Page 42 of Cousin Conundrum

In the opposite of what Elizabeth hoped for her change in topic, Jane’s frown deepened. “It should be me with trod on toes. Once Mr. Bingley offers for one of the Archers, Mama will realize I am meant for Mr. Collins.”

Elizabeth twisted in the chair, pulling her braid free of Jane’s hands. “No. You will never be meant for him. Nor is Kitty. Not even Mary should be condemned to such a fate, though I daresay she’d welcome it. He is horrible, and from the little we know, I can only assume that living in proximity to his patroness would be equally so.” Especially if Mr. Darcy lied about not being engaged to Miss de Bourgh. The woman who married Mr. Collins would see Mr. Darcy quite frequently.

“But I am the eldest. I must secure Longbourn for—”

“No,” Elizabeth reiterated firmly. She spun back around, glowering at Jane in the mirror. “I will not hear it. If not Mr. Bingley, then someone else, but not Mr. Collins. If it comes to it, you must go visit the Gardiners in London. You will have far more opportunity to meet someone there.”

Without pointing out that she had already tried that once, Jane nodded, sighed yet again, and took back up Elizabeth’s half-unraveled braid. She saw to pinning Elizabeth’s hair, then went down to her meal.

By the time she joined Mr. Bennet, Jane, and Mary at the breakfast table, Elizabeth hadn’t thought of any means by which to cheer her sister. Jane toyed with her untouched food while Papa and Mary both read at the table. Elizabeth sat beside her older sister, determined to strike up a diverting conversation.

But about what?

She still wrestled with her thoughts when Mrs. Bennet entered.

“No reading at the table,” their mother greeted as she made her way to the sideboard.

With a huff, Mary closed her book. Mr. Bennet, as usual, ignored his wife.

Spearing several pieces of cold meat, Mrs. Bennet asked, “Where is Mr. Collins?”

“You are deprived of his excellent company by his early rising,” Mr. Bennet replied from behind his paper.

“Early rising?” Mrs. Bennet frowned at a basket of rolls. “Why would he be about so early in the day? Especially after last night’s assembly.”

“He has taken Miss Mabel walking.”

“Archers,” Mrs. Bennet hissed, rounding on them. She glared at the raised paper shielding Mr. Bennet, as if Mr. Collins’ choice of occupation were his doing. “Why have they come here to ruin our daughters’ chances?”

“I imagine to bolster their chances,” Mr. Bennet murmured.

“How can you sit there so sanguine, Mr. Bennet? Do you wish for an Archer to be mistress of this house?”

“My dear, I have never been sanguine a moment in my life. You see to that. And I daresay it matters not at all to me who is mistress here after my passing.”

Mrs. Bennet’s scowl deepened, but hurt shone in her eyes.

“Papa.” Elizabeth employed a tone of mild rebuke. “Mother will not know you jest.”

He dropped his paper far enough to peer over the top. “Do I?”

Elizabeth gave him a hard look. Sometimes, he tormented Mrs. Bennet too terribly.

Mrs. Bennet, plate full, took her place at the table. “Well, I daresay—”

Kitty and Lydia entered, both in yellow, a color Elizabeth realized was meant to mimic Miss Archer’s gown of the evening before. Her sisters’ gowns were, however, too dull to produce the same effect, instead appearing worn. At least Lydia had complementary bows. Kitty wore a scrounged looking collection of purple and burgundy ribbons.

“Kitty,” Mrs. Bennet snapped. “Go pick different ribbons. Mr. Collins cannot return to you looking so atrocious.”

“I do not have others.” Kitty plunked down at the table without going to the sideboard. “Lydia took all the good ones.”

“Then you must purchase new. Off to Meryton with you the moment you have eaten, and take the back way so you do not run across Mr. Collins and Miss Mabel.”

“Yes, Mama.” A smug look flashed across Kitty’s face as she dropped her gaze.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, her suspicions regarding Kitty’s behavior reemerging from the churn of worry for Jane and thoughts of Mr. Darcy’s kiss. It seemed impossible that, between them, Kitty and Lydia had no ribbons that would match Kitty’s gown better than that hodgepodge of purples and purply reds.

No, her sister wanted to go to Meryton. Moreover, she did not want to be seen as wanting to go. She’d quite handily manipulated their mother.