Rose and Lavender Water 07

Rose and Lavender Water

Part the Seventh

Bella did not wish to go to Aunt Phillips’ card party.  She had told no one, not even Mary, of her midnight rendezvous with Darcy, or of his distress to learn of her relations.  She had not even imparted to her dearest sister that he had left Netherfield and would not be in attendance that night.

Mary was laying out their garments for the evening, all solemnity at the thought of partnering with Mr. Collins at cards.  Bella wished she would smile.  This was not how Mary should behave in regards to a suitor.

“I shall wear the white muslin,” Mary decided, “with the pink sash.  I shall look well in it.  You shall wear this white muslin with the larger flower design and the green sash.  We shall look quite the pair.”

Bella was looking out the window and did not even turn to see what Mary had laid out.

“Do you not think that should be fine?” Mary asked, worry lacing her voice.

Bella took a deep breath and turned.  “You wish to wear the pink sash?” she checked, “with your fair complexion?”

“Do you not think?” Mary looked back at the dresses.

“No,” Bella told her, standing from the window and shutting the drapes just in case one of the Lucas boys decided to leave them an apple while they were changing.  “Pink does indeed look well on you.”

“You look just as lovely in pink.”

“But green looks well with my eyes,” Bella reminded her sister, coming up to the bed and picking up the skirt of the white muslin with the green sash.  “You are quite correct.”

“You do not think Jane or Lizzy will wear white, do you?” Mary asked in worry.

“Do you want me to go check?” Bella asked solicitously.

“Oh, will you?” Mary asked, light shining out of her sky blue eyes.

“Of course,” Bella promised.  They were dressed in their chemises and Bella picked up a large pink shawl and put it over her shoulders before exiting the room.  She slipped down the hall to Jane and Elizabeth’s room and knocked on the door.

“Come in!” Elizabeth called and Bella entered.

“Greetings,” Bella offered as she came in.  It seemed Jane was wearing a pink muslin with a v-neck, as she often did, and Elizabeth was wearing a courser fabric in dark blue.  “Mary wanted me to check that neither of you were wearing white muslin.”

Elizabeth looked at her crossly.  “I never favor white muslin,” she reminded Bella.

“You do not,” Bella agreed, “but Jane sometimes wears white.”

“No, not tonight,” Jane told her kindly.  “Tonight I’m wearing pink, as you can see.”

“Yes,” Bella agreed.  “Thank you.”

Before she could leave, Elizabeth asked nastily, “Shall you take up all of Mr. Darcy’s time again tonight?  We finally have two eligible bachelors in Hertfordshire and both you and Jane have claimed them.”

Bella tried not to be annoyed.  “It was not my intention to be grasping,” Bella apologized.  She left the room before Elizabeth could respond.

When she was out in the hall, she heard humming and, when she turned the corner, she accidentally ran into Mr. Collins.  “Oh dear!” she sighed as his eyes widened.  “I do apologize, sir.”

“Cousin Isabella!  You are undressed!”

Bella pulled the pink shawl a little closer.  “Mary wanted me to check what Jane and Lizzy were wearing tonight,” she tried to explain.  “She so wants to look her best.” 

Mr. Collins nodded, looking clearly embarrassed.  He had averted his eyes away from her.

She curtseyed to him.  “I will tell her you are in the drawing room.”

“Thank you, Cousin Isabella,” he said, walking around her.  “That is exactly where I shall go.”

She rushed back into her room and shut the door behind her.

Mary looked up at her from where she was regarding herself in the looking glass.  “Goodness, Bells!  You look like you have seen a ghost.”

“I have seen Mr. Collins,” Bella explained.

The color drained out of Mary’s face.

Bella rushed up to her and took her hands after quickly discarding the pink shawl.  “He was all politeness and propriety,” she assured her sister.  “But we shall not speak of it.  Jane is wearing a pink muslin and Lizzy a dark blue dress.”

