29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Twenty-Nine
March 1812 Hunsford, Kent Elizabeth
A fter an invigorating walk in the woods around the parsonage and Rosings Park, Elizabeth joined her sister- and brother-in-law for breakfast. The repast was very like what Longbourn served, and likely a little too elaborate for the Collins' means. But, since the master of the house made no objections, Elizabeth was determined to think on the matter no more.
“Did you go out this morning, Lizzy?” Lydia asked politely. “When I first saw the lands around my new home, I knew instantly that you would love them. Of course, I had no notion that I would extend an invitation to you then. I only thought how very fortunate it was for me that you chose not to marry dear Mr. Collins.”
The pair shared a fond glance, and Elizabeth marveled again at how very handsome they were. Appearances truly are not everything, she mused, as she often had in the past months. Beauty is a weapon not to be underestimated. She felt happy that Lydia seemed more than content with her situation. Fifteen really was too young, in Elizabeth’s opinion, to be married, but who was she to deny that by every observation her sister was happy?
“I am keen for you to meet Lady Catherine, Cousin Elizabeth,” Mr. Collins said. The morning light came through the window behind him, making his hair glow gold. He had quite an angelic look, and she wondered if there was a window behind his pulpit that offered the same effect.
“She has expressed quite an interest in you,” he continued, unaware of his audience’s distraction. “Why, from the moment she learned of my connection with Longbourn, she showed an extraordinary fascination with Mr. Bennet and all his daughters. Quite the condescension, you must admit.”
“Yes, I cannot imagine why such a grand lady would give so much attention to people she has never met.” She said it sardonically, much as her father would have had he been here, but her meaning was lost on the two silly people sitting with her at the table.
“You are correct to be so amazed, for Lady Catherine is the daughter of an earl. It is beneath her to extend her notice to lesser beings. I flatter myself that I have gained her approbation and condescension, despite my humble beginnings. And my dear bride, too, has been the recipient of her attention.”
Lydia giggled. “Yes, Lady Catherine visited me just two days after we came to Kent. She had ever so many suggestions for improvement. And of course I must take heed, for she is descended from a noble line and knows better than me.”
Elizabeth blinked in surprise. Lydia sounded very like her husband. Were they already rubbing off on each other? Shrugging mentally, she continued to eat her breakfast without comment.
After the meal, Lydia implored Elizabeth to help her with her duties. “It will go by much faster if I have your company,” she said beseechingly. “Though I do not dislike my responsibilities, they are repetitive.”
“Yes, you are forever seeking new diversions, dear Lydia,” Elizabeth said amusedly. “That has been your manner since you were a small child.”
Lydia pretended to pout and then giggled. “I cannot help myself. I suppose you might say I am easily bored.”
“I would never say such a thing to my hostess,” Elizabeth said, winking. “Come now, let us be off with these baskets. Then perhaps you can help me remake one of my bonnets. The flowers were crushed on the journey, and it cannot be salvaged.”
Lydia squealed excitedly and grabbed one of the baskets they needed to deliver.
Later, as Elizabeth readied herself for her first visit to Rosings Park, she carefully selected a gown that she felt would be appropriately elegant for supper at a great house, yet modest and plain enough so as not to offend. She did not believe that her cousin’s views of the great lady were accurate, but she wished to be prepared for the eventuality that Mr. Collins spoke accurately.
The evening cooled as they walked down the lane toward the manor. Rosings Park loomed ahead, an elaborate edifice from a bygone era of architectural splendor. There were more windows than she could count. The taxes must be obscene, she thought humorously. Longbourn had bricked over several windows when the tax came to be. Elizabeth preferred natural light to candles or lamps and looked forward to what Lady Catherine’s home would look like with nature’s illumination streaming through the windows.
“Do not be nervous, Cousin Elizabeth,” Mr. Collins said, misinterpreting her silence for an overabundance of awe. “Though Rosings Park is likely the most fashionable and expensive place that you have ever seen or been, you will not feel out of place. Her ladyship’s condescension knows no bounds, and she will be as polite to you as she has been to me.”
