CHAPTER FOUR
If she continued with these disturbing reveries, Lizzy supposed she might go mad. Something had to be done. But what could possibly purge these upsetting fantasies?
Not daring to return to sleep, she rose from bed and went to the sideboard where she splashed water from a pitcher onto her face.
She took several long breaths and decided that some strenuous exercise might expel the distress.
When the others had begun to stir an hour after dawn’s arrival, Lizzy had all but dressed herself save for a few pins required of her gown.
The party at the Parsonage had diminished by one for Sir William had stayed only a week at Hunsford, assured that his daughter was most comfortably settled and possessed of such a husband and such a neighbour as were not often met with.
While Sir William was with them, Mr. Collins devoted his morning to driving him out in his gig, and showing him the country.
After his departure, the whole family returned to their usual employments, and Lizzy was thankful to find that they did not see more of her cousin by the alteration.
He spent most of the time between breakfast and dinner at work in the garden, reading and writing, and looking out of the window in his own book-room, which fronted the road.
The room in which the ladies sat was backwards.
Lizzy had at first rather wondered that Charlotte should not prefer the dining-parlour for common use.
It was a better sized room, and had a more pleasant aspect, but she soon saw that her friend had an excellent reason for what she did, for Mr. Collins would undoubtedly have been much less in his own apartment, had they sat in one equally lively, and she gave Charlotte credit for the arrangement.
From the drawing-room they could distinguish nothing in the lane, and were indebted to Mr. Collins for the knowledge of what carriages went along, and how often especially Miss de Bourgh drove by in her phaeton, which he never failed coming to inform them of, though it happened almost every day.
She not unfrequently stopped at the Parsonage and had a few minutes' conversation with Charlotte, but was scarcely ever prevailed upon to get out.
Now and then they were honoured with a call from her ladyship, and nothing escaped her observation during these visits.
She examined into their employments, looked at their work, and advised them to do it differently, found fault with the arrangement of the furniture, detected the housemaid in negligence; and if she accepted any refreshment, seemed to do it only for the sake of finding out that Mrs. Collins's joints of meat were too large for her family.
Lizzy soon perceived, that though this great lady was not in commission of the peace of the county, she was a most active magistrate in her own parish, the minutest concerns of which were carried to her by Mr. Collins.
Whenever any of the cottagers were disposed to be quarrelsome, discontented, or too poor, she sallied forth into the village to settle their differences, silence their complaints, and scold them into harmony and plenty.
With the dream still clinging to her, Lizzy was glad to hear that Mr. Collins and Charlotte were to visit Lady Catherine.
Maria opted to stay at the parsonage and tend to her embroidery, leaving Lizzy the option to go for a walk for as long as needed, and she expected she would require a very lengthy stroll to dispel the disquiet in her body.
The weather, being uncommonly warm for early spring, complied. Lizzy took her favourite walk along an open grove that edged that side of the park where there was a nice sheltered path, which no one seemed to value but herself, and where she felt beyond the reach of Lady Catherine's curiosity.
She had walked a good two hours, at a brisk pace so as to discourage her from dwelling upon unwanted thoughts, and found herself on the far side of the parish before contemplating that she ought to head back.
The path she had taken wound through a small woodland and down a rocky knoll, concluding at a dirt road.
A hill rose on the other side of the road, and, desiring to see what sort of vista could be availed from its crown, she decided to make her way down the knoll toward the road.
Her slippers, comfortable but worn, made for a precarious descent.
One foot slipped along a level rock, causing her to lose her balance and tumble the rest of the way to the road.
Though jarred, she picked herself up and was grateful that she had sustained no serious injury, only a few scrapes against her arms and legs, and a bruise upon her buttock where she had struck a rock.
She was brushing the dirt from her muslin when a curricle came along. It stopped beside her.
“Are you all right, my dear?” the driver asked.
Lizzy turned her attention from the smart-looking vehicle and near identical bays to the driver, a handsome woman with a wide-brimmed hat, beneath which her golden locks framed her countenance in romantic wisps.
The tone of her skin and the set of her bones suggested a woman of at least five and thirty in years, but her eyes radiated with youthful energy.
She wore a stylish pin-striped gown and cashmere shawl.
