by Jann Rowland
“I understand you are from Hertfordshire, Mr. Bennet.”
It was clear that her father did not know what to make of the lady, but he replied readily enough. “We live some few miles north of London, your ladyship, not far from Luton and Stevenage.”
“Ah yes, of course. Then you must live just west of the Great North Road.”
“That is correct.” Mr. Bennet paused. “Are you familiar with the area?”
“Not in particular, I must confess. But my brother is the Earl of Matlock and his estate is in Derbyshire. Thus, I have traveled that road many times.”
Their conversation continued on such subjects for some moments, and her ladyship made every attempt to include all the Bennets in it, though there were times that she directed pointed looks at Lydia and Kitty, when their giggling strained her forbearance. It was not long, however, before Lady Catherine turned to Mrs. Bennet, and the conversation was carried on primarily between the two of them. Though Elizabeth might not have been able to credit it, it seemed like the two ladies found a measure of rapport with each other.
“It is difficult,” said Mrs. Bennet, after they had been talking together for some moments. “I have five daughters all unmarried, as I am certain Mr. Collins has informed you. Through no fault of ours, the estate is entailed away from my daughters, and I must ensure they are all married as expeditiously as may be arranged.”
“You have my apologies, madam,” said Mr. Collins, intruding upon their conversation. “I am keenly aware of being the means of injuring your excellent daughters, though unwittingly, and I . . .”
“Yes, yes, we all understand that,” said Lady Catherine. Mr. Collins immediately put a hand in front of his mouth, as if speaking a word over Lady Catherine might bring a penalty of death. “No one is accusing you, Mr. Collins. Mrs. Bennet’s concerns are valid.”
“Of course, I was not condemning Mr. Collins,” said Mrs. Bennet, though the glare she snuck at the man seemed to bely her words. “But it is hard, as the estate is not large, and consequently, my girls do not have much fortune to their names.”
“I sympathize with you, Mrs. Bennet. I have only one daughter to see married, and though she can be a difficult girl, I cannot imagine what I might feel if I had five to care for.”
“Exactly.” Mrs. Bennet turned to her husband and regarded him, and Elizabeth was forced to confess her mother’s expression bordered on smugness. “You see, Mr. Bennet. Lady Catherine understands me perfectly.”
“Indeed, she does,” replied Mr. Bennet, looking perplexed.
“Then perhaps we should put our heads together and see what we can do to ensure they marry well, Mrs. Bennet.”
Eyes alight with pleasure, Mrs. Bennet nodded eagerly. “I would be happy to accept the assistance. I am certain your ladyship knows many eligible gentlemen who are in need of wives.”
Lady Catherine smiled faintly and then changed the subject. The two continued their conversation for some time, and the longer Elizabeth listened to it, the less she was able to understand it. Her mother, she had long known, was not blessed with an excess of intelligence, but it was evident that Lady Catherine was not similarly afflicted. But for some strange reason, she seemed to enjoy Mrs. Bennet’s company, and she spoke with her for some time with perfect ease and even a certain level of eagerness.
At length, however, the lady changed the subject, and Elizabeth was convinced she had some purpose in mind when she spoke again.
“And how do you find Mr. Collins’s parsonage?”
“It appears to be a comfortable enough home,” was Mrs. Bennet’s diplomatic reply.
The lady shook her head in what seemed like impatience. “It is, indeed. When it was built, my husband took care to ensure it was constructed with care and with attention to detail. I doubt there are many parsonages in Kent which are as solidly built. But would you not consider it a little small to house a family of seven in addition to Mr. Collins?”
His surprise evident, Mr. Bennet interjected: “I suppose it is. But we are quite comfortable, I assure you, and quite grateful to my cousin for his invitation.”
“And I was ever so happy to make it, Cousin,” interjected Mr. Collins. “For I assure you that no one has more appreciation for family than Lady Catherine, and I have endeavored to emulate her opinions in every particular.”