Elizabeth smothered a grin. Her uncle’s homes had more than prepared her for the refined tastes of the upper echelons of society. If the outward appearance of Rosings Park with its gothic splendor were reminiscent of the interior, then she would infinitely prefer Elm Grove or the house in town. Overdone décor for the sake of prestige appealed but little to her. She preferred timeless elegance.
The heavy doors swung open, and they stepped into a marble entryway. The space inside surprised her. Though the woodwork was stained dark, there were bright floral tapestries and mirrors on the walls to lighten the area. The drapes were tied back and the evening light streamed in.
“Lady Catherine is waiting,” the austere-looking butler said, turning and leading the way down the hall. He stopped before a pair of doors and opened them.
“The Hunsford Party, ma’am,” he said solemnly.
They stepped inside, and the butler closed the doors behind them.
There were three people in the room. Two sat on a settee, the other in a stately chair. It was in the latter direction her cousin went.
Mr. Collins walked forward, with Lydia close behind. He bowed ridiculously low to the woman in the chair, beckoning to his wife and cousin to follow suit. Elizabeth curtseyed enough to be polite and then straightened before the others.
Whilst they were bowing, she took time to examine the woman before her. Lady Catherine de Bourgh was nothing like she expected. Given her cousin’s descriptions, Elizabeth expected to find a superior lady with a perpetual look of displeasure on her face. Instead, she found the lady to be somewhat handsome in her old age, with laughter in her eyes and a small smile on her lips. Her gown was elegant but not overly embellished, and she wore but one small necklace around her neck. The way she regarded Mr. and Mrs. Collins was somewhat imperious. Elizabeth did not doubt Lady Catherine possessed a commanding streak—had she not already demonstrated it by ordering Lydia to extend an invitation?
“So, you are Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” she said when Mr. Collins and Lydia straightened at last. “Sit here next to me. I wish to have a better look at you. No, Mr. Collins, you and your wife will converse with Anne. She has marriage details she wishes to discuss.”
Elizabeth glanced at the other two ladies sitting on the settee.
“This is my daughter, Miss Anne de Bourgh. Soon to be Mrs. Metcalfe. And her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson.” The younger lady looked to be of an age with Elizabeth. Her cheerful demeanor spoke of happiness and a life of contentment. The elder lady wore widow’s weeds and had sadness in her eyes.
The ladies nodded as they were introduced before turning to Mr. Collins. Their conversation quickly began, and Elizabeth turned away to find Lady Catherine watching her.
“You look very much like your mother,” she said softly, a wistful tone in her voice.
Startled, she gave the lady her full focus. “I thank you, madam, though my sister Mary resembles her more. I was not aware you knew my mother.”
“Olivia was my only friend. She saw through my prickly exterior to the needs I hid from everyone. It nearly destroyed me when she died.” Lady Catherine sniffed and raised a handkerchief to her eye. “And then I foolishly stopped writing to your father after my husband died. I have been a dreadful godmother.”
“Godmother?” Elizabeth repeated stupidly. “Whose godmother?”
“Yours, you silly girl. Did your father never tell you?” Lady Catherine tut-tutted and shook her head. “How very like Thomas. Yes, I am your godmother. Your grandmother Mavery was the other, but she died some time ago, did she not?”
“Y-yes,” Elizabeth stuttered. “I did not know…” she trailed off, uncertain what else to say.
“Well, now that you are here, we can rectify this whole mess. You and Anne were to be the best of friends. Your mother and I were determined. There is still time, and I hope to see that wish fulfilled. Now, tell me everything. You were in London, I understand. Is your uncle seeing to your future?”
Elizabeth and Lady Catherine spoke in hushed tones while Mr. Collins made wedding arrangements with Miss de Bourgh. By the end of the conversation, she quite thought she had made a new friend and found a kindred spirit in Lady Catherine. Though somewhat imperious, the lady obviously had a kind heart. Once again, outward appearances were not everything.
Her cousin made some ridiculous remark and Elizabeth snorted inelegantly. When she turned to her hostess in apology, Lady Catherine, too, smirked.
“You may wonder why a person of sense and intelligence would hire such a bumbling man,” the lady said. “I will tell you why, and you must promise never to tell your cousin, lest he prevail upon me more than he already does.”