“I lost my footing and took a tumble, but my pride sustained the greater injury,” Lizzy replied.
“I think it no minor fall. You’ve torn your sleeve.”
Lizzy looked and found the rip beneath one of her arms, along with an abrasion.
“Come,” the driver said, “I live but a short ride from here. You may attend yourself there.”
“You are very kind, but I can make it back to Hunsford Parsonage without difficulty.”
“Hunsford Parsonage?” The woman looked Lizzy over. “On foot?”
“I am accustomed to walking long distances. In fact, I greatly enjoy it.”
The woman shook her head. “That is all well and good, but I would rather you did not upset me by refusing my offer.”
Lizzy was ready to insist but the woman had spoken so firmly that Lizzy believed she really would have taken offense to any objection.
She offered Lizzy her hand, which, after a moment’s pause, Lizzy took and climbed into the curricle.
With practiced hands, the woman urged her bays into a canter.
Lizzy admired the lightness and speed of the vehicle.
Any fashionable young man would have welcomed the opportunity to drive it.
“I’ve not seen you in these parts before,” the driver commented, turning a curious eye upon Lizzy, her tone light and interested. “Are you staying at Hunsford Parsonage?”
“I am, with my cousin, Mr. Collins, and his wife, a dear friend of mine.”
“Ah, yes, he is newly married. I have had occasion to meet Mrs. Collins once or twice. He is a fortunate man to have found such a partner.”
As the woman’s assessment matched her own, Lizzy allowed the driver, in all likelihood, to be an observant and intelligent creature.
“Do you reside here in Hunsford?” Lizzy asked.
“I do. My proper name is Abigail Trenwith, but most people address me as Abby. And may I ask whom I have the pleasure of driving?”
“Elizabeth Bennet.”
“And you came by foot all this way from the Parsonage?”
“Walking is a favourite pastime of mine.”
“How delightful. I think young ladies should not shun such exertions. I know mothers who keep their daughters from any form of exercise, and I think it can cause the young women to look rather weak and sickly.”
Lizzy thought instantly of Anne de Bourgh. “I am of the same persuasion, Mrs. Trenwith.”
“Do call me Abby. You’ve no need for formalities with me.”
Surprised at the quick familiarity, Lizzy looked closer upon Abigail Trenwith, whose enviable beauty was dampened only by a darkened complexion, but Lizzy felt an instant kinship in that regard, for Mrs. Trenwith must share in her own enjoyment of being out of doors.
“Are you enjoying your stay?”
Lizzy must have hesitated one second too long, for Mrs. Trenwith continued, “You’ve no need to answer if you find me prying. My friends tell me I am far too inquisitive.”
Lizzy owned she might have found the questioning a bit intrusive, but there was such a lighthearted quality to the speech, and with no intimation of judgment, that she could not fault Mrs. Trenwith for attempting a conversation to pass the time.
“I enjoy the adventure of foreign places,” Lizzy supplied.
Mrs. Trenwith raised a brow. “Ah, then I fear your enjoyment will be limited in duration. I do not mean to cast a shadow, but there is not much more to see of Hunsford.”
“The landscape is pleasant, and the weather fine.”
They pulled up before a house as stately as that of Rosings, though Mr. Collins would surely note not as grand and with far fewer windows in the front of the house.
A footman greeted and assisted them from the curricle.
Once inside, Mrs. Trenwith installed Lizzy in the care of her housekeeper, Mrs. Singh, a short Indian woman with a cherub face, who cleansed her wound and offered to patch the tear in her sleeve.
Lizzy refused to be an imposition, replying that her shawl would cover the tear nicely until she was home and able to put needle to thread herself.
She was then led into the parlour, a room she found nicely appointed with balanced restraint compared to the ostentatious ornaments preferred by Lady Catherine.
After settling upon a settee, Lizzy continued her study of the room, trying to discern if the décor might provide some insight into her hostess.
The tidiness and cleanliness of the room only signified the presence of good house servants.
The judicious spacing of the furniture might reflect a person who valued order.
The decorative artifacts, by their form and design, revealed a partiality for the Orient.
In the end, however, Lizzy had to conclude her scrutiny a useless exercise. The room told her nothing for certain.