by Jann Rowland
When the door opened and the maid who acted as the housekeeper stepped in, leading Lady Emily into the room, Elizabeth and Olivia both rose. Elizabeth attempted to rein in her astonishment and greeted the lady with perfect civility, though Olivia was not so successful. As such, Elizabeth attempted to attend to the niceties, requesting that the maid provide some tea and rolls she prepared in the morning in case they should have any visitors.
“Miss Bennet, Miss Drummond,” said Lady Emily, accepting their welcome with generous civility. “Might I inquire after your families?”
“All well,” replied Elizabeth, inviting their guest to be seated. “Mrs. Drummond is with the children at present, and my last letter from my mother reported nothing extraordinary. And you?”
“I am tolerable, indeed,” replied the lady.
Pleasantries were exchanged for several moments, until the tea tray arrived, and Elizabeth nudged Olivia, reminding her that it was her duty to serve. The girl colored a little at having to be reminded, but she readily attended to it. Then they all sat back with their cups and the conversation began in earnest. Though Lady Emily was as amiable as ever, there seemed to be a distinct probing quality in her comments that day, making Elizabeth feel uncomfortable.
“Have you learned yet whether your sister is to come to Derbyshire, Miss Bennet?”
“I have not heard anything yet,” said Elizabeth. “By all accounts, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley are great friends, so I would expect that they will come at some time or another.”
“You will be happy to see her.”
“Of course,” replied Elizabeth. “She and I have been the closest of sisters all our lives. Our separation these past months, though I have been happy at Kingsdown, have been painful. I shall be happy to have her with me again.”
“You make me quite envious, Miss Bennet. I have no other siblings. My mother died giving birth to a younger brother, who also perished, and my father could not bear to marry again.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” murmured Elizabeth.
“I would have liked to have known my mother, but I can hardly miss what I have never known.” Lady Emily paused for a moment. “I have also had cousins and aunts to fill the void, so while I feel for my father’s sorrow, on the whole I have been content.”
There was nothing to be said to such a statement, so Elizabeth did not reply. Lady Emily did not seem to miss Elizabeth’s lack of response, for she forwarded the conversation immediately.
“I have been attempting to remember everything I can of Luton, but I cannot picture your estate. Can you describe it to me?”
“It is actually south and east of Luton, my lady,” replied Elizabeth. “It is closer to a small town called Meryton, though Longbourn does have a tiny village attached to it.”
“And that would mean your father possesses a living in his gift?”
“Yes,” replied Elizabeth. “He has not ever exercised this ability, for our rector—Mr. Standish—has been parson there since long before I was born. But as he is quite elderly now, I suspect my father will need to appoint someone else before too many more years have passed.”
That seemed to impress Lady Emily. “Perhaps you could describe some of the sights of the area? I am interested in other places, and you speak so eloquently that I suspect I will be able to imagine it from nothing more than your description.”
Something about the question seemed off to Elizabeth, but she readily complied. She spoke of her father’s house and the park in which it sat, described the area, including the paths she had often walked, spoke of her favorite view atop Oakham Mount, and a little of Netherfield, her sister’s new home. Lady Emily listened attentively, giving the proper responses in the proper places, but Elizabeth could not help but feel that she expected to hear something particular, though what it was, Elizabeth could not quite determine.
“This Oakham Mount, you say, is on your father’s estate?” asked she after Elizabeth had described the view from the summit.
“I do not believe that Oakham Mount is actually part of any of the estates,” said Elizabeth after a moment’s thought. “My father has always said it is of little value, unless one means to build a fort to survey and protect one’s lands. The northern slope might be of some use, as it is heavily forested, but that would more properly belong to the estate to the north, which is, I believe, somewhat larger than father’s. But the estates to the south, Netherfield and Longbourn, have never paid the hill much attention.”
“And it is two miles to the north, you say?”
“That is approximately correct,” replied Elizabeth.
“And do you journey there on horseback?”
“No, I walk.”
Lady Emily’s eyes widened in surprise. “You walk, do you? You must be a prodigious walker, to be able to attempt such a journey.”
“I have been walking as long as I have been old enough to find my way, Lady Emily. I do not walk to Oakham Mount often, as four miles is longer than I will normally venture, but I do not think it to be more than I am capable.”
“That much is evident,” said Lady Emily. “And your sister’s estate? Is the house quite distant from your father’s house?”
“It is a little less than three miles on a direct path,” replied Elizabeth. “The easiest way to go by carriage, however, is through Meryton. It is about one mile to Meryton from Longbourn, and then a further two miles to Netherfield.”
“Thank you for describing it so succinctly,” replied Lady Emily. “I do, indeed, have a clear picture of your home through your efforts. I hope to be able to visit you there someday.”
“You would be welcome, indeed,” replied Elizabeth. She could not think of anything else to say; she did not think that Lady Emily’s wish—if indeed it was in earnest—was likely to be gratified.
The visit continued for some little time after, and though the conversation did not strike Elizabeth as odd as it had before, there was still something unusual about Lady Emily’s behavior. She watched and listened and spoke and tried to show that she was much as she ever was, but Elizabeth could not quite determine what had prompted this oddness. Then when Lady Emily arose to depart, she did so with every indication of continued civility and friendship. It was soon clear that Olivia had seen nothing of the lady’s strange behavior.