“Ah,” Mary decided on, glancing at herself in the mirror and fixing her hair distractedly.  “Let me fix your hair.  It is coming undone.”

“Is it?” Bella asked, turning to the looking glass.  It was done perfectly in a knot at the base of her skull.  There was nothing to fix.  Still, she obligingly sat in the chair in front of the vanity and allowed Mary to fuss over her and place a green ribbon in her hair.

Not ten minutes later, the sisters were dressed in their matching dresses, Bella surrendering the large pink shawl to Mary and finding a blue shawl for herself, and they went down to the drawing room where, indeed, Mr. Collins was waiting.

Papa, of course, did not come, but now there were six of them in the carriage.  Mr. Collins, seeing the problem, obligingly sat with the driver, and Elizabeth insisted on sitting on one side with Jane, having the extra room.

“Well, dears,” Mama said as they rode into Meryton by the light of the moon.  “Mary, you shall partner with Mr. Collins.”

“Yes,” Mary agreed, “it is all arranged.”  There was no spark to her eyes as she said this.

“Jane, I am certain Bingley will do you the honors.  Isabella, Darcy is always so attentive, he will certainly partner with you.”  Bella did not correct her.  “Be sure to speak to Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, dears.—Lizzy.”  She paused.  “We must do better.  You are not getting any younger.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

“There are certainly many officers in the neighborhood,” Bella told her mother carefully.  “We have made many of their acquaintance in the last week.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth agreed, grasping on that.  “Mr. Denny, Mr. Wickham—”

Bella did not recognize the second name.

“Well, a redcoat is certainly dashing,” Mama decidedly agreed, “but be certain he has an independent income before you form an attachment.”  She looked at Elizabeth firmly.  “Mind my words.”

Elizabeth nodded.  Mary shifted uncomfortably.

Bella knew Elizabeth was not taking the words to heart.  She never did.

When they arrived at Aunt Phillips’, the Bingleys were there and there was no Darcy.  Bingley immediately secured Jane’s company and Louisa Hurst took Bella’s arm and led her to a table where Mary and Mr. Collins were making up a set.

“This is your cousin then?” Louisa asked.

“Indeed, Madam,” Mr. Collins answered, bowing to her.  “I have the living at Hunsford under the patronage of the noble Lady Catherine De Bourg!”  He said this rather enthusiastically and Bella shared a look with Mary.  They were trying to quell his rather more passionate outbursts.

“I have heard of Lady Catherine,” Louisa shared as she shuffled the cards for a game of hearts.  “She is Mr. Darcy’s aunt,” she told Bella, leaning toward her as if to tell a secret.

Louisa, then, thought that Darcy’s preference for Bella still existed then.  Curious.

“Is she indeed?” Bella asked as the cards were distributed.  “She must be Lady Anne’s sister, then?”

“Indeed,” Louisa agreed with a smile.  “The late Lady Anne Darcy,” she informed Mary and Mr. Collins.  “She is now with the angels.”  She finished distributing the cards. 

“Mr. Darcy visits Kent every Easter with his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Mr. Collins told the table.  Mary’s sky blue eyes lit up with interest.  “I have not met either gentleman myself as my appointment is recent, but I understand it is an annual visit.”

Bella shared a look with Mary. 

The bidding began.  Diamonds were trump.

It was after the third game broke up and Louisa and Bella were getting coffee that Elizabeth approached them and introduced them to a Lieutenant Wickham.  Mary and Mr. Collins were speaking by the window and Bella noted with great satisfaction that they seemed to be in an intimate conversation.

“I grew up at Pemberley,” Wickham told the assembled women.  “I understand that you know Darcy, Miss Isabella.”

Bella was surprised to be singled out.  “We all know Mr. Darcy,” she responded.  “He is a guest of Mrs. Hurst’s brother at Netherfield Park.”

Wickham nodded to her politely.  However, he turned his eyes again to Bella.  “Old Mr. Darcy was my godfather.”

