Page 24

"I shall always be your cousin," she told Kitty, who was still wiping her cheeks. "Even if we must write letters across oceans or over the very high hedges of Meryton."

"Across oceans?" Lydia asked, horrified. "Do not tell me you mean to go abroad."

"Only if the ocean is willing to permit my passage," Elizabeth answered. "I have heard that it can be most disagreeable about such things."

Kitty smiled faintly. Jane looked at Elizabeth with gratitude. They had not found a remedy for their troubles; for one morning, however, they had remembered how to comfort one another.

Mrs. Bennet declared herself ill. For the greater part of the afternoon she remained on the sofa, complaining of her nerves whenever Elizabeth entered the room and becoming remarkably cheerful when a neighbour called to ask after the family.

Charlotte Lucas visited the next day. Elizabeth met her in the garden, relieved to escape the house for an hour. The October leaves lay thick along the path, and a cold wind carried the scent of damp earth.

"Jane tells me you have refused Mr. Collins," Charlotte observed when they were beyond hearing of the windows.

"I have. Twice, if one counts the second refusal as an independent event."

"And your aunt is displeased."

"A most delicate expression for the matter. If anger could be converted into coal, we should have enough to warm Longbourn for a century."

Charlotte did not immediately smile. "I know you dislike him, Lizzy. Still, his position is respectable, and you have little fortune of your own."

"Would you have accepted him?"

Charlotte considered the question. "Perhaps. I am four-and-twenty, and I cannot afford to expect a romantic attachment. A comfortable home and an honourable husband would be sufficient for me."

"But I am sixteen," Elizabeth answered. "I have hardly begun to discover what I might become. And I do not believe Mr. Collins understands me, or wishes to."

"Then you must hold to your decision," Charlotte replied. "I only caution you that your aunt's concerns are not imaginary."

"I know they are not. That is what makes the matter so unhappy."

They walked together until the light began to fail. Charlotte did not attempt to persuade Elizabeth again. Instead, she spoke of ordinary things and promised that Lucas Lodge would always welcome her.

Three days later, at Matlock House in London, the Earl received Jane's letter among a stack of correspondence. He read it once, then a second time more slowly. When he finished, he put it down and rang for his wife.

Lady Matlock entered expecting a question about dinner or some estate business. One look at her husband's expression told her otherwise.

"What has happened?" she asked.

"Thomas Bennet is dead."

She sat at once. "Poor Elizabeth. She was so devoted to him."

"That is not the worst of it." The Earl handed her the letter. He waited while she read, watching distress give way to anger.

"A proposal from Collins?" she exclaimed. "At sixteen, when she has scarcely buried her uncle?"

"One that she has refused repeatedly. Her aunt now speaks as though eight years of shelter have been provided on credit."

Lady Matlock folded the letter with deliberate care. "What do you intend to do?"

"Bring her here."

"Good."

The Earl looked at his wife with affection. "I had thought I might be required to persuade you."

"You have known me for more than twenty years and still possess such absurd notions?" She rose and began pacing. "The girl may have no fortune, but she has an education and excellent character. We can offer her a home and such guidance as she may need. I should have suggested it years ago had I believed her circumstances unhappy."