P&P The Untold Stories: Charlotte’s Last Day as a Single Woman

Charlotte’s past comes back to meet her

Author Note: This is part of a mini-series of scenes telling the story of Charlotte Lucas’ other romance. Here are the previous parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

January 8, 1811

Charlotte’s farewell visit to the Bennet ladies was not one she would remember with pleasure. Mrs. Bennet, who had always been kind to her until she became engaged, was ungracious throughout it. Lizzy had the courtesy to walk her downstairs afterwards, which Charlotte particularly appreciated since she wanted to invite her to visit in Kent. She had not forgotten the judge’s words about finding her companionship elsewhere than her husband, and Lizzy had been her closest friend for years.

Lizzy at first tried to dodge the invitation—hardly surprising given her dislike of Mr. Collins—but finally agreed, to Charlotte’s great relief. It meant a great deal to know that she would have a friend still, even if Lizzy still couldn’t hide her disapproval of Charlotte’s marriage. Sometimes she forgot just how young Lizzy was, and the difference between the ages of twenty and eight-and-twenty. Lizzy’s world was so simple; she lived in the present and did not think of the future. People had few shades of grey in her mind. Charlotte wondered what Lizzy would think if she knew the truth of her situation.

Apparently feeling some guilt over her reluctance to visit, Lizzy offered to walk back to Lucas Lodge with her, but Charlotte declined graciously. “I need a little time alone to think. Once I am home, I will be inundated with wedding preparations.”

Lizzy, who loved solitary walks, apparently saw nothing odd in this, and waved to Charlotte as she set off down the drive. But Charlotte had no intention of taking the usual road back to Lucas Lodge, and soon veered off on a narrow path into the woods. Her pulse raced, but not from the exercise, and anxiety gnawed away at her insides. Would he be there, or had he already left Hertfordshire?

She hitched up her skirts for the final climb to the ruined chapel on the hilltop. Overgrown by trees, no one ever visited it, but it had been a favorite childhood retreat of hers. Now it was something else entirely. It was where they had gone on Guy Fawkes Night.

He was standing in the doorway waiting for her. She had planned to keep her distance from him, but the urge to be close to him was more powerful than she had anticipated, and she permitted him to draw her into his arms. Permitted was perhaps the wrong word when she had practically fallen into his arms, finding herself awash with sensations and feelings as soon as she had. Desire was only part of it; rather it was knowing he desired her and cared for her for who she was, not merely to satisfy a demanding patroness. But it made her happy, and grateful she was not yet married and could justify these liberties to herself—almost. How would she live without this?

She would find a way. It was sweet to be wanted, but she was in the habit of finding contentment where she could. Who would have thought it would be in the arms of her former lover on the day before her wedding to another man? How shocked all her friends and family would be to see practical, dependable Charlotte right now! That thought made her even happier.

“Thank you for agreeing to see today,” he murmured in her ear. “You cannot imagine what it means to me that, even if we have no future together, that we part with happier memories. And I will do my best to wish you happy in your future.”

Charlotte did not want to think about that future, or the man she was to marry who was waiting for her at Lucas Lodge. She wanted to treasure this moment and the sensation of being held by the man she cared for. She did not question her decision to marry Mr. Collins, at least not seriously. She was happy to be with her lover, happy to hear his voice and to rest in his embrace, but she also recognized that fundamentally he was a weak man who was too easily swayed by what he desired at any given moment. If they married, that trait would eventually kill her affection for him. She would rather have the memories of today to carry with her through the years ahead.

Reluctantly she drew back from him. “Shall we walk?” If they remained at the chapel, it would be too easy to go farther than an embrace.

“If you wish.” He offered her his arm

As they began down the path into the woods, she said, “You said before that there were things you still wanted to tell me.”

“And you expect me to remember them when you are with me?” He placed his hand over hers where it rested on his forearm, his gaze intent.

“You mentioned something about telling me why you were so angry at women.”

“Oh, yes.” He sighed before launching into his tale. It was the usual story; a bored heiress who had led him on for her own entertainment, and then humiliated him with a very public refusal. “I do not claim it as an excuse for my behavior; still, I wanted you to know. But there is one thing I would ask you.”

“Yes?”

He hesitated. “Were there any consequences of that night in November?”

She did not pretend to misunderstand him. “I cannot say. I have had no proof that I am not in that condition, but it is not unusual for me to lack proof on a regular basis.”

“I do not know whether I wish for it or not, but it will be hard never to know.”

“If you wish, I could try to send a message through Judge Braxton, although it might be some time before I have the opportunity to do so. I do not know how often I will return here, and he is frequently in London.”

“I would appreciate some word, and it will be…good to know I will hear from you again, at least that once, even if you are far away. Where does he live, your Mr. Collins?” he said with an edge to his voice.

“In the village of Hunsford in Kent, not far from Tunbridge Wells.”

He looked away for a moment with a sharp, indrawn breath. “I know where it is. It is just over ten miles from my father’s house. I visit there occasionally. Someday it will be mine.”

Her eyes widened. “You do?”

“Tell me that you will allow me to see you again, at least from time to time. I will find a way to make it work. Please, Charlotte. I will not ask for anything improper. I give you my word.”

And this from the man who had embraced her as soon as she was close enough to touch! “Will you not want more than friendship?”

His expression grew determined. “Of course I will want more, but I will settle for friendship.”

The tightness in her chest, the fear of finality, lessened. “I am willing to make the attempt.”

They walked on, without knowing in what direction. There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects. Finally she realized the shadows were getting longer. She had been gone from Lucas Lodge too long, and would have to think of a good excuse for why she had lingered at her farewell call to the Bennets, but she did not care. This was not a final goodbye, and that made all the difference.

He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. It was not the polite hand-kiss of a friend. “Do not forget me, I beg you.”

Charlotte’s stomach lurched as she re-tied her bonnet strings. “Do you think I could?”

“I hope not.”

“These last months have been quite unforgettable, and you may depend on me to remember. After all, I am practical, dependable Charlotte Lucas.”

He caught her hand once more. “You are practical and dependable—but there is much more to you than that. Remember that when you remember me.”

She looked into his eyes and nodded slowly. “I will remember.”

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