Page 39 of Beyond First Impressions
Across from her, Charlotte spoke with Mrs. Bennet, her tone steady, her manner composed. Elizabeth listened and remained. But somewhere beneath the calm surface of her thoughts, something new had taken root. It could not be called hope, not yet, but the possibility of it.
The departure of the Lucases brought with it a noticeable calm.
For a short while, the drawing room retained the warmth of their presence—the faint echo of conversation, the lingering arrangement of chairs drawn closer together than usual—but as the door closed behind them and their carriage rolled away, the house seemed to settle once more into its familiar rhythm.
Elizabeth remained where she was, her hands resting lightly in her lap, her attention turned inward though she gave no outward sign of it.
Mrs. Bennet resumed her seat with a small sigh of satisfaction. “Well,” she said, adjusting her shawl, “that was very agreeable indeed. Lady Lucas is quite convinced of it now.”
Elizabeth did not ask of what, precisely, Lady Lucas was convinced. She suspected she knew.
Jane stood near the hearth, one hand resting upon the back of a chair. There was a stillness in her that Elizabeth recognized—composure scrupulously maintained, though not without effort. Her sister was battling great emotion.
Mr. Collins, who had remained behind, cleared his throat. “My dear Mrs. Bennet,” he began, drawing himself up slightly, “I must take this opportunity to express my satisfaction at the most promising developments of the previous evening.”
Mrs. Bennet turned toward him at once. “Yes, yes—most promising indeed.”
“It is not often,” Mr. Collins continued, “that such a favorable impression is formed with such immediacy. Mr. Bingley is a gentleman of considerable fortune, and his evident regard for Mrs. Collins cannot but be considered a most fortunate circumstance.”
She directed her gaze away, without turning her head.
Jane did not move.
“Such a marriage,” Mr. Collins went on, “would be of great advantage to the family. While young Thomas is, of course, secure in his inheritance, an alliance of this nature would serve to strengthen your position in the community and ease certain financial considerations.”
Mrs. Bennet nodded eagerly. “Yes—yes, precisely so.”
Elizabeth felt the faintest tightening in her chest. She did not dispute the logic. Indeed, she could not.
Mr. Collins’s management of the estate had already brought about changes that were difficult to deny. The accounts were in better order. The land was more fully tended. There was a steadiness to Longbourn now that had not always been present. Still, the upkeep of six women was expensive. Elizabeth was aware of it.
Aware, too, that she preferred Mr. Collins’s way of managing the estate to her father’s. The thought came unbidden, and with it, a mild sense of guilt. Her father had been kind. Witty. Indulgent. But he had not been attentive.
She pressed her fingers lightly together, dismissing the comparison as best she could.
Jane’s voice broke the silence. “I have only just met Mr. Bingley,” she said. Her tone was calm, but there was something beneath it—something firmer than Elizabeth had expected. “I cannot imagine that it is proper to form such conclusions so quickly.”
Mr. Collins inclined his head. “My dear Mrs. Collins, I do not suggest that any immediate understanding be assumed. Only that the circumstances are…encouraging.”
Jane turned toward him then. “I would not wish to make a fool of myself,” she said, her voice steady, “by appearing eager to secure the attentions of a gentleman I scarcely know.”
Mrs. Bennet opened her mouth, but Jane continued before she could speak.
“I am surprised,” she added, her gaze resting briefly on Mr. Collins, “that you should wish to see me so readily removed from this household.”
The words were spoken without sharpness and accusation. But they landed all the same.
Elizabeth felt the shift at once.
Jane’s cheeks had flushed—just slightly, but enough to be seen. She stood very straight, her composure intact, though no longer entirely effortless.
Mr. Collins blinked. “My dear Mrs. Collins,” he said, clearly taken aback, “I assure you, that was not my intention—”
Jane inclined her head. “I beg your pardon,” she said, though there was no apology in her tone. “I must see to Thomas.” She turned and left the room. The door closed behind her with restrained finality.
There was a moment of stillness. Mr. Collins remained where he stood, his expression one of genuine bewilderment.
Elizabeth did not speak. She watched him—attentively, thoughtfully—and saw no sign that he understood what had passed.