Odd, Bella thought.  What was odder still was that Wickham resembled Darcy closely.  They were both tall with dark curls and verdant eyes.  However, where Darcy was handsome with a full face, Wickham was only nearly handsome, with a much thinner face and more defined cheekbones that made him look almost dishonest.

Elizabeth was watching Bella closely.

Bella showed no surprise on her face.  All she said was: “Indeed?”

“Oh, yes,” Wickham agreed.  “I am surprised he did not mention me.  We grew up together.”

“Whyever should he have mentioned you?” Bella asked him.  She turned to Louisa.  “You are much better acquainted with Mr. Darcy, Louisa. He is a close friend of your brother’s.  Has he ever mentioned Lieutenant Wickham?”

Wickham’s eyes had not left Bella.  Neither had Elizabeth’s.  Only Bella was politely looking at Louisa Hurst.

“I am afraid he has not,” Louisa answered, nodding at Bella. 

“We went to Cambridge together,” Wickham continued.

“Did you?” Bella asked him dismissively. 

“Yes.  We were roommates, in fact.”

Bella had had enough of the conversation.  Elizabeth was still regarding her closely with a light in her eyes.  She had clearly already spoken to Wickham at length and it seemed to have an accusation against Darcy or some false intimacy he wished to impose on Bella, especially as Darcy was not there to defend himself.

“Are you ready to continue, Louisa?” Bella inquired.  “I believe I see Jane and Mr. Bingley are ready to start a table.”

Louisa turned and looked behind her.  “Indeed, they are.  Come.”  She set down her half empty coffee dish.  “Good day, Mr. Wickham.  Miss Eliza.”

Bella curtseyed to them and turned to leave, but Elizabeth reached out and caught her arm.  “Bella!” she seethed.

“What, Lizzy?” she asked.  “I am going to play cards.  We are at a card party.”

“Why can you not be polite?”

Louisa leaned in.  “It is you, Miss Eliza, who is causing the scene.”

Elizabeth looked stricken and immediately released Bella’s arm. 

Louisa, looking satisfied, took Bella’s arm and led her toward the table where Jane had just sat down.  “What are we playing?” she asked brightly.  “We were playing Hearts before, but I believe I should like a new game.”

Elizabeth was fuming on the way home in the carriage.  “Why could you not stop and listen to Mr. Wickham?” she demanded of Bella in front of both their sisters and Mama.  “He had pertinent information about Mr. Darcy.”

“What pertinent information?” Bella demanded.  “Mr. Wickham is a stranger to us while Mr. Darcy is a friend to our family.”

“Indeed,” Mama agreed.  “Where was he?  Did he send any message, Bella?”

It was Jane, however, who answered.  “He has gone on a brief visit to Hampshire to see a friend from Harrow.  Both he, and the friend, return next week to Netherfield Park.”

“A friend?  Is this friend single?” Mama asked excitedly, looking between Jane and Elizabeth.

Elizabeth sighed, crossed her arms, and looked out the window.

Jane, however, did not know.  Bella was not entirely certain either, though she said nothing.

When they returned home, Mary said protracted goodnights to Mr. Collins on the stairs, so much so that all the other sisters went to bed.  This left Elizabeth with the perfect opportunity to find Bella alone.

Bella had just checked the sill to see if the Lucas boys had left an apple, although they had been at Aunt Phillips’ card party (Joshua Lucas had been sullen that he was unable to partner with her, though it seemed his mother had spoken to him as he had given Bella a wide birth), when Elizabeth entered the room and closed the door behind her.

“Wickham is Old Mr. Darcy’s godson.”

“As he said,” Bella agreed with a sigh, taking the green ribbon out of her hair.

“Old Mr. Darcy left him the living of Kympton in his will.  Mr. Wickham was meant to go into the church.”

“Mary would like him then,” Bella decided dismissively as she took down her hair and began to brush it out.  It fell out well past her shoulders and shone darkly in the candlelight.  She remembered Darcy touching her hair that night at Netherfield Park, but Elizabeth interrupted her thoughts.