Once again Lady Catherine turned an exasperated eye on Mr. Collins, and he subsided. “It is to your credit that you feel that way, Mr. Bennet,” said she. “But I cannot think that living in such confined quarters is easy. I have given some thought to this matter, and if you are willing, I should like to extend an invitation for you to stay at Rosings.”
Elizabeth gaped, wondering if she had heard the lady correctly. She could see that her father was in a similar state.
“Indeed, we have plenty of room at Rosings, for there is only Anne and I in residence, and I dare say we would be happy to have the company, for rarely do we receive visitors. And even should you stay there, you will still be close enough to visit your cousin whenever you please.”
“Lady Catherine!” exclaimed Mr. Collins, some sort of rapture seeming to have fallen over the clergyman. “Words cannot express how awed we are to be the recipients of your gracious condescension, your boundless generosity. Truly, the nobility you display with your every action is beyond comprehension.”
Lady Catherine once again turned her gaze upon Mr. Collins, and he stammered, and his speech trailed off.
“It is no great matter, Mr. Collins,” said she, keeping her eyes upon him. “I am quite happy to extend the invitation, and I suspect that given the relative sizes of our homes, the Bennets would be far more comfortable at Rosings than they are here.”
It was obvious that Mr. Collins was reluctant to contradict his patroness, but he plucked up some courage and said: “Your generous offer is most appreciated, your ladyship. But my cousin and his family are not . . . Well, let us simply say that they are quite happy to stay at Hunsford with me.”
“How say you, Mr. Bennet?” asked Lady Catherine, ignoring Mr. Collins. “It would be no trouble to host you and your family. I am quite happy to have you stay with me.”
“It is a little cramped, to be sure,” said Mr. Bennet slowly. “But we did come to visit with Mr. Collins. We would be poor guests, indeed, if we removed to your house immediately after our arrival.”
Lady Catherine nodded with evident approval. “I understand, Mr. Bennet. Then perhaps some of your family might come to Rosings, to allow those who stay more comfortable accommodations? You and your wife might remain at the parsonage, for example, and your daughters stay with me. I insist, Mr. Bennet; it shall be for the best.”
“Your ladyship is most kind,” said Mrs. Bennet, interjecting when Mr. Bennet hesitated. “I believe we would be happy to accept your kind offer. Perhaps Jane and Lizzy might stay with you? And perhaps Kitty and Lydia? As Mr. Bennet has stated, we would not wish to deprive our cousin of our presence so soon after our arrival, but if Mr. Bennet and myself stay, that should be sufficient. And Mary would be more comfortable at the parsonage I am absolutely certain.”
Elizabeth almost looked skyward at her mother’s blatant manipulation, but Lady Catherine only smiled.
“Excellent thought, Mrs. Bennet. In that case, I shall send over a carriage to convey your daughters to Rosings. And you must all come and dine with us on the morrow.”
“I am certain we shall all be excellent friends!” cried Mrs. Bennet.
Thus, to Rosings Elizabeth and her three sisters were to go, though Elizabeth could not make any sense of what had happened. But there was no time to think on it, as there were trunks to pack once again. Consequently, she dutifully climbed the stairs to her room to prepare. She could not help but wonder what else this visit had in store for her family.
Chapter III
Rosings Park was, as Mr. Collins had informed them time and time again, a very great estate. Situated on a small ris
e and surrounded by beautiful fields which would turn golden with their bounty in the summer, Elizabeth was hard pressed to think of a more idyllic scene. Here and there strands of trees stood, including a more substantial woodland to the south of the house, which promised delights she was eager to savor. And though the back gardens were a little too formal for Elizabeth’s taste, they were lovingly maintained and extensive, promising a peaceful retreat when the surrounding woods were not available due to inclement weather.
The house itself was large and built of costly materials, as evidenced by the marble staircase which assaulted the sisters’ eyes as soon as they entered the house. It only improved from there, as they were shown to a dizzying array of rooms, and from thence, to their bedrooms on the second level. And as their guide to the house’s interior, Lady Catherine showed them with evident pride in her home, but no trace of condescension or arrogance Elizabeth might have expected the great lady to display.
