Chapter Twelve #2
The following evening, after Mr. Darcy and his cousins had taken their leave from Rosings Park, Lady Catherine graciously extended a dinner invitation to the Hunsford party.
Civilities were exchanged with Mr. Collins embarking upon a profusion of compliments, matched by her ladyship’s own agreeable remarks, though the cause of her unusually buoyant spirits remained undisclosed until they were seated.
“Usually,” Lady Catherine began with a grand sweep of the hand, “the moment my nephews withdraw from my presence, I experience a lingering sense of ennui. Yet this year, I was so eager for their departure that I almost pushed them out the door.
Lady Catherine paused, as though she expected someone to take the bait, which Mr. Collins did with alacrity.
“I recall your apathy last year, your ladyship, when both of your illustrious nephews departed Kent. However, you and Miss de Bourgh quickly revived your spirits.”
“Anne and I have such a fondness for my nephews, and finally our dearest wish has been granted.”
“Your dearest wish?” Mr. Collins could not help but ask.
Elizabeth held some admiration for the way Lady Catherine manipulated the strings on her favourite puppet, leading him to beg for the news she so desperately wanted to shout from the highest peak of Rosings Park’s roof.
Secure in the knowledge of the letter she had hidden at the bottom of her trunk, Elizabeth was fully prepared to listen to the great lady crow about her daughter’s future felicity with confidence.
“Yes,” Lady Catherine confirmed, her eyes bright. “Even as we speak, Anne and her betrothed are in town, and as soon as my nephew obtains a Special License, they will be married at his residence, followed by a three-month sojourn in Derbyshire.”
“My lady,” exclaimed Mr. Collins, “my joy knows no bounds upon hearing this account! You have so often foretold this union, and now it is at hand. You have always maintained that, in point of true beauty, Miss De Bourgh surpasses the loveliest of her sex. It is no little wonder that Mr. Darcy has finally made her his bride. How could he resist a countenance so eminently noble? Indeed, Derbyshire may consider itself fortunate to gain Kent’s greatest treasure. ”
“I thank you for the compliments to my daughter, Mr. Collins. They are well deserved.” Lady Catherine turned her attention to the ladies at the table. “And you, Miss Bennet, what are your thoughts on my daughter’s good news?”
“I wish Miss de Bourgh and your nephew every happiness in their marriage.”
“The engagement between them was of a peculiar kind. From their infancy, they were intended for one another. It was the favourite wish of his mother, as well as my daughter’s.” Lady Catherine got a faraway look in her eyes. “While in their cradles, my sister and I planned their marriage.”
Elizabeth once again held back a smile. Mr. Darcy was at least three years older than his delicate cousin. In no way had they been in cradles together.
Lady Catherine continued, turning to Charlotte, “I once feared my nephew might dawdle or even consider a match beneath him. My Hertfordshire informant hinted he was quite taken with a local Meryton girl. Before you married Mr. Collins, you must have seen Darcy at various gatherings. Did he ever pay attention to any young ladies there?”
“No, your ladyship,” Charlotte answered without hesitation, of which Elizabeth was grateful.
“Your nephew behaved in a most respectful manner towards any single woman in attendance. In fact, he often displayed a proud manner, which kept even the fiercest of matchmaking mothers from approaching him.”
“Truly? How reassuring. It tells me that he had already fixed his choice.” Lady Catherine frowned.
“But why did Mr. Wickham write such an alarming letter? I almost went to Hertfordshire myself to uncover the truth, but you have confirmed that I had nothing to dread in that regard, though I am seriously displeased.”
“May I suggest you take what that gentleman relates with a pinch of caution,” Elizabeth dared to interject. “It came to my father’s attention that Mr. Wickham has a decided prejudice against Mr. Darcy, and attempted to spread untruths to anyone who would listen.”
“He dared to speak against my nephew, after what Darcy’s father did for him! I am of a mind to write Mr. Wickham myself, and tell him how exceedingly annoyed I am with him.”
“I would not, your ladyship.” Elizabeth hurried to placate the annoyed woman.
“Mr. Wickham is the type of man who thrives on attention. Even a brief note will make him believe he has your approbation, and he would boast of his connection with you. I would not condescend to acknowledge him, even in passing.”
“You are uncommonly bright, Miss Bennet, and give your opinion most decidedly, but I concur. I will not even recognise him, neither by letter nor in person. Not that I would ever see him. We do not travel in the same social circles.”
Conversation then shifted to parish concerns and the pleasant weather that had been enjoyed over the past week.
While Mr. Collins engaged her ladyship with some questions concerning his next sermon, Charlotte and Elizabeth spoke quietly.
Maria, for some reason, sat in rapt attention between Mr. Collins and Lady Catherine.