“It is a delicate balance for me to impart the joys of my life to Emily whilst not pushing her so hard that she ends up disliking everything!” Elizabeth looked into her aunt’s warm eyes. “Fortunately, she loves to sing. And as she would prefer for me to read her a book than to read one herself , she is more willing to read a book than practice on the pianoforte. Playing is still a struggle for her.”

Mr. Gardiner chuckled. “It seems to me you must find something Emily enjoys less than playing and give her the choice of the two. Chances are she will pick playing.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Such as picking weeds in the garden?” She paused to sip some tea. “I fear she does not have the long, slender fingers that are advantageous in playing, yet her parents would so much love for her to both play and sing.”

As the family conversed and ate together, Elizabeth savoured every bit of news shared as well as every morsel of food. She was grateful to be governess to a very sweet little girl with very kind and agreeable parents, but she greatly missed her family the remainder of the week.

Elizabeth’s spirits were high at church that morning. She loved the Easter service more than any other during the year. It reinforced the foundation for her faith and gave her reason to joyfully attend services throughout the year.

The message that morning on forgiveness—how God offered up forgiveness to us and how we ought to offer up forgiveness to others—struck within Elizabeth a deep sense of conviction. She realized she had been harbouring resentment toward Mr. Collins and her friend Charlotte for taking Longbourn from them. They had every lawful right to claim it as theirs, and after all, they had made the Bennet ladies an offer to remain there as long as needed.

Fortunately, the few months it took for the Collinses to move to Longbourn allowed the Bennets to secure their new living arrangements. Charlotte had a newborn baby and did not think travelling would be wise until he was at least six months old. Elizabeth often wondered if that was Charlotte’s way of granting them time to decide what to do. She was grateful that she secured a position as governess for the Willstones and was able to leave before the Collinses arrived.

Elizabeth had written to her friend only once since she had come to London, responding to an inquiry from her as to how she was faring. It was a brief and succinct missive, written with the barest civilities. Charlotte had since written two more letters that Elizabeth had never answered, always having a reason to postpone it.

By the end of the service that morning, Elizabeth knew she had to forgive the Collinses and decided that she would behave in a more forgiving manner toward them henceforth. She did not want bitterness to take hold of her life. She would write Charlotte directly and assure her that she felt no resentment toward her and express her fervent hope that they were happy at Longbourn.

At the reverend’s “Amen” at the close of the service, Elizabeth lifted her head, hoping to feel a great sense of peace at her resolution. Instead, a restless conviction stirred within her.

She narrowed her eyes as she realized that conviction pointed to Mr. Darcy. His offer of marriage should have been an honour in itself, but she had not been able to view it that way. His words had brutally hurt her, and she had responded in angry vehemence. Yet the letter he had presented to her the following day—and a year of reading and rereading it—had somewhat lessened her animosity.

It was still difficult, however, to forgive him for his contemptible audacity, holding that it was his right—his duty—to convince his friend Bingley of the error of his ways in his regard for Jane. Her heart still pounded in anger as she contemplated this. Elizabeth slowly turned her head, and catching the serene, resigned look upon Jane’s face, she felt that she would never be able to forgive him for that.

When they returned to the Gardiners’ after church, Jane tended to the four children as they came in, gathering their coats and gloves and ensuring that they were changed out of their church clothes before they came down to play. The spring day was cool, but the sun was shining brightly, giving all it could to warm up the air. The first blossoms of the season were beginning to bloom and the grey, dreary days of winter seemed behind them.

Elizabeth was always grateful for the occasional warmth of a spring Sunday, as the children enjoyed playing outdoors, allowing her and her sister and aunt to spend some uninterrupted time together. They retired to the sitting room, where both Elizabeth and Jane picked up samplers to stitch and their aunt simply sipped a cup of tea, enjoying the presence of her two favourite nieces.

With the children out of the room, Elizabeth asked the dreaded question she asked each week: “Has there been any news from home?”

