A Friend's Betrayal: A Season of Misunderstanding, #2

By Meg Osborne

Intent on avoiding both Elizabeth Bennet and her manipulative sister, Fitzwilliam Darcy whisks Charles Bingley back to London, abandoning Elizabeth to her own obstinacy, convincing himself he cares nothing for her.

Eager to support her sister, Elizabeth finds herself at odds with first Mr Darcy and then her family as her attempts to divert Mr Collins and encourage Jane all come to nought. Her fledgling friendship with Mr Wickham causes her still more isolation and Elizabeth is left wondering if she has put her trust in the wrong people?

 

A Friend's Betrayal is book two in the Season of Misunderstanding series of Pride and Prejudice variation novellas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Meg Osborne
• Release date: Mar 27, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386040965

Meg Osborne

Meg Osborne is an avid reader, tea drinker and unrepentant history nerd.  She writes sweet historical romance stories and Jane Austen fanfiction, and can usually be found knitting, dreaming up new stories, or adding more books to her tbr list than she'll get through in a lifetime.

Book preview

Chapter One

Mr William Collins had been to Hertfordshire precisely once in his life. It had not changed much. From his childhood, he recalled verdant farmland and fields, great swathes of land punctuated by estates and villages including that which was his destination. Meryton. Thence: Longbourn . Just summoning the name of his future home gave him a tiny thrill. He would enjoy seeing it again for he had been but a small boy when his father and Mr Bennet last met and he had been dragged away so forcefully by his father upon the two gentlemen’s falling out that he was curious to see how well his memory retained a true picture of the estate.

Meryton!

The stagecoach slowed and a few of his travelling companions disembarked with him. He clambered down, gingerly setting his feet down on solid ground once more and rejoicing that he would be at last granted a little respite from the constant motion of the coach. He took a step forward, stumbling a little, but recovered himself quickly, glancing up in time to see a pretty young lady turn away from him. His cheeks burned. She had been travelling with her mother, he supposed, and were he a braver man he might have spoken to them. They were strangers here, too, if her mother’s unceasing narration had been accurate. It would be a Christian thing to do, to offer to escort them wherever they wished to go next. He swallowed, turning back to the young lady and waited patiently for her mother to acknowledge him.

Madam, he began, when she paused to glance at him. Good day. He bowed in the direction of her daughter. I wonder if I might offer my services in escorting you to your destination...

Oh! The younger lady beamed prettily at him but her mother was quick to draw their conversation to a close.

You are kind, sir, but we are in no need of such an escort. I am sure you are also very busy in continuing your own journey, whilst we seek to rest a while before moving on. She dragged her daughter away with a determination that discouraged William from following. Letting out a low sigh, he turned back towards the carriage, retrieving his case from the pile that had been deposited on the ground. He might as well continue on foot. It was imprudent to pay for a carriage and if his calculations were correct, it would be little more than a mile from here to Longbourn. He might walk that easily enough.

Shouldering his burden, he turned in a slow circle, trying desperately to get his bearings. Feeling himself under scrutiny he saw another of his travelling companions, a handsome young man whose very presence had seemed to expand into the entire interior of the carriage, regarding him with thinly-veiled amusement.

Good afternoon, he said, haughtily, envying the man his looks and his confidence, but feeling a faint flush of pride when he noticed the thin places in the man’s jacket. It was expensive, or it had been, once. Well made, but old, and made over so many times it was beginning to show.

Are you new to Meryton, Mr...? The fellow let his question hang so that politeness urged William to introduce himself far quicker than he otherwise might have done.

Collins. He sniffed. William Collins. I am a curate, he added unnecessarily, for his simple dark suit and cap designated his profession even if had not clutched a bible in his hand for half the journey, attempting to read before the jolt of the carriage had forced him to admit defeat.

Indeed! The fellow grinned. A noble profession. It behoves me to offer my assistance, then, and ask if you require directing to any place in particular. I am not long in Meryton myself, but I wager I have a little more knowledge of the place than one so recently arrived as you.

William’s features were stretched into a polite smile, and he realised, with irritation, that if he wished to reach Longbourn before the evening began to encroach, it would be wise to accept such an easy offer of help.

I am actually bound beyond Meryton, he confessed, at last, setting down the case that was so heavy it tugged all the muscles in his arm until they were limp.

A pity! his new acquaintance said, with a grin that belied his disappointment. I was rather hoping I might persuade you to join me for some refreshment. He stood towering over William, who straightened and wished, not for the first time, that he had inherited height, as well as girth, from his father.

I am on my way to visit family, he said, importantly. Alas, they will be expecting me and so I ought not to delay any longer. Their estate is called Longbourn. I do not suppose you know it? He hoped his voice did not sound so tinged with eagerness and anxiety to this fellow as it did to his own ears.

