Chapter Four
Hunsford, near Tonbridge in Kent, was nearly two hundred miles away from Pemberley, a full four days’ journey. It would have been a good deal longer, had Mr. Darcy not had horses of his own stabled at various inns along the way, so that the horses could be quickly changed out when necessary.
The Darcy traveling coach was well-padded and as comfortable as modern design could make it, but travel had never been Georgiana’s favourite activity, so she was glad when they finally arrived at Rosings Park.
When she was assisted from the carriage, she stretched her arms overhead and looked around her.
She had not visited here for some years, but it looked much as she remembered it: very grand, with beautiful lawns and flowers, and an enormous forest that one could get quite lost in if one was not careful.
“It is quite warm, is it not?” her brother asked her. “We are a good deal further south than Pemberley.” The difference was palpable, he thought. The trees here had a richer, deeper scent than those at home; the air felt somehow heavier.
“I am glad I thought to bring my lighter gowns,” Georgiana replied.
“Will you need money, Georgiana? For a new gown, or anything?”
“I have my pin money for the last two quarters, Brother. I do not think I will need any more than that.”
Fenworth, the long-time butler of Rosings Park, stepped out to greet the new arrivals. He was as tall and bony as Mr. Darcy had remembered him. “Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy,” he intoned, bowing deeply. “Her ladyship is expecting you.”
They were led to the family parlour. Fenworth announced them, and stepped aside. Georgiana noted that it looked exactly as she had recalled it, all red and gold, with family portraits on the walls. It seemed that nothing changed at Rosings.
Lady Catherine rose, majestically, and walked forward to kiss Mr. Darcy on the cheek, murmuring, “Darcy,” and then gave Georgiana a brief hug. “I am happy to see you, Georgiana,” she said, briskly. “You look tired. I hope you are not ill?”
“I have been in a carriage for several days, Aunt,” Georgiana replied. “I am a little weary, yes, but not ill.”
“I am glad to hear it,” her ladyship declared. “For poor Anne is susceptible to illness, and it would not do for her to become ill while you are here.”
“Where is Anne, Aunt?” Georgiana asked.
“I sent her upstairs to rest. I am certain she will be down in time for dinner.”
“Oh.” Georgiana’s disappointment could not be masked. Would Anne be tired all the time?
“Mrs. Cheshire will show you to your rooms,” Lady Catherine said, pulling on a bell cord.
The housekeeper led the Darcys upstairs. Mr. Darcy had his usual room, where he stayed whenever he visited. His valet, Hastings, was already waiting for him, ready to brush the dust from his master’s clothing and make him presentable.
The room assigned to Georgiana was quite large, decorated in the ornate style that Lady Catherine very evidently preferred. It had an attached sitting room which, Georgiana was happy to learn, was shared with Anne.
A maid had been sent up to help Georgiana unpack. They were nearly done when there was a soft knock on the door that opened to the sitting room. “Yes?” Georgiana called out.
The door opened, and a pale, thin face peeked around the corner. “Georgiana?”
“Oh, Anne!” Georgiana jumped up and rushed to hug her cousin.
Anne seemed quite taken aback by the hug and she froze for a moment, but recovered quickly and returned the caress. “I am happy you have come, Cousin,” Anne said, in a soft voice.
The two stepped into the sitting room and sat down together.
“Thank you, Anne,” Georgiana said. “I have so longed to see you!” Which was not quite true, but seemed the right thing to say.
“I am afraid you will find us quite dull here at Rosings Park,” Anne murmured, looking down.
“It is quite dull at Pemberley as well,” Georgiana returned. “But perhaps together we may liven things up a bit.”
Anne’s eyes widened at that. “Oh, no,” she said. “Mother will never permit that!”
As if summoned by the mere thought of things being livened up, Mrs. Jenkinson appeared in the doorway of Georgiana’s room. “Oh, there are you are, Miss de Bourgh!” she exclaimed. “Why, I had begun to think you had run off! Good afternoon, Miss Darcy,” she added, curtseying to Georgiana.
Georgiana returned the gesture, but said, “Why did you think she might have run off, Mrs. Jenkinson? Is this not her sitting room as well as mine?”
“Well, yes, but she is generally still in her room at this hour,” Mrs. Jenkinson said, looking uneasy. “When I saw that she was not in bed, I feared the worst.”
“The worst being that she was in her sitting room or perhaps visiting with her newly arrived cousin?” Georgiana was honestly confused.
Mrs. Jenkinson only shrugged and looked away.
Georgiana’s first impulse was to simply acquiesce. There was no point in making difficulties, was there? She began to apologise. “I am sorry, Mrs. Jenkinson; I did not think anyone would be worried.”
Mrs. Jenkinson looked pleased, and she nodded. “Very well, Miss Darcy.”
But suddenly Georgiana began to feel rather uneasy. Was Anne watched this closely all the time? And did that mean that Georgiana’s every move would be scrutinized as well? If that was the case, being at Rosings might be downright intolerable!
No, this would never do. She took a deep breath and did her best to keep her voice from shaking as she added, “But you need not fear in the future, Mrs. Jenkinson. Anne will be spending a good deal of time with me while I am here, and I will make certain that she is safe.”
Anne looked from Mrs. Jenkinson to Georgiana and back again, and then the merest beginning of a smile touched her lips.
