Page 20 of Fortuitous Encounters

Elizabeth's head spun.

“All that explains Mr Darcy’s involvement," Mrs Herbert said, "but we would have sheltered you regardless, young lady. What your family is attempting is vile—absolutely vile. We married for love, and so should you, my dear.”

With that, the tears started to fall, and Mrs Herbert shooed the men out. Mr Fletcher had to report the success of his mission to his master (and likely best friend’s wife) before they fretted themselves into a state.

He knew what was coming. Mr Bennet no doubt considered himself a grown man and master of his domain.

Fletcher suspected the patriarch’s education was about to commence in earnest.

The Lending Library

The morning sun woke Elizabeth from a troubled sleep, but at least her pillowcase had dried by then.

Mrs Herbert bustled into the room carrying a tea tray. “Nothing like a new day, my girl. I hope you slept well.”

“Better than expected,” Elizabeth replied softly. “It all seems almost unreal—like a bad dream.”

“Yes, it is a bad business, but your Mr Darcy seems a good man and he will look after you.”

Twelve hours earlier, Elizabeth would have snorted derisively at such a statement, but instead she softly replied, “He is not my Mr Darcy, but he is a great friend of my sister’s Mr Bingley. Last night forced me to reevaluate him, and I thought a great deal.”

“Have you come to any conclusion?”

“I have,” Elizabeth said with a slight smile as Mrs Herbert poured the tea.

“May I share it?”

Elizabeth smirked, showing her impertinence might be wounded but was not dead yet. “I do not know him at all.”

“If you know that, you are well on your way. Once you understand you know less than nothing, you are ready to learn.”

“That sounds like sage advice.”

“It is from my own mother, and when I was a little slip of a thing, I may have heard it from my grandmother as well.”

“Well, should I ever marry, my children will receive the same wisdom.”

“Oh, you will marry… of that I am certain.”

Elizabeth was sceptical but did not want to belabour the point. Most of the Bennet sisters were practically unmarriageable, at least within their own class, long before the ball, and the evening’s to-do would not improve that. Even had she a decorous mother and lacked the two least sensible sisters in the county, appearing at a ball with a profusely bleeding clergyman would not go unnoticed. She suspected most of the story was already circulating—if not among the gentry, for certain among the servants and townspeople. It was inevitable.

She finally sighed. “I appreciate your optimism and will try to emulate it.”

“That’s the spirit. You have had a bad fall. You need not recover in one day.”

Elizabeth was not entirely certain her mind could accommodate sensible advice, but she was willing to make the attempt.

Their tea finished, Mrs Herbert was all business.

“Let us get you up and about. There is nothing like activity to chase away the blue devils. You should fit my daughter’s dresses, and since most people never see what is right in front of their faces, I daresay you could run the front counter and nobody would notice. We won’t push our luck, but we have books to stock and the like.”

Elizabeth shyly asked, “What of chores around the house? My mother likes to pretend we are above such things, but what she wanted me to learn as a child and what I actually did may not be in accordance.”

Mrs Herbert laughed. “We have a cook and maid-of-all-work, but I doubt either would be offended by a bit of help. Just stay out of the main shop and you will be as safe as you would be in London.”

Mrs Herbert took the concept that idle hands were the devil’s workshop to heart, so she kept Elizabeth too busy to brood for the next three days. Mr Fletcher came by the shop to report on the goings-on about town every day, but nobody wanted to call very much attention to the library, just in case Mr Bennet’s abrupt transformation included an unexpected bout of either industry or observation.

As expected, the appearance of a broken-nosed clergyman coupled with the distinct lack of one daughter set the cat among the pigeons, and stories spread through the town like wildfire. Mr Bennet and Mr Collins had cloistered themselves in his library for several hours the next day, but otherwise they seemed to be taking the path of least resistance toward a forced marriage scenario.