by Alexa Adams
Against the advice of the doctor, whom she summarily dismissed, she hired a schooner to take herself and her daughter to Italy, having read that a warmer climate was beneficial to sufferers. Lady Catherine, incredibly efficient when determined, hired a team of nurses, closed up the house, and bundled the ailing child into the carriage all before Lady Cat’s infuriated letter arrived, ringing with scathing comments on her daughter’s arrogance and stupidity. The missive would reach the travelers only several months later, by which time they were well-ensconced in a palazzo by the sea, the therapeutic air of which had already wrought a huge improvement in Anne. Lady Catherine read half the letter before tossing it into the fire. She did not deign to reply.
The De Bourghs remained in Italy for three years before returning to England. Anne was deemed fully recovered, though the effects of her illness permanently robbed her of health and vigor. Though she showed no physical symptoms of alteration, Lady Catherine’s transformation was no less dramatic. The preservation of her daughter through her own intervention and treatment left her with a permanent distrust of the advice of others, along with an unshakable confidence in her own expertise. The tenants at Rosings and residents of Hunsford were the recipients, willing or no, of her newfound presumption.
Mr. Weatherspoon, one of the first to welcome the family home, found that any former ability he had to sway her ladyship had completely abated. All attempts in such a direction were immediately cut down, and he often found himself angrily dismissed for trying to lead Lady Catherine towards righteousness. She would hold her own counsel and abide no other. Eventually, he ceased trying. Meanwhile, his parishioners found that no household concern was too minute to escape Lady Catherine’s notice. Most learned readily enough to accept such intrusions, as her wrath when thwarted had become formidable, and, in one who held so much power over their lives, rather terrifying.
Upon Miss de Bourgh’s resumption of sufficient health, a governess, one Mrs. Jenkinson, was hired to oversee her education. Lady Catherine rejected all applicants for the position proposed by her mother, of which there were a good many, choosing instead a woman deemed acceptable not because of her academic qualifications but for her meekness, obedience to direction, and the fact that she had spent a great many years nursing an infirm mother. Anne’s health was to take precedence over all other concerns. If any subject proved wearying to her, it was instantly abandoned. In such a manner did the girl grow up, with only the scantest instruction, a great deal of cosseting, and entirely subject to her mother’s decrees.
The year 1792 saw the death of Lady Cat. Lady Catherine observed the customary mourning traditions, but quietly she was rather relived to finally fully escape her mother’s domination. She perceived that some sense of guilt ought to accompany such sensations, but she could not quite summon it into reality. Instead, she chose to honor her mother’s memory by clinging more stridently than ever before to the dowager countess’s wish to see her two grandchildren united in matrimony, a goal perhaps rendered more palatable by the decreasing likelihood that Anne would ever take her proper place within society. Regardless of Lady Catherine’s true motives, it was a scheme once again shared between the sisters, with the elder far more engaged than she had ever been before.
Lady Anne and Mr. Darcy were blessed by the arrival of a second child, Georgiana, in 1794. Unfortunately, the happy event caused irreparable harm to Lady Anne’s health, and she only survived a few years before succumbing to her ailments. This tragic event only rendered Lady Catherine even more zealous in protecting her own Anne’s fragile health. The young lady’s activities were more curtailed than ever, limited to carriage rides around the estate and village and dinner parties with those members of the neighborhood deemed worthy enough for her association.
Ever since Sir Lewis’s passing, Mr. Darcy had made regular visits to Rosings Park to assist his sister in the administration of her lands. He continued this attention following Lady Anne’s passing, often bringing young Fitzwilliam, who was everyday fulfilling the predictions that he would grow into a handsome gentleman, to assist in his work. Though the two cousins showed no particular fondness for each other, Lady Catherine was heartened to see what a conscientious and serious young man he was, one who was certain to fulfill his familial obligations. She never broached the subject of a union between the children to his father, as Lady Anne’s warnings that Mr. Darcy did not approve of marriages between cousins remained fresh in her memory. Nevertheless, she felt confident that young Darcy would do his duty when the time came. After all, where was he likely to find a more advantageous match?
