Pride and Premeditation (Jane Austen Murder Mystery #1)(44)

“Mama?”

“You think I’m silly, but I see—you’re sneaking about on a case again, aren’t you?”

Of all the times for Mrs. Bennet to finally catch on! Lizzie attempted to refute the charge by saying, “Of course not!” When Mrs. Bennet didn’t buy it, she added, “Papa banished me from the office.”

“So you thought you’d use me to gather the information you need?”

That was exactly what she’d been doing. But she had to placate Mrs. Bennet—life would not be worth living if her mother did not at least think she had some control over her daughters’ lives. “Not at all, Mama. You’re well connected and informed, and I’ve always respected your extensive knowledge of society.”

“I don’t believe you,” Mrs. Bennet said, and, to Lizzie’s horror, began to dab at her eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief. Lizzie set her needlework aside and repositioned herself at her mother’s side, rubbing her back. Lizzie’s desire to please her parents was not restricted to her father, so she was not happy to make her mother cry. But Lizzie also knew Mrs. Bennet was not content with her lot in life, and it was unfair of her to blame her disappointments on her husband and daughters. Lizzie feared they would be forever disappointed in each other, and she didn’t know how to rectify the situation. But she also sensed that if she gave in to her mother’s expectations, she would turn out just like Mrs. Bennet—unhappy, but in her own way.

“Mama, Lady Catherine may be connected to a case, but I am curious.” When that got her nothing, Lizzie tried again. “You know, her dress was very fine, with the loveliest lace gloves I have ever seen.” Mrs. Bennet stopped dabbing at her eyes. “I can’t believe I’d never heard of her before. Has she recently come to town?”

Mrs. Bennet set her handkerchief down. “I would like to believe you,” she said.

“You can.”

“I shall tell you my gossip . . . if you do something for me.”

“Anything, Mama.”

She should have predicted Mrs. Bennet’s request and yet was still horrified when her mother smiled through her tears and said, “Invite Mr. Collins to dinner. Mr. Bennet keeps forgetting, and since you see him so often at the office, it should be proper for you to convey my invitation.”

“But I can’t—Papa has banished me.” Never had Lizzie thought she’d be glad to use this as an excuse.

“He won’t be cross if you’re delivering a message,” Mrs. Bennet said. “I’ll tell him.”

“I don’t know, Mama. Mr. Collins has been preoccupied of late.”

“All the more reason to invite him immediately. Don’t give me that look! I don’t wish to see this family homeless, so sacrifices must be made.”

Mrs. Bennet was not about to back down, and since Lizzie wasn’t going to share that Collins had been flirting with Charlotte earlier that week, Lizzie knew they had reached an impasse. Either she relented or her mother held on to her information.

You only have three days, she reminded herself.

“Fine,” Lizzie said. “I’ll invite him.”

“Excellent,” Mrs. Bennet said, delighted. “Now, as to Lady Catherine, I’ve never heard of her. I recall a Sir Lewis de Bourgh from Kent, but he died years ago, and I don’t believe he left a wife or any children. Perhaps she is a distant relation that has been abroad. . . .”

Lizzie gaped. “That’s all? That’s nothing.”

“I told you exactly what I know. It is not my fault that you’re dissatisfied with my insight.”

Lizzie worked to tamp down her anger because she knew that Mrs. Bennet had merely played her the same way that Lizzie sought to use her. Perhaps they were more alike than she cared to admit.

Lizzie stood. A deal was a deal. “Well, I better get along to Longbourn, then.”

“We shall have a pleasant evening with Mr. Collins and wring a marriage proposal out of him yet!” her mother said cheerfully. “Oh, and Lizzie—I don’t know what Lady Catherine’s connections are, but do keep a civil tongue if you see her again. One never knows when it might be convenient to employ her good name.”

“Yes, Mama,” Lizzie said, already heading for the door.

“And for heaven’s sake, stay away from Mr. Darcy.”

Lizzie stopped and turned. “Why?”

“Because I just remembered—Mrs. Forster told me a most dreadful rumor that Mr. Darcy once challenged a man to a duel. That sort of reckless behavior is to be avoided.”

Mrs. Bennet kept talking, heedless of Lizzie’s shock. Lady Catherine hadn’t lied about that, then.

“Go on now,” Mrs. Bennet finished, not noticing Lizzie’s stunned expression. “Tell Mr. Collins Monday should be quite convenient.”

Lizzie was not entirely surprised to arrive at Longbourn and find Collins hovering over Charlotte’s desk. She sucked in a deep breath just as they noticed her presence.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Collins said, just a notch louder than necessary. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello, Lizzie,” Charlotte said. Her easygoing expression of a moment ago tightened into a nervous smile, and Lizzie found herself caught between wanting to wipe the smug look off of Collins’s face and wanting her friend to be happy. Charlotte won out. Lizzie exhaled slowly, brought out her best society smile, and said, “Hello, Mr. Collins, Charlotte. How are you both today?”