Lost in Austen: Reborn

Chapter 11 - The Odious Mr. Collins

"Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves; vanity, to what we would have others think of us." - Jane Austen

The morning sun shone through the bedroom window, waking me up from my profound slumber. I rose from the bed planting my feet upon the floor. Jane was still sleeping. In fact, everyone in the house was still asleep. I had forgotten how much slower life was then compared to modern times. People could sleep in without being reprimanded. I changed my clothes and decided to take a short morning walk. It seemed like the perfect way to clear my head and to think about a certain someone.

I was one with nature. The sun warmed my back, and the wind blew my hair gently. "Eliza," an unfamiliar voice rang out behind me, "wait for me!"

I stopped walking and turned around with a look of confusion. A woman close to my age walked towards me. She seemed friendly enough, and as she walked closer to me, I was able to observe her. She was not pretty by any means. In fact, she was plain. Her brown hair was parted in the middle and coiled into an unimpressive bun at the back of her head. There was nothing noteworthy about her.

Charlotte Lucas.

"I have meant to come over!" She took me by the arm, "You are up early!"

"Yes," I took a tentative step forward, "Jane and I were at Netherfield."

"I heard," Charlotte asked, "what happened?"

"Nothing," I sighed, "that's fine for me. You have heard all the accounts of Mr. Darcy, I assume." Charlotte nodded that she had. I continued, "So, you can understand when I tell you I never expected anything, but, poor Jane. She deserves happiness."

"And," Charlotte smiled, "you do not?"

"Not with Mr. Darcy."

"Perhaps you should encourage him."

"Charlotte," I laughed, "Mr. Darcy wouldn't know encouragement if it hit him on the head!"

"I am sure you are underestimating him," said Charlotte. "He may surprise you."

"I do not wish to be surprised," I said with grumpiness, "least of all from him. He wouldn't know what to do."

"What do you mean?"

"On my last morning at Netherfield," I laughed, "he came into my bedroom. He wanted to talk."

Charlotte stopped in her tracks, and her eyes widened. She chuckled in disbelief, "What happened? What did he want to discuss?"

"I do not know." I cringed, "I turned him out of the room before he could finish."

"Why did you turn him away?"

"Charlotte, he walked into my room. What else was I supposed to do?"

"True," said Charlotte, "however, did you not care to know what he wanted to say?"

"I'm sure it was," I mimicked Darcy, "'Miss. Elizabeth, your carriage awaits. Begone woman of inferior birth!"

Charlotte and I said our farewells, and when I returned, I found Jane, Lydia, Kitty, and Mary hiding on the side of the house. They all peered around the wall as discreetly as they could manage. I walked behind them, "What are you all doing?" They all gasped and turned around to face me.

"You frightened me!" Kitty frowned.

"Whom are we hiding from?"

Jane pointed to a tall and heavyset man standing outside the front door. He bowed to no one in particular and remarked with a calculated air, "Mrs. Bennet, your beauty, after all these years, has remained untouched." He looked ridiculous standing there babbling to himself.