Mrs. Gardiner looked uneasily at Jane, alerting Elizabeth to the fact that there had been some news and it most likely was not good. “Yes, Lizzy,” Jane replied. “Mother writes about Lydia.”

“Lydia! What does she have to say about Lydia?”

Elizabeth’s sister and aunt exchanged glances again. Her aunt answered, “Your mother writes that Lydia insists they have had a sufficient time of mourning and that she should like to rejoin her friends and the regiment, which has been removed from Brighton and is now stationed at Stratford.”

Elizabeth’s head went back in exasperation. “And what, pray, does Mother say to this? Is she at all inclined to forbid this?”

Jane shook her head. “No, in fact, Lydia is most likely gone by now.”

Elizabeth took in a deep breath. “Oh, that headstrong girl! It has not even been a full year since Father’s death, and all she can think about is getting back to her friends and the officers!”

“Be not distressed, Elizabeth,” Jane assured her in her characteristically calm voice. “I am sure we can trust that Lydia will be on her best behaviour with the Forsters. They will look after her.”

“She will openly flirt with the officers and have no regard for modesty and decorum!”

“Elizabeth,” her aunt implored. “Have more faith in the Forsters. Have more faith in your sister!”

Elizabeth put her sampler down and folded her arms in front of her. “What else does she say?”

Jane looked down as Mrs. Gardiner gave her another piece of information.

“Netherfield has been sold.”

“Sold?”

Jane took a deep breath and looked up. Her blue eyes dimmed as she continued. “Yes, a family from the north has made an eligible offer and it has been accepted.”

“So Mr. Bingley never had any intention of returning.”

Jane returned her eyes to her sampler as she slowly shook her head. Elizabeth wondered if she was shielding her tears from her.

“Well, ladies.” Mrs. Gardiner thought it was time to change the subject. “Let us turn our attention to something more pleasant. Tell me, Elizabeth, what is new at the Willstone residence?”

Some recent news in that quarter brought a smile to Elizabeth’s face. “Mrs. Willstone’s sister, Rosalyn Matthews, is coming to London to spend several weeks with the family before we all return to the Willstones’ country home in Nottinghamshire.”

“And when will that be, dearest?”

“I believe it will be by the end of May or beginning of June.”

Jane looked up and sighed. “How we will miss your weekly visits, Lizzy! Is it altogether settled?”

“The Willstones are not inclined to spend the summer here.”

“Oh, Lizzy, how I wish things were different.”

“I know, Jane,” Elizabeth said softly. “I know.”

“I have heard they have a wonderful estate in the country,” her aunt reassured her, a smile revealing some creases that had begun to appear on her face. “I am quite certain you will be much happier there. I can just imagine you taking walks in the beautiful countryside.”

“But I shall miss you greatly.”

“And we shall miss you, too,” her aunt assured her. “But we will write, and will look forward to your return to Town later this year.”

For the remainder of the day, the topics of Lydia leaving for Stratford, Netherfield being sold, and Elizabeth leaving for the country were not discussed. Elizabeth cherished the closeness she felt to Jane and her aunt, and envied them for being able to be together when she could not. When she left later that evening, she found herself already looking forward to next week’s visit.

Upon returning to the Willstones’ home, she greeted the family and went up to her room. She was grateful she was not expected to report for her duties until seven o’clock the next morning.

The first thing she did was to go to the desk and pull out a piece of stationery. She sat down and began penning a letter to Charlotte. Despite her earlier assurance to Charlotte that their decision to move out of Longbourn was for the best, she wished now to convey to her how deeply she still treasured her as a friend.

When the letter was complete and addressed, she sat back, looking down at it. Despite her wish to do away with all resentment toward her friend, it seemed terribly amiss to have the name Collins and Longbourn together. She dropped her hands into her lap, letting out a long, disheartened sigh.

Elizabeth was normally not one to question providence, but she certainly did not understand all of the events that transpired the previous year. Certainly her father’s death had greatly affected and grieved her and her family. As her mother lamented, “His death could not have been more ill-timed! None of our girls married, and now we are to be out of Longbourn!”