Chapter 1
As they travelled, in what Elizabeth believed was the final hour before they reached their destination, her thoughts drifted to her broken-hearted sister in London.
Elizabeth had debated refusing to come to Hunsford in favour of going to London to be with Jane.
Her sister was suffering terrible sadness after Mr Bingley had raised her expectations and caused Jane to fall in love with him only to disappear without so much as a farewell.
All the Bennets knew was what that the jumped-up daughter of a Cit—they were proud of all of their relations in trade, but the woman’s behaviour earned her the appellation—the harpy who was Miss Bingley, wrote in that despicable letter to Jane.
The woman had claimed, and Elizabeth did not believe this for an instant, that Mr Bingley was only trifling with Jane and had returned to London to court the proud Miss Darcy.
Further, the delusional woman also claimed that she would soon be Mrs Darcy.
That last sentiment more than any other told Elizabeth that Miss Bingley was lying.
Anyone with eyes could see that Mr Darcy had no interest in Miss Bingley, and that was before Mr Wickham told her that Mr Darcy was engaged to his cousin, the heiress of Rosings Park. Mr Collins had confirmed the same.
She shook her head to expel any thoughts of the rude, arrogant, proud man.
Thinking about Mr Darcy, especially what he had done to poor Mr Wickham and, she suspected, to Jane as well, only made her angry.
Instead, Elizabeth concentrated on where they were.
After close to eight hours of travel since they departed Longbourn, and with a stop at The Belle Inn in Bromley, Elizabeth sensed that Sir William’s carriage was close to their destination.
In the distance to the left, she caught a glimpse of a mansion which she assumed was the one at Rosings Park.
It was not the grand edifice which held Elizabeth’s attention.
Rather, all the verdant trees she saw on either side of the lane they were travelling along were what held her interest. She was hopeful there would be many places for her to ramble in nature.
According to Mr Collins, during one of his pontifications about the greatest estate in all the realm, her cousin had related how Lady Catherine had her gardens regimented so that like colours were together, the plants were all the same size in the various flowerbeds, and not a blade of grass was out of place.
If there was one thing Elizabeth disliked greatly, it was overly manicured gardens.
She much preferred to be where nature had been allowed its head, just like the wilderness on one side of Longbourn’s park.
Based on Mr Collins’s ramblings about the perfection that was Lady Catherine, he had mentioned a grove not far from his house. Elizabeth hoped that it had not been ordered by the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Elizabeth knew she would have to fight to school her features when she met the lady and her daughter, Mr Darcy’s betrothed.
Thanks to her cousin’s ravings and some things Mr Wickham had told her, she was sure that Lady Catherine would be vastly amusing.
That they would meet was almost a certainty because Charlotte had written in one of her letters that Lady Catherine invited the residents of the parsonage to tea a few times a week and dinner at least twice in the same period of time.
All her thoughts were pushed to the side as the conveyance slowed and turned onto a stone-covered drive.
From her window, Elizabeth could see the parsonage; it was a grey stone building.
The church, according to Charlotte, was St Cuthbert’s, and could be seen rising above the roof of the parsonage—at least the spire with a large cross atop was visible.
She saw her cousin and Charlotte standing before the house.
The coachmen drew the pair of horses to a halt, and Sir William’s footman placed a step and opened the door.
They arrived on Monday, the sixteenth day of March, a day short of a fortnight before Easter. So long as it was bearable to reside in her cousin’s house, Elizabeth would remain for six weeks, departing on the final Friday of April.
“Welcome, Cousin Elizabeth,” William Collins, the parson of the parish of Hunsford, said in greeting while his wife, Charlotte—Miss Lucas as was—stood next to her husband. “You can see what a good situation my wife enjoys.”
“I thank you for your gracious welcome, Mr Collins.” Elizabeth gave a quick curtsy and moved to take Charlotte’s hands after seeing a light blush rise in her friend’s cheeks when her husband attempted to demonstrate to Elizabeth her error in refusing him.
“How are you, my friend? Are you happy?” Thankfully, her cousin was welcoming Sir William and Maria, the new Miss Lucas, so his attention was not focused on her.
Seeing her obsequious, unintelligent, odiferous, and ridiculous cousin reminded Elizabeth of all the reasons she had refused his offer of marriage in November 1811, less than four and twenty hours before he proposed to and was accepted by Charlotte.
How could the man try to make her regret refusing him while standing next to his wife?
She smiled to herself that although, unfortunately, her mother had not kept to her resolve to never speak to Elizabeth again for refusing Mr Collins, until Sir William collected her to convey her to Hunsford, Mamma had been rather voluble in her laments about her disobedient, ungrateful, undutiful, and wilful daughter.
“How can I not be pleased, Eliza? I am the mistress of my own home; I am married to a respectable man, and I will never be a burden on Papa, or Franklin after him,” Charlotte replied. “You know how I have wanted my own establishment for some years. Now, I have one.”
Elizabeth did not miss that her friend had not said she was fortunate in her choice of husband or any other comments about the man in question.
She was certain that Mr Collins’s foolishness and absolute worship of his patroness would have driven her insane in no time at all.
Based on her cousin’s non-stop praise of all things Lady Catherine when he had been at Longbourn, Elizabeth was certain that Lady Catherine interfered in every facet of the Collins’ lives.
She remembered how he had spoken of adding shelves to the closets because of some comment Lady Cathrine made, or some instruction she issued.
Hence, Elizabeth was sure Charlotte had experienced the same already and was repenting her hasty decision to accept Mr Collins.
Unfortunately for her friend, she would have to live with her choice for many years.
That had to be true because, after all, Charlotte was far too intelligent for it not to be so.
The three guests were invited into the house while the parsonage’s manservant assisted Sir William’s lone footman to unlash the trunks and take them to the relevant chambers.
The three new arrivals followed the master and mistress of the house inside, where a maid was waiting to relieve them of their outerwear.
As soon as his wife had conducted a tour of the ground floor, Collins continued his campaign to show his cousin all she was missing by having refused him.
“As you can see, Cousin Elizabeth, the house is very comfortable, befitting one of my rank,” he stated as soon as his wife had shown their guests about the ground floor of the parsonage.
“I am sure Charlotte is very comfortable here,” Elizabeth deflected. She could have made any number of cutting comments, but good manners dictated that she not do so, and she was certain poor Charlotte would be greatly embarrassed.
Seeing what her husband was about, Charlotte interceded before he made more of a fool of himself.
She was convinced Eliza was even more certain that her initial reaction when she decried Charlotte’s decision was correct.
“Mr Collins, did not Lady Catherine mention that your garden and beehives require much of your attention to be as successful as she demands?” Charlotte asked slyly.
Collins was horrified that he was not following one of Lady Catherine’s commands.
There would be time to make sure his cousin understood how foolish she had been to refuse his offer.
“Thank you for reminding me, my dove,” Collins enthused.
“I will go tend to my garden and hives forthwith. Never let it be said that I do not follow Lady Catherine’s sage advice to the letter.
” With a quick bow, the parson made his way out of the house with alacrity, only stopping to don his broad-brimmed hat.
Sir William and Maria decided they needed some rest. Charlotte had the maid show them up to their chambers.
Charlotte led Elizabeth into the back parlour they had toured a few minutes earlier.
She pushed the door closed and turned to face her friend.
“Eliza, I am so sorry. I never realised when my husband agreed for you to come visit me that his intention was to try to prove to you how much you erred in rejecting his proposals.” She paused briefly.
“By the by, this parlour is for my particular use, and I am very seldom disturbed here, especially as I encourage my husband to work in his gardens whenever he is at leisure. You are always welcome to sit in here.”