CHAPTER FIVE
Despite the clouds in the sky the following morning, Lizzy determined that she would still attempt a walk to escape her cousin, who, having yet to receive from her agreement or a manner of assurance that satisfied him, had often revisited the subject of Mrs. Trenwith.
“Those that would feign goodness are often accomplished at hiding their immorality,” Mr. Collins had said.
“That is a strong statement! What crime has this woman committed?” Lizzy had asked.
Mr. Collins had bristled but could not, or would not, say.
“None that we are aware of,” Charlotte had supplied, “but a strange mystery hovers about her and Trenwith House. Her servants are never known to gossip.”
“That only speaks to their loyalty and integrity—and the good judgment of Mrs. Trenwith in employing them.”
“She attends church sparingly,” Mr. Collins said. “I suspect her a heretic.”
That Mrs. Trenwith’s absence from church should offend Mr. Collins surprised Lizzy none at all. Perhaps that was the source of the ‘strange mystery.’
“We would all do well to stay our distance,” Mr. Collins had affirmed.
Lizzy had little time to reflect upon her cousin’s cautions for the dreaded person herself now appeared before the Parsonage.
Mrs. Trenwith, wearing her usual radiance, drew up in her curricle. Though Lizzy was certain Mr. Collins was aware of the visitor, as he made it a point to know of every arrival before anyone else, he did not come out of the house.
“I was making a delivery of pamphlets and thought to come and see how you fared,” Mrs. Trenwith explained.
Abby was dressed fashionably in a calico en neglige, a bonnet trimmed with green ribbon and a large ostrich plume, and a long string of beads, but the item that caught Lizzy’s eye was a medallion with an image of a black slave upon bended knee and the inscription Am I not a Man and a Brother?
Seeing the direction of her gaze, Abby said, “Yes, I am a firm believer of abolitionism. Slavery is a dreadful institution that ought to be rejected throughout the British Empire.”
That Abby would offer her views so readily on such a polemical topic surprised Lizzy, whose social circles shied away from political discourse, especially in the presence of the fair sex.
Abby peered at the house. Lizzy thought she saw a movement in the window.
“I would call upon the parson and Mrs. Collins, but trust me when I say I am doing them a favor by making my stay as short as possible. Are you about to take a walk?”
Lizzy nodded. Abby looked up at the cloudy sky.
“It is certain to rain.”
“I intended a short walk before the weather turned.”
“Do you enjoying reading, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Exceedingly.”
“I have in my library a large collection of books from a bookstore that had shuttered its business, and mean to sort through the inventory and make a donation to the orphan asylum for girls. Could I impose upon you to assist in the task?”
“It would be no imposition.”
Lizzy went back inside the house to inform Charlotte and Mr. Collins. “Surely neither you nor Lady Catherine would object to this act of goodwill?”
“Lady Catherine is a benefactress of the orphan asylum as well,” Mr. Collins replied. “As her ladyship exemplifies philanthropy, she would have taken action if she saw a great need for additional charity.”
“The books would do no good sitting in the Trenwith library.”
“I think it rather ill of Mrs. Trenwith to engage your assistance in her housecleaning.”
“I, too, am a good judge of character. If there is anything nefarious in the way of Mrs. Trenwith, I shall discern it soon enough.”
“What if you are not returned when Miss de Bourgh passes by?” Maria asked.
“I do not think she would venture out in such questionable weather, and she would hardly notice my absence as she clearly prefers the conversation of Charlotte or yourself.”
Nothing could be said to deter Lizzy. Mr. Collins, looking more displeased than the moment when he had finally realized Lizzy was never going to accept his hand in marriage, declared a need to work in the garden, but not before saying,
“You will only confirm Lady Catherine’s appraisal and find you have wasted a good many hours in the effort. I hope in the future you will see the efficiency of using her judgment for your own.”
Returning outside, Lizzy eagerly climbed into the curricle.
“You may think it rude of me not to have alighted,” Abby said, “but perhaps Mr. Collins has shared with you that he does not welcome my presence.”