“It was very civil of Lady Emily to visit us here,” said she, her voice brimming with admiration. “I would never have expected her to return our call.”
“No, neither would I,” replied Elizabeth, distracted by her thoughts.
“It is hardly the behavior one would expect of the nobility,” pressed Olivia. “I do not know what to make of it.”
“Nor do I,” replied Elizabeth, pushing her concerns to the side to focus on her cousin. “I will own, though, that I have not known many of equal station to Lady Emily, so I cannot expect to predict how they will conduct themselves. I cannot think she meant anything but friendship.”
“I am certain she did not,” replied Olivia, though Elizabeth was struck by the falsehood in her own words. In fact, she was certain that friendship had not been the only purpose of Lady Emily’s visit.
The door to the sitting-room opened, and Edward stepped in. “Was that truly the daughter of an earl at Kingsdown?” asked he in evident surprise.
“It was,” said Olivia, her enthusiasm fairly gushing from her voice. “It was very civil of her to have attended us.”
“She is a handsome woman, indeed,” replied Edward. “Perhaps I shall stand up with her at the next ball.”
Olivia giggled and put her hand over her mouth. “It seems that my brother is infatuated with Lady Emily. What do you think, Elizabeth? Does he have a chance to woo the lady, or is he destined to disappointment?”
Elizabeth could not hold the laugh which escaped from her own mouth. Edward only shot his sister a withering glare and departed from the room, with Olivia chasing close behind, calling after him in a teasing voice. El
izabeth decided not to join her—the siblings would no doubt end in an argument if Olivia persisted, and she had no desire to be drawn into it.
Besides, Elizabeth still had not determined what Lady Emily’s ulterior motive for calling on them had been. It was something she thought she should likely understand, but she could not fathom it. It was some time before Elizabeth left the room, and had anyone looked in to see her sitting there, they would have seen her deep in thought.
Though Elizabeth and Olivia were more often to be found in Georgiana Darcy’s company than any other ladies’ of the district, it did not follow that they neglected their other acquaintances. Elizabeth especially grew close with several them—they were mostly older than Olivia, and though she was friendly with them, she did not exactly consider them to be “friends.” Thus, they often visited those other estates and ladies, though not so often as they might have liked, for the hand who usually drove the carriage was much engaged in the care of the farm.
The ladies with whom Elizabeth was closest were the two she had spoken with the most at Lady Emily’s picnic—Miss Clara Burbage and Miss Fiona MacDonald. There were several others in the area who became known to her, some closer than others. Unfortunately, one could not possibly hope to please everyone with whom they were introduced, and Elizabeth found that maxim to be as true in Derbyshire as it was anywhere else.
It was beyond hope, Elizabeth supposed, that Mr. Darcy’s continued attentions to her might go unnoticed. The man’s actions were ever more ardent, and while he was still guarded when in any gathering, his preference for her company was certain to be observed. Though most of Elizabeth’s acquaintances saw this and either teased her or envied her in silence, there were a few who could not hold their tongues. Comments, mean-spirited or cutting, were to be expected. It was one of the less admirable facets of human behavior to covet the good fortune of another.
Elizabeth found that the longer she remained in Derbyshire society, the more she was the recipient of such comments, though she could not state that she was made uncomfortable on many occasions. The worst incident took place not long after Mr. Darcy started calling on her openly.
It was during a morning visit to the estate owned by her friend Clara Burbage’s father. The Burbage estate, Heath Hill, was situated on the far side of Lambton from Kingsdown, which meant that Elizabeth could not visit the young lady she had rapidly come to consider a friend as often as she liked. That morning, Clara had invited several ladies for tea, and they were received with affability and good humor by her mother, a matronly and plump woman of approximately Mrs. Bennet’s age; Clara’s younger sister, Eleanor; and her brother, Harold, who was younger than Elizabeth, though only by a few months. After the social niceties had been observed, Clara’s family went away and left her to her friends and her tea.
The guests, who consisted of Fiona MacDonald and four other ladies of the area, sat down to their conversations, and Elizabeth, in Olivia’s company, was drawn to her two closest friends. The conversation was lively and interesting, and Elizabeth was enjoying herself when the incident occurred.
“You seem to have made yourself many friends since coming to the area, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth turned to regard the young woman who had addressed her. She did not know Miss Hillary Russell well at all, nor did she know the two ladies who sat on either side of her—their names were Miss Mary Campbell and Miss Erica Allen. They had always struck her as a little incautious in their remarks, and at times, they could be deemed unpleasant. In between the two groups, the final member of their party, Miss Deborah Grant sat, looking between the two of them as if she expected some unpleasantness.
“I appreciate the welcome I have received,” replied Elizabeth, not knowing the woman’s intentions, but thinking that a banal response might prevent further comment. “Derbyshire has proven to be beyond my expectations.”
“Yes, it is a wonderful county,” replied Miss Russell. “Is your home as beautiful as that you find in Derbyshire?” She paused, as if attempting to remember something, and continued: “I am sorry, Miss Bennet, where did you say your home is?”
