The Beginning of Hope

Part 18

Elizabeth had thought she might be able to use the relocation to the Trenholme dining hall to escape Mr Collins' clutches, but the man hovered about her like a shadow and she could not evade him no matter which way she turned. In the end, she wound up seated between him and her father and was grateful at least for some relief. Papa would offer her sensible conversation and amusement, if she must also endure Mr Collins' inane observations.

"Ah, Lizzy," Mr Bennet said, when everyone was seated and enjoying their first course. "It seems like quite a long time since we have been afforded an opportunity to talk!"

His gaze was fixed on his plate, but Elizabeth could not help but wonder if there was some criticism in this random observation.

"Longbourn is busy with its new addition, I suppose," she remarked, glancing over one shoulder to reassure herself that Mr Collins was otherwise engaged and would not overhear himself being discussed. He had secured Charlotte to sit on his other side, which circumstance was an irritation to Elizabeth, who would much prefer to have her friend to herself. To her great surprise, Charlotte did not seem to mind the arrangement and was chattering away quite happily to Mr Collins and even, to Elizabeth's surprise, laughing at his feeble jokes. Charlotte is a much better actress than I! she thought, rolling her eyes and attending to her meal.

"You are well, though?"

Mr Bennet's voice had grown grave and Elizabeth glanced up at him, surprised to see the care with which he looked at her. Had her father been worried about her? She did not think she had been acting so very out of character of late. She rather prided herself on her ability to keep her secret and to persuade her family that nothing at all was amiss with the arrival of Mr Darcy. They had not known of her previous connection to him, for she had striven never to mention it. As time passed, it became easier to leave it unspoken, and to explain now would be to do more damage. If her father had noticed some change in her, perhaps she was not as skilled at deception as she thought.

"Jane looks happy, does she not, Papa?" Elizabeth smiled, eager to distract her father out of his concern for one daughter by mentioning the future happiness of another.

Mr Bennet harrumphed and made a great show of slicing his meat into tiny squares.

"Come, Papa, even you must admit it is good to see her looking so well and happy."

"It is," Mr Bennet allowed, taking a very long time to chew and swallow the tiniest amount of food. "And I dare say Mr Bingley is a good sort of fellow."

"You were singing his praises only a week or two past!" Elizabeth reminded him, with a grin. "Do not tell me he has done anything in the intervening time to change your opinion of him?"

"No," Mr Bennet admitted. "Only...I suppose Jane must marry him?"

"He has not asked her yet!" Elizabeth watched the care with which Mr Bingley was perpetually turned towards Jane, the way he hung off every word she said, the smile that was never far from his lips, and her voice grew wistful. "But I suppose he shall before very much longer." Drawing in a breath, she was determined to be cheerful. "And we shall rejoice at it. She deserves to be happy and to marry well. What more could we ask for than this?"

Mr Bennet muttered something that Elizabeth could not hear and, fearing he was straying once more towards melancholy, she swept her gaze along the table for some alternative point of conversation.

"Mary, too, has never looked prettier."

Mr Bennet glared down the table in a manner that could only be described as vicious and lay down his fork so that he could better address his daughter.

"Mary is too young to be thought of as pretty."

"Mary is only a few years younger than me, and if Lydia and Kitty clamour for compliments then Mary is certainly deserving of them too."

Mr Bennet sighed, reaching up a hand to massage away the deep frown that carved lines into his forehead, whispering something so quietly that, had Elizabeth not had her head tilted quite close to his at the moment he spoke, she would surely have missed it.

"Am I to be forced to part with all of my daughters in the space of a few months?"

Feeling a wave of sympathy wash over her, Elizabeth set down her fork and laid her hand over his, squeezing it gently in a gesture of encouragement.

"Do not fear, Father," she said, praying he did not notice the wistful note in her voice. She kept her eyes on his face, wondering if he had always looked quite as old as he did at that moment. "I do not think you are likely to lose all your daughters to matrimony."

Mr Bennet let out a snort of laughter, but placed his other hand over hers, warmly.

"I trust you are not resigning yourself to a life of spinsterhood, my dear Lizzy. I do not see that future for you."

"Then you are the only one of us who does not," she retorted, with a self-deprecating shrug. "I am hardly as pretty as Jane, Papa, nor as agreeable as Mary. No, leave me to my walking and my books and I shall be quite content!"

She strove to inject such warmth into her voice that she almost succeeded in persuading herself that this was true. Mr Bennet, however, was not so easily convinced. He regarded his daughter with unflinching clarity, and Lizzy squirmed.

"I do not think Providence has such a future in mind for you, Lizzy. And she tends to have her way, whatever we may wish to say about it!"