he is not sensible.”
Charlotte shrugged. “I do not ask for sense, only my own home, my own place in life as someone besides an impoverished relation. How much time do your parents spend with each other? My mother and father are hardly ever together. I suppose there are mealtimes, but not every one of those. Carriage rides, to church and the occasional village affair when our hems mustn’t be spoiled. The infrequent rant, when he has done something stupid and must blame someone else for it. A few short hours a week in his company seems fair in exchange for an establishment of my own.”
Elizabeth’s brows rose. “Even…” She was too embarrassed to say what she meant, but Charlotte understood.
“The marital bed? I certainly could managehimin that, amongst other domestic arrangements. I would organise our lives according to my preferences, and once I had a child or two, that part of our union would be at an end.”
Elizabeth could only shake her head. “If Mary decides against him, and he turns to you instead, I would be happy for you, of course.” Despite her words, she was disappointed.I knew she was practical, but this is taking it too far. At least Mr Goulding is not ridiculous.
“If Mary refuses him, and he does not return to Meryton, his patroness will likely find him a bride who meets with her approval.” Charlotte closed her eyes. Her cheeks were still stained pink. “Youcould never be happy with such a man as Mr Collins. No one who ever dreamt rosy dreams of a handsome prince could. But I never did. There is only one thing I have ever wanted, and that is a home that is not Lucas Lodge or any of my brothers’. I would be happy at Mr Collins’s vicarage, and should he outlive your father, Longbourn will become his eventually. How you must hate me for saying that,” she cried. “I would despise anyone who tookmyhome away fromme! I promise you, Eliza, that if you were to see that Mr Collins returns, even if—especiallyshould Mary decide against him, I would ensure your mother, and any of your sisters who needed it would always have a home at Longbourn. A good home. A happy home. No stranger that he meets in Kent would do better for your family, I vow. I shall not bring this up again, but I had to say it once.”
The following day, Elizabeth was about to make her escape to the folly. She was nearly breathless with the twin emotions of excitement and despair, expecting there would be a new gift or simple comfort, something from Mr Darcy demonstrating that he cared for her, that he wanted tocheerher. Hissolepurpose might be because he felt sorry for her, but that did not keep her from looking forward to his thoughtfulness, his…yes,sweetness,to say it another way.
But as she passed the parlour containing the pianoforte, there sat Mary at the instrument, quite alone, not touching it. There was something a bit discontented or annoyed in her pose. She was staring at the keys as if they had just bitten her, and she was considering biting them back. With a sigh, Elizabeth turned away from her escape to temporary freedom and entered the room.
“Is something the matter, Mary?”
Her sister turned slowly towards her, as though recalling herself from a great distance.
“The matter? No, nothing is wrong.” A frown remained on her lips.
Elizabeth sat in a nearby chair. “Are you debating whether you should accept Mr Collins? I hope you do not consider it only to prevent us from losing Longbourn.” Remembering Charlotte’s passion for a home and not a man, she added, “However, there is nothing wrong with marrying to ensure your future security, if that is what you want most. Just be very certain you would be content with your choice.”
Mary looked up and nodded slowly. “It is a very sensible reason for marriage. There is a solidity in his reflections which has often impressed me. Hemightbe a very agreeable companion. Or, he might grow ever more ridiculous as he ages. It is difficult to say which.”
“Very true,” Elizabeth agreed, wondering how he could possibly becomemoreridiculous.
“Perhaps he would listen only to Lady Catherine de Bourgh. He certainly admires her greatly. If she is a sensible woman, I will admire her as well. But who can tell? I would not enjoy having another female instruct and direct me should I not respect her.”
“That would be difficult,” Elizabeth murmured.
“On the other hand, I feel well-suited to the life of a vicarage and to arranging my works for the benefit of a parish.”
“You would make an excellent manager of any home, Sister.”
