Chapter 11. Mrs Collins’s Guest at Hunsford
Two days after the funeral for Jane Bennet, Georgiana Darcy wished to visit her friend. She waited until she was alone with her brother to make her request asking, “William, may we call at Gracechurch Street today?”
When she saw the instant hesitation in his eyes, she added, “Or tomorrow?”
Mr Darcy smiled sadly as he explained, “No, Georgie. The Gardiner household will be in mourning until after Christmas. Beginning in October we may make social calls, but the Gardiners will not go out to the theatre, invite guests for dinner, or attend dinner at the home of others until December.”
“Oh dear, your courtship of Miss Elizabeth will grow cold…” Georgiana pouted.
Not completely surprized to hear that his sister was aware of his growing feelings for Miss Bennet, Darcy pressed his lips together tightly, not willing to deny his sister’s statement or correct her speech–they were alone after all.
“Since I cannot call, do I have your permission to write to Miss Elizabeth?” she asked. “I can tell her about my studies and ask questions about sums and Shakespeare’s sonnets.”
“Yes, you may write to her,” Mr Darcy agreed, hopeful that he would hear of Elizabeth’s day through his sister’s correspondence.
“And may I tell her of your day when I write?” Georgiana asked. “I am certain she will include multiple hints asking for news of your moods and scowls in her replies if I do not include the details in my letters.”
Now William Darcy smiled broadly and said, “I believe that is a wonderful idea… And will you allow me to read her replies?”
“Oh course, I would never interfere in a true romance,” the young woman teased.
“Georgie!” he scolded without any heat in his voice.
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During the next weeks, Elizabeth attempted to lose her grief with tasks and caring for others; anything to not dwell on the loss of Jane. She joined her aunt holding Charlie for many hours every day, as well as playing with her cousins and reading to them.
Occasionally, she was able to help Uncle Edward with sums, but the man spent his days at his warehouse and with other tradesmen.
The wet nurse had two small children with her at the house on Gracechurch Street.
Elizabeth immediately noticed the poor quality of the clothes the children wore so she sewed new gowns for the woman and for her two daughters.
There were almost daily letters from Miss Darcy with news of her lessons and stories about her brother’s plans and meetings.
Mr Darcy and his sister led quiet lives except for his forays into politics.
According to the hand-written pages, Mr Darcy entertained three times during these quiet weeks; Miss Darcy wrote that the visitors were all gentlemen with whom ‘William’ had business dealings or common interests in matters before Parliament.
The prime minister called on Mr Darcy in his Mayfair residence to discuss the war apparently but rather than discussing the matter or any bills before Parliament, Miss Darcy wrote about the colours of waist coats, cut of the pants, and styles of boots worn by each gentleman.
In the evenings, Elizabeth found comfort in reading the letters again.
Each letter revealed much about the Darcy household and Mr Darcy’s discussions with his sister.
Miss Darcy wrote about their own period of mourning for their father eight years earlier; ‘I was but seven years and did not notice any changes in my life except I was not allowed to run about for the first month. When I asked how it affected his day-to-day life, William said he did not attend the theatre for six months and avoided dinner with predatory mommas for a full year.’
Elizabeth appreciated the respect for her need to grieve for Jane, but she missed Mr Darcy’s presence and the smiles she could bring to his face on occasion.
The conflict in her emotions caused her to withdraw from conversations with her aunt and uncle, spending more time alone in her room.
One evening while wrapping Miss Darcy’s letters in a bright ribbon to hold them, Elizabeth thought of the letters that Jane kept and read regularly.
‘The letters from Charles Bingley,’ she remembered. ‘Are they in Jane’s things?’
She scrambled up from her chair and found the trunk with Jane’s things, her hairbrush, nightgowns, stockings, and the bundle of letters. Elizabeth stared at the papers, so carefully folded and tied into a bundle by a ribbon.
‘They meant so much to Jane,’ she mused and glanced back toward her own bundle of letters. ‘She did love him…how could he walk away from such a woman?’
As July passed, Mrs Gardiner grew concerned with her niece’s demeanour and complexion.
“Lizzy, I believe you should walk out with Nanny and I when we take the children to the park.”
Looking up from her sewing, Elizabeth frowned, “I must finish this gown for Mrs Simple before I can walk about.”
“You provided Mrs Simple with two new gowns and a nightgown already. This is enough.”
