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I could not leave the room, but I made my answer heard. That was more than I managed with Wickham.
Mama's theatrical hysteria: ongoing, but manageable.
Mary called him an idiot who misquotes scripture, then remained beside me in the garden until it was too dark to read. I do not think she is aware. I was very glad she stayed.
Question: How many rainstorms has the narrative forced you into this week? I'm keeping a running count of "convenient weather events" and I'm up to nine since my awakening.
- E.B.
His response arrived two days later:
Miss Elizabeth,
Congratulations on the shortened proposal scene. I attempted to end a conversation with Caroline Bingley and reached the door before she introduced her next objection. You're advancing faster than I am. I suspect it's because you're the protagonist.
Rainstorm count: twelve. Four of them while I was attempting to leave Netherfield. The narrative really wants me to stay put. I've started rating them for dramatic effect. Today's was a solid 7/10: thunder, lightning, tree branch falling near the door. Very theatrical.
Bingley goes to town with his sisters tomorrow. I depart for Kent next week. Lady Catherine has summoned me. Whether you will be drawn there also, I cannot tell. My borrowed outline contains Kent, but offers no reliable appointment. I suspect we're in for another Major Plot Point.
Bring an umbrella. I can offer no sound evidence that it will be allowed to open, but it seems neglectful not to try.
- F.D.
P.S. Nearly a dozen refusals. I hope you were given tea afterward. I cannot decide whether to admire your persistence or wonder at his hearing.
Elizabeth grinned and tucked the letter away. The narrative was pushing them toward Kent.
But at least she'd face it with an ally who understood. An ally who counted rainstorms and rated them for dramatic effect. An ally who made being fictional almost bearable.
Almost.
CHAPTER 10
Two days after the refusal, Jane appeared in the doorway. "Lizzy, Charlotte is here to see you."
Elizabeth put a finger in her book. Its heroine had spent three chapters being rewarded for patience. Elizabeth was beginning to suspect the author had never been obliged to listen to Mr. Collins.
"Did Mama send her to convince me to reconsider Collins?"
"I... don't think so? She asked for you specifically."
Elizabeth left the heroine to her rewards and went downstairs.
Charlotte waited in the drawing room, looking remarkably composed.
"Charlotte. Have you come to lecture me on practical marriages?"
"Not exactly." Charlotte's smile was enigmatic. "I've come to tell you that Mr. Collins has proposed to me. And I have accepted."
Elizabeth felt her jaw drop. Actually drop. Not a scripted response, genuine surprise.
"Charlotte. You cannot be serious."
"I am entirely serious. He proposed this morning. I accepted this afternoon. We shall be married within the month."
Elizabeth sat down heavily. "But... Charlotte, he's ridiculous. He quotes scripture incorrectly. He has the personality of lukewarm punch."
"He does," Charlotte agreed placidly. "But he also has a comfortable home and a steady income. I shall learn which rooms he uses least."
