“For the good ofherself!And for the good of a cousin she barely knows. She does not protect our family, she is prepared todestroyit for her own security!”
Jane hesitated, “Our sisters will be better for the arrangement. She must think of them, Lizzie, as well as of her oldest children. You and I always knew that we would be called upon to help them.”
“They are safe. Mama knew that the moment she learned of my husband’s fortune.” Elizabeth’s eyes blazed. “She set herself upon this wretched path, Jane, and is too stubborn and greedy to change her mind. I challenged her authority, and she punishedyoufor my unfilial betrayal! Are those the actions of a woman who acts for the good of others, Jane? Do not dare defend her to me!”
The older girl sighed. She was not at all shocked by her sister’s fury and looked resigned to it. It had doubtless already played out in her head, since she knew Elizabeth’s mind so intimately. Elizabeth still expected her sweet-natured sister to find some way to excuse their mother for her cruelty, and so she was surprised when Jane nodded.
“You are right, Lizzie. Mama’s treatment of us both has been unforgivable. But I had totry,my love. For one last time, I had to try to find a shred of our dear mama in the cruel woman she has become. Oh Lizzie, I could not even bear to see our aunt and uncle in London. I desperately wanted to, but… but how could I explain the matter? How could I listen to their excuses, or suffer their comfort? Even if Caroline had allowed me to visit Gracechurch Street, I should have been wretched.”
“Perhaps, when mama is out of Mr. Collins’ influence, she might change.” Elizabeth doubted it, but the thought made her sister brighten up a little. “Jane, what happened when mama and Mr. Collins read your letter?”
Jane swallowed hard and said, “It was Mr. Collins who agreed to let me come here. He has the right to make such decisions, he said, since we are engaged.”
“But you did not accept him!”
“It matters not. He has it in writing - in my own hand - that Iwillaccept him. He has returned to Hunsford to show his patroness the document in person. Our cousin hopes that Lady Catherine de Bourgh will see my visit to Pemberley as a chance to meet me in person, as she herself plans to stay here in the summer. Nodoubt Mr. Collins will accompany her, and then we shall leave together to be married.”
“Lady Catherine has not been invited.” Elizabeth replied flatly, taking her sister’s arm, “Let’s go inside, dearest. I will show you to your room and ask the servants to fill your bath. They will bring as much tea as you can drink! Now that you are here, my love, you shall not be denied a single thing. While you are resting, I shall tell Mr. Darcy what we have spoken about. He will help us to think of a plan.”
“Another plan.” Jane murmured, smiling a little.
They walked down the path which led through the herb garden into the still room. The icy spring mist had made the air outside still and without scent, so stepping inside was like entering a perfumery. Sprigs of dried lavender, thyme, rosemary and mint warred with trays of dried apples, peaches and plums. Jars of jam and pickles caught the light and coloured it red and green.
It was not a room that the ladies were supposed to spend much time in, but Elizabeth had loved it ever since she found it on one of her early explorations of Pemberley. It led through to the servants’ wing, and from there they could walk through to the main hall. As they walked through the rows of pickling shelves, Elizabeth told Jane about all of the other hidden treasures Pemberley had to offer.
“Lizzie?” Jane’s question was sudden, in a nervous, querulous tone: “Are you happy here? Withhim?”
Elizabeth could not help smiling. “We are more suited than I could have hoped for.”
Jane smiled back, then reached forward to squeeze her sister’s arm. That gesture was not enough; she wrapped her armsaround Lizzie’s back and kissed her cheek. “I am so happy to hear that, my love. One of my nightmares, at least, is untrue.”
Chapter 39
Caroline Bingley had been obsessed with Pemberley ever since her brother told her about his new friend at Cambridge. She did not need to see the estate to nurture her affection; her admiration was for it as a possession, not as a prospect. Pemberley was beautiful and had a great deal of history, but it might have been a windowless prison for all she cared. Caroline knew it as a profitable estate with a veritable army of servants to wait on its owners. Her dream, from the moment she learned of it, was to be Pemberley’s mistress.
The barrier to this obsession was, of course, Pemberley’s owner. Mr. Darcy was far less appealing than his home. Indeed, after he became a drunk, Caroline knew for a fact that he did notdeserveit.
It was not a new idea. Even before she knew of Darcy’s addiction, she had little love for the man. The respect that she gave him was due to his fortune, not to his character.
Caroline assumed that any man who sought out her brother’s company must be lacking in some way. Charles was weak-willed and tedious, and so must his friends be. It was a great surprise to Caroline that Mr. Darcy seemed both intelligent and discerning. Her initial prejudice thus disarmed, she proceeded to advance.
What a surprise, to be rejected!
Caroline was quite astounded. The snide asides of Louisa, by then safely and smugly married, did not help. It seemed that Mr. Darcy had a counter to every strategy she knew. Her governess had not prepared her for such lamentable common-sense. Caroline firmly believed that all men became mindless with adulation when a fetching woman took their arm. It wasexpected!How, then, did this man dare to confront her with something as boring aslogic?It was breathtakingly rude.
Darcy danced with Caroline, on occasion. He was obedient to the music, and his hand never lingered past the appropriate beat. If they were placed beside each other at dinner, he had the audacity to lookawayfrom her to speak to her brother!
Even when Bingley was absent, Darcy did not fall for any of her ploys. If she fluttered her eyelashes, he politely asked if she was suffering from styes. She could not elegantly swoon into his arms, for a doctor would be called at once. Even her seductive, husky voice was attributed to a sore throat. Darcy kindly suggested sending for a salt gargle.
Caroline realised that she was painting herself as either an invalid or a hypochondriac. Neither condition was particularly romantic.
Wondering if Darcy’s continuing disinterest was due to his belief in her apparent frailty, Caroline tried a new approach. She adopted a hale, strong persona that was almost mannish. Her fearless wit was unleashed, along with her enviable opinions and faultless, refined observations.
This did not work either!
How infuriating!
Caroline’s assault upon Mr. Darcy took up her every waking moment. She was certain that one day it would bear fruit, if only out of respect for her dogged persistence. As the years passed, he progressed from aloof indifference to grudging conversation, which Caroline celebrated as a sure sign of his inevitable proposal.
