Bad Austen (8 page)

With Lizzy’s unfathomable declination of Mr. Collins’s proposal, Mary finally saw her chance to capture his attention. tonight she would delight Mr. Collins with several turns at the piano and flatter him by asking him to read aloud for the benefit of her mind. She didn’t feel her mind needed much more cultivation, but a man as learned as Mr. Collins would appreciate a woman listening intently and whose mind was focused more on the improvement of manners in a civilized society instead of the latest fashion in bonnets.

Mary considered the satisfaction she would feel when she married first; when she was finally treated as the heroine she was; when she—plain, insignificant, overlooked Mary Bennet—saved Longbourn from being entailed away. oh, she could see the envious and grateful looks of her sisters as she marched down the aisle, on her way to becoming Mrs. Collins. How they would fawn over her for saving them from destitution. How her mother would dote over her. Then she would become her mother’s favorite instead of that vapid Lydia.

She rose from her dressing table and picked up a half-finished floral pillow cover to use as a substitute bouquet. With her head held high, her bedroom became a church; the window seat, a pew. There was Jane, beautiful, ethereal Jane. The look of gratitude on her sister’s face made up for all the dances Jane was asked for that Mary was not. She acknowledged her sister with a nod of her head. And there, sitting next to Jane was elizabeth.
Yes, that’s right, Elizabeth. You turned him down; now watch me marry the only man who will ever propose to you
.

Elizabeth was looking down, holding her handkerchief to her eyes. Was she crying? Or was she laughing? Poor Lizzy, this could have been her wedding day and now she regretted her decision. Madness would be her lifelong companion. Mary pitied her and glanced at her with worry.

In Kitty’s eyes she saw … boredom? Poor kitty, her attention had never been captured by anything for long. She smiled condescendingly at her. Lydia looked at her mischievously; perhaps she was imagining her future walk down the aisle. Mary smiled at her simple sister; after all, she wasn’t a horrid person, just flighty. She could hear her mother weeping with joy.

Mary’s reverie was interrupted by a sharp rap on the door. She threw the embroidery back to its workspace as the maid announced supper. Her heart quickened at the thought of the proximity she would soon have to her beloved Mr. Collins, but she managed a dignified walk down the stairs to her appointed seat at the table. She sat down with an interior excitement that no one at the table suspected—then with horror noticed that her Mr. Collins was not there.

The tenseness at the table was disturbed by Mrs. Bennet’s occasional exclamations of “Charlotte Lucas! Charlotte Lucas!” Mr. Bennet did not even try to calm or comfort her. Mary was confounded by her mother’s behavior until Kitty whispered to her that Mr. Collins had become engaged to Charlotte Lucas that afternoon and was dining at Lucas Lodge that evening.

Alas, she did not whisper softly enough, and that set Mrs. Bennet off on another round of exclamations and up to her room with a headache. Mr. Bennet continued to enjoy his dinner, and his daughters managed to uphold a pleasant, if not exactly lively, conversation.

Mary was lost in the indignity of it all. How could they just go on? Did they not know she had just lost the love of her life? The outrage! The stunning outrage! Just a few moments ago, she was on her way to being the savior of her sisters, and now she was back to being ignored; certainly no one at the supper table had noticed her agitation. No one at the supper table noticed her at all.

J
ohn &
R
ebeccah:
A
T
ale of
L
ove
M
idst the
S
tars

C
HERYL
A
NGST

It should be noted that John Thompson, formerly a lecturer of distinction and more recently a captain in the fleet, being a widower these many years and having become exceedingly set in his solitary ways, placed little stock in the attentions of the fairer sex. Thus, it came as quite a shock to his disposition to discover not one, but two women vying for his affections—however atrophied and unpractised those affections might now be.

Miss Rebeccah Santiago, whose skill with the written word made angelic melodies of the driest ration cutlery reports, possessed the most remarkable green eyes, and Mr. Thompson experienced the stirrings of emotions long buried whenever she turned her sparkling orbs on him. And, to his great surprise, she seemed to regard his slate ones with similar interest.

Miss Miller, the other young woman pursuing the esteemed captain, while demonstrating many outward signs of being well-bred and a desirable helpmeet for any man fortunate enough to attract her eye, was, in fact, mean in both thought and action, regarding her fellow officers as trappings to be used and discarded as necessary. And from Miss Miller’s perspective, Mr. Thompson represented the Sunday-best bonnet in the wardrobe of her life.

