Chapter 6 Prudent Measures
CHAPTER SIX
PRUDENT MEASURES
Charlotte had done as she promised and arranged a meeting between Elizabeth and Lady Catherine de Bourgh to see if Elizabeth was indeed suitable for the position they had on offer.
Elizabeth entered Rosings House, the town home of the de Bourgh family, on a chilly day when the delights of springtime balls and walks in the park seemed very far off.
It was a large, elegant home just off St James’s Square, and she was grateful for the stateliness of the Gardiners’ carriage behind her.
Another lady in her circumstances might have arrived in a hackney chaise, but she at least had this much.
She still had not mentioned the position to her mother and sisters, although she had confided in her aunt Gardiner. She had no doubt that her mother would protest wildly against the descent in status no matter how much Elizabeth might stress that she was being hired as a friend only.
But it was the only prudent measure. Sitting round the hearth, wringing their hands and bemoaning the entail, was doing no one any good.
An aged butler hastened her down the corridor with more speed than she might have imagined such an ancient man could possess; moments later, she was announced into a commodious drawing room populated by a large woman, who appeared to be about sixty years old, and a handsome gentleman, who was likely half that.
The woman was seated in a throne-like chair, and the man stood beside her, like an attendant.
“Come here,” the lady—Lady Catherine, Elizabeth supposed—instructed with a crook of a bejewelled finger.
Elizabeth crossed the room to stand before her ladyship, who had remained seated.
She offered a respectful curtsey, then remained still as she bore a silent but sharp-eyed inspection.
The gentleman at length heaved an enormous sigh and placed one hand on his hip.
“Seems civility has been replaced with scrutiny. I am Lord Saye, and this is my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. You may call her Cathy, if you wish.”
The words seemed to electrify the older woman who stiffened and offered a blistering scowl in his direction. “No, she certainly may not! And neither shall you! The very notion!” Glaring at Elizabeth, she said, “You will call me Lady Catherine, and nothing else!”
Elizabeth smothered a grin. “Of course, your ladyship.”
“I shall tell you directly that you would do best to ignore most of what he says. Pray, sit there.” Lady Catherine gestured towards a wooden chair in front of her that Elizabeth imagined had been placed there specially.
Elizabeth sat and again underwent an inspection. To her nephew, Lady Catherine finally said, “She is a very pretty, genteel-seeming girl.”
Lord Saye nodded, one brow raised and a mirthful expression dancing in his eyes. “And as we have no cause to question the strength of her hearing, perhaps we ought to address her directly? Miss…Bennet, yes? You seem a genteel, pretty sort of girl.”
Again, Elizabeth hid a smile, and only thanked him.
Lady Catherine then subjected her to an array of questions, some expected and others not.
From these, Elizabeth learnt that she had been inadequately educated, that her father ought not to have died, and that—being that Mr Bennet had insisted upon dying—both she and Jane would have done better to get married before he did.
It might have offended her had she not suspected that accepting a position from this lady would require her to bear a great deal of more of the same.
Lord Saye was silent throughout and indeed seemed to have lost interest in the matter completely, examining his fingernails for most of the discussion.
When Lady Catherine had done, she turned to him. “Well, Saye? Have you any enquiries of your own?”
His lordship examined the painted ceiling. After a moment, he brightened and looked at Elizabeth. “If you were an animal, what sort of animal do you think you would be, and why?”
Elizabeth could not stifle her giggle, even as Lady Catherine turned an indignant countenance to her nephew. “None of your nonsense, Saye! Serious enquiries!”
“Very well!” he retorted with a huff. Thinking for another moment, he asked, with an excess of gravity, “If we permitted women to sit in Parliament, do you feel that—”
“Enough! Miss Bennet, you will ignore him, I pray.” Lady Catherine frowned in her nephew’s direction.
“We do not seek a lady’s companion, and in any case, you are far too young to be one.
What my daughter needs most of all is a friend, and you must be that friend for her.
You must not appear to be a paid attendant. ”
“Anne is painfully shy,” Lord Saye offered, and surprisingly, his aunt did not scowl at him for this.
“She is unfortunately of a sickly constitution,” Lady Catherine said sharply. “It has prohibited her from doing the things many ladies do, including going to school and attending parties. She was intended to marry her cousin—”
Lord Saye made some little noise that caused his aunt to shoot a look at him. He smiled blandly when she did, and she, seeming mollified, turned back to Elizabeth.
