Chapter 36 Visitors
Visitors
Well,” said Mamma, settling into the carriage with a sigh, “at least we are away from them .”
I did little more than nod. So much carriage travel in the last two years may have allowed me to see a bit of the world at last, but it has also educated me thoroughly upon how much I dislike carriage travel.
Our poor carriage is getting worn out, too, and Papa says we’ve not the money to replace it, so every ride is more jarring than the one before.
I have learned to carry a small discreet bag with me, in case I am sick on the king’s highway.
It helped a little to look out the window, but I did not much like that, either. Sometimes when I was tired I saw things.
“They were very kind to have us to visit,” I said automatically.
“Hah! Kind!” Mamma sniffed. “I believe that Mr. Collins only agreed to take us at all so he could show off those nasty creatures.”
“You mean his sons?”
“I shall not dignify them with the name until they can manage to go three minutes without whacking someone with a toy sword, and someone wipes their noses. Eugh!” She shuddered. “I am monstrous glad that I never had any sons myself. I’d have hated it.”
“Yes, Mamma.” Every problem my mother had ever concerned herself with would have been solved by birthing a son, as well she knew.
But in this case I was too tired to resist her efforts to rewrite history.
Besides, I shared her dislike. Three weeks with the Collinses had made me, too, wish that I could rewrite history, so that it contained fewer Collinses.
Hello again, Harry. I suppose you wonder why I take up my pen again after all this time—and, perhaps, why I voluntarily spent more than a fortnight in the home of Mr. Collins. Read on.
After the fire, my father had taken lodgings for himself, me, and my mother in Bath. Of course my elder sisters offered to have us, but my father refused, having a horror of accepting favors out of the dark suspicion that he would one day be expected to offer one in return.
Mamma was happy enough to go to Bath, but our lodgings were unfashionable, which vexed her, and too small, which vexed us all.
Such peace as we had enjoyed at Longbourn, it became clear, had been a result of all of us being able to retreat to different sides of the house and close the doors. Besides, I had a job to complete.
I now divided my time between our Bath apartments, making medicine for my father, and visiting friends and relations.
Most of these were very surprised to hear from me, as I had never been an enthusiastic visitor before, but now that I was sister-in-law to two of England’s richest men, I had only to drop the slightest hint and an invitation to visit would promptly be issued.
Mamma, who loved Bath but hated our lodgings, usually accompanied me.
And how did I choose which invitations to solicit? Anywhere there were rumors. A new factory in town. Disappearances. Gossip of an eligible bachelor with dark hair and an attractive Byronic manner. Uneasy mutterings about blood.
I was hunting Pike.
It had expanded my skill set in surprising ways.
I found that, though I still went awkward and still at parties, I could chatter away charmingly if it was necessary to draw someone out who might have a nugget of useful news.
I could dance all the dances, though my head and jaw ached with the effort of not counting, and I could dance them flawlessly while smiling.
I could play every card game that a hostess could conceivably want a fourth for, and had learnt to keep sweets about my person to bribe any children of the house who might be inclined to resent an intruder.
In other words, I was now essentially the poor relation I had always feared becoming. I was better at it than I expected, but I hated it even more than I expected, too.
Once or twice I nearly caught up to him. Each time he managed to escape me.
His need to make his own medicines made him easier to track, but he was still stronger and faster than I, and he had all the advantages of being wealthy and male. He had no need to wait on invitations. He could just go.
I was not poor, exactly, and the reflected glory of the Darcy connection certainly helped, but most of Papa’s money went into repairs at Longbourn, and the allowance he gave us barely stretched to cover travel.
Our life on the road was uncomfortable, all fixed smiles and pretending not to be cold or tired or lonely or about to be genteelly sick in a bag.
The Collins visit had been the worst of them all.
Mr. Collins had never recovered from Lizzy’s slight, and he did indeed thrust his two odious sons upon our notice at every opportunity.
Sons were the only area where he had excelled and we had not, and so Thaddeus and Arthur were continually paraded before us.
“He is just proud of his family,” I said weakly.
