Elizabeth
The following morning, a bird sang outside, but Elizabeth experienced no cheer at the sound as she usually did. Instead, dread assaulted her like an unexpected wave on a sunny day at the beach.
In the garden, surrounded by urgency and the fortune hunters closing in on Mr Darcy like predators, her declaration had possessed a certain terrible logic. She had seen a threat and acted to neutralise it, impulsively, yes, but with clear purpose.
Now, in the cold clarity of dawn, she could scarcely comprehend what she had done.
She was engaged to a gentleman she had just met. All because she had opened her mouth without thinking the consequences through. She had acted to prevent his entrapment. Instead, she had ensnared them both.
A soft knock preceded Jane’s entrance. “Lizzy? Are you awake?”
She sat up, pressing her fingers against her temples where a dull ache had taken up residence. “Unfortunately.”
Jane crossed to the window and drew back the curtains fully, revealing a sky that had no business being so cheerful given the catastrophe Elizabeth faced.
“Breakfast is ready downstairs. Mama has been asking for you. She wishes to discuss wedding arrangements.”
She grabbed her sister’s hand, as if seeking something to hold on to. “Jane, no. Please tell me this is some nightmare from which I shall wake presently.”
Her sister settled on the edge of the bed, taking Elizabeth’s hand between both of hers. The gesture, so familiar and comforting, threatened to undo what remained of her fragile composure.
“I wish I could offer such reassurance. But I fear the situation is quite real. The news has spread with remarkable speed. Mrs Smith called early this morning, ostensibly to return a borrowed book, but really to extend her congratulations. Aunt Ahearn has already turned away three more visitors, all bearing similarly transparent pretences.”
Elizabeth shuddered against the tide of mortification. “The entire town knows.”
“They do. Mrs Smith mentioned hearing of it from her cousin, who learnt of it from someone who was not even present at the garden party. Gossip travels faster than any mail coach, it seems.”
“What am I to do?”
“Come downstairs. Eat something, even if you have no appetite. We shall face this together, as we always have.”
The breakfast room proved less an ordeal than Elizabeth had anticipated, largely because Mrs Bennet’s enthusiasticplanning consumed most conversation. Wedding dates, the superiority of English lace over Irish, whether the ceremony should take place in Hertfordshire or Derbyshire—all received equal weight in her mother’s endless discourse whilst she pushed eggs about her plate without managing to swallow a single bite.
Mary observed her from across the table with sympathy and Wilhelmina, seated to Elizabeth’s right, occasionally pressed her arm in silent support. Even these small kindnesses felt almost too much to bear.
When breakfast finally concluded, Jane extracted Elizabeth from their mother’s continuing monologue in her efficient manner. “Mama, I believe Lizzy requires some air. We shall take a turn about the garden.”
“Not too long a turn,” Mrs Bennet cautioned, too absorbed in her matrimonial calculations to truly attend to them. “Mr Darcy will surely be calling today, and Elizabeth must be present to receive him properly. First impressions after an engagement are nearly as important as first impressions before one!”
Of course he would call, Elizabeth reminded herself. They had matters to discuss. Terrible, mortifying matters that must be addressed before this charade progressed any further.
Jane led her not to the garden but to the private sitting room on the first floor, where Mary and their cousin already waited. The moment the door closed behind them, her composure shattered.
She gulped down a lump that had sat in her throat since waking. “I have ruined everything. He will despise me for this.How could I have been so foolish? So impulsive? I acted without thinking, and now—now—”
“Tell us what happened,” Jane encouraged, guiding her to the sofa. “From the beginning. We know you announced an engagement, but not why or how it came about.”
Elizabeth drew a shaky breath and began narrating what occurred in disordered fragments. Her overhearing Mrs Thorne and her granddaughters plotting in the grove, their scheme to trap Mr Darcy in a compromising situation and so on.
“They were herding him towards the house and I could see he was uncomfortable. He knew something was wrong, but he could not determine how to extricate himself without causing a scene. And I remembered our earlier conversation, how kind he had been about Lucas Lodge, and I thought I could do the same for him.”
“So you intervened,” Mary said.
“I tried to create an excuse for him to leave their company but Mrs Thorne saw through it and would not yield. She pressed harder, insisting they were escorting him to the library. And I panicked.”
“That is when you announced the engagement,” Wilhelmina supplied.
“Yes.” Elizabeth buried her face in her hands. “I hoped it would create enough confusion for Mr Darcy to escape, that perhaps we could quietly retract the statement once they had withdrawn. But then Lydia shrieked it across the entire garden.”
