Chapter 24 At Vauxhall
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
AT VAUXHALL
Once Anne had decided on Lord Rawlings, the rest was easy.
The man himself was summoned to Rosings House the next day.
Lord Matlock, Lady Matlock, Lady Catherine, Lord Saye, and Elizabeth were assembled to watch Anne explain his good fortune to him.
To his credit, he was well prepared to play the lover and came with yellow roses in hand.
Then they had a small celebration of the news, just the family so Miss Darcy could be present. As it was, Miss Darcy was friends with Rawlings’s sister, Lady Elaine, and the pair of them played duets while the others ate a sponge cake and toasted the newly engaged couple.
The next day was spent in a flurry of arrangements for the wedding: the ceremony itself at St George’s, followed by a breakfast at Rosings House.
To her shock, Anne asked Elizabeth to stand up with her.
To Elizabeth’s further shock, Anne wished to marry within the fortnight.
Lord Rawlings agreed readily, and set about his own arrangements which were the settlement articles and procuring a special licence.
Lady Catherine felt, for the union of two noble lines, nothing else would do.
“Reading the banns,” she announced over dinner the next day, “is for commoners.”
It seemed that all was set, including the sum given to Elizabeth.
His lordship called on her one afternoon, asking her to sit with him in the library; therein he informed her that he had seen her uncle.
“A very fine man,” he said gravely. “I am sure I should have thought him a man of fashion, were I to see him on the street. And excessively clever with his business.”
Elizabeth smiled and nodded. “Thank you, my lord. I am excessively fond of Mr Gardiner as well.”
“In any case, he has been of use to me with this.” Lord Matlock handed a small leather-bound book to Elizabeth. “You may open that.”
She opened it and gasped. Five thousand pounds, in her name. For a moment, she believed she might faint, and beads of sweat broke out by her hair. She inhaled deeply and then exhaled, trying to control what noise she made.
Lord Matlock leant forwards. “You are well, my dear?”
“Reasonably so,” she told him with a laugh. “Only I never imagined half such a sum being attached to my name.”
“My sister does not bandy about promises unless she intends to keep them,” Lord Matlock assured her.
“My astonishment is not due to a lack of faith in her ladyship,” said Elizabeth with a smile. “Only a disbelief in my own good fortune.”
With that, Elizabeth was given a further rarity: a smile from Lord Matlock. With such approbation flowing round her, and the dizzying delight of the leather notebook, she found herself saying,
“I wonder, my lord, now that Anne has had her success, if perhaps the breach of promise suit against Mr Darcy might be dropped? After all, is not such a suit depending on the notion that the lady might not find a husband?”
“It is.” Lord Matlock frowned. “Do you know Mr Darcy?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I presumed that Lady Catherine was in earnest when she admonished me not to consent to an introduction to him and so I have not. But I do know Miss Darcy, and the gossip is…distressing to her.”
“Georgiana ought to be distressed on behalf of her dear cousin Anne.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, and I daresay she would be had not Anne emerged so victorious. She will be a countess now, and Lord Rawlings seems very fond of her as well. She would have done herself a disservice had she consented to a husband whose only provocation was an old family promise.”
As soon as she said it, she was embarrassed. Who was she to run on with her opinions to such an elevated man as Lord Matlock! She blushed deeply and apologised to him. He was pensive and did not appear to hear her.
“Come,” said he. “Let us go and see if we can gain my sister’s agreement in this.”
They found Lady Catherine reading in the parlour. She looked up at the intrusion of Elizabeth and Lord Matlock; Elizabeth at once went to her side, sitting on the little footstool in front of her and giving her deeply-felt thanks for what she had done for her.
Lady Catherine smiled and even—Elizabeth believed—turned slightly pink.
“Well, what did you imagine I would do?” she asked in a tone that lacked the thorniness her words suggested.
“I assure you, Miss Bennet, you might say many things of me, but one of them will not be that I am not faithful to my word!”
“I assure you, madam,” said Elizabeth with a smile, “that I shall never have anything to say of you but that you are the very best, most generous of women.”
“Ah, well,” Lady Catherine waved her hand about.
“And in that vein, Elizabeth and I have come here with a supplication,” said his lordship. “On behalf of the family reputation and the aforementioned generosity.”
Lady Catherine’s brow knit together suspiciously.
“Perhaps we might cancel this lawsuit with Darcy,” he suggested gently.
“Darcy,” she began ominously, “does not deserve—”
“Perhaps he does not,” said Elizabeth quickly. “But I daresay Anne deserves to begin her time as the Countess of Rawlings without tattle about jilting trailing behind her? Would it not be best forgot?”
Lord Matlock, seeing her strategy, hastened to add, “Anne is so very happy now, Catherine. She is wholly altered from what she was even three months ago. She laughs; she smiles… I for one cannot help but think all is as it should have been.”
“She will be higher than she would have been as Mrs Darcy,” said Elizabeth. “I daresay she will become a leading hostess in London, should she choose it.”
This, Elizabeth knew, was dear to Lady Catherine’s heart, that Anne might be one of the celebrated hostesses of London. The older lady smiled. “One does generally need a title to really be considered influential.”
“Naturally,” Elizabeth said.
“I will call for the solicitor,” said Lord Matlock. “We will see what we can do to get this business cleared up.”
Lord Rawlings engaged a box for dinner at Vauxhall two evenings following, and he invited Anne and Elizabeth to join him in it.
Lady Catherine did not feel able to accompany them but trusted that Mrs Jenkinson, along with his lordship, would provide adequate escort for the two young ladies.
