Page 55

15 December 1811

My dear Eliza,

I have news which I think will surprise you. After you departed for London, Mr. Collins made me an offer of marriage.

I have accepted him.

This will likely distress you, Eliza, but I am pleased with the match. I am twenty-seven with no fortune and little beauty. Mr. Collins is respectable and has a good living in Kent, one that may be improved upon should his wife assist him. He is not a clever man, but I have never required cleverness in a husband. I require a home of my own and as much peace in it as I can contrive.

I know you will think I ought to have told you I was considering such a thing, but I wished first to be certain that I was not profiting by the disappointment of any of your sisters.

Jane, I knew, would never consider him. Kitty required only one question before declaring that she would rather remain at Longbourn for ever. Lydia laughed for so long that I was obliged to wait before asking whether that was intended as an answer. Even Mary, though she respects Mr. Collins’s profession and approves many of his opinions, confessed that she would not choose him for a husband. I therefore permitted myself to act.

I suspected that your refusal would not end his determination to marry while he was in Hertfordshire, and I had no wish for you to remain at Longbourn while he selected another bride and your mother made the whole business a misery for you.

So I spoke to Lydia.

Before you become angry with her, you should know that I asked only whether she could think of any reason why you and Jane might go to London. She proved much more capable than I expected, and I believe she discerned what I was about. Her assistance, of course, was not disinterested. I promised her she could select one of my bonnets for her own before I remove to Kent.

I hope you will forgive my scheme. It was meant to make things easier for you, and as Lydia informs me that Mr. Bingley is calling on Jane, I cannot help but think it has all turned out for the best.

There is little other news from Meryton, except that Miss King has recently inherited ten thousand pounds and is now being courted by Mr. Wickham.

Dear friend, do not be upset with me. I hope you will visit me in the spring.

Your affectionate friend,

Charlotte

Elizabeth sat back.

Charlotte had interfered in her circumstances. There was no denying it. She had questioned Elizabeth’s sisters, arranged an invitation to Mr. Collins, recruited Lydia, and helped send Elizabeth to London without telling her why. She had done this for her own benefit, and as a result, hopefully in the distant future, she would move into Longbourn as its next mistress.

That was uncomfortably similar to what Mr. Darcy had done in managing Mr. Bingley.

But there was a difference.

Elizabeth had already refused Mr. Collins. Charlotte had not decided whom Elizabeth should or should not marry, nor had she attempted to reverse that decision.

When Lydia suggested London, Elizabeth had been free to refuse.

Mr. Darcy had gone further. He had decided that Mr. Bingley ought to give up Jane, then had kept Jane’s presence in London a secret. Mr. Bingley could not act upon incomplete information.

Elizabeth read the letter again.

Even that distinction was not entirely comfortable. Charlotte had concealed her purpose. Lydia had certainly manipulated Mamma. There had been management in the whole affair, however amusing the bonnet made it seem.

She recalled Lydia’s hands tying an imaginary ribbon. The girl had been thinking about the bonnet she was to have.

At least Lydia never changed.

Perhaps the question was not whether one ever interfered in the affairs of people one loved. Families advised one another constantly. Friends warned, encouraged, questioned and, apparently, occasionally conspired.

Aunt Gardiner had advised Elizabeth to sleep upon her anger and then left her to decide what she thought. Uncle Gardiner would warn Papa about Wickham but leave Papa to determine what should be done. Charlotte had pushed Elizabeth towards London, but she had not chosen what Elizabeth would do once the opportunity was before her.

Mr. Darcy had crossed that line. But to his credit, he had admitted it and done what he could to make amends.

Elizabeth folded Charlotte’s letter and placed it beside her on the table. Nearby lay her neglected copy of The Lady of the Lake. She had not made much headway, but she touched the cover and thought of Mr. Darcy laughing when she admitted she had read the same page three times.