With such knowledge, it was brazen of her to call at the Parsonage, Lizzy thought. Then she remembered that Mrs. Trenwith did not concern herself much with the opinions of others.
“As he knows me little, his sentiments toward me are more a reflection of the attitude of Catherine de Bourgh,” Abby continued.
Lizzy perfectly understood why Lady Catherine would disapprove of the free and outspoken Mrs. Trenwith.
“I have not heard her to mention you, but Mr. Collins did note your absenteeism from church,” Lizzy replied.
“No doubt he considers me a great heretic.”
The idea amused them both, and they shared a smile.
“You must be aware, my dear Elizabeth that you risk censure in your association with me.”
“Yes,” Lizzy contemplated, “and perhaps it is selfish of me to seek your company for I have certainly upset Mr. Collins and perhaps Charlotte, too. I hope that Lady Catherine is dispassionate enough not to fault Mr. and Mrs. Collins for my errant ways. I have no fear of her wrath and would prefer it to fall upon my shoulders alone.”
“I should not have placed you in such a difficult position and will call upon you at the Parsonage no more, though I admit that, on occasion, as with this morning, I am given to the whims of mischief such that I cannot refrain from perturbing Mr. Collins or even Lady de Bourgh. Mistake me not, she is to be respected in her right, but we are cut from different cloths.”
“I think you would get on very well with my father,” Lizzy remarked.
“Would I? Well, if he is half as agreeable as you, my dear, I should think you correct.”
Back at Trenwith House, Abby showed Lizzy into the library, a splendid room stuffed to the brim with books on every wall, save for the one with the large bay window.
Lizzy could see herself spending hours engrossed in a book while curled before the hearth or among the cushions at the window or lounging on the long sofa.
The inventory Mrs. Trenwith had acquired, stacked upon the tables and in boxes upon the floor, consisted of diverse genres.
Lizzy and Abby combed through everything from John Milton to Adam Smith to find books appropriate for young girls.
Lizzy found there were few works of great literature that Abby could not comment upon.
Mrs. Trenwith was certainly the most well-read woman she had ever come across.
Lizzy had just finished setting aside copies of The Fables of Aesop when Mr. Singh entered to inform Mrs. Trenwith that a Mrs. White had come to call and was most anxious to speak with Mrs. Trenwith.
“This may take some time,” Abby informed Lizzy, “but I think a respite is required. You have been most industrious.”
“I would have gone at a faster pace had I not been drawn to read a bit for myself,” Lizzy admitted.
After Abby had left, Lizzy decided to stretch her legs by walking about the room and perusing what books the Trenwiths kept.
She found a section of literature devoted to the abolition of slavery, with the writings of Olaudah Equiano and Granville Sharp, and a section on philosophy, with the works of John Locke and Mary Wollstonecraft, among others.
The wall on the far side of the room began with rows of poetry at the bottom, followed by the dramas of Ben Johnson and Christopher Marlow, and on the top shelves, inaccessible without aid, were the writings of the Comte de Mirabeau, Rétif de la Bretonne, and the Marquis de Sade.
Lizzy narrowed her eyes, unsure that she had seen correctly.
She pulled a chair from the writing table and used it as a stepstool.
She had not been mistaken. Reaching for one of the books, she pulled out a copy of Justine ou Les Malheurs de la vertu.
Why did the Trenwith library have a work Napoleon deemed “the most abominable book ever engendered by the most depraved imagination?” Was Abby aware of the book? If so, did she know its contents?
Like Pandora holding a pithos, Lizzy weighed the book in her hands. What little she knew of the book and its author suggested the substance to be far more offensive than anything found in Fanny Hill. Did she dare open the cover?
After a moment of hesitation, she opened the book to an arbitrary page and glanced at a passage:
The third bade me mount upon and straddle two somewhat separated chairs and, seating himself betwixt them, excited by Dubois, lying in his arms, he had me bend until his mouth was directly below the temple of nature; never will you imagine, Mme.
