Page 37 of Miss Bennet's Dragon
“I defendyoufrom yourself, Lizzy. Charlotte is happy. It is you who are aggravated.”
I harrumphed but could not think of a clever response. Finally, I settled for, “I am quite sick of men interfering in women’s lives. Mr. Bingley will return, but I am vexed with him for being so influenced by his sister. And now, Mr. Collins has… hasproposedagain, and Charlotte’s acceptance is troublesome.”
“It seems you are complaining of women.”
“Men are the root of it all.” I flopped onto our bed, and the quilt puffed up around me. “And Mr. Darcy has run away.”
“Surely you desired that?”
“Of course.” I was not even sure why I had said that. “But I shall need a new partner for arguing.”
“There is still Mr. Wickham. Or do you have other plans for him than arguing?”
I had told Mr. Wickham’s story to Jane. That was a dilemma for her, who was so sweet-hearted that she could not believe Mr. Darcy would do something that dreadful, nor could she believe Mr. Wickham would say anything but the truth.
“I have no idea what my plans are for Mr. Wickham.” I sighed at the ceiling.
Still, at least Mr. Wickham would not be missing any more balls. I should challenge Lydia to see who achieved more dances with dashing officers. That would be both vain and complacent. I may as well be efficient in my shallow pursuits.
And, I did enjoy him. I was impressed when we first met. Should I be entranced by now? Or in love?
If I put my mind to it, perhaps I could become in love. But a strategy of self-coercion, or worse, self-deception, scraped even more than Charlotte’s philosophy of practicality.
There was a tentative knock at our door, and a Scottish brogue said, “Ma’am?”
I sat up. “Oh! Please come in.” The Scottish laundry maid entered, curtsying. I stood, smiling in welcome. “Jane, do you remember…”
I realized I had never asked her name. Not even from Mrs. Hill. How idiotic. And complacent.
Jane rose and took her hand. “Of course, I remember. I have seen you at Longbourn often, and you helped when I was ill at Netherfield. I must have been a great inconvenience.”
Only Jane could have such perfect grace while rescuing her foolish sister. Determined to make amends, I stepped in and gave the maid a hug, feeling her astonishment. “You have done more than help. I owe you my sister’s health, or more likely, her life. You have my deepest and most heartfelt thanks.”
“Your sweet sister Jane is up an’ about. I am as happy for that as could be. What else is there?”
“Forgive me, but I have not had occasion to ask your name?”
“Bruichladdich, ma’am.”
Good gracious. Perhaps I should not have asked. I took a breath and tried my best.
“Mrs. Brook-ladder,” I said. “I was most concerned to discover you lost your position at Netherfield. I am fully responsible.”
“?’Tain’t so serious, lassie,” she replied, relaxing into a smile. “I go bout t’ all the manors on wash days. That was just one of ’em, na’ much. And not my favorite. I been washing for Longbourn since you were wee ’uns.”
I had struggled to follow her, but I thought I understood. “Would youlikea position? Here, at Longbourn?”
“Are you needing laundry every day, then, ma’am? I see you dirtying evenmore petticoats than you used ta, and you were a terror as a girl.” I felt myself coloring as she continued, “But laundry is na’ a daily chore.”
“But… some other position?”
“I wash laundry, ma’am. I wouldn’t know what else to do.”
We had reached my other reason to meet. “Perhaps I could engage your services to advise on draca?”
“Ma’am?” She seemed very taken aback.
“You are so knowledgeable. We have been attempting to interpret our family’s journal…” I showed her the journal and the rubbing Jane had taken of the cover.