“—but her cousin has failed to honour the engagement. Being jilted has grievously affected her health and her spirits.”
“I am sorry to hear it,” Elizabeth replied with genuine feeling. “I shall be honoured to serve as her friend.”
“It is an honour,” Lady Catherine said with a nod. “I like you, Miss Bennet. You are properly grateful to your superiors. I daresay you will be precisely what she needs.”
“Is that your best gown?” Lord Saye gestured towards her.
Elizabeth glanced down at herself a moment, unsure whether she should admit it was or not.
“She will need more,” he informed his aunt. “And better.”
“Do you think I do not know that?” Lady Catherine replied to him. “That is why we are doing this now, that we might be prepared when the Season begins. Why, some ladies spend years amassing the appropriate wardrobe!”
Lady Catherine gave her another inspection, this time seeming to concentrate on her figure. “Happily, her size appears quite similar to Anne’s— You are not sickly are you, Miss Bennet?”
“No, ma’am. Only slender.”
Lady Catherine allowed her eyes to sweep over Elizabeth’s figure before continuing her prior thought. “She will be able to wear Anne’s gowns.”
“Oh! I could not—”
“Anne has enough gowns for six Seasons,” Lord Saye informed her. “And she is even now purchasing all new. It would not trouble her in the least to share them. In fact, I should wager she would not even notice.”
“And you must appear as if you belong with us. I mean to put it about that you are a friend from Kent that we are sponsoring as your own parents are deceased,” Lady Catherine said matter-of-factly.
“Now for the matter of payment. Even though we do not wish you to appear to be a servant, clearly you will receive…I suppose we shall call it an honorarium.”
Elizabeth nodded. The word ‘deceased’ had raised a brief bout of distress within her, but she would not show it.
“You will live here, of course, and you will have a small allowance. I will permit some expenditures at the dressmaker’s—Anne likes to shop, and it would be peculiar if you were to go along and not purchase anything.”
“Your true compensation will arrive once Anne has married,” Lord Saye added. “Five thousand pounds.”
Elizabeth failed to stifle her gasp, but it seemed her shock was pleasing to Lady Catherine who smiled without showing her teeth.
“Yes, you are amazed by my beneficence. You ought not to be. I daresay there are few women in England with a greater sense of noblesse oblige than I naturally possess. In any case, I like a young woman who seeks to make something of herself, who refuses to bow to misfortune.”
“Thank you, Lady Catherine.”
Lord Saye cleared his throat. “You must acquaint Miss Bennet with the strictures of her situation. Unless you have changed your mind?”
“Why should I change my mind?” Lady Catherine declared, glaring at her nephew who was examining his fingernails again and did not notice. “A person who considers her opinions carefully need never change her mind.”
Lord Saye did not reply to this, and so Lady Catherine turned back to Elizabeth.
“There are two rules I must insist you abide by strictly. The first is that, obviously, your energies must be devoted to Anne. Wholly devoted to finding her a husband, the sooner the better. You will save your own husband-hunting until she is, at the very least, engaged.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I assure you, my lady, I would never have imagined otherwise.”
“And the second rule is this: you must never, ever have any intercourse with Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy. Never.”
Elizabeth glanced at Lord Saye whose disinterested countenance revealed nothing. Was that the same Mr Darcy as had come to Hertfordshire with Mr Bingley? In any case, it did not signify, did it? “I am not acquainted with Mr Darcy.”
“Good. Do not consent to an introduction. He is a blackguard and a rake who does nothing but disappoint people.”
Lord Saye cleared his throat again.
“What is the meaning of all this throat-clearing?” Lady Catherine snapped. “Are you getting ill, Saye, or are you trying to vex me?”
“Did I clear my throat?” Lord Saye looked as though butter would not melt in his mouth. “My apologies, dear aunt.”
Lady Catherine looked doubtful but turned back to Elizabeth. “Have you any questions? If not, I shall bring Anne in.”
Elizabeth felt a little pulse of trepidation; strange because was that not why she was here? To be a friend to the lady? Why quail at a mere introduction? “That would please me above all things.”
Minutes later—long minutes later—Miss Anne de Bourgh entered the drawing room, followed closely by an older woman, grey-haired and bent, her countenance looking unaccountably alarmed as her eyes darted about the room. Elizabeth hoped the lady’s demeanour was not a window into her own future.