Chapter Sixteen #3
They agreed, and soon the five ladies were seated around a small mahogany table covered in a snow-white cloth.
Wisps of steam curled above their porcelain cups as Elizabeth cleared her throat delicately.
She began by outlining a bit of their family history, then concluded with, “Papa received the express, announcing Cousin Arthur’s death, and decided we should immediately withdraw from your brother’s ball. ”
“My goodness! Such news in the midst of a ball!” exclaimed Mrs. Hurst. “Did your father not expect to inherit?”
“He did, but not so soon,” Elizabeth replied. “Ever since Cousin Arthur’s son died in ’05, Father knew he would eventually become Earl Rumley, provided he outlived his cousin, who was only two and fifty. His passing took us all by surprise.”
Louisa Hurst frowned and canted her head to one side, as though in deep thought.
“Did not the late earl’s son hold a courtesy title of viscount?”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at the precise question.
“He did. At the time of Peter’s death, Cousin Arthur offered Father the title Viscount Tuttreon, but he declined.
” At Mrs. Hurst’s audible gasp, Elizabeth allowed herself a small, knowing smile.
“Papa saw no advantage, as it would not have altered our life in Hertfordshire.”
“But… he would have been Lord Tuttreon, and your mother Lady Tuttreon,” Mrs. Hurst persisted, her voice low but insistent. “It certainly would have enhanced your status in Meryton.”
“Mrs. Hurst,” Jane interjected softly, “our standing in Meryton has never depended on titles. Father already owns the largest estate after Netherfield. A title does not define us.”
“Indeed,” Elizabeth agreed, her tone measured as she lifted her teacup.
“A title might even have alienated our friends and neighbours. We all assumed Cousin Arthur would live to a grand old age, and Papa would inherit when he was in his dotage and all his daughters married and gone from Longbourn. A title, or the prefix of ‘Honourable’ before our names, had no bearing on how we went about our daily lives.”
“It may have curbed your younger sisters’ behaviour—” Mrs. Hurst began, then covered her mouth, whispering, “Forgive me; that was uncalled for.”
“Think nothing of it, Mrs. Hurst,” Jane soothed. “Our two youngest sisters were indeed spirited, but you will be pleased to learn they are thriving at an academy for young ladies. Both of which are in Kent.”
“Are the earl and countess still in town?” Miss Grantley asked.
“They are not. After Mother’s presentation at court, they departed for Tetherwood, the family seat in Bedfordshire. We shall join them in mid-June.”
“How delightful, though I am sorry for your loss,” Miss Grantley said, inclining her head with proper solemnity.
“My mother would be honoured to host you and your mother for tea upon your return. Mrs. Gardiner, you are most welcome as well. Mother speaks often of your friendship with Lady Meadowbrook and Lady Matlock. At times, she is quite envious of your easy camaraderie.”
Aunt Madeline smiled warmly. “I have known Lady Meadowbrook since our skirts were short and our hair in braids. Lady Matlock’s friendship was with my mother, but I hold her in great esteem. I am certain your mother, too, has childhood friends she meets with enjoyment.”
Miss Grantley’s lips curved upward. “Indeed, she does! When they meet, they often laugh so hard their cheeks hurt.”
Aunt Madeline raised her teacup in a gentle toast. “Well then,” she said with a merry glance, “your mother need not envy us, though introductions are always welcome. One can never have too many friends.”
Later that afternoon, as their carriage rolled through the streets towards Gracechurch Street, the three ladies spoke of their pleasant encounter with Louisa Hurst.
“I should not have been surprised,” Jane said. “Her husband did apologise at the theatre, and, she tried, unsuccessfully, to rein in her sister’s excessive rudeness.”
“True, she was the Kitty to her own Lydia.”
“Yes! How did I not see that?”
“Last autumn, so much happened in the space of six short weeks. Mr. Bingley took possession of Netherfield, followed by the arrival of the militia. From then on, Meryton’s social calendar became filled with dinners, afternoon teas, and impromptu dancing, culminating with the arrival of Mr. Collins and Mr. Bingley’s ball.
You and I could barely keep up with all the goings on, let alone decipher the relationship between two sisters who actively loathed us. ”
“Mrs. Hurst did not loathe us,” Jane reminded Elizabeth.
“At the time, we did not know that. She most definitely parroted her sister’s rude behaviour and derided our family. You forget that I had to suffer their company for four days whilst you gracefully reclined in a comfortable bed.”
“Gracefully reclined?” Jane emitted what could only be called a longsuffering sigh. “I suffered a fever for two days, my throat became raw from coughing, and my nose was stuffed to the point that I could not breathe easily, and you say I reclined gracefully.”
“My dear sister,” Elizabeth teased. “You could be covered in pustules from the black plague, and you would still remain beautiful. So, yes, you reclined gracefully.”
“You are a terrible sister,” Jane teased.
“And yet, you adore me,” Elizabeth answered back.
“Yes, you harridan in an elegant bonnet. I adore you.”