“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth spat, “refused him the living outright and now Mr. Wickham is practically destitute and was barely able to purchase his commission.”

Bella paused and set down her brush.  Meeting Elizabeth’s sky blue eyes in the glass, she ground out, “I do not believe you.”

“Mr. Wickham—”

“—is making baseless accusations.”  Bella stood from the chair and turned around.  “I know you dislike Mr. Darcy because he would not dance with you, but maligning his character on the word of a stranger is beneath you.”

“Do not defend him!  You are blinded by his ten thousand pounds a year!”

Bella was startled.  “I do not care that he has ten thousand a year!”

“Of course you care,” Elizabeth seethed.  “It is the only reason why you entertain his attentions.  His arrogance alone would make any sensible woman reject him outright.”

“Get out!” Bella demanded, pointing at the door.  “Get out immediately, Elizabeth Bennet!”

“I am ashamed to call you my sister!” Elizabeth continued.

“You are no sister of mine!” Bella shouted back.

At that moment, the door flung open and Mary appeared.  “What is going on here?  We can hear you all the way down the hall!”

“Lizzy was maligning Mr. Darcy’s character on the unfounded word of an officer who claims to know him.”

Mary looked at Elizabeth reproachfully.  “Lizzy.  How could you?”

“How could you?” Elizabeth demanded back.  “You are just as bad as Bella.  The only reason you are entertaining Mr. Collins is because he is to inherit!”  With that, she wrenched open the door and stormed down the corridor, practically running over Mr. Collins and Mama, who had come out of her bedchamber to see what the commotion was about.

“Lizzy?” she asked, bewildered.

Mary had flung herself onto the bed and was now crying.

“Isabella?” Mama asked, coming out in her shawl and curl papers.  “What is all the fuss about?”

Mr. Collins was looking about in bewilderment.

Bella was just glad to still be dressed although her hair was falling down around her shoulders.  “Lizzy was maligning Mr. Darcy’s character.  She is jealous that Mary and I have suitors—and she does not.”  She folded her hands in front of her and took a deep breath.  “I should go see to Mary.  She is upset at Lizzy’s false words.”

“That girl!” Mama said in exasperation.  “Mr. Collins, I apologize for my second eldest.  She has always had an unstable temperament, not at all like sweet Mary or dependable Isabella.  I will set the house to rights.”  (Mr. Collins bowed to her and went down the hall to his room and entered it.). “Isabella,” Mama said, “see to Mary.  I will take care of Elizabeth.”

Bella nodded and followed Mary back into the room, closing the door behind her.

Mary was sitting up on the bed, staring at the closed window.  “Mr. Darcy was not there.”  She turned to Bella, tears streaked down her face.  “You seemed not to be surprised.”

Bella sighed and sat down on the bed.  “Let me help you take down your hair.”

“No, Bells,” Mary demanded.  “What have you not told me?”

“Darcy—Darcy.”  She sighed and looked away into nothing.  “Darcy had Louisa and Caroline ask about our connections.”

Mary gasped.  “Did he object?  They are fine enough for Meryton.”

“They are not fine enough for him.  His mother was the Lady Anne Darcy.”

Mary reached out and grasped her hand.

“I saw him that night when I stayed over.  He—he loves me, but he said he needed to think.  He was gone the next morning.  Then, that day in Meryton when we saw Mr. Bingley, he told me that Darcy had gone to Hampshire to see his friend Benedict Bridgerton and he is bringing him back to Netherfield Park.”  She looked over into her sister’s blue eyes.  “Mr. Bingley is throwing a ball in Mr. Bridgerton’s honor.”

“Why would he go see a friend?” Mary asked.

“To seek his counsel perhaps?  Mr. Bridgerton is the younger brother of a Viscount.”

Mary bit her lip.  “Oh Lord.”  She thought.  “Is he bringing him back to meet you?”

“It is the only explanation I can think of.”

The sisters fell into silence. 