“You have my word, ma’am,” Elizabeth vowed. “I will admit to some curiosity. I cannot imagine why anyone would bestow a valuable family living upon my strange relation. Though I am grateful on Lydia’s behalf.”
Lady Catherine sighed. “His letter, though overly verbose and complimentary, was eloquent and informed. I recognized the name from somewhere and sent my investigator to learn more about the man’s family. During that time, I discovered that my husband’s cousin, Miss Lobelia de Bourgh, had married a man her family did not approve of, and had been cut off from the family. Mr. Collins was her son, and therefore my cousin-by-marriage. After learning this, I felt it was my duty to extend an offer for him to fill the living. It was only after he arrived I discovered my error. Though he is a handsome man, he lacks sense. I suppose it is a blessing that there are written sermons, for I do not think he could compose one on his own.”
“And now that the living is given, it cannot be undone?” Elizabeth replied hesitantly.
“Yes. Though I would never do so if it were possible. Now, I oversee his work so that the people he presides over do not suffer.”
“Why did you send him to Longbourn for a wife?” she asked.
Lady Catherine smiled. “When I learned his connection to my friend’s former home, I was reminded of my duties as your godmother. I knew the estate was entailed. Olivia told me so herself. I did not know, however, that your father had remarried and had two more girls. ‘It would not do,’ I told myself, ‘for Olivia’s children to be cast out when their father dies.’ So, I sent Mr. Collins to Longbourn, hoping he would marry one of the Miss Bennets. Of course, I suspected you and Miss Mary would have a home, but it was the least I could do for my friend’s children—to be certain you would never be sent away from the place you were raised.”
“That is a magnanimous thing to do,” Elizabeth said. “Though, if my father predeceases my stepmother, I do not think Mr. Collins marrying my sister will make much of a difference.”
Lady Catherine opened her mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the call for dinner. They rose and went into the dining room. Elizabeth found herself seated by Lady Catherine and across from Miss de Bourgh.
Her hostess peppered Elizabeth with questions throughout the meal, slowly unravelling her cryptic words from earlier. As Lady Catherine comprehended Mrs. Bennet’s cruelty, the look in her eyes turned cold.
“What an unnatural woman,” she declared. “I cannot imagine how Mr. Bennet has allowed her to mistreat you girls for so long. Though, I am glad to know that he has tried to make amends these last months. Now, I wish to speak of happier things. Have you enjoyed your time in town?”
“Very much, your ladyship.” Elizabeth took a drink from her glass. “My aunt and uncle are most attentive, and we have been introduced to many new people.”
“Have you any prospects? You are already twenty years of age—you must marry soon.”
Elizabeth grinned. “I have met many amiable gentlemen, but none have captured my heart yet.” Mr. Darcy’s image passed through her thoughts, and her cheeks grew pink.
Lady Catherine nodded sagely. “I am very much in support of marrying for inclination and affection,” she said. “My own marriage did not start that way, but Lewis and I grew very fond of each other. I loved him before he died.” She looked wistful and sad before shaking herself from her gloomy thoughts. “I encouraged Anne to seek love before status and wealth. See how she glows with happiness?”
Elizabeth looked across the table at Miss de Bourgh, who did indeed look very happy. “She looks radiant. I am pleased she has discovered love. I promised myself years ago I would settle for nothing less.”
“As you should have. Your mother and father were very much in that state. It would make a mockery of her memory to do anything less.” Lady Catherine tapped Elizabeth’s hand with her finger as she spoke, emphasizing her words. “Now, I expect you to come for tea often whilst you are here. I have many years to make up for, and I wish to know you intimately before you depart. And I have a very great desire to introduce you to my nephews when they come. Perhaps you have met them.”
“I cannot say, your ladyship. What are their names?”
“Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam is the son of my brother, the Earl of Matlock. And Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley. Your uncle’s estate in Cheshire is not thirty miles from Pemberley’s border.”
Elizabeth nearly choked. How had she not realized there was a connection between Lady Catherine and the two cousins?
“I can see from the look on your face that you know both. Tell me, how did you find them?” Lady Catherine looked pleased. “Either will make you a worthy husband. And with your dowry, a second son could not repine.”
“I met them both, yes,” Elizabeth said finally. “The colonel is indeed an amiable man and will make some woman very happy. I think, however, that our interests are too different to form more than a friendly relationship.”