Lord Saye would also attend, but with Anne now officially engaged, he felt his duty to the whole of the matter had been relieved.
“I do mean to be there,” he told them the day before the engagement.
“Only I want to devote every moment to my own delights.”
“Of course,” said the colonel. “Well-deserved too after a long, hard day of others tending to your delights.”
Lord Rawlings arrived to convey the ladies to his box, and it was immediately apparent he meant to be a doting suitor. Anne was soon blushing and smiling and wholly insensible to everyone else in the carriage. Elizabeth could only smile at it indulgently.
Elizabeth had high expectations of the gardens, and from the beginning, it seemed the gardens had every means of fulfilling them.
They crossed the Thames in a boat to get there, which was charming and provided a view of brilliantly lit Chinese-style pavilions, orchestras, statues, and illuminated walks.
Elizabeth inhaled sharply as she beheld it, already enraptured.
The whole of the place shimmered with the glow of thousands of lanterns, and the music floating through the air added to the sense of wonder.
It came as no surprise that Vauxhall had a reputation as the place for lovers to meet clandestinely; there were a multitude of winding paths beneath the trees, and the lanterns, while in plenitude, were more softly radiant than truly illuminating.
They arrived at the gardens just around eight and walked about a bit.
Elizabeth scarcely knew where to look first, for both the place and the people were equally intriguing.
Just before nine, they made their way towards the supper boxes; it was some disappointment to Elizabeth who would have gladly forgone whatever fare would be served for more time spent roaming about the place. Nevertheless she went obligingly.
Most of what was around them seemed to be lost on Anne and Lord Rawlings. They seemed to wish to take advantage of the crowded walks to nestle one another, in an increasingly discomfiting manner. Elizabeth soon learnt to not look when Anne giggled. Mrs Jenkinson, she observed, soon did the same.
Elizabeth had heard that there was a waterfall, man-made, which would be revealed at ten o’clock, and she was, frankly, quite mad to see it.
As they seated themselves in the supper box, she said, “I do hope we will be able to see the Cascade. I hear it is absolutely the most wondrous of all these wonders.”
“Oh, it is, it surely is,” agreed Lord Rawlings. “My dear, have you seen it before?” The last was directed at Anne.
“No,” she said and then whispered something which made Lord Rawlings tease her about being naughty; and soon the pair were again insensible to all else, whispering presumably sweet nothings into one another’s ears.
Elizabeth sighed and looked at Mrs Jenkinson who rarely said anything and certainly did not seem inclined to do so now.
It was a frustrating interlude spent in the supper box. The food was tasteless and stingy, and in any case, Elizabeth was not hungry. She wished for nothing more than to explore the gardens and see the sights. Instead she sat trapped in a box with a couple who hardly knew she was there.
“Do you know the time?” she enquired when the last waiter came to clear away their plates.
“Nearly ten, miss,” said the boy, then scurried off.
Elizabeth reached over and touched Anne’s hand. Anne pulled her attention away from her suitor, but begrudgingly.
“Perhaps we ought to go down to where they unveil the Cascade,” she said hopefully. “I hear it is only in view for a short time, less than a quarter of an hour.”
“Oh yes,” said Anne. “We will go soon.” And then she went back into the near-embrace of her lover.
Elizabeth tried once again, some minutes later, but the effort proved futile.
I am going to be forced to sit here watching them make love to one another and miss all of it.
A sense of frustration made her hot and prickly as she glanced over at the pair.
Lord Rawlings had used the brim of his hat and the side of Anne’s bonnet to create a sort of concealment for them; Elizabeth had no doubt that they were kissing.
She was happy for Anne, truly she was, but she simply could not bear to waste this opportunity.
“I am going to go down to see the Cascade,” she murmured to Mrs Jenkinson.
Mrs Jenkinson’s eyes went wide. “Alone?”
“No,” Elizabeth replied, already sliding out of her seat. “With everyone else. See them down there? They are all moving the same way. I will join them for a bit and then come right back.”
Mrs Jenkinson’s head swivelled towards Anne. “But…Miss de Bourgh—”
“Is otherwise engaged,” said Elizabeth firmly.
“Pray Mrs Jenkinson, you must remain here and chaperon them. It is what Lady Catherine would wish, to be certain. I will be more than able to fend for myself for a quarter of an hour or so. If I am not returned by half-ten, then you may be alarmed, but for now, let us hope for the best. I daresay we will not be disappointed.”
Not waiting to hear the older lady’s reply, she slipped out of the box and made her way into the crowd which awaited the appearance of the Cascade. It would appear at the conclusion of the first act of the concert, given by an orchestra which Elizabeth felt must surely rival any in the world.
She pressed herself into the edges of a group of young ladies and gentlemen so that she might have the appearance of being a part of their party.
Her heart quickened when she heard the bell rung, realising she had arrived just in time.
A dark curtain was drawn up over the scene which showed a charmingly illuminated landscape: a bridge, a water-mill, and a cascade made to spurt with water while the sound of roaring water was somehow imitated.
Coaches, wagons, and other figures crossed the bridge with regularity.
Elizabeth laughed aloud seeing the spectacle and joined with the others around her clapping their approval.
How glad I am not to have missed this! If she saw no more for the rest of the evening, she was wholly satisfied. This alone was well worth it.
Others pressed forwards, seemingly intent on getting closer, perhaps to comprehend the mechanics of it all, but Elizabeth realised she ought to return to her party.
She moved with haste, her smaller stature allowing her to dart easily through the crowd to go back to the box.
Nevertheless, it must have been later than she had imagined, for her party was gone.