Page 1 of Elizabeth Bennet Says Yes to Mr. Darcy

Chapter 1

Elizabeth

I read Jane's letter three times before admitting the words wouldn't change no matter how hard I willed them to.

The first reading left me incredulous. The second, furious. By the third, I felt only a cold, methodical fear—one that seemed to take stock of every piece of furniture at Longbourn, every dress my sisters owned, every small expense we had always taken for granted.

My dearest Lizzy,

Papa has finally explained why he has been receiving letters these past weeks that he locks away in his study. Years ago, he stood guarantor for a sum borrowed by an old friend. This man died insolvent, and his creditor is now demanding five thousand pounds. Papa cannot sell Longbourn, as you know, and would have to pledge a large portion of his income for many years to come. He assures us we shall want for nothing. I fear, however, that he is minimizing the situation to spare us.

Mama does not know the whole truth. She knows only that we must reduce our expenses. Please, do not be too alarmed, and say nothing to Charlotte until Papa decides to make the matter public himself.

Jane had added several lines to assure me that everyone was well, that Lydia still laughed, that Kitty had received a new ribbon, that Mary had undertaken to read a treatise on domestic economy. Her care in describing a normality already cracked squeezed my heart more tightly than the darkest complaint could have.

I folded the letter, then opened it again.

Five thousand pounds.

My mother's entire dowry. Two and a half years of Longbourn's income, assuming no one ate, dressed, or paid the servants during that time. A debt that could transform my father's improvidence into lasting catastrophe.

From the window of the small room the Collinses had assigned me, the gardens of Hunsford appeared offensively serene. The April sun lit the trimmed boxwoods, the daffodils, and the gate where Mr. Collins waited each morning to watch his patroness's carriage pass. Nothing in this landscape suggested that a few days' journey away, my family risked losing the fragile comfort it had always taken for granted.

I thought of my mother, whose lamentations could exasperate me but whose fears had never been entirely imaginary. She had known since her marriage that Longbourn would one day pass to Mr. Collins. She knew that five daughters without sufficient fortune would depend on their marriages or their parents' generosity. My father had answered this threat with irony, as if mocking a danger could make it less real.

I thought of Jane.

Had Mr. Bingley married her, she could have helped the others without ever making them feel it. The thought immediately filled me with shame. Jane was not a financial solution. She was my sister, wounded by a man who had let her believe he loved her before vanishing to London.

Footsteps in the corridor made me slip the letter into my pocket.

Charlotte entered without knocking, wearing that attentive expression that told me she had already noticed my prolonged absence.

“Lizzy, is everything all right?” she asked.

“Perfectly.”

She closed the door behind her.

“Your definition of perfection seems stricter than mine.”

I tried to smile.

“A letter from Longbourn. Nothing that should disturb Mr. Collins's luncheon.”

“He would be honored to sympathize, provided Lady Catherine had first shown him the proper way to do so.”

I let out a short laugh. Charlotte came closer and placed her hand on my forearm.

“Is it serious?”

I wanted to tell her. She was my friend, despite the choice that had led her to this parsonage and despite everything I still did not understand about her marriage. But Jane had asked for my silence, and my father's troubles were not mine to share.

“My father has some money troubles,” I replied. “He thinks he can resolve them.”

Charlotte asked nothing more. Her gaze only softened.

“Then come walk with me after luncheon. You bear bad news better when you can scatter it behind you on a path.”