“Your bedchambers will each be connected to a sitting-room between,” said the lady as she showed them to their rooms. “I have arranged for Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bennet to have adjoining chambers, as well as Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia to have their own. I trust that meets with your approval?”
Though she could not imagine emulating Mr. Collins in anything, in this instance, Elizabeth was not about to gainsay her ladyship. She wondered if it would be better for her and Jane to share sitting-rooms with their younger sisters to provide a check on them. But in the end, she decided that they would be well taken care of in this instance.
“That is quite acceptable, your ladyship,” said she, when none of her sisters spoke. Indeed, they appeared quite as overwhelmed by the grandeur as Elizabeth felt herself.
“I do apologize for the décor,” said Lady Catherine, as she led them into the rooms. “I have not replaced the furnishings here since my marriage, as though they are not quite to my taste, they are still in good condition. It would be wasteful to replace them when they are still serviceable, and I am attentive to frugality in this instance. The walls and colors have been refreshed periodically as fashions change, but those updates are nothing more than cosmetic in nature.” Her ladyship paused and smiled. “As I stated, we do not often have visitors at Rosings, so the rooms are not often occupied.”
“They are lovely rooms,” replied Elizabeth, though she could see to what Lady Catherine referred. The rooms were bright and airy, and the colors were done in soft pastels and were pleasing to the eye. But the furnishings were heavy and overly ornamental, of a fashion of many years gone. But as she said, they were solid and well crafted, and if they were used as seldom as the lady suggested, there truly was no need to make changes.
When they later descended to the first floor to attend their hostess, Elizabeth noted that the principle rooms were decorated in a much more modern fashion, with furnishings more clearly fine, but of less gaudy ornamentation than what they had seen above stairs. Lady Catherine clearly understood her wealth and power and surrounded herself with luxuries accordingly. But what she chose was elegant, without proclaiming her wealth in a loud voice. Again, it was not something Elizabeth might have expected from the lady.
It was in the sitting-room that the Bennet sisters once again attended Lady Catherine, and there they were introduced to her daughter. And no two ladies who were so closely related could be so dissimilar. Lady Catherine was, as Elizabeth had noted, a tall woman, her form healthy and filled out. She was not the most beautiful woman Elizabeth had ever seen, but she was handsome, and her kindly expression rendered her all the more attractive because of it.
Miss Anne de Bourgh was obviously cut from a different cloth, however. She was a small woman, her body thin and wanting curves, her dress was too large for her and was made of a heavy fabric, which Elizabeth thought must be uncomfortable in the warmth of the room, and of colors which further subdued her pale complexion. When she was introduced to the Bennet sisters, she nodded her head only slightly, her nose seeming to be assaulted by some foul reek. It was clear that whatever haughtiness of manner Elizabeth might have expected from the daughter of an earl was instead gathered in the person of the granddaughter.
“We are pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss de Bourgh,” said Jane when they had all sat down together. “Mr. Collins has told us much of you.”
The look Miss de Bourgh returned suggested that she was quite aware of the parson’s foolishness. “Quite,” was all she said.
“You have a beautiful home,” said Elizabeth, trying to draw some reaction from the young woman. “The house is delightfully situated, and I would imagine that there is much beauty to be discovered in the woods.”
When Miss de Bourgh only sniffed and did not respond, Lady Catherine took up the office, but not before shooting a reproachful look at her daughter. “You are a lover of nature, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Oh, all Lizzy does is walk all day long,” said Lydia with a flippancy that embarrassed Elizabeth. “Sometimes I think all she does is walk or bury her nose in a book.”
“You walk, do you?” asked Miss de Bourgh, her eyebrow quirked in something resembling contempt.
“Walking is very beneficial exercise,” observed Lady Catherine, though this time her admonishing glance included both Lydia and her daughter. “I am certain there are many beauties to be found on the grounds of Rosings, and I would invite you to do so at your leisure. And if you would like to view them from a higher vantage, we have a mare or two which I will sometimes take to visit tenants. You are welcome to use them.”
