Page 8 of Leave Her Wild
She had been so embarrassed and angry, she had refused to speak again throughout the rest of the set. The memory of his hateful actions still brought tears to her eyes. “Now, the man has proposed to Jane. What might he do to my sweet-natured sister?”
Elizabeth had no time to wipe her tears away before Mary tapped on the door and entered. “I was worried regarding your quick exit,” her sister admitted. “You have several days to move your belongings. Do you worry regarding the speed of Jane’s agreement to marry? I admit I do not wish Jane to suffer in order to save me.”
“None of us would, except, perhaps, Mama, though even she would not wish Jane to be miserable.”
“Then what made you so upset when you learned of Jane’s betrothal? Mary pressed.
Elizabeth sighed heavily, knowing denial would not do for Mary. “I took Mr. Darcy’s acquaintance during that one short season I had when I was fifteen. Remember? Grandmother Gardiner wished me to know something of society,” Elizabeth explained.
“And?” Mary encouraged.
“And I danced with Mr. Darcy. My first and only dance at a ball. Our hostess insisted we dance, but he lodged his contempt by not speaking to me except one time and that was to indicate my conversation bordered on the inane. No one asked me to dance after that. Though I do not think the gentleman purposely told others to avoid me, his actions spoke loudly enough for all to hear. Now, he has asked our sweet and kind Jane to be hisbride, and I cannot but question why. He could have his choice of brides—those richer, perhaps even prettier, and, definitely, with better connections. I fear our dear Jane is being misled.”
“Although he has said nothing of his opinion, I do not believe our father is best pleased with this sudden development. Did you also speak to him of your qualms?” Mary questioned.
“I did not,” Elizabeth assured. “I could not. It was my shame to shoulder. How could I share it with anyone if not for this turn of events? The only exchange Papa and I had was our concern for how speedy this engagement has come about.”
“Could Jane be infatuated with the gentleman? Has he more to offer than a sizable income?”
Elizabeth paused to recall how she had briefly thought herself the most fortunate of females, for Mr. Darcy possessed a masculine appeal, but such did not disguise his extreme arrogance. “The man is handsome indeed, or, I should say, he was pleasing on the eye when we met more than a handful of years prior. For all I know, he has turned to drink or other vices.”
Though Elizabeth made the comment to protect her own pride, innately she knew the man was not prone to being a drunkard nor a gambler nor a womanizer. He obviously held himself to standards she could not meet. The fault rested upon her head, not his, and such was the reason the incident had not known a “death” in her memories.
“I imagine Mama has already planned who all she might tell, even though father has forbidden her from spreading the news.”
“All she must do is tell Aunt Phillips,” Elizabeth observed.
Mary shrugged her response. “Permit me to assist you with your things. It would displease me to have told our mother a lie.”
Elizabeth embraced her sister. “Say a prayer this evening that Mr. Darcy has matured.”
“I am confident he has,” Mary responded dutifully. “Jane is not so gullible as to agree to marry a man who displeased her.”
Even though Elizabeth essentially believed, as did Mary, in Jane’s sensibilities, later, when Elizabeth returned below, Mrs. Bennet’s continued exclamations regarding how Jane had saved them all, had brought on another round of the dismals, as far as Elizabeth was concerned. She lashed out at her mother, “I pray,” she had said with more harshness than she intended, “you do not mean to make our Jane ‘the golden calf’ to save our family!”
“Assuredly not!” Mary was quick to say.
“No sacrifice,” the mother said dutifully, but she immediately returned to her raptures. “Your father was smart to economize and provide Jane a Season. With her beauty and kind nature, I knew she would not disappoint.”
“Unlike I did,” Elizabeth retorted, though she knew her mother had not meant to be sour-natured. It was not appropriate to think of her mother conniving in that manner. “Perhaps the money used on me should have been used on Lydia instead. She proved herself better at finding a husband at fifteen than I did.”
“I never said any such thing!” Mrs. Bennet insisted. “My mother always favored you, for you greatly resembled her in likeness and temperament. Moreover, she always thought you girls should marry early. My mother pressed both me and your Aunt Phillips to marry young. As to my advice to Lydia . . .”
“I apologize, Mama,” Elizabeth was quick to say. “It is not your fault that none of us recognized Mr. Wickham’s true nature. I assuredly did not. I am simply worried for Jane’s future. I understand the Gardiners admire Jane’s betrothed, but I cannot help but to worry: I do not want Jane to sacrifice her happiness to save mine.”
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Kitty dashed into the house. “There is a crested carriage making its way along the paddock,” she called as she turned towards the sitting room. “Sit up, Mama! Mary! Elizabeth! Papa! Jane’s betrothed has come to Longbourn!”
“Are you assured?” Elizabeth asked as she rushed about the room to gather balls of ribbons, while Mrs. Bennet dumped newspapers and knitting in a large chest.
“I saw the coach from the walled garden,” Kitty admitted.
“You were sitting on the wall again!” Mrs. Bennet accused. “What if you fell and . . .”
Elizabeth cut off her mother’s reprimand. “Not now, Mama. Everyone, please claim a seat. Mary, be reading. Mama, needlework. I will fetch Papa.”
Elizabeth scampered away to be brought up short by her father’s appearance in the hall. “I will greet our visitor, Elizabeth. Ring for tea and refreshments and then join us.”