Georgiana felt encouraged by that smile, so she continued, raising her chin. “In fact, might we be left alone for a time now, Mrs. Jenkinson? Anne and I have not seen one another for some years, and I think we would prefer to speak in private.”
Both Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson stared at Georgiana in astonishment. Mrs. Jenkinson looked to Anne, and Anne surprised everyone in the room by saying, “Yes, please, Mrs. Jenkinson.”
Mrs. Jenkinson’s brows rose to her hairline, and she left the room slowly, muttering to herself.
Georgiana felt immensely proud of herself. She had been astonishingly bold, to have spoken to Mrs. Jenkinson in such a manner. Her heart was still pounding hard.
But Anne was worried. “Oh, dear,” she said, wringing her hands. “She will tell Mother that I asked her to leave!”
“Is that such a dreadful thing, Anne?” Georgiana asked. “Surely it is not at all unreasonable for the two of us to wish to speak together without Mrs. Jenkinson listening to every word!”
“That is not how Mother will view it,” Anne whispered. “She will wonder what the two of us have to say that Mrs. Jenkinson may not overhear!”
Georgiana considered this. “Well,” she said. “I do not have any friends of my own sex, but I believe it is common enough for young ladies to whisper and giggle together. Or so the novels I have read tell me.”
“I am not permitted to read novels,” Anne said. “They are bad for my moral character.”
Georgiana began to wonder if coming to Rosings Park for the summer had been such a good idea, after all.
***
That night at dinner, Georgiana sat through what felt like an interminable number of courses; but doubtless this was in honour of her brother, for surely the de Bourghs did not dine so very formally every evening.
She whispered her supposition to her brother, who sighed and whispered back, “I fear this is Aunt Catherine’s standard fare. ”
Aunt Catherine raised her eyes and stared down the table at Georgiana, “Had you a question, my dear?”
Georgiana, now uncomfortable, said, “I was merely asking my brother if the household dines so formally every evening.”
“Ah. We do, yes, as it is important for us to maintain our standards.”
“Standards?” Georgiana was bewildered.
“Yes; such is expected of us.”
“But by whom?” Georgiana was now even more puzzled.
“Why, everyone,” her aunt replied, as if this were entirely self-evident. “The neighbours, the townsfolk, the world at large. We are the epitome of society, here in our little corner of England, and it is up to us to point the way, to show others how things are done properly.”
Georgiana could not help but observe that there was no one here to see how things were properly done, unless one counted the servants! She opened her mouth to say so, but a slight movement to her left stopped her. It was her brother, ever so slightly shaking his head at her.
After the meal was finally over, and everyone had repaired to the formal drawing room – as there was no point in Mr. Darcy sitting alone at the table after the ladies had left it – Aunt Catherine announced, “There is little that I enjoy as much as music; Georgiana will play for us.”
‘I will?’ Georgiana thought, but she obediently went to the pianoforte and rifled through the available music.
She selected a few pieces and sat down to play.
After a few moments, she could hear voices behind her; she understood at once that Aunt Catherine might claim to enjoy music, but she could not sit silently and actually listen to it.
The music merely formed a backdrop for whatever conversation her ladyship wished to conduct.
This was certainly not the first time Georgiana had encountered this situation, but she still could not understand it.
Was not music more important than conversation?
When she finished her two pieces, she rose and sat beside Anne on the sofa. Mrs. Jenkinson sat on Anne’s other side, and was insisting that Anne put on another shawl so that she might not catch cold, while Anne protested that the room was quite warm.
Georgiana decided that there was nothing to be lost at this point, so she said, rather loudly, “Mrs. Jenkinson, do you not think that Anne is capable of knowing when she requires a shawl?”
The room fell silent.
Anne immediately turned red and stared down at her shoes. Aunt Catherine had risen to her feet, staring down at Georgiana from what seemed a very great height.
Mr. Darcy came to Georgiana’s rescue. “Indeed, Georgiana, I think you quite right. Anne is not mentally deficient, at least not to the best of my knowledge.” His tone was ever-so-slightly sarcastic.
Aunt Catherine could not allow that to pass, of course; she immediately turned to Mrs. Jenkinson and said, regally, “I think we may allow Anne to make her own decisions in that regard, Mrs. Jenkinson.”
The companion nodded, but then glared at Georgiana. Georgiana glared back.
Anne leaned over and whispered, “Thank you, Cousin!”
When they were finally released to retire for the night, Georgiana went first to her brother’s room.
“Everything here is quite odd, is it not?” she began.
Mr. Darcy sighed. “Aunt Catherine has always had rather elevated ideas about her station in life and its attendant responsibilities,” he replied.
“Poor Anne! To grow up with Aunt Catherine as a mother!”
“And with Mrs. Jenkinson as her only companion! It is dreadful indeed for poor Anne. But, Georgiana, this does not mean that it falls to you to repair the situation. It is not too late for you to change your mind,” he said. “I can make our excuses and take you with me back to Pemberley tomorrow.”
Georgiana considered this for several minutes. Finally, she shook her head. “No. Anne needs my help. I cannot abandon her.”
Mr. Darcy nodded. “I honour you for your feelings, Georgiana, but if you change your mind, you need simply send a message and I will be here to fetch you as soon as may be.”