Recollections of Rosings

by Rebecca Ann Collins

  "There were many interesting occasions, especially after Mr and Mrs Darcy were re-admitted to Lady Catherine's circle following Georgiana Darcy's wedding and Colonel Fitzwilliam's return from India. He was a great favourite of hers and later, when he was married, he brought his wife with him. Caroline, whom her Ladyship liked, despite her father being in trade, was wonderful fun. I think we all agreed that Caroline's charm was quite irresistible, and it was clear that the colonel was deeply in love with her. I believe I did learn a great deal from both Mrs Darcy and Caroline."

  She stopped awhile to pour out more tea before continuing.

  "It was on one of those visits that Mr Darcy, whose advice Lady Catherine sought often on matters relating to her estate, urged Her Ladyship to employ a librarian. He had visited the library, which was in the East Wing of the house where Lady Catherine rarely went. Everything was locked away in cabinets and no one used the library at all. Mr Darcy declared that its great collection, which had been put together by Sir Lewis de Bourgh and his father before him, was in danger of deterioration through neglect and the lack of professional care. 'It would be a great pity to let that occur. A good librarian will enhance and preserve the value of the collection,' he advised and Her Ladyship acquiesced and set about hiring one. Which is how I first met Mr Frank Burnett."

  Becky raised an eyebrow, "The same Mr Burnett I met on my last visit? The gentleman who now works for the Rosings Trust?" she asked.

  "The same. That was so long ago, that even I am surprised that I recall so clearly all the details of our association," said Catherine.

  Sensing a story, the writer in Rebecca was agog. She asked eagerly, "And did he fall in love with you, Cathy?"

  Catherine laughed. "No, Becky, he did not. But over the years of our acquaintance, I grew to like him very much indeed. He was so different to any of the other men I had met; well read, yet modest, his demeanour was cheerful and friendly, yet never brash or boastful, and his manners were naturally pleasing, with no trace of pretension. He was for me the very epitome of what a gentleman should be. And, though I did not suppose him to be in love with me, I will admit I had reason occasionally to think that he seemed somewhat partial to me in a friendly sort of way; I cannot claim that he ever showed by word or gesture that he was more deeply attached to me than a good friend would be."

  "But, surely, Cathy, it was possible that with time, as you became more intimately acquainted, he may have done so?" Becky persisted.

  Catherine shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know what he might or might not have felt, had there been time enough for us to pursue what I thought was a most pleasant and rewarding friendship. Yet, it was not to be."

  "But why ever not?" asked Rebecca, her eyes wide with astonishment. "What was it prevented you from continuing what must surely have been a most agreeable association?"

  Catherine looked at her sister directly and said in a voice that left Rebecca in no doubt at all of her sister's opinion, "It was the intervention, albeit with the best of intentions, of others; those who had no right to interfere in my life at all. One in particular may have believed she had a responsibility to do so, having given me a home and an income of my own when Papa died and so taken the place of a parent in my young life."

  "Do you mean Lady Catherine de Bourgh?"

  "I do. Having been told of my friendship with Mr Burnett by Mrs Jenkinson, who was in truth her spy, I think, she strongly advised me against the association and later, when I appeared not to heed her advice, she forbade me to continue the friendship," Catherine said.

  "But on what grounds? Did she give you sound reasons? Were there any impediments, obstacles that could not be overcome?"

  Catherine's countenance reflected her feelings. "Obstacles? Impediments? You ask what they were? There were none bigger and more immovable than the will of Lady Catherine herself. She insisted that no good would come of it. Mr Burnett, she declared, was not of a suitable background. While he did the job he was paid to do with exemplary diligence and attended to all other duties exceedingly well, his father, she said, was a tradesman and to Lady Catherine that was an unacceptable connection."

  Seeing Rebecca's expression of disbelief, Catherine continued, allowing herself a little ironic smile as she did so.

  "Now, had his father been a clergyman or even an attorney, it might have been a little less painful to Her Ladyship. It was, in her eyes, imprudent and unlikely to lead to happiness. She left me in no doubt that a continuation of the friendship would result in his dismissal from his position and my complete estrangement from her and Rosings. And because I was too young and unable to withstand her persuasive powers, I confess I gave in and complied with her wishes."

  Rebecca had listened, more amazed by each new revelation. "And what of Mr Burnett? Did Lady Catherine forbid him too?" she asked.

  "I do not know, I have never asked him and he has never said anything to me. But there was an end to it. Consequently she removed from my life perhaps the happiest, most engaging association I have ever known."

  Rebecca felt deeply for her sister. "And tell me, Cathy, do you still regret the loss of it?"

  "If I am to be honest, I must confess that while I was quite bereft at first, I did not give it much thought for many years, especially since Mr Burnett left his position at Rosings some months later and went away to Europe; but having met him again last year, I would be less than truthful if I did not admit that I do regret the loss, Becky, I regret it very much indeed."

