Chapter 23
Dining Room
Rosings
Two Days Later
Mr. Collins had not exaggerated the magnificent opulence of Rosings or its mistress.
Lady Catherine's love of formality and pride in her wealth was evident in every line of her home.
Anything that could be gilded was, and mahogany and ebony and expensive teak were very much in evidence.
The floors that were not of ornate parquet were of expensive marble, and the walls were papered with exotic and lavish designs.
Lady Catherine and her daughter were equally magnificent, in attire if not in their persons.
Silks rustled with every move Lady Catherine made, while great rubies and diamonds glimmered in the profusion of gold lace at her décolletage and flashed like lightning where they dangled from her ears.
She had even donned a tiara, as though she were attending or hosting a ball rather than having a quiet dinner with no more distinguished guests than her parson and his family.
Miss de Bourgh, if less ostentatiously glittery, was no less expensively dressed.
One shawl of the purest white lambs' wool peeked from another of a deep crimson velvet that did the sallow Miss de Bourgh little favor.
Her dress of watered silk hung loosely from her shoulders as though she had lost weight since it had been fitted.
Having been warned beforehand by both Mr. Collins and Mary, Elizabeth was not surprised to see her hostess extravagantly dressed.
Nor was she startled by the profusion of dishes resting on the great mahogany table, its leaves scarcely providing enough room to contain the bounty across its surface.
Further down the table, Mrs. Jenkinson was, with indifferent success, plying her young charge with a bit of bread pudding, or a bite of syllabub, or just a taste of a buttered roll.
Elizabeth herself was partaking of heartier fare.
The beef was truly excellent, and there was lamb cooked in some sort of cream sauce that was extraordinarily tasty.
The bread was hot and crusty and shining with butter, the vegetables were heaped like pyramids, and the gravy boats steamed aromatically.
The plates of all the diners, save Miss de Bourgh, were as full as they could be, yet Elizabeth did not see how they could do justice to the spread.
She was grateful that Lady Catherine was, at least, not in the habit of serving multiple courses.
That would simply have been too much to manage.
“It was very foolish of your mother to birth only daughters, Miss Bennet,” Lady Catherine announced suddenly. “If I had borne children after Anne, they would all have been sons.”
Elizabeth’s eyes met Mary’s, which were dancing with amusement, and she lifted her wine glass to her mouth while she recovered from this asinine comment.
“Everything has worked out well enough,” Elizabeth said a moment, placing her glass carefully back on the table. “William will be a wonderful master of Longbourn.”
Lady Catherine turned toward Mr. Collins, who was seated at the foot of the table, and said, “I hope you will do well when the time comes. It is a rather difficult thing to become master of an estate without any experience, and I understand that your father was not so blessed.”
“He was not,” Mr. Collins agreed. “I am trying to read about such matters as harvesting and plowing and fertilizing, and the difference between closed and open …”
“Oh, books!” Lady Catherine interrupted, lifting her chin. “I enjoy books, indubitably, but to trust a book over someone like myself, who has vast experience, is quite absurd.”
Elizabeth, watching William, was impressed when the man’s countenance maintained its solemnity.
“Oh, I assure you, Madame, that I have listened carefully to every word you have ever said regarding Rosings. Longbourn, naturally, is far smaller than Rosings, but I hope that I will be able to apply some of the lessons I have learned here when the time comes.”
He turned toward his wife and said, “Not, of course, that there is an immediate prospect of my inheriting. If God so wills, your father will live a long and healthy life.”
“Indeed,” Mary said, carefully cutting a slice of meat. “This is such excellent beef, Lady Catherine. Your cook is truly gifted.”
“It could not be otherwise! I would never permit less than the very best food to grace the tables at Rosings. We have two French cooks, you know.”
“I did not before this,” Mary said humbly, “but I am not surprised.”
“Now,” Lady Catherine continued, “what are you doing about the guest bedchamber at the parsonage? As I told you last week, there is wasted space there, and you ought to add a shelf as soon as possible. Have you done so?”
This was directed at Mr. Collins, who said meekly, “No, not yet. Elizabeth is staying in that room, of course, and we thought it would be needlessly disruptive. After she leaves, we will add the shelf.”
“Very good,” the lady replied with a gracious nod. “Now, Mr. Collins, I have been thinking about your garden and what you ought to grow …”
The lady continued to drone on at length, and Elizabeth continued to enjoy her truly excellent meal. Lady Catherine was as annoying as Mary had warned, but Elizabeth appreciated how well the Collinses handled their patroness’s frequent idiocies.
She had been a little surprised when William had chosen Mary as a bride, but now that she had met Catherine de Bourgh in the flesh, it was easy to understand.
Jane, who always wished to think the best of people, would have not been able to maintain the cynicism required to manage the lady.
Elizabeth, on the other hand, would have been so frustrated by the older woman’s stupidity that she would have been quite unable to bite her tongue for long.
Mary was the perfect Mrs. Collins. She was kind, and hard-working, and sensible, while also being sufficiently clear-eyed to understand that open rebellion would be disastrous, whereas subtle pressure would be beneficial.
Yes, it was a perfect marriage, as perfect as that of Jane and Mr. Bingley.
“Miss Bennet,” Lady Catherine said, “do you play an instrument?”
“Yes, Madame. I play the pianoforte.”
“Oh, we must have you perform for us soon. I think you will find our instrument to be a superior one. And given that the Collinses do not have a pianoforte of their own, I suggest that you come and practice in the housekeeper’s room whenever you like.
