Chapter One
Rosings Park, Kent
“Farewell, Oscar! Farewell, Barnaby! Farewell, tedious Olivia! I hope your carriage crashes into Hunsford Creek.” Lady Catherine de Bourgh smiled cheerfully as she joined her daughters in waving to the departing carriage, which was at too great a distance already for the de Bourgh cousins within to hear her speech.
Jane gasped. “Mamma! You rather sound like Lizzy.”
Elizabeth grinned. “No indeed! I cannot join you in wishing them to the very devil, Mamma; they were vastly too amusing!”
“They are not so very bad,” Jane said with a little wince. “They have some right to be interested in the ladies who are to inherit the de Bourgh ancestral home.”
“They have no right at all to question me,” Lady Catherine harrumphed.
“Their father did not have the temerity to be born before my late husband, and therefore it can be nothing to them whom I decide to leave my house, my fortune, and all my worldly goods, when the time comes. God has taken my Anne, but he has given me the pair of you, and my nephews are neither entitled to my beautiful daughters nor to what I bequeath you. Indeed, I think their showing up here uninvited on the final day of our mourning for my brother was exceedingly ill-judged, and it is not to be borne!”
They had been in near-constant mourning for three years.
The Bennet sisters and Lady Catherine had been inconsolable after the loss of Anne de Bourgh; despite her years of failing health, her death was still a terrible blow.
Shortly after this, Lady Anne was made a widow once more, when her husband Sir Geoffrey Beaumont was thrown from his horse.
A year later, their cousin Robert Fitzwilliam, third son of the Earl of Matlock had been taken by a fever, and his father suffered a sudden apoplexy within a twelvemonth.
Elizabeth had been in mourning since she was seventeen.
The de Bourghs had imposed upon Lady Catherine for a week at Rosings, and though Elizabeth had found them to be nothing short of absurd, they were the only suitors she had ever had.
Jane had been betrothed to Robert Fitzwilliam before his death; she had liked him well enough, though she had never exhibited any symptoms of being in love with him.
Before her death, Anne de Bourgh was destined to be mistress of Pemberley until Georgiana came of age, or so Lady Catherine had hoped.
But Richard, second son of the earl and steward of Pemberley, had been resistant to the match.
Indeed, he had been quite elusive since the girls had all reached a marriageable age; whenever he was invited to Rosings with the rest of his family, he was always busy attending to matters of business at Pemberley, or visiting the sickbed of his ailing friend Mr. Bunbury.
Elizabeth could not repine her want of such underwhelming beaux as her cousins, either of the Fitzwilliam or de Bourgh variety.
There had even been a Bennet cousin, the exceedingly fatuous son of her father’s heir, who had visited and been swiftly ejected from the house by Lady Catherine after diverting them all for half an hour with his dim-witted pomposity and extolling on the glories of Longbourn to Jane in particular.
The romantic history of her aunt, Lady Anne, still enthralled Elizabeth, and she dearly wished for a proper suitor.
In private moments, Jane sometimes confessed the same desire.
Jane wished to find an amiable and lively husband, but swore that she was in no great rush, that she felt all her good fortune and was perfectly content at Rosings.
Elizabeth comprehended these sentiments; their lives at Rosings had been beyond what the daughters of Longbourn might have expected.
And yet, the grief of recent years had cast a shadow over her idyllic country home, and she longed for a chance to move more in the world, to find the companion of her future life – a life she wished to fill with adventure and diversion.
Lady Catherine led the girls back into the house, for it was time to dress for dinner.
Their relations from Beaumont Hall were expected that evening, and the subject of their recent visitors occupied them for much of the meal.
Lady Catherine spoke with contempt of her late husband’s relations, but Elizabeth regaled her aunt and cousin with an abundance of mirth and no little exaggeration.
She had always enjoyed any opportunity to make a study of any new characters she encountered; she was clever enough to swiftly comprehend their follies and flaws, and good-humored enough to turn them into jests without being cruel.
She expressed all her delight at discovering Oscar de Bourgh to be an aspiring poet, and Barnaby de Bourgh to be so devoted to his own fine looks that he could never repine the admiration of a lady.
Lady Anne listened to Elizabeth’s banter with the same fond smile she always wore in the company of the ladies of Rosings, and then she waited for Jane to defend the gentlemen, for she always did find the best in everyone.
But Jane had little to say in their favor, which Georgiana found riotously amusing.
“They must have been ghastly! I am sorry we were away from home, though I enjoyed visiting my younger brother.”
Lady Anne gave an account of her young son Henry Beaumont, who was excelling in his studies and growing more like his late father at every visit. Then she sighed, and gave Lady Catherine an arch look.
“The children are all quite grown up, Cathy. Georgiana is nearly seventeen, and I have agreed that she may have a little season in London this year. Perhaps you will bring the girls; I believe it is time.”
“Aye, so it is,” Lady Catherine admitted, casting a look of assessment over her daughters. “You have every advantage of fortune, beauty, and accomplishment.”
“You are both far too lovely to be still unwed,” Lady Anne agreed. “It is a pity we have not been able to move in society since you both reached an age to be out, though I believe Georgiana will be happy to share her debutante season with you.”