  It was now quite clear to Rebecca what had transpired in her sister's life.

  Catherine had been persuaded by Lady Catherine de Bourgh to relinquish the one deeply felt attachment she had had in all her young life. She could not know that her sister had suffered much pain as a result, and for many months the sadness had hung over her like a fog, shrouding everything else around her. Visits to London and Bath had done nothing to improve her outlook, and Lady Catherine had become impatient with her lack of interest in all prospects of matrimony. But Catherine had persisted, claiming she had no interest in it, having accepted the inevitability of remaining a spinster.

  It had been many years later that she had changed her mind.

  The new rector of Hunsford, a Mr Harrison, whose admiration for her performance upon the church organ and with the choir had preceded his appreciation of her character and disposition, had approached first his patron and then the lady herself to ask for her hand in marriage. Lady Catherine had approved, and Catherine, then almost twenty-nine, had accepted and married him, much to the relief of her mother. Mrs Collins had almost given up hope of seeing her eldest girl married, and the news was very welcome indeed.

  "Becky, I do not wish you to believe that I spent nine years of my life pining for Mr Burnett, because I did not. But, having known how very agreeable such an association could be, I did not find it easy to form an attachment for anyone else; for to tell you the truth, Becky, there was not another gentleman of my acquaintance who had half the attraction," said Catherine, with a degree of frankness her sister had not known before.

  "And Mr Harrison?" Becky probed.

  "Ah, my dear Mr Harrison, well that was nine years later, and when one is almost twenty-nine, the affections and attachments of nineteen seem a rather distant if sweet memory. Mr Harrison was kind, good-natured, eminently respectable, and loved me dearly, he said. Lady Catherine, on hearing of his proposal, declared him to be an excellent choice, Mama agreed, and so, my dear Becky, I accepted him and we were married."

  "And were you happy, truly happy together?" Becky asked.

  "Of course," replied Catherine.

  "But Cathy, forgive me for asking this, have you ever thought that you may have been much happier with Mr Burnett?" Becky persisted.

  Catherine's answer came without any hesitation. "I have not, because the question did not arise. Thanks to Lady Catherine, the possibility did not exist. Mr Burnett neither declared his feelings for me nor made me any offer of marriage. It would only have been
speculation, and one cannot build a dream of happiness upon that alone."

  Rebecca could not resist asking the question that had leapt into her mind no sooner had she discovered the identity of the gentleman concerned.

  "And Cathy, now that Mr Burnett is back at Rosings, do you meet often?"

  "Indeed and when we do, we meet as friends."

  "Have you spoken of the past?" she persisted.

  "If you mean do we recall our past friendship, no, not at all. But we do speak often of what Rosings used to be, before this terrible fire. Mr Burnett is desolated by the loss of so many treasures; he remembers them well and it is his hope that everything that can be saved will be preserved for posterity. But we do not dwell on the past, Becky, there are sufficient matters of today to engage our interest and much work to be done."

  "And has he given you no indication at all of what his feelings might have been all those years ago?" asked Rebecca, still unsatisfied.

  "He has not," replied Catherine, "and why should he? It is so long ago. Besides, who is to know whether he has had other attachments in the intervening years?"

  "Have you no idea at all?"

  "None, nor do I wish to know. We meet now as mature adults, friends with many shared interests. I do not hanker after the past, nor, I think, does he. Becky, I did not tell you this story to gain your sympathy because of an unhappy relinquishment over twenty years ago; rather, it was in order that I might draw your attention to the lessons we might take from the experience that interference in another's life is rarely beneficial and not recommended.

  "We, Mr Burnett and I, were neither of us given the opportunity of ever discovering how much or how little we cared—how well we may have come to love each other and how happy we might have been together—only because of the gratuitous interference of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. That her intentions may have been honourable is of little matter; her intrusion into my life brought me only great sadness at the time. I cannot say how it affected Mr Burnett, but judging from the manner in which he responded at the time, he was, at the very least, disappointed."

  Taking her sister's hand, she added gently, "Dear Becky, it is from this painful experience that I have learned the lesson which I ask you to understand too: that I will never permit anyone, not even you, to do likewise to my daughter and deny her the right to make her own choice in life."

  Rebecca nodded, comprehending at last the depth of feeling that had caused her sister to resist all her attempts to thwart Lilian's engagement to Mr Adams.

  "This may not be the best match Lilian can make, but it is the one she has chosen to make, because they love each other, and having examined all the circumstances, I can see no good reason to oppose it."

  Once more, Rebecca nodded her acceptance and she could not hide the tears that filled her eyes as she rose and embraced her sister.

  Shortly afterwards, the maid came to say that Miss Lilian and Mr Adams had returned and were in the parlour, at which the sisters went downstairs.

