Without Reserve

203 Pages·2016·2.22 MB·English

by  Reynolds Abigail

Without Reserve
Abigail Reynolds
IntertIdal Press
Without ReseRve
Copyright © 2004, 2007 by Abigail Reynolds
ISBN-13: 978-1-4022-1469-1
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any format whatsoever.
For information, address intertidal Press, 700 Rayovac Dr., suite 220, Madison, Wi 53711.
Many of the characters and occasional lines in this book were the creation of Jane Austen.
isBN: 978-0-6151-4823-6
Book and cover design by ellen Pickels
www.abigail-reynolds.com
To
the readers at
Austen Interlude
and
Hyacinth Gardens
Without your encouragement,
this would never have been written.

Chapter 1
B
y the time the ladies of the Bennet family reached the Assembly
Rooms in Meryton, Elizabeth was already beginning to regret her
decision to attend that evening. Her interest had been slender to be-
gin with; she had no desire to be in the company of the officers, particularly
Mr. Wickham, and she was not yet recovered from the emotional blows
she had received during her recent visit to Kent. Between the persistent
complaints of her younger sisters regarding the unfairness of their father’s
decision not to remove the family to Brighton and her mother’s unending
reminiscences of the Assembly where Jane had met Mr. Bingley, she was
quite ready to be left to her own company. Only the sight of Jane’s pallor
as Mrs. Bennet continued to hold forth on her loss of Mr. Bingley gave her
any sense of purpose. She squeezed her sister’s hand reassuringly.
When they entered the Assembly, several of their friends came up to greet
them and to welcome Jane and Elizabeth back to Hertfordshire. Elizabeth
was sorry to see that Mr. Wickham was indeed among the crowd; she had
seen him twice already since her return. In addition to her other grievances,
she had a fresh source of displeasure, for he had made clear his inclination
toward renewing those attentions which had marked the early part of their
acquaintance. This could only serve to provoke her, and she lost all con-
cern for him in finding herself thus selected as the object of such idle and
frivolous gallantry. While she steadily repressed it, she could not but feel
the reproof contained in his believing that however long and for whatever
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Abigail Reynolds
cause his attentions had been withdrawn, her vanity would be gratified and
her preference secured at any time by their renewal.
As she saw Mr. Wickham approaching her with a charming smile, no
doubt planning to ask her for the honour of the first two dances, Elizabeth
turned a brilliant smile on the gentleman to her right, an acquaintance of
many years’ standing by the name of Mr. Covington, who was in posses-
sion of a small estate some ten miles from Meryton. She did not know him
particularly well, but his native good humour and enjoyment of company
rendered him welcome wherever he went, and Elizabeth was not displeased
to have his company as an alternative to Mr. Wickham’s.
“Mr. Covington,” she exclaimed. “It has been quite some time since I
have seen you—I dare say it was before Christmas at least.”
“You would be quite right, Miss Bennet,” he replied. “Owing to my
mother’s recent illness, I did not have an opportunity to attend events such
as these this winter, and by the time I returned, you were off on your trav-
els and very much missed.”
“I am sure,” said Elizabeth with an arch look. “With the introduction of
all the officers, ladies are now always scarce, so I would imagine that the
absence of any lady would be noted.”
“The others may speak for themselves, Miss Bennet,” he said with an ap-
preciative smile, “but for myself you were missed only for the lack of the
pleasure of your company. To make up for my loss, would you do me the
honour of dancing the first two dances?”
Elizabeth accepted with a smile; after the stressful nature of her recent
interactions with Mr. Darcy and then the discomfort of Mr. Wickham’s
company, it was pleasant to spend a few minutes in the company of an
agreeable and undemanding young man like Mr. Covington. The reas-
surance that she was still sought out as a partner by men other than the
officers did not go amiss either.
She talked happily with him through the first set and afterwards joined
him for some refreshments, hearing all the news of his mother’s illness and
recovery, the effects of the winter on Ashworth House and his tenants; and
telling him amusing stories of her journey to Kent and London. She left
him without particular regret when one of the officers asked her to dance.
It would have been difficult not to enjoy herself, given the plethora of
available partners, and she was successful for the most part at avoiding Mr.
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Without ReseRve
Wickham; the one time he managed to catch her and request her hand for
a set of dances, she could fortunately plead that she had already promised
the dances to another gentleman. Reflecting on the native injustice of the
fact that a lady could not refuse to dance with one gentleman without
refusing all other partners as well, she made a point of avoiding him after
the set of dances was over. Fortunately, Mr. Covington again materialized
by her side, offering her refreshments and a hope she would join him for
another dance, to which Elizabeth was happy to give a positive response, as
it meant one more set where she could evade Wickham.
She was pleasantly exhausted by the end of the evening, and was able to
ignore her mother’s constant revisiting of the event on the way home and
recitals of every officer with whom Lydia had danced.
The first week of their return was soon gone. The second began. It was
the last of the regiment’s stay in Meryton, and all the young ladies in the
neighbourhood were drooping apace. The dejection was almost universal.
The elder Miss Bennets alone were still able to eat, drink, and sleep, and
pursue the usual course of their employments. Very frequently were they
reproached for this insensibility by Kitty and Lydia, whose own misery was
