Chapter 17
Elizabeth strolled through the springtime parkland, humming a song to herself and collecting occasional wildflowers into a bunch she intended to present to Charlotte Collins for her parlour.
Hunsford Rectory was her eventual destination this afternoon, and she was only too glad that Lady Catherine de Bourgh had not seen fit to include her in the outing to call on Lady Poynton.
In fact, Elizabeth’s blood had been close to boiling since that ill-mannered interview in Lady Catherine’s sitting room after luncheon.
She had put on outdoor clothing and stormed straight into the park afterwards, needing at least an hour of fresh air and exercise before her wrath began to subside in appreciation of her green and pleasant surroundings.
Overall, Elizabeth had actually enjoyed her weeks at Rosings so far and found herself glad that she had not given notice in London.
Now knowing some of the cause for Georgiana’s shrinking reticence and Mr Darcy’s over-protective instincts towards his younger sister, Elizabeth understood and liked them both better.
She was also warier of her own impulsive judgements, so mistaken in the case of Mr Wickham and Mr Darcy.
The once-dreaded journey to Rosings from Darcy House had been a merry one in the end, with riddles and games in the carriage and a picnic luncheon taken in a field after the driver took a wrong turning.
Just in case of such an eventuality, Mrs Stark had packed a hamper sufficient for two whole days rather than only a long morning. Elizabeth smiled at the memory.
Even Mr Darcy had joined in a little with the journey’s good-humoured and playful conversation.
Then, when they arrived at Rosings, Colonel Fitzwilliam turned out to be just as fine and congenial a man as Miss Darcy had promised.
He had swiftly gained Elizabeth’s liking and respect, both on his own account and for his fair and thoughtful treatment of others.
Mr Darcy’s clear regard for his officer cousin raised his own stock higher in Elizabeth’s estimation, as did his willingness to stand up to his overbearing aunt where few others would dare.
His other cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh, was so vanishingly inoffensive that it would have been easy to miss her entirely if it had not been for Mrs Jenkinson’s constant fussing.
Seeing Charlotte again had lifted Elizabeth’s heart further when Mr and Mrs Collins were summoned to tea at Rosings.
“Invitations” to Rosings were misnomers, in Elizabeth’s view, when recipients dared not refuse them.
The neat little establishment at Hunsford Rectory had pleased and amused Elizabeth greatly when she called there the following day.
Only Lady Catherine cast any real shadow over the stay in Kent.
From existing accounts, Elizabeth could never have expected that formidable lady to be entirely easy or pleasant.
In reality, Lady Catherine was every bit as domineering, opinionated, and arrogant as imagined.
On top of this, as the weeks passed, she also seemed to develop a needling interest in Elizabeth that was both unwanted and increasingly uncomfortable.
“Tell me, Miss Bennet, what qualifications do you possess to be my niece’s companion?”
This had been one of Lady Catherine’s very first questions to Elizabeth after their arrival, stunning the young woman with its directness of tone and its casual discourtesy.
“Miss Bennet has the full approval and confidence of Fitzwilliam Darcy, and Georgiana Darcy too, I believe,” Colonel Fitzwilliam had put in affably on that occasion, coming to Elizabeth’s assistance and seating himself between his senior relative and the sofa that held Georgiana Darcy and her companion.
“That seems adequate qualification to me.”
Miss Darcy nodded vigorously in agreement with her second guardian, largely keeping her silence while her brother was not in the room. Mr Darcy had not yet come downstairs after unpacking from the journey.
“That is not at all what I meant, Richard,” Lady Catherine had dismissed him and then picked up her questioning again. “Do you sing, Miss Bennet? Or play the pianoforte? Can you speak French? How is your drawing?”
“All but the last, I do adequately but not well, Lady Catherine,” Elizabeth answered truthfully. “As for drawing, I have no head for art and have never learned. Miss Darcy’s skill in sketching far outstrips anything I possess.”
“Adequate,” repeated Lady Catherine with a rather acid tone and an upward flicker of one eyebrow as she glanced critically at both Elizabeth and Colonel Fitzwilliam before turning her full gaze on her niece.
“That is not a pleasing word. I am surprised at Fitzwilliam, I must say, Georgiana. He took great trouble finding Mrs Annesley, such a proper and accomplished lady. Yet now, he settles for adequate.”