Despite Miss Miller’s brash attempts to entice the captain, Mr. Thompson’s burgeoning feelings of warmth and desire were firmly directed at Miss Rebeccah. However, Miss Rebeccah had yet to discern Mr. Thompson’s mind in the matter of his heart, and she fretted, although, as the second in command, she would deny such actions most vehemently and conspired to determine the true nature of Mr. Thompson’s regard once and for all.

“Sir,” Miss Rebeccah said, “if I may, I would like a word with you.” She paused in her request and glanced pointedly at Miss Miller. “In private.”

“Of course,” he replied and retired to his office, attributing the stuttering of his heart to Miss Rebeccah’s increasing influence over his being.

“Sir,” said Rebeccah, “I am concerned you do not view me in the way I wish to be perceived, and I feel compelled to rectify this matter immediately.”

Mr. Thompson was taken aback. Had he misinterpreted her intentions from the outset? He shook his head and apologized.

“No, sir,” she replied, “I do not desire your culpability, but rather to hear, in your own words, precisely how you see me, as an officer and, more importantly, as a woman.”

Fearing he could lose one of the most capable executive officers he’d had the pleasure of serving with if he misspoke, he couched his answer in terms of her professional qualities and stayed as far as possible from describing how her beauty and wit entranced him.

Miss Rebeccah sidled closer to the captain, frustrated by his avoidance of the more personal aspect of her request. “That is all well and good, sir, but,” she said, stepping near, so near that if she inhaled deeply, her uniform must surely brush his, “what are your views on me as a member of the opposite sex?”

Heat raced up Thompson’s neck, burning his ears and setting his cheeks aflame. How she affected him! Her eyes, such green eyes, held him captive and a slave to her will, and he, he acknowledged without regret, wished to remain imprisoned for the rest of his mortal life.

Rebeccah started as his lips pressed into hers. Her heart, skit-tering as it was with apprehension, threatened to escape her chest as the truth of his feelings for her became readily apparent. She permitted him to draw her more deeply into his embrace and fought down her own rising desire when he ceased his tender display of tonguesmanship.

“You are the most remarkable woman I have ever had the acquaintance of,” said Thompson. “My darling, you complete my soul, and I would rather be tossed out an air lock than spend another minute living without you.”

Rebeccah leaned in and kissed Thompson again.

She stepped back, heart full to bursting, when he asked, “Have I made myself sufficiently clear?”

Rebeccah, confident in the rightness of their love, replied, “Perfectly, Captain. I am exceedingly relieved we had this discussion. Now that we understand one another, I feel as though a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders.”

“I fear it has been some time since I last courted,” said Thompson. “You may find my efforts fail to meet your expectations.”

“I don’t need you to pitch woo, Mr. Thompson,” said she. “our love for one another, freely acknowledged here, is adequate assurance that your affections are genuine.”

Captain Thompson marveled at the woman standing before him. His life of solitary contemplation ended the moment he took her into his arms, and, like the beckoning stars beyond the viewports, he would follow both to the ends of the universe.

P
ride and
P
redictions

K
RISTINE
H
UDSON

Elizabeth Bennet sat at the table in complete expectancy. “My mother says that you are the very best occultist. You can see the future just as we look out the window to see the day’s weather.”

The occultist Celeste nodded her head and smiled gently. “Yes, your mother is correct. What is the question of your heart?”

“Who is the man I will marry?” Elizabeth asked. Her voice trembled slightly.

Celeste turned several tarot cards face-up. Elizabeth could not tell from her expression if the future was sunny or cloudy.

“There is a man in your life now. One with great charm,” Celeste said. She pointed to the King of Cups. The card was upside down. “My dear, this man is not true to you in his words and deeds.”

Elizabeth gasped; a hand went over her face. “Mr. Wickham is kind and decent. He is a lieutenant.”

Celeste pointed to the card next to it, the King of Swords. “There is another man, dark-haired and quite energetic. This is a man who is true to his words. I see a marriage with him motivated by love and not convenience. However, this King of Swords has said words that wounded you in the past?”

Darcy. Tears came to Elizabeth’s eyes. She shook her head vehemently. “No, you are wrong. Something is terribly wrong. I agree that the dark-haired man has been hurtful, but I have no desire to marry him. There is no desire from him as well.”

Celeste tipped back her head and laughed, deep and cackling. “The cards do not lie. Destiny does not lie. Fate does not tell us tall tales. This man,” Celeste pointed to the card again. “Darcy is the one you will marry. And you will desire this marriage just as deeply as he does!”