Mr. Darcy followed his beloved wife to the grave in 1806, leaving his son master of an enormous estate and responsible for the care of a young, sensitive, and devastated sister. Still young for such responsibility but not so much so for marriage to be beyond his consideration, it was not many months after his father’s death that Lady Catherine first broached the subject.
“Your assistance has been invaluable, Darcy. Your father would be proud.”
The solemn young man simply bowed his head in reply.
“There are not many whom I could trust to advise me on estate business. I have little doubt, had your father not so kindly provided his assistance following Sir Lewis’s death, I should have learned to manage it on my own. I prefer self-reliance over dependence on another’s opinion, having long been accustomed to keeping my own counsel, but fortune bestowed upon me a most capable brother, and his son has proven a worthy heir to that legacy. I never doubted you would.”
“Thank you, Aunt Catherine. I am honored by such sentiments.”
“One can count on you to feel and act as you ought, Darcy. Such results can be expected when one is the product of excellent lineage. Education can only do so much, as I am sorry to hear you have learned in regards to that unfortunate Wickham boy. Your father squandered a great many resources upon him. I never understood his infatuation with the child.”
“His father was an excellent steward, and my father wished to repay him for his loyal service.”
“I have no doubt old Wickham’s death was deeply felt by all at Pemberley. A good and trustworthy steward is hard to come by. But your father spoiled the son by giving him expectations beyond his station. I heard tell he intended the living at Kympton for the boy. Will you bestow it so?”
“I have long believed Wickham unfit for the church. His character is not one to set a good example for a parish.”
She scoffed, “I should think not.”
“Fortunately, he knows himself well enough to recognize this fact and has chosen to pursue a career in law instead. I have reimbursed him for the value of the living, which, if he behaves prudently, should be sufficient for this end.”
“You do too much, Darcy. Your father made no such provision in his will.”
“But it was his intention to provide for Wickham. I could not, in good conscience, do less.”
“Well, I suppose you are well rid of him. That is worth something. He can make no further demands upon you. Though I never approved of the favor your family dissipated on that ungrateful boy, it speaks well of your character that you feel so. I have always been impressed by your commitment to family honor and connections.”
Again, he bowed in acknowledgement of the compliment.
“I wonder if you recall Lady Anne mentioning that it was the favorite wish of the late countess that our families would further solidify their natural affinity?”
He frowned in confusion. “I do not believe I do. You are already nearly my closest remaining relation, next to the earl and his family.”
“My dear Darcy, I find it unaccountable that it should not have occurred to you how advantageous it would be to both yourself and my daughter to someday wed. Your mother, grandmother, and I often discussed such a union from the earliest days of your infancy. You are a natural match for each other, in regard to both station and wealth. Together, you would unite two of the most admired estates in the country. Oh, yo
u are not yet ready to marry, that I know. Nor am I prepared to part with Anne. Yet the time will come when you will wish to settle down and see both your house and Georgiana under the influence of a capable manager and worthy mistress.”
Though Darcy experienced some shock at the notion of his infirm cousin being capable of any exertion, let alone that required to manage a large household, he masked his feelings well. “I am pleased you understand that I am not yet at the time of life when such matters are foremost in my mind. Georgiana and I are still struggling to cope with the loss of our father. I intend no alteration to my household for many years to come.”
“Of course not, Darcy. A gentleman must sow his oats before undertaking matrimony. It is only my intention to make sure you are aware of your mother’s and grandmother’s wishes on the subject, as well as provide my sanction to the notion. I did not always take to the idea with such enthusiasm as Lady Anne, but you have proven yourself worthy of my daughter’s hand, and I shall be very happy on the day you both reach the inevitable conclusion.”
He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Shall we address the books?”
“By all means,” she graciously replied, satisfied at having won her point.
Part Four – 1812-1813
After many years faithfully shepherding his flock, Mr. Weatherspoon peacefully departed this earth on a winter’s evening early in 1812. His funeral was an impressive one, as he had been respected and loved by most who knew him. In memoriam, the family from Rosings Park sent two large and handsome flower bouquets to flank the alter in Hunsford church, harvested from their extensive hothouses