“Miss Bennet actually plays well on the pianoforte,” Georgiana spoke up loyally, although blushing with the effort. “We play duets together.”
“I should very much like to hear one of your duets,” Colonel Fitzwilliam offered, his blue-green eyes twinkling at the two young women. “It feels an age since I have heard good music.”
Lady Catherine, however, was not listening, being of the type that welcomes the sound of no voice but their own.
“Adequate,” she repeated again with great disdain. “Well, I can only advise you to practice, Miss Bennet. A companion cannot be too accomplished, nor a governess, if that is what you intend in the future. Adequate is not enough.”
“Yes, I have met some very accomplished governesses,” Elizabeth had responded with tactful neutrality, glad that this anodyne remark seemed to be accepted without further comment and even more glad when Mr Darcy came into the drawing room and Lady Catherine’s attention was finally diverted away from her.
This pattern of attack was repeated in many small ways over the following days and weeks, much to Elizabeth’s chagrin.
Her learning, deportment, musical ability, and dress all came in for their share of Lady Catherine’s consideration and fault-finding.
Still, Elizabeth was heartened by the defences of both Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, and even Miss Darcy, as far as the girl dared.
In particular, Elizabeth drew confidence from Mr Darcy’s insistence that she was seated on equal terms with the family at mealtimes.
As this often meant sitting beside the personable Colonel Fitzwilliam, she was glad of the intervention on two counts.
The colonel was utterly different to his two Darcy cousins.
By no means handsome, but still pleasing of feature, he was an easy and straightforward companion.
In contrast to her employer and his cousin, Elizabeth received little defence from her own cousin, Mr Collins, on the occasions that he witnessed Lady Catherine’s casting doubts on Elizabeth’s fitness to be Georgiana Darcy’s companion.
“You must not judge Lady Catherine by the standards of your own circle in Hertfordshire, my dear young cousin,” he had told Elizabeth in a low whisper as she had walked the Collinses out to the coach one afternoon after tea, during which event their hostess had landed some egregiously critical remarks about Elizabeth’s lack of formal schooling.
“Should I not?” Elizabeth had murmured, holding her tongue for Charlotte’s sake, as her friend cast a sympathetic glance in her direction.
By the standards of the circles of Hertfordshire society in which the Bennet family moved, Lady Catherine was a rude, inconsiderate and interfering woman. If Elizabeth judged her, it was largely to think that money and rank were no guarantee of good manners and human understanding.
“Indeed no, Lady Catherine intends only to improve your future prospects as companion or governess,” Mr Collins had assured Elizabeth.
“I am personally very flattered by Lady Catherine’s notice of you in this regard, and trust that you will show equal gratitude.
As a patroness, Lady Catherine has no equal, I am sure.
Her little attentions may well assist you in the future. ”
“I see,” answered Elizabeth shortly, glad that she had reached the front door and could bid farewell for the day before her patience ran out with her foolish cousin.
Today, this very afternoon, Elizabeth’s patience had been tested almost to breaking point by Lady Catherine herself when she had been summoned to her hostess’s private sitting room after luncheon.
She still could not quite believe that Lady Catherine had effectively accused her of using her post as Miss Darcy’s companion to inveigle herself into Darcy’s affections.
If Mr Darcy had not interrupted, Elizabeth might not have refrained from giving Lady Catherine a piece of her mind.
On reflection, it was hard to say whether what Lady Catherine implied was more insulting to Elizabeth or to Mr Darcy.
It was terrible to be accused of attempted seduction, but just as insulting to imply that a man would fall so weakly and unresistingly for a woman’s wiles.
Whatever faults he had, and Elizabeth supposed they were legion despite their current truce, she did not think Mr Darcy was a man ever to be easily seduced into marriage.
Likely he would marry mainly for name and rank in the end, already having enough money.
He certainly would not fall in love with anyone for so slight an incentive as a pretty face and a few idle compliments.
In such a case, perhaps Lady Catherine’s hinted aspirations for a match between Darcy and Anne were not so ill-founded as Elizabeth had first thought, despite the lack of personal interest between the cousins.
If that was her aim, Lady Catherine would likely not cease to push her cause until Darcy either acceded or refused outright.