Deeply wrong.
Mr. Bennet noticed her hesitation. “Now, Elizabeth.”
The authority in his voice left no room for argument. Her eyes widened.
Then, as though forcing himself to soften it, he added, “Truly, you do not wish for your face to be swollen for your wedding day.”
Elizabeth swallowed.
Slowly, she turned and began climbing the stairs.
She could feel his gaze on her back the entire way.
When she reached the small landing around the corner, when she knew she could no longer be seen from below, she paused. Then, very deliberately, she marched in place a few times, allowing her shoes to sound upon the boards as though she were still ascending.
Her heart was pounding. Something about her father’s reaction had felt… wrong. She waited until she heard the firm click of the study door closing. Then she turned quietly, descended the stairs once more, and slipped into the small water closet beside the study.
The wall there was thin.
Elizabeth pressed her ear against it, scarcely daring to breathe.
Inside the study, Mary’s voice rose at once. “Papa, I cannot remain silent when—”
“I am not interested,” Mr. Bennet interrupted sharply, “in sermons about fire and brimstone.”
Mary fell quiet.
“I have heard quite enough this morning about heresy and damnation to last me the remainder of the year,” he continued. “What I am interested in is your behavior.”
“My behavior?”
“Yes. Your behavior. You struck your sister.”
Mary’s voice stiffened. “I acted in righteous correction.”
“You acted,” Mr. Bennet said coldly, “with violence in my house.”
There was a pause. Then he added, more quietly, “That was not acceptable.”
Mary seemed to draw breath to defend herself again.
“But,” Mr. Bennet continued, “in one particular point, I find that I agree with you.”
Elizabeth’s heart lurched.
There was a long silence in the study.
“At last,” Mary said reverently. “I prayed you would understand.”
“You misunderstand me already,” Mr. Bennet replied flatly. “My objection has nothing whatever to do with religion.”
“Then… why?” Mary asked, her voice sounding as startled as Elizabeth felt.
“That does not concern you.”
“But Papa—”
“All I require,” Mr. Bennet said firmly, “is your assistance.”