“And Darcy?” her ladyship pressed.
“Mr. Darcy is… well, he is difficult to make out.” She sighed and fiddled with the stem of her glass. “He is equal parts solicitous and confusing. I am not sure what to make of him, so different are the accounts I have heard.”
“My nephew is an honorable man,” Lady Catherine said. “I am certain you and he would do well together.”
“I find I cannot agree with you.” Elizabeth hesitated. “Really, madam, this conversation has strayed further than I should have allowed. We are but recent acquaintances.”
“I am your godmother,” the lady reminded her. “Such intimacies should have been ours to begin with. Nevertheless, I shall cease pressing you tonight.”
Elizabeth smiled gratefully and continued to eat her meal. The inquisition did not bother her, and she had eagerly shared much of her life so that she might gain a connection to this motherly figure she had been deprived of for years. Thoughts of Lady Catherine filling the void her mother left cheered her. Though her aunt had been there for so long, having another with whom to bond felt like a boon.
After the meal, Elizabeth found herself seated next to Miss de Bourgh. Mr. Collins and Lydia were speaking with Lady Catherine. By her body language, the grand lady of Rosings Park imparted her wisdom to the pair. Lydia and her husband nodded eagerly, both attentive to everything their patroness said.
“I understand you have four sisters,” Miss de Bourgh said politely, opening discourse.
“My family is somewhat complicated,” Elizabeth replied. “Lydia—Mrs. Collins—is my half-sister. Her mother is my stepmother. Lydia’s sister Catherine, whom we call Kitty, is just older than she.” Elizabeth explained the rest of her family’s composition, explaining Jane and her relationship with the rest of the Bennet sisters.
“That is very interesting,” Miss de Bourgh said. “I should have liked to have a sister, but my father died before that came to be. My mother never remarried; such was her grief.”
My father would not have remarried had he been in his right mind all those years ago, Elizabeth thought. “You have not suffered for it,” she observed aloud. “You seem very happy.”
“Oh, I am!” Miss de Bourgh beamed. “My Rupert is such a wonderful man. He is very caring and dotes on me excessively. Many thought I should aim higher. With Rosings Park as my dowry, I could have married the second son of a duke. But I wanted Rupert. Money is a cold companion, and I have more than enough for both of us. Love, affection, companionship… those are more valuable and not found nearly as often.”
“Wise words.” Elizabeth nodded in agreement. “I, too, look for love in my future marriage partner. I hope that if I had no dowry and was but a poor relation that I would maintain my standards. Though finding a man to marry would prove more difficult if I had only my charms to recommend me.”
“Yes, but a worthy man would see beyond worldly value.” Miss de Bourgh smiled.
“Unfortunately, I have found that mercenary tendencies tend to lead out with most gentlemen.” Elizabeth grimaced.
“That is unfortunate. I am happy to say that Rupert is not of their ilk. He loved me since we were children and vowed to marry me even if I did not have Rosings Park.” She smiled. “Mama holds it in trust and threatened to keep it from me to see how he would react. Rupert suggested we elope the next day.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “I hope to meet a man who sees me as more than my fortune someday.” Thoughts of Mr. Darcy crept in again, and she brushed them off. Though she thought better of him now, she did not love him. Admittedly, she knew she could lose her heart to the handsome, amiable man who had escorted her on walks in Hyde Park. But the brooding, serious being from Hertfordshire still gave her pause.
They departed half an hour later. Elizabeth felt inordinately pleased to have gained a connection to her mother through Lady Catherine and another friend in Anne de Bourgh. Her sister- and brother-in-law were ebullient in their satisfaction with how the evening had gone.
“Lady Catherine paid you a great deal of attention,” Mr. Collins remarked as they removed their outerwear at the parsonage. “I flatter myself that it displays her approval of my marriage and pleasure that I have followed her dictates so carefully.”
“It could only be that, husband,” Lydia said, kissing his cheek. “Now, I am exhausted. Let us go to bed.”
Mr. Collins chuckled and took his wife’s hand, drawing it to his mouth and kissing it.
They bid Elizabeth good night and went upstairs. She followed. Millie awaited her and quickly readied her mistress for bed.