Mr. Darcy Broke My Heart (5 page)

Still, the time came when the inevitable could no longer be delayed
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“We must remove from Longbourn, Mama,” said Elizabeth after breakfast one day as she studied the contents of Mr. Collins’ latest missive. She was alone with her mother in the morning room. “Our cousin is eager to take his place in our local society, and we have imposed on his forbearance long enough.”

Mrs. Bennet sniffed, rose from her chair at the little desk, and frowned at her second eldest daughter
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“Forbearance? He is a clergyman. Certainly the practice requires no effort on his part, for he must be accustomed to it.” She pushed aside the household account book Elizabeth had pressed upon her. “Why Mr. Collins insists on having Longbourn when he enjoys a perfectly adequate parsonage at Huntsford, I am sure I do not know. A manor requires such upkeep, and it is all quite worrying. Surely he wishes to be spared the turmoil that caused your father’s untimely…untimely….” She could not continue, but instead sank onto the settee and covered her face with her handkerchief as she began to weep once more
.

Elizabeth sighed and pulled the account book toward her. She had long given up any private embarrassment at her mother’s behavior. Public humiliation, however, was not so easily avoided. She opened the book and eyed the most recent column of figures. If only she could magically transpose the numbers there into an order that would relieve her mind rather than trouble it. Such conjuring was beyond her powers, however, and wishful thinking would not change their situation. The Bennet family sank further into debt each day
.

“We might remove to the seaside,” Elizabeth said to her mother, though the woman’s face was still obscured by her handkerchief
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At the mention of the seaside, her sobs quieted a little
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“You have always wished for some sea bathing to calm your nerves.” Elizabeth was on intimate terms with her mother’s nerves. Like her father before her, she had heard them mentioned with consideration for many years. The reminder of Mr. Bennet, and the rent his demise had left in the family fabric, caused a lump to rise in Elizabeth’s throat. After half a year she expected to feel his loss less keenly, yet it was not so. She grieved his death as much
now as the day he’d been laid to rest in the churchyard at Meryton
.

“The seaside?” Mrs. Bennet echoed, lowering the handkerchief. “A little cottage might do, I suppose. Ten rooms, I should think.”

Elizabeth sighed and closed the account book. Her mother might as well wish for a hundred rooms as ten
.

“We must entertain more modest expectations, Mama. If we are frugal, we may manage three or four.”

Elizabeth knew what must happen once her mother and sisters were settled in their new home. To secure her future, a gentlewoman must either marry or seek employment
.

Jane, her elder sister, could reasonably be expected to procure a husband through the twin inducements of her beauty and pleasant nature. Indeed, Elizabeth had already arranged with her aunt and uncle Gardiner, who resided in London, for Jane to travel to town once the rest of the family had found a situation. If Jane could but make herself known in a wider society, a proposal must soon follow
.

Elizabeth’s own chances of entertaining an offer of marriage were much less encouraging. She had neither Jane’s beauty nor goodness, and she was far too likely to say what she thought. Her frankness had sent potential suitors scurrying on more than one occasion. Combined with her lack of dowry—well, Elizabeth had no faith in fairy stories. Her future must be the work of her own hands
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“I still do not comprehend how we may be thrown into the street, merely because of an entail.”

Mrs. Bennet’s oft-used lament strained the last of Elizabeth’s patience. She had tried in vain, as had her father before her, to explain the terms on which her father had come by Longbourn. Since the manor was entailed, only the nearest male relative could inherit the property. Despite many lengthy explanations, however, her mother refused to acknowledge Mr. Collins’ legal right to avail himself of the roof and walls, much less the very furnishings and plate, that she had enjoyed throughout her married life
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“We are not to be thrown into the street, Mama,” Elizabeth said as kindly as she could. “Mr. Collins is a gentleman, not a bill collector.”

A soft rap on the door relieved Elizabeth of the endless duty of placating her mother
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“Yes?”

Hill, the housekeeper, opened the door and peered around it. “The ladies have a visitor,” she said
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Elizabeth clutched the account book tightly. She had hoped to avoid tradesmen appearing at the house demanding payment, but even the kindest merchants in Meryton had
begun to inquire as to when the Misses Bennet might cross their palms with a bit of silver
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To her shock, however, the door opened fully to reveal their cousin, Mr. Collins himself, standing on the threshold
.

“Mr. Collins! You are come,” Elizabeth blurted out
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The Rev. Mr. Collins failed to register the dismay in her tone. He smiled, sketched a bow, and entered the room. “Miss Elizabeth. Mrs. Bennet. You are in good health, I trust?” He did not pause for an answer but continued, “I bring you the compliments of my most esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who urged me to delay my return to Longbourn no longer.”

Having spent several days in her cousin’s tedious company, Elizabeth could well imagine that the gentleman’s patroness had been glad to encourage him on his way
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“We are delighted to see you, Mr. Collins. I trust you are in good health as well.” Elizabeth rose and made her curtsy since her mother showed no signs of greeting the new master of Longbourn in a proper manner
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“Mr. Collins,” her mother said from where she reclined on the settee. “How good of you to come to minister to us in our grief.”