Mary then stood and went to the vanity.  Bella followed her and began to take down her hair.  After several moments, Mary spoke.  “We shall have to show you off to your best advantage.”

“We need to warn him about Wickham.”

“Who?” Mary asked, turning and looking up at Bella.

“The officer who is claiming that he is Old Mr. Darcy’s godson.”

Mary stood and presented her back to Bella who began to unbutton it. 

“He claims that Old Mr. Darcy left him a living, as a clergyman, and Mr. Darcy refused him the living outright.”

Mary looked over her shoulder.  “Ridiculous!”

“Exactly,” Bella agreed as she presented her back.

Mary was silent for a moment.  “He looks the exact copy of Mr. Darcy,” she revealed hesitantly.  “The exact copy of the officer in the rain, though it is not he.  The officer I met—he, well,” she blushed.  “He was of higher rank and his face was fuller like Mr. Darcy’s.  However, the resemblance of the three men is striking.”

Bella paused before she stepped out of her dress.  “I did notice the resemblance between Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy.  You had noted that Mr. Darcy and the officer in the rain also resembled each other.  A cousin perhaps?  Should we ask Mr. Darcy?”

“Mr. Darcy has no brothers.  There are no relations.  The officer—”  She paused, considering.  “He said he would call on me, but he never came back.  He would not have cared enough about me to tell a cousin about me.  No, leave it be.”  She stepped out of her own dress, careful of the pink ribbon.  “I have made my bed.  I am to be Mistress of Longbourn one day.  That must be enough for me.”

Bella looked over at her, heartbroken.  She hated seeing Mary like this.  Reaching out for her sister, she hugged her close.  “I wish you could have had happiness.”

“I had it for a half hour,” Mary replied.  “The memory will have to be enough.”

The sisters changed out of their dresses and placed them back in the closet before putting on their nightshifts and climbing into bed.  Tired from the fighting and the crying, Mary blew out the candle, and the sisters fell into sleep.

It was not the last they heard from Mr. Wickham.

He and a small group of officers came to visit Longbourn several days later and Bella was much aggrieved to see him.  She wanted to deny him entrance, but she could not do it due to the rules of polite society.

She noticed that he and Elizabeth took their tea and withdrew to a corner, whispering to each other.

She did not like it.

It was about this time when the Lucases came to call (without Joshua).

Mary and Mr. Collins were sitting on a settee with each other, Mary working on a sampler of a Bible verse, Mr. Collins admiring her embroidery.

Elizabeth and Charlotte were speaking, although Jane had gone out to the garden and was pruning her roses.

Henry came over and sat down next to Bella.  “Is it much certain?” he asked.

She looked at him questioningly.

“Is Mr. Collins going to propose marriage to Mary?”  They looked over at the couple.

Bella returned to the cushion she herself had been embroidering for the past several weeks.  “You know it would be indelicate for me to comment.”

“What other design did he have in coming here though?” Henry asked, a suppressed anger in his voice.  “I know it was not love of family.  Neither he nor his father has ever visited before.”

Bella carefully made another stitch.  “You know that Mr. Collins is to inherit Longbourn.”

“He is making recompense then,” Henry sighed, still clearly angry.  “He decided to choose one of your father’s daughters to marry so that the Bennet family could stay in the house once he inherits.”

Bella did not dispute his reasoning.  It was the truth after all.

“I am one and twenty.”

Bella looked up questioningly at the non sequitur.

He looked over at her.  “I am old enough to marry.”

“What are your prospects?” Bella asked him.  “We know William has the shop in Town.  Will you start your own business?  Will you inherit Lucas Lodge?  No one knows.”

“My father has not told me,” he admitted carefully.  “I always assumed I would go and help William with the business.  I—I know it is not the life Mary is used to.”

“No,” Bella agreed, looking him dead in the eye.  “It is not.”

Henry looked back over at Mary and Mr. Collins.  “You think I have no chance, then.”