Georgiana’s eyes lit with excitement, and she gave an emphatic nod. “I will not be half so anxious if you are with me,” she agreed.
“I shall write to the dowager countess,” Lady Catherine said. “Unless you wish to open Darcy House, Anne?”
Lady Anne’s countenance shaded, as it always did at any allusion to her tragic first marriage.
“No… no. We will stay at Matlock House. We practically grew up there, and I am sure it is large enough to accommodate all of us.” She turned a teasing smile on Jane and Elizabeth.
“We must do a great deal of shopping. Are you prepared for the exertion and the subsequent tribulations of being admired wherever you go?”
“That will indeed be a trial,” Lady Catherine drawled.
“Every fortune hunter in London will be sniffing around!
You must be on your guard, girls, for penniless rakes who profess their love as they covet your dowries.
Three young ladies with thirty thousand pounds apiece!
I shall be obliged to stand sentinel at the door with saber drawn ‘round the clock!”
Elizabeth waggled her eyebrows at her sister and cousin.
“And my two companions to inherit estates, besides. I suppose I shall sleep a little easier, though I may lament my own lack of suitors, if not my want of property. But I shall take comfort in growing exceedingly accomplished, having so many free hours to practice art and music while Jane and Georgiana are beset by beaux vying to become the next masters of Rosings and Pemberley. Nobody will think of me, and I am sure I could not fancy anybody who did prefer me of the three of us, for you know I could never love a man who is out of his wits.”
“Well, that eliminates Richard as a prospect,” Lady Catherine drawled, giving her sister a sideward glance.
“He is always shilly-shallying about with his invalid friend Bunbury, waiting for the poor wretch to die, as he ought to do so that Richard might finally be settled. But Jane, you may be just the siren to tempt him. You are such a sweet, steady creature, and you are sure to be the most beautiful woman in any room you enter.”
“Oh, yes,” Lady Anne agreed. “But do not let your mamma shade your impression of him – you must remember how kind he was to you in your youth.”
“Before Mamma’s talk of marriage frightened him away,” Elizabeth laughed. “It would serve him right if you did not fancy him at all, Jane, and obliged him to give chase.”
“Hush! Perish the thought! Jane is better than such paltry tactics, Lizzy, and I know you would never act that way yourself.”
“Certainly not, Mamma. If I am so lucky as to meet a man of good sense and good humor, whom I can love and respect, I shall make no secret of being very well pleased.”
“And so you shall. I daresay you will meet a great many and have the luxury of choice.”
“Only take care that your choice aligns with your mother’s,” Lady Anne said with a smirk.
“What a fine joke if cousin Richard were to fancy Lizzy instead,” Georgiana laughed. “Or me!”
“He is of a more suitable age for Jane,” Lady Catherine said.
“It shall all be very tidy; he has done well enough in managing Pemberley, and when Georgiana is wed or comes of age, Richard will come here and run the place for me, and you will succeed me as mistress of Rosings, Jane. You were brought up for such greatness, and I know you will be very happy.”
Jane gave them all a tight smile. “I hope I shall be loved by some gentleman of whom you approve, Mamma. Cousin Richard has avoided us for years, and I should not wish to feel myself forced upon him.”
“Nobody in their right mind could consider you forceful, Jane,” Elizabeth told her sister with a reassuring smile. “Although Mamma seems to think our cousin Richard is not entirely sensible, so perhaps you may yet have some choice in your future happiness.”
“Richard will behave sensibly when I instruct him to do so,” Lady Catherine harrumphed.
“And upon no account should any of you think of the new young earl. Rupert will undoubtedly think you in possession of every virtue he requires, for he has already nearly bankrupted the earldom! I shall inform the dowager countess that her unfortunate first-born had better go and manage his affairs at Matlock Park when we come to London, for despite his many failings, charming the ladies is not amongst them! He is a rake and a profligate; I think it a terrible pity he was born before Richard, who at least knows better than to race horses in Rotten Row and take up with actresses – and countless other indecencies I cannot speak of to my gently-bred darlings!”
Lady Anne smiled wryly as her sister fanned herself with indignation.
“Let us not vex ourselves, else I fear we shall talk ourselves out of any enjoyment in our scheme, and there are a great many pleasures to be had in London. You will make friends and take in the culture, and you will learn how to navigate the fine society your station entitles you to move amongst. If you fall in love, we shall be very happy for you, but we will be content, regardless, to have so many agreeable experiences.”
Elizabeth admired her aunt’s attitude, and she was relieved to see that Lady Anne had allayed some of Jane’s anxiety.
She saw the wisdom in making what she could of a month or two in town, and even tried to persuade herself that she would be content to move amongst a new and varied set of acquaintance, observing all the foibles and extravagances of the first circle.
Elizabeth had a romantic heart, upon which she hoped some worthy gentleman might make an impression.
And yet, she required so much, for beyond the common merits of intelligence and humor packaged nicely in a handsome, masculine form, Elizabeth still clung to the youthful fancy inspired by her favorite aunt – she secretly, and perhaps foolishly, longed to love a man by the name of Darcy.