“Ha! And Charlotte!” Mamma shook her head. “I bounced that girl on my knee. And now she has the nerve to scold me!”
“She was just being sympathetic, Mamma. Everyone agrees the fire was terrible.”
“She was not being sympathetic; she was scolding. She asked me where I kept my curling iron!”
Charlotte Collins had not exactly scolded my mother.
However, it was true that her repeated expressions of horror contained, from time to time, a hint of proprietary reproof.
That such damage should be allowed to come to the future home of the Collinses was, she implied, something we ought to apologize to them for.
All in all, it was almost a relief to be getting queasy in the carriage again. At least when I was here I did not have to plaster on a smile. I could, for a little while, speak freely.
Which reminded me…
With an effort, I focused on my mother. “Mamma, I have been meaning to ask you—is that a new bonnet?”
She looked guilty. One hand flew to her head, as if to hide the offending garment, which was far too large and garish to be so hidden. “Er… is it? I forget.”
I sighed. “You know it is.”
“Well, and why not? We are going to Pemberley. We shall have no expenses there.”
“You know very well that we shall have to tip the Pemberley servants who wait upon us.”
Mamma waved this off. “Ridiculous. I am quite sure Mr. and Mrs. Darcy are more than able to pay their own servants. Why should they expect us to do so?”
I bit back a sharp retort. I had a little money held back.
I had hoped to put it toward our luncheon on the road.
Ah, well, I could go hungry. Mamma knew perfectly well that one must tip the servants in great houses, but she was tired, and if she ever put her foot down and refused to travel with me anymore then my pursuit of Pike would be at an end.
That must not be. I am the reason he is still at large.
In truth, I was now used to giving up such small comforts as regular meals to keep Mamma happy. It was our destination that was making me snappish.
Pemberley.
This was not a visit in pursuit of Pike.
He had not been seen in Derbyshire. No, this was a true social visit.
The idea of having to do my gushing-visitor act for my own sister made me want to hit something.
And, of course, at Pemberley I would find her .
When our carriage wheels whispered up Pemberley’s wide white drive, I promised myself that I would find an excuse for leaving as soon as possible.
As Pemberley itself swung artfully into view, framed by the surrounding hills and trees to make one’s approach equally picturesque and terrifying, I screwed up my sweaty palms in my skirt.
The grip around my heart eased a little when I saw that there was only one figure waiting on the steps for us, and it was Lizzy.
She had changed little in the years since I had seen her, just grown a little rounder, which made her prettier than ever.
When we alighted she gave a glad cry and, to my surprise, hugged us both with what seemed to be genuine delight.
“Come in, come in,” she said. “I am sure you are dying to refresh yourselves, but do have a drop of tea as soon as you have changed. Georgiana sends her apologies. She has got the headache. Oh, it is so long since I have seen you both!”
As she led us down a hall that would have admitted a coach and four without difficulty, she continued chatting away happily at a speed that would have put Lydia to shame.
When she married Darcy, Lizzy quitted Longbourn with barely disguised relief, and life at Pemberley appeared to suit her.
Her dress was a simple one in the Grecian style, but very finely made.
Her hair, too, was simple, but Mamma’s maid never could have dressed it so neatly and elegantly.
She was undoubtedly a fine lady now. Yet I suppose even fine ladies find they miss their mothers.
I began to discern the reason for this unexpected warmth.
“I’ve had no callers these five days,” she said.
“My husband has been away tending to business in town, Georgiana is always resting or reading, and I am stuck here in Pemberley awaiting my next confinement.” She brushed a hand fondly over her belly.
“Of course, playing with little Charlotte is a joy, but a child of two is hardly company, and because I am Mrs. Darcy, no one hereabouts will have a comfortable chat with me.” She sighed.
“I had high hopes for Mrs. Andrews, our vicar’s new wife, for I had heard she was an educated woman, but she is so afraid of me that her teacup rattles in its saucer because she is trembling so hard. ”
“No fear of that ,” said Mamma. “ I shall never be afraid of you, Miss Lizzy. And I call it very ill-bred of this Mrs. Andrews to behave in such a ridiculous manner before Mrs. Darcy of Pemberley.”