“Hertfordshire. My family estate is fewer than twenty miles from the outskirts of London.”
“That must be convenient for the season. I assume your family has a presence in London?”
“Yours does not,” replied Clara. She seemed to sense that Miss Russell was intent on some mischief, for her gaze was more than a little pointed.
“I have attended the season,” replied Miss Russell, her eyes flashing with displeasure.
“When staying with Mary’s family,” said Fiona.
“We were happy to have her with us,” said Miss Campbell. In consequence, Miss Campbell was higher than Miss Russell, whose family estate was no larger than Longbourn. Miss Allen was higher than them both, but as the girl was naturally of a more reticent disposition, she often deferred to her more vocal pair of friends.
“Well, Miss Bennet?” pressed Miss Russell. “I have not seen you in London, but I assume you have been there.”
“Many times,” replied Elizabeth. “My uncle owns a house in London. My father but rarely goes, as he finds London society is not to his taste.”
“Then your family does not possess a house in town?”
“No, Miss Russell, we do not.” A hint of impishness came over Elizabeth, and she added: “It seems we are not so different, Miss Russell, though town is more accessible to me, given my proximity.”
“My family at times spends the entirety of the season in town, though this year we have not gone due to my mother’s health,” ventured Miss Allen. “My mother and father are both very fond of society.”
“I believe we have all attended events there,” said Clara. “My favorite is the theater, though I do enjoy balls and parties too.”
For a time, Clara’s attempt to change the subject was successful, for the ladies’ conversation concerned what they had done in London, what events, what activities were favorites. But while this was going on, Elizabeth noted that Miss Russell’s eyes lingered on her.
Most of these here, Elizabeth thought, were from families that were quite wealthy. Clara and Fiona’s fathers were gentlemen whose estates yielded in excess of five thousand a year, with Miss Campbell’s family standing just below, and Miss Allen’s family somewhat above their stations. Miss Russell’s behavior was interesting, as other than Olivia, her family was the lowest in consequence, though Elizabeth had heard some talk of an inheritance from an elderly relation which had increased her dowry. It was likely this that provoked an increase in haughtiness.
After the conversation about the season had wound down a little, Miss Russell spoke again, apparently unaffected by being thwarted earlier. “Excuse me, Miss Bennet, how long will you be staying in the area?”
“The length of my stay has not been determined. But I believe that I will be here at least until the end of summer.”
“I have heard that you have become quite close with Miss Georgiana Darcy,” said Miss Campbell. What little Elizabeth could garner from Miss Campbell’s tone suggested that the woman was no more pleased with Elizabeth’s presence than was her friend.
“She is my closest friend!” exclaimed Olivia.
“Is she, indeed?” asked Miss Russell, an eyebrow raised in skepticism.
“Yes!” replied Olivia, clearly not understanding the other ladies’ displeasure. “We have many interests in common, and she is ever so amiable.”
“She is quite amiable, indeed, though I have not spoken to her often,” said Miss Campbell. “You are quite . . . fortunate to have come to her notice.”
“It is shocking,” said Miss Russell casually, as if saying nothing of greater import than she expected it to rain, “that some young ladies are intent upon forwarding their interests by imposing themselves upon timid young ladies who, coincidentally, are connected to men of high standing in society.”
“Indeed, it is a mean art,”
added Miss Campbell. “But if forced to stand on their own merits, their ambitions will not be realized, so their reliance on such subterfuge is not surprising.”
“What is next?” asked Miss Russell tittering behind her hand. “Perhaps a compromise, or a fortunate meeting in a deserted hall?”
“I feel for the young lady. To have her earnest offers of friendship repaid in such a way would be very hard, indeed.”
The spiteful comments between the two women were exchanged with such rapidity that no one else could insert a word while they were speaking. By the time Miss Campbell fired her parting shot, Clara was so livid that her fingers on the arm of the chair in which she sat were white with the force she was exerting on them. Fiona’s eyes blazed, Miss Grant watched the two cats with sardonic disdain, while Miss Allen, who was known to be close to them, looked on, her eyes wide with shock.
Knowing that Clara was about to respond with a disparaging comment which would only provoke an argument, Elizabeth put her hand on her arm and turned to the two ladies.
“That would, indeed, be a shame, Miss Russell, for their hospitality to be repaid in such a fashion. Of course, it is a reprehensible art to show friendship for the sake of ingratiating. Fortunately, I think most gentlemen are intelligent enough to see avarice for what it is, and I have no doubt that those who befriend wonderful ladies such as Georgiana Darcy do so for no more reason than to be acquainted with such a wonderful young girl.
“Of course,” added Elizabeth in an offhand manner, “attacking others for nothing more than jealousy and spite is at least as mean an art as that which you described. It shows a lack of confidence in oneself, for if one is content with one’s situation and the content of one’s character, such devices would become quite unnecessary. Do you not agree?”
Though Miss Russell’s gaze bored into her and Elizabeth had no doubt she would have been impaled if Miss Russell could have managed it, she seemed to know enough not to say anything further. As a result, she did not make a response.