, what this obscene mortal took it into his head to do; willy-nilly, I was obliged to satisfy his every need…
Just Heaven! what man, no matter how depraved, can taste an instant of pleasure in such things…
I did what he wished, inundated him, and my complete submission procured this vile man an intoxication of which he was incapable without this infamy.
“That were no gentle reading.”
Nearly falling off the chair, Lizzy turned to see Mrs. Trenwith at the threshold. Though her hostess ought to have been the more embarrassed party for being in possession of such a wicked article, Lizzy felt as if she were the child caught pilfering from the jar of biscuits. Her cheeks coloured.
“Are you mortified, my dear?”
The question confirmed to Lizzy that Abby was fully aware of the book’s presence in her house. Lizzy knew not what to make of the affirmation.
“I cannot deny my surprise, but having no direct knowledge of this novel, my response need be deferred.”
Mrs. Trenwith approached and verified the book that Lizzy held. “I would not recommend it to a novice.”
“You have read it?”
“Setting aside the outrageous events, it is a tale that exposes certain institutions—the aristocracy and the church—and doctrines that the author finds suspect. It is told with remarkable rhetoric.”
“There is intellectual value in this work?” Lizzy asked in disbelief.
“Indeed, though it is no easy matter to stomach the sordid violence, especially as the story begins with a maiden but twelve years of age. My first attempt to read de Sade resulted in such disgust that my sleep was disturbed for several days thereafter.”
Lizzy stared at the book, still attempting to come to some estimation of it all.
Was this the ‘strange mystery to which Charlotte had alluded? Perhaps she should have appreciated the warnings of her cousin. His objection was not unwarranted. And yet, the frank admittance of Mrs. Trenwith, as if reading Justine was no more scandalous than perusing a copy of the Lady’s Magazine, confused Lizzy.
“I have no designs to debase your reputation through my association,” Abby said with a careful gaze upon Lizzy. “I should take no offense if you wished to take your leave of me. Lee can return you to the Parsonage, and I promise never to disturb you again.”
Torn, Lizzy said nothing. She had never met anyone like Abby Trenwith before and was still intrigued with the woman, to a greater degree in light of the current discovery.
Her instincts told her that Mrs. Trenwith was sincere and without artifice, but was it possible for such a commendable quality to reside in an immoral bosom?
“You referred to me earlier as a ‘novice,’” Lizzy said, buying time to sort through her thoughts, “Though I have never read the likes of Mirabeau or de Sade, I consider myself well read.”
“I did not mean a novice in reading but a novice in the contemplation or pursuit of the libidinous.”
Lizzy caught her breath, and her pulse quickened. Fanny Hill weighed heavily upon her mind. Having been completely alone in her experience, she had a sudden desire to confess. Surely Abby could be that perfect confidante without castigation?
“I have read John Cleland,” Lizzy blurted.
Abby paused, then her eyes took on a sparkle. “How wonderful!”
Lizzy released her breath.
“Provided you enjoyed it,” Abby added. “Did you?”
Blushing, Lizzy nodded. She had never thought she would find herself conversing of Fanny Hill, and with someone practically a stranger.
“My dear, do not be abashed in my presence! The forces of lust reside in us all. No animal is without it, or we would see a quick end to our species.”
“Yes, but…it is a failing, if not a sin, to allow the corporeal to govern us.”
“I will be the libertine in your eyes, but I see more harm in the suppression of our natural urges. Whom have you harmed by reading Fanny Hill?”
“My soul might prove the ultimate victim.”
“A belief I find quite antediluvian compared to the canons of other civilizations far older than ours.”
Was this why Mrs. Trenwith failed to attend church? She was both a heretic and a libertine. Lizzy now fully comprehended the reservations Mr. Collins had of the woman.
“I have said too much,” Abby noted of Lizzy’s pensiveness. “I have known you but a day, Miss Elizabeth, but am struck by your manners and intelligence. It would be deceitful of me to allow you to develop a friendship with me without knowing the entire truth.”
Lizzy raised her brows. There was more?
Abby took Justine from her hands and placed it upon a table. “Come. I have something to show you.”