The gentleman’s brow creased for a moment at this manner of address, for he had expected to find Mrs. Bennet quite recovered from her husband’s death. Instead, she showed no more sign of relinquishing her hold upon the
house than she had six months before, greeting him as a visitor rather than the master. Elizabeth stifled a sigh. Six years, much less six months, would not be sufficient to persuade her mother that Longbourn was no longer theirs
.

“I am at your service, madam,” Mr. Collins said with yet another bow. His manners were all civility, yet he could not help but cast an assessing eye over the room. “Your sisters are also well, I trust?” he asked Elizabeth when she seated herself again in her chair and motioned for him to occupy the one opposite
.

“Yes, thank you. Jane prepares to travel to London to stay with my aunt and uncle Gardiner.”

His face sagged in disappointment, which only confirmed to Elizabeth the necessity of her decision. She had not misread Mr. Collins’ pointed attentions to Jane at their father’s funeral. “And your other sisters? Where shall they be sent?”

Mr. Collins’ easy assumption that the family would be so quickly dissolved irritated Elizabeth, but she kept her tone civil. “My other sisters shall accompany Mama once a proper situation has been procured.”

“And yourself?”

“My plans are uncertain as yet.”

“Indeed.” He inclined his head and eyed her with speculation. Elizabeth looked away
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“Uncertain?” Mrs. Bennet interrupted. “Why should your plans be uncertain, Lizzie? I’m sure you have spoken of nothing but the seaside since breakfast.”

Elizabeth had meant to broach the subject of her own future with her mother once Mrs. Bennet had grasped the contents of the household account book and therefore the gravity of their situation, but she could delay the truth no longer
.

“I mean to seek employment, Mama.”

Jane and Elizabeth slipped unnoticed into the garden, and beyond it to the little wood where they so often withdrew for sisterly consolation
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“What shall I do without you, Jane?” Elizabeth asked as they strolled along the path, arm in arm. “You are the only thing that prevents me from becoming the veriest harpy.”

“I should not go,” Jane said, her lips drawn and her voice sober. “’Tis not fair to leave you to manage so much. I am the eldest.”

“And the most likely to make a brilliant match and save us all from poverty,” Elizabeth said with a teasing smile
.

Jane sighed. “I would not wager my pin money upon it. I daresay London gentlemen will find me a country drab.”

Elizabeth stopped in the middle of the path and pulled her sister around to face her. “Any London gentleman, even one of the meanest understanding, could not fail to appreciate you, Jane. And if one fails to do so—”

“What? What shall you do?” Jane teased. “Call him out? Challenge him to a duel? What a scandal that would be.”

Both sisters grew quiet for a moment. The carefree days of the past were buried as surely as Mr. Bennet was interred in the churchyard at Meryton
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Jane took her sister’s hands. “I should be the one to go with Mama. You should go to London, Elizabeth, for you would not be afraid to enter into society.”

“I should offend that very society within a se’ennight and be sent packing,” Elizabeth replied with a laugh
.

Jane could not deny the truth of that statement and so only smiled. Elizabeth turned back the way they had come, leading Jane along behind her
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“No, Jane, you must go to London and make a brilliant match. Then, when your wealthy husband buys you a town house in Mayfair, we shall all come to live with you, which will force your generous husband to flee to the country, leaving us all a happy family party once more.”

Jane chuckled as Elizabeth had intended. “Lizzie, once Mama is settled with our sisters, you must come to London for a visit as well, even if it is a short one.” Elizabeth made a noise as if to protest, but Jane would not allow it. “No, Lizzie. I won’t stand for argument on that score.” Her eyes grew misty. “You have been the very mortar that has held Longbourn in one piece since Papa’s death. You deserve your share of amusement more than any of us.”

“Then I shall brook no less than a formal presentation at court,” Elizabeth teased, but despite the lightness she forced into her tone, she was far from sanguine
.

Jane put an arm around her shoulders. “If I could, I would buy your presentation clothes myself.”

If only one of them had been born a son. If only her father had implemented a plan of economy twenty years before and put aside something for his wife and children. But with each expectation of a happy event, economy had been delayed in the certainty that this child, at last, would be the longed-for heir. And so instead of living out their days at Longbourn, Mrs. Bennet and her three youngest daughters would be forced to reside in some narrow dockside set of rooms. Jane would be dependent upon the goodwill of her mother’s relations and the vagaries of the London marriage mart. And Elizabeth, with few worldly possessions beyond her own pride, would make her living by bowing and scraping before people who were her equals in birth and breeding
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“We shall come about,” Elizabeth said to Jane as they entered the house. “Certainly, we shall.”

But both sisters felt the emptiness of the words. With heavy hearts, they went to dress for dinner, for surely, now that Mr. Collins had come, this would be among their last meals at Longbourn
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