Bowing her head, Elizabeth nodded while she thought of a new task, ‘Perhaps Uncle Gardiner needs some sums?’
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Mr and Mrs Gardiner spoke at length about Elizabeth’s sadness. Mr Gardiner seemed lost in thought for a time before he said, “Perhaps a change in scenery would be best for Lizzy.”
“I do not think a visit to Hertfordshire would benefit Lizzy!” Mrs Gardiner instantly replied instantly. “There has been no response to your letter to Thomas…to Mr Bennet in these many weeks.”
“No, not Hertfordshire. But perhaps Elizabeth’s friend in Kent; Mrs Collins was it not?”
Mrs Gardiner paused and reminded her husband, “The husband is the pastor…the heir who will inherit Longbourn.”
Her husband nodded to acknowledge his wife’s reminder but then he continued saying, “And I remember that commerce between the two households ended last December. Mr Collins will have no reason to communicate with Mr Bennet and mention the visit of his wayward daughter.
“I shall write to Mrs Collins tomorrow morning,” Mrs Gardiner informed her husband.
“You do not think I should write to…”
“No, Mrs Collins must ask her husband for the favour of a visit of a childhood friend.”
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Three nights later, there was an interesting conversation in the parsonage at Hunsford between the parson and his wife.
“But my dear Charlotte, what will Lady Catherine say?” Mr Collins cried when his wife informed him of his cousin’s need for a change of scenery.
Charlotte Collins smiled and laid a gentle hand on her husband’s arm. They were seated each in their favourite chair before the cold fireplace in the parlour with only a few candles lit to provide light this evening.
“Mr Collins, you will minister to a wayward cousin…ensuring her place within the grace of the church. In our quiet home, Miss Elizabeth will be able to mourn her beloved sister and heal,” Charlotte reminded him.
“Lady Catherine will understand why the young lady does not impose on her gracious hospitality. You may certainly attend her ladyship’s teas and dinners, but I will remain close to our cousin to help her overcome her grief. ”
“And her dress?”
Charlotte nodded, “She will attend church on Sunday with black ribbons on her sleeves and in her bonnet of course. Otherwise, she will dress modesty and walk out with hat, gloves, and parasol.”
Mr Collins frowned, “She must be escorted at all times. One of the girls perhaps?”
“I shall get one of the Jones boys,” Charlotte replied. “Elizabeth would wear out any maid with her walks, but Henry Jones is ten years, and he can be her escort.”
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“Hunsford?” Elizabeth asked with surprize in her voice when Aunt Madeline handed her niece a letter from Charlotte Collins that included an invitation for Elizabeth Bennet to spend the whole of the month of August with the Collins couple at the parsonage.
“How far is Hunsford?”
Uncle Edward replied, “I believe Hunsford is just beyond Ashford, near the Romney Marsh. It cannot be more that seventy miles, a good day of travel for certain. You can take the stagecoach to Ashford in a single day, then hire a pony cart to carry you on to Hunsford.”
“But can you…?”
Aunt Madeline rose to draw Elizabeth up from her chair and embraced her niece and said, “Lizzy, I have Nanny and Mrs Simple to aid me with the children. Cook, Howard, Alice and the new staff anticipate my every need.”
“We want you to heal,” Uncle Edward replied. “You cared for Jane for many months this year.”
“You are my child, Elizabeth; never doubt that. You were transplanted here, but you are a beautiful flower that graces my garden,” Aunt Madeline insisted.
“And every flower needs time to rest and grow stronger before blooming again. Go visit your friend and heal. Write to us and the children with stories of your adventures in the beautiful meadows of Kent.”
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Georgiana Darcy’s morning began poorly. When she arrived in the dining room with Mrs Annesley to break her fast with her brother, she recognized immediately that something had happened; some piece of news irritated his sensibilities, and he was conflicted.
Mr Banks left the room twice and the coachman and her brother’s valet both visited during the meal for quiet conversations with William at his place at the table; these were unusual interruptions to their morning ritual.
Eating her meal quietly, Georgiana kept her gaze on her brother the entire time. Once finished, she rose from her chair and approached William. Mrs Annesley remained silent while observing the interactions between the siblings. If Miss Darcy required instruction, it would come later.
“William, tell me about these interruptions this morning,” she said, laying one hand on his shoulder. “What has occurred to change your routine?”