Bella considered carefully.  She knew where her sister’s preferences lay.  Mary had resigned herself to marrying Mr. Collins and becoming a cleric’s wife.  She wanted to retire in her later years to Longbourn and be the first lady in the neighborhood.  Bella did not begrudge her this.  How could she?

She tilted her head, indicating her answer.

Henry bowed his head.  “You can tell Miss Mary she need not expect any more apples at her windowsill.”

“If you think that is best,” Bella agreed, not looking up.  “I do not suppose you can dissuade Joshua.”  She had not given up hope of Darcy.  He was, after all, returning to Netherfield Park.  He had not abandoned her completely.  He had confessed that he loved her, though not in so many words.  Surely love was everything.

“My brother is full young,” Henry agreed, “and we all know of your attachment to Mr. Darcy.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Joshua thinks he is in love with you.”

“He is sixteen,” Bella argued.

“You were never in love at sixteen?” Henry asked.

“Were you?” she asked with a laugh.  Mary had fallen in love when they were fifteen, albeit with an officer on horseback.  But that was another time entirely.  They had grown up now.

“I have always loved Mary,” Henry Lucas confessed.

Bella looked at him in astonishment.  “I never knew.”

“No,” he agreed.  “I never told anyone.  She was but thirteen years old.”

“Yes,” Bella murmured.  “She was, I suppose.  We were playing together as children at that age.”

“That did not mean I did not love her.” 

They both turned their eyes back toward Mary and Mr. Collins.

“Do you think he will be good to her?”

“I know he will be,” Bella told him outright.  “He is so attentive now.  I can tell he is sincere.”  She paused.  “You can be assured he is a good man.”

“Good,” Henry said, as if to himself.  “Good.”

That night, Bella sat at the window and looked out.  “Henry Lucas will not bring you apples anymore.  He is assured that you will be the new Mrs. Collins soon enough.”

“You did not tell him thus,” Mary said from her place in bed where she was reading Fordyce’s sermons.

“I did not need to confirm his suspicions,” Bella told her.  “He has eyes and he can see.”

“I suppose it is apparent,” Mary agreed.  Her honey blonde hair fell in waves over her shoulders, the exact same shade as Jane and Elizabeth’s hair.  She looked over at Bella.  “Do you think he will ask me before the Netherfield Ball?”

“We do not know when that should be.”

“No,” Mary agreed.  “Do you think he will ask me within the next week then?”

“I do not see why not.  If an invitation does not come and disrupt his plans.”

Mary looked over at her questioningly.

Bella turned in the window and planted her feet on the floor.  “If an invitation comes,” she guessed, “he might change his plans and decide to propose at the ball.  It would be a grand occasion and certainly romantic.”

“I am not certain Mr. Collins is romantic,” Mary murmured.

“No?” Bella asked.  “Perhaps, perhaps not.—If an invitation does not come, then surely he will propose by Sunday.”  It was now Tuesday.  “There would be no reason to wait.”

Mary marked her place and put her sermons to the side.  “I hope you are right.  I do not like waiting.”

“But you are the soul of patience!”

“Not when it comes to waiting for a marriage proposal,” Mary confessed.  “He has already been here for a week and a half!  Surely that is enough time for him to assess my suitability to become his wife, especially as we are living under the same roof!”

Bella could not help but smile at Mary’s seriousness.  “If you say so.”

She came over to the bed and slipped under the covers.  Turning to her sister, she noted the turn of Mary’s face, so exact to her own, only lighter in features.

“I do not believe we shall have a double wedding.”

“No,” Mary agreed sadly.  “I shall be Mrs. Collins before you become Mrs. Darcy unless circumstances change before then.”

“We shall have to pray harder,” Bella determined.

“I have already been praying for you to become Mrs. Darcy for weeks, Bells,” Mary confessed.  “Surely God has heard my prayers.”  With that, she leaned forward and kissed Bella’s forehead before she leaned over and blew out the candle.  Bella, startled, remained seated in bed before she, too, lay down and prayed to God that Darcy would come back to her.