Free Charlotte Collins: A Continuation of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice by Jennifer Becton Page B

did. She found it unethical for her to divulge Mr. Card's feelings even if his mother had been thoughtless enough to do so. This argument alone, however, was not strong enough to convince Charlotte to conceal the facts. It was her knowledge of her sister's nature that solidified her decision. Maria would only make a mess of the situation if she knew of Mr. Card's intentions. She could imagine Maria's obvious attempts to avoid him or to slough him off on other young women. It was a charade that Charlotte had no desire to watch.
    In addition, it was quite clear that Maria did indeed harbor an interest in Mr. Westfield, and she was not going to be satisfied until she had made a fool of herself over him.
    What a fix! A good man loved Maria, but she did not love him. She persisted in fancying another man, who may or may not be in the process of being corrupted by his questionable uncle. And Charlotte was caught in the middle. How had she come to be in this situation? After Mr. Collins's death, she had enjoyed a quiet life, and somehow her solitude had been replaced by vexation and confusion. Peace was nowhere to be found, and Charlotte was forced to search for solace in the cocoa plant.
    After finishing her second cup of chocolate, she attempted to read, but still she felt restless. She considered a conversation with Mrs. Eff, but she was too jittery. Deciding that perhaps a walk into town and a browse around the shops would calm her, she notified Mrs. Eff of her departure and left a note for Maria, who was still asleep.
    Charlotte walked briskly along the side of the road, and soon the hem of her dress was dampened with dew. Her spirits, however, were much brightened by the time she arrived in Westerham. She visited several shops but purchased nothing, and as noon approached, she walked to the Circulating Library.
    She was considering a new novel when she sensed a presence beside her and glanced over to find Mr. Edgington, the red-haired gentleman who had bumped into her at the ball, perusing a volume several feet away.
    "Good morning, Mr. Edgington."
    "Good morning, Mrs. Collins," he said politely. "A pleasant morning for a browse around the shops, is it not?"
    "Yes, quite."
    "What do you read?"
    "I am sorry to say that I enjoy novels."
    "Why are you sorry to say that?"
    "Are not novels considered to be a lower form of entertainment? Especially those whose content is comedic?"
    "People who believe that must not comprehend the need for levity and release in our lives."
    "You are quite right. Our lives are serious enough, and I find it odious indeed always to read books of great import."
    Mr. Collins had been a dutiful student of sermons, and he had been displeased when Charlotte became bored of them.
    Mr. Edgington smiled. "I concur. In fact, I am here for a book of travel narratives."
    "Also an interesting subject. Far more interesting than a collection of sermons."
    "Were you required to study sermons as a child as I was?" he said with a grimace. "I can vividly recall sitting in my room and reading Fordyce's tome while my friends were allowed to run free in the out of doors."
    "I am also well acquainted with Dr. Fordyce's advice, but not from my childhood. Mr. Collins was a great believer in his tenets."
    He looked at her earnestly. "I find many of his beliefs rather archaic. Even as a young child, I could not comprehend his idea of such severe subjugation of women. Those of your sex should be free to enjoy life just as a man might."
    Charlotte was not certain that Mr. Edgington was speaking of entirely innocent subjects when he talked of release and pleasure. His tone was placid, but something in his eye seemed to suggest conspiracy. Or was she imagining it? Charlotte hoped to temper their discussion. "I find some of his advice for modest speech and action to be useful even today, but I have no scruples in admitting that I find his ideas regarding subjugation to the male of the species, no matter how worthy, to be very