“Thank you, Lady Catherine,” said Elizabeth, “but Jane is the rider. I have always preferred to use my own two legs.”
“You do not ride at all?”
Once again Lydia interjected into the conversation. “Lizzy was thrown from a horse as a child and is now deathly afraid of them.”
“That is not precisely the truth,” said Elizabeth, glaring at her younger sister. “I did fall from a horse when I was young, and as I broke my arm, it took some time before I was able to attempt it again. I am not afraid of horses and I am able to ride if necessary, but I enjoy the exercise walking provides, which I dare say riding would not.”
“Indeed, I must agree with your thoughts about walking,” said Lady Catherine, eying Lydia with clear disapproval. “At times, however, there are locations which can only be reached with ease if one rides. Perhaps once you become more familiar with Rosings, you will find it useful to ride on occasion.”
“Your ladyship is all generosity,” said Elizabeth. “I would be happy to do so, if the situation arises.”
“Excellent!” said the lady.
The conversation continued for some moments, though Miss de Bourgh did not say much, and the conversation was mostly carried on by Elizabeth and Lady Catherine, with Jane’s assistance, and the occasional comment, almost always interjected by speaking over someone else, by Elizabeth’s younger sisters. The more comments they made, the more severe Lady Catherine’s expression became.
After some length of time, Elizabeth indicated her desire to explore some of the back gardens of Rosings, and Jane agreed to accompany her. Miss de Bourgh left without stating her intentions, but Elizabeth suspected that she simply wished to be away from such uncouth company. But before Lydia and Kitty could rise to depart, Lady Catherine bid them stay with a softly spoken word.
“Miss Kitty, Miss Lydia, you will oblige me for a moment. There is something of which I would speak to you.”
Elizabeth and Jane shared a glance at Lady Catherine’s imperious demand, proving the lady could be commanding when she felt the need. Neither said anything, however, content to simply excuse themselves for their walk. But when they left the room, Elizabeth turned an amused eye on her sister, quirking her brow and inviting Jane to speak first.
“What do you suppose she means to say to them?”
Elizabeth chuckled. “I know not, but I would dearly love to hear it. I did notice her countenance become positivel
y forbidding as evidence of our sisters’ manners presented itself.”
“Then I wish her well. Lord knows we have never had any luck.”
To that, Elizabeth could only agree.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh considered herself a congenial lady, one who was easily pleased, and one who treated all and sundry with respect and consideration. Indeed, she had been governed in this behavior by her younger sister, Anne, who had been a model of gentility throughout the course of her life. Anne had been so gentle, so beloved by all who knew her. Lady Catherine missed her exceedingly, hardly a day passing that she did not think of her sister.
Jane Bennet reminded Lady Catherine of Lady Anne Darcy: they were both beautiful, both had the most genteel manners, and they even shared some of the same mannerisms. Having the girl here in her house might have caused Lady Catherine to feel the pain of loss for the sister, gone these twelve years, but instead she chose to observe the woman and delight in the echoes of her lost sister, though in truth, they looked nothing alike.
But if there was one thing that Lady Catherine could not abide, it was poor behavior of ignorant girls who were not sensible of their own place in the world—girls who were not sensible of their vulnerability. Anne had always been a trial, not because of any overt poor behavior, but because she insisted upon comporting herself as if she were the daughter of a duke rather than a baronet; Sir Lewis’s family was ancient and respected, but not of the nobility. Lady Catherine had done her best with her daughter, and she had helped other young women improve their manners from time to time when called upon. Her brother had her to thank for helping amend the behavior of his youngest daughter, who had been quite wild, indeed.
But nothing had prepared her for Lydia Bennet, and to a lesser extent, her sister Catherine. The two girls simply had no knowledge of propriety, a discovery which was even more shocking because their two eldest sisters were the very models of gentility and excellent breeding. They laughed and giggled between themselves when others were speaking, broke in to the middle of the conversation with loud and sometimes embarrassing statements, and they seemed not to understand how they must defer to their elder sisters.