You will be in no one’s way in that part of the house, and it is vital that you continue to practice or you will lose your skill.
Indeed, I often tell my niece, Miss Darcy… ”
Elizabeth took a bite of the potatoes and chewed slowly. The food was genuinely wonderful, but listening to Lady Catherine removed much of the pleasure. She thought that the Collinses earned every penny of the Hunsford living.
***
Rosings
The Next Morning
Anne de Bourgh clucked softly, and her two black ponies surged into motion. She leaned back against the squabs, the reins held tightly in her gloved hands.
The ponies, which were quite used to their accustomed route, pulled the phaeton around a curve which hid Anne from the line of sight of any of the windows of Rosings. Her body relaxed, and Mrs. Jenkinson, who was seated beside her, said, “Lady Catherine is meeting with the steward right now.”
Anne turned a grateful look on her companion who had, in the last years, proven a faithful and kind companion. “I had forgotten that.”
“It will probably be a long meeting,” Mrs. Jenkinson continued. “Her meetings usually are.”
Anne grinned and said, “Poor Mr. Jamison.”
“Indeed,” Mrs. Jenkinson said drily, “but at least there is little chance that your mother will find out that you are having tea at the parsonage.”
Anne nodded with satisfaction and turned her attention back to the ponies. They would take her to the parsonage without any fuss but were used to continuing on along the loop that took her through the south part of the estate.
A minute later, she pulled the beasts to a halt, and one of the footmen hanging on behind the carriage jumped off, ran forward, and accepted the reins.
“Mr. Collins’s man will help you in the stable,” she said to the man as the other footman helped her down.
“Yes, Miss,” the men chorused, and she thought that there was pleasure in their dark eyes.
It must be a dull business to be perched up behind Anne during her usual drives, but her mother insisted on two footmen always accompanying her in case of some kind of accident.
It would be a gratifying interlude for both men to spend some time with Mr. Collins’s servants.
The front door opened at this juncture, and Mr. Collins hurried out of doors with Mrs. Collins at his heels.
Greetings were exchanged, and Mrs. Collins guided the ladies to the front door of the snug parsonage, while Mr. Collins directed the footmen, ponies, and phaeton to the small stable next to the parsonage.
Anne handed over her outerwear to the tidy maid and then looked around with pleasure.
Until Mr. Collins’s arrival in the area, Anne had never been in the parsonage, which was rather absurd given that she had lived her whole life less than a mile from it.
But then again, Lady Catherine liked for the distinction of rank to be observed and did not wish for her daughter to become a close friend with a mere clergyman and his wife.
“This way, please, Miss de Bourgh,” Mrs. Collins said courteously. Anne followed her hostess down a corridor and into the sitting room that faced out on the garden, which was at this time of year not particularly prepossessing.
The room itself, however, was delightful.
Rosings was a cold house. Not physically, of course, since Lady Catherine insisted that every fireplace be well stocked, but there was no charm, no simplicity, no coziness.
All was heavy furniture and ornate paintings and ostentation.
The sitting room at the parsonage was small, neat, and filled with simple, comfortable furniture.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet was waiting and rose to her feet upon her entrance.
“Miss de Bourgh, Mrs. Jenkinson, good morning.”
“Good morning, Miss Bennet. I am glad that we have this opportunity to get to know one another better.”
Miss Bennet, who was very handsome, smiled and said, “I am looking forward to that too.”
“Sit down, please,” Mrs. Collins directed, and her three guests obeyed.
“We will have tea in just a few minutes,” Mrs. Collins remarked, sitting down next to her sister.
“That sounds lovely,” Anne said, turning to look out the window where Mr. Collins was striding toward the far corner of the fenced garden. “What is Mr. Collins planting today?”
“Vegetable marrows, I believe,” Mrs. Collins said, just as the door opened and a maid entered with a tea tray and its accouterments, which she placed on a small table before retreating out of the door.
“Miss de Bourgh,” Miss Bennet said as her sister began pouring tea, “the grounds of Rosings are lovely.”
Anne turned a thoughtful look on Miss Bennet. It was, of course, a blandly courteous thing to say, but Mrs. Collins had mentioned that her next older sister was very fond of walking, and Anne thought there was genuine enthusiasm on Miss Bennet’s countenance.
“Yes, it is beautiful,” she said and sighed. “I fear that my health has been uncertain for as long as I can remember, and the only parts of the estate that I have seen regularly are next to the roads. Oh, thank you, Mrs. Collins.”
She accepted the tea and took a sip, which was hot and sweet, exactly as she liked it.
“I wonder,” Miss Bennet said carefully, “whether you might be able to tolerate a short walk on occasion? Yesterday I saw a pleasant bench underneath a shady tree near the rose garden…”
She trailed off as Mrs. Jenkinson shook her head and said, “Lady Catherine will not permit that. She believes Miss de Bourgh to be too fragile to do anything at all save to sit quietly in a phaeton.”
“She does,” Anne said mournfully, “and while I wish I was not so poor-hearted, I do not have sufficient courage or strength to stand up against my mother.”
It was peculiar for her to be so open with anyone, especially a newly met acquaintance, but she liked and admired Mrs. Collins very much, and that lady had spoken openly of Miss Bennet’s cheer and good sense.
“I do not pretend to know your mother well,” Miss Bennet said, “but based on my limited knowledge of her character, any dissension on your part would cause a pitched battle, and no one wants that. Still, I wonder if we might be able to arrange for you to enjoy a little exercise without her ever knowing.”
Anne looked into the lady’s twinkling eyes and said, “I would like that.”