  Making a deliberate attempt to remedy the situation after that morning's contretemps, Rebecca greeted the couple and made much of wishing them every happiness. She was, she said, happy to have met them together to convey her congratulations, for she was leaving on the morrow for London and intended thereafter to return home to Derbyshire, where she would spend the rest of the Summer.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Catherine could not explain why she had set out to walk through the woods to Rosings instead of taking the path that led from the main gate to the house.

  It was not that she had made a deliberate decision; indeed she had not given it any thought at all. After Rebecca had left for the station, she had found herself feeling nostalgic and unaccountably dejected. A walk in the woods always did her good and it being a particularly fine day, she had set off alone.

  Reaching the main gateway to Rosings, she had stood for some time gazing at the gutted remains of the West Wing of the great mansion—blackened walls and smoke-stained windows hung perilously above what had been the grandest rose garden in the south of England. Not even at Pemberley, whose grounds were among the finest in the country, had she seen such a variety of blooms, with such hues and scents that delighted the eye and filled the air at Rosings Park with their fragrance. Ironically, many of the roses had survived the fire and, with the Spring rains and the Summer sun, were in bloom again. Catherine found them irresistible.

  Even as she gazed upon the display they made below the stone steps leading from the house, she remembered how often she had come out there to collect the blooms to fill the bowls and vases for Lady Catherine. It had been her special task for many years and it was one she had loved.

  Reaching into the pocket of her gown, she found a small pair of scissors; not very suitable for the job but they would have to do, she thought, and without further ado, she crossed the paved courtyard and entered the rose garden. There, with the scent of the roses all around her, she reached up to pick some. As she pulled down one of the tall canes, there were footsteps behind her and before she could look round, Frank Burnett said, "They were always your favourite, were they not?"

  Startled, Catherine leapt away from the bush, letting go of the branch, which sprang back and he, stepping up, pulled it down again.

  "Here, let me," he said and taking out a pocket knife, neatly sliced through the woody stems. Working quickly, he gathered a dozen or so of the best blooms, shearing away the thorns as he did so, and handed them to her.

  She thanked him as she accepted them, but took them awkwardly for she wore no gloves, nor had she a basket to carry them in. Seeing her difficulty, he said, "Wait here, I shall be back in a moment," and raced swiftly up the steps into the house, returning with an old cane basket that had clearly seen better days.

  "This one escaped the fire—it was stored in a cupboard under the service stairs together with a bag of gardening tools," he said, holding it out to her.

  Catherine, who had hitherto been standing still as if petrified, suddenly smiled, delighted by his find.

  "I cannot believe it, why it is the very same basket I used whenever I came out to pick the roses for Her Ladyship," she cried. "How could it have survived all this time? It must be all of twenty-five years or more."

  He smiled and expressed surprise. "I cannot believe it is so long ago, it seems only yesterday that I found you here, in the rain, searching for a pair of missing secateurs! You had been gathering roses for Her Ladyship, I think?"

  Catherine was so astonished at his recollection, she could not say a word for a few minutes.

  "Have you forgotten?" he asked and then as if to jog her memory, added, "I recall it was the day on which Lady Catherine first invited me to dine at Rosings."

  By this time, Catherine had recovered her composure sufficiently to say, "I have not forgotten, indeed I remember your kindness in returning despite the rain to retrieve the secateurs for me."

  Matching his recollection with hers, she added, "And yes, I do recall that you dined with us that evening—Dr Halliday was visiting from Oxford, to plead the cause of one of his theology students, who was an applicant for a minor living on the Rosings estate. You were invited because Lady Catherine was keen to have someone who could converse confidently with him."

  At that, Frank Burnett laughed. "I do not recall conversing confidently at all—I was very much daunted by the great man's reputation. He was an eminent dean, as I recall. But I do remember that it was a very pleasant evening altogether; the dinner was excellent and afterwards, you played the pianoforte to entertain us."

  Catherine could not believe he had such a detailed recollection of the occasion after so many years had passed. She was still standing in the middle of the rose garden, looking rather confused and wondering what to do next, when he interrupted her thoughts.

  "You look tired, will you not sit down?" he said and, taking the basket from her, led her to a stone seat beside a spreading elm. She was grateful for the respite and relaxed awhile.
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  "Were you on your way to Hunsford?" he asked, by way of making conversation.

  She said no, she had been out walking and had come this way almost without knowing it.

  "I did not mean to go into the rose garden at all. It was such a pleasant day, I thought after my sister had left to catch her train that I would enjoy the walk through the grounds. When I passed the entrance and saw the house, I stopped… it had been my home for so many years… it was hard not to stop and recall how it had been and then, I saw the roses all in bloom and could not resist them."

  They laughed together then and he said, "Well, I am glad you came by and that I found you here."

  She looked up at him, surprised as much by his tone as his words.

  "I have been through these gardens many times and they hold memories for me too—though, I am sure, not as many nor as poignant as yours, considering the relatively short period I spent at Rosings," he said and as he looked at her, Catherine could not help thinking there was more feeling in his voice than she might have expected.