Longbourn? His friend’s smile grew, a strange gleam lighting his eyes. I do not suppose the family you intend to call on possess the name Bennet, do they?

You know them? William’s mouth was agape. What Providence! The Lord himself had provided him with a helper, right in his hour of need. Truly he must approve of William’s errand and was already lighting his way.

I am a little acquainted with them, his friend said, nodding towards the case that William had set down. Here, why not allow me to carry that. It is hardly becoming for a curate to carry his own luggage and I wager the exercise will do me good. I am in the regiment but have neglected my duties awhile. He smiled, lifting the burden as easily as if it had been filled with air. William’s lips turned down but he swallowed the flash of indignance he felt. This stranger was doing him a kindness, it would be rude indeed to offer him anything other than gratitude.

I would not like to keep you from your duties, Mr... he began, deploying the fellow’s own technique against him. If he recognised the trick, he did not say so, grinning with such warmth that William felt his irritation slip away as they began to move as one towards the edge of the town square - precisely in the opposite direction to the one William Collins’ own spirit had inclined towards.

Wickham, his guide replied, his smile growing. George Wickham.

LIZZY! KITTY BENNET peered around the edge of her door, attracting her sister’s attention with a whisper. Is he here yet?

Is who here yet? Elizabeth asked. She paused in her progress along the corridor to examine her sister with curiosity. Why are you whispering?

Shh! There was a hushed giggle from behind Kitty, and the door opened a little further to reveal another sister - Lydia - crouching within. We are in hiding, Lizzy, she confessed, with a rosy smile. "We do not want to be easily found when he gets here."

She muttered the male pronoun with such vehemence that Lizzy realised right away to whom it was her sisters referred, and from whom they were hiding. Mr William Collins, their father’s cousin, was at that very moment en route to Longbourn, and his rumoured arrival had had an interesting effect upon the household. Elizabeth was a little anxious, certainly, at the arrival of a cousin she had only ever heard referred to occasionally and never yet met. That he was the male relative to whom Longbourn was entailed made him a figure of suspicion as far as their mother was concerned and even Mr Bennet was quiet and subdued whenever he had cause to speak of him. In truth, it was her father’s quietness, more than her mother’s despair, that prompted Lizzy’s own concern, for she had scarcely ever known her father to be ruffled by anything, yet the arrival of Mr Collins seemed to have done it. Lydia and Kitty, eager for drama, were convinced their whole family was about to be forcibly evicted and even Jane and Mary seemed a little pale when the name Mr Collins surfaced at the dining table. The three older girls were reserving judgment, it seemed, although Lizzy and Jane had conducted more than one whispered discussion on what the mysterious Mr Collins might be like and what his reason might be to suddenly seek to renew his acquaintance with them after so long an estrangement.

You shall have to greet him at some point, Elizabeth remarked, eyeing her sisters with reluctant admiration. I would quite happily keep to my room and wait out his visit, too! she acknowledged, but alas, he would be staying at Longoburn. There would be no avoiding him entirely. He is to be our guest, she reminded Lydia. And he will be coming with us the Lucas’ dinner.

Kitty let out a sigh and Lydia’s eyes flashed angrily.

I do think it very rude that he has found himself invited to a gathering as our guest when he was not invited on his own merit.

How could he be? Elizabeth remarked, with a laugh. "Sir William does not know him. We hardly know him. And it is only politeness that our invitation to their dinner be extended to include him, now that we know he is coming to stay."

There was a wail from downstairs, and Lizzy’s nerves tensed.

Come down, do, she implored her sisters. Mama is feeling quite...fragile. I know she will be encouraged to see us all in the parlour ready to greet our guest with enthusiasm and with cheer. She shrugged her shoulders. You never know. Mr Collins might be quite charming. Or handsome. Or... She threw up her hands. I do not know. He might be any one of a dozen things, none of which you will determine if you remain cloistered away up here. She lowered her voice, imbuing it with the combination of nonchalance and challenge she knew most likely to entice her sisters into action.

"Mary is already downstairs and eager to meet him." It was not entirely true: Mary was rarely eager to meet anybody, particularly if that person happened to be both a gentleman and a stranger, but the noting that their plain, quiet sister would make their cousin’s acquaintance before they did and thus be privy to any gossip and news before them was precisely what was required to spur both Kitty and Lydia into action. For a comical half-second, nobody moved and then all at once the door flew open and both Elizabeth’s sisters hurried past her, fighting one another over who should descend the stairs first.

Smiling to herself, Lizzy continued after them, pausing only at the sound of Jane’s voice, floating down to her from behind.

You managed that well! Her eyes sparkled. I am always in awe at how well you manage your sisters, Elizabeth.

Not all of my sisters, Lizzy acknowledged,