extreme, and who could not comprehend such hard-heartedness in any of
the family.
“Good Heaven! What is to become of us! What are we to do!” would
they often exclaim in the bitterness of woe. “How can you be smiling so,
Lizzy?”
Their affectionate mother shared all their grief; she remembered what she
had herself endured on a similar occasion, five and twenty years ago.
“I am sure,” said she, “I cried for two days together when Colonel Millar’s
regiment went away. I thought I should have broke my heart.”
“I am sure I shall break mine,” said Lydia.
“If one could but go to Brighton!” observed Mrs. Bennet.
“Oh, yes!—if one could but go to Brighton! But papa is so disagreeable.”
“A little sea-bathing would set me up for ever.”
“And my aunt Philips is sure it would do me a great deal of good,” added
Kitty.
Such were the kind of lamentations resounding perpetually through
Longbourn-house. Elizabeth tried to be diverted by them; but all sense
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Abigail Reynolds
of pleasure was lost in shame. She felt anew the justice of Mr. Darcy’s
objections; and never had she before been so much disposed to pardon his
interference in the views of his friend.
But the gloom of Lydia’s prospect was shortly cleared away; for she re-
ceived an invitation from Mrs. Forster, the wife of the Colonel of the regi-
ment, to accompany her to Brighton. This invaluable friend was a very
young woman, and very lately married. A resemblance in good humour
and good spirits had recommended her and Lydia to each other, and out of
their three months’ acquaintance they had been intimate two.
The rapture of Lydia on this occasion, her adoration of Mrs. Forster, the
delight of Mrs. Bennet, and the mortification of Kitty, are scarcely to be
described. Wholly inattentive to her sister’s feelings, Lydia flew about the
house in restless ecstasy, calling for everyone’s congratulations, and laugh-
ing and talking with more violence than ever; whilst the luckless Kitty
continued in the parlour repining at her fate in terms as unreasonable as
her accent was peevish.
“I cannot see why Mrs. Forster should not ask me as well as Lydia,” said
she, “though I am not her particular friend. I have just as much right to be
asked as she has, and more too, for I am two years older.”
In vain did Elizabeth attempt to reasonable, and Jane to make her re-
signed. As for Elizabeth herself, this invitation was so far from exciting
in her the same feelings as in her mother and Lydia, that she considered
it as the death-warrant of all possibility of common sense for the latter;
and detestable as such a step must make her were it known, she could not
help secretly advising her father not to let her go. She represented to him
all the improprieties of Lydia’s general behaviour, the little advantage she
could derive from the friendship of such a woman as Mrs. Forster, and the
probability of her being yet more imprudent with such a companion at
Brighton, where the temptations must be greater than at home.
Although he heard her attentively, her father, concerned more with his
own domestic peace, was not disposed to agree with her reasoning, nor
with her concern for the very great disadvantage to them all arising from
the public notice of Lydia’s imprudent manner. Elizabeth was forced to
be content with his answer, but her own opinion remained the same, and
she left him disappointed and sorry. It was not in her nature, however, to
increase her vexations by dwelling on them. She was confident of having
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Without ReseRve
performed her duty, and to fret over unavoidable evils, or augment them by
anxiety, was no part of her disposition.
She was happy to be distracted from both Kitty’s lamentations and
Lydia’s raptures when Mr. Covington and his mother came to call. Mrs.
Covington was a contemporary of Mrs. Bennet’s, but her nature was quite
different, being both eminently practical and tactful; a combination which
had served her well during her years of managing the Ashworth estate by
herself following her husband’s untimely death and before the majority
of her son. Elizabeth was not surprised to find that, after greeting Mrs.
Bennet cordially, Mrs. Covington chose to locate herself between the two
eldest Miss Bennets; she had always had a suspicion that Mrs. Covington
found Mrs. Bennet’s company to be rather trying, though her manners
would never have indicated as much.
Elizabeth expressed her pleasure at Mrs. Covington’s return to health.
On this subject Mrs. Bennet waxed lyrical, including referring to every ill-
ness she herself had ever suffered as well as those of most of the neighbours.
Elizabeth and Jane were finally able to interrupt this flow with a discussion
of their recent visit to Town. Mrs. Bennet, with little to say for herself on
this topic, spent a rare moment of observation, and caught sight of an un-
guarded look on Mr. Covington’s face as he gazed at her second daughter.
Never backward to credit what was for the advantage of her family, or that
came in the shape of a lover to any of her daughters, she was immediately
delighted. She began to offer him attention, and mark her deference for his
opinions sufficiently to catch the embarrassed attention of her daughters.
At this point, Lydia, who had just returned from Meryton where she
had paid a visit to Mrs. Forster, burst into the room with her usual energy,
barely stopping to greet their guests before launching into a lively rendition
of her adventures in the town and the plans she and her friend had made
for her stay in Brighton. She took off a mournful Kitty to see her latest pur-
chases, leaving behind a room that seemed much quieter for her absence.
Mrs. Covington, with the slightest of frowns, asked Mrs. Bennet, “Is
your family travelling to Brighton this summer, then?”
Mrs. Bennet explained the circumstances, bewailing a little her hus-
band’s cruelty in not permitting the entire family to go.
“I can well understand why you would be reluctant to allow Lydia to
go without being there to supervise her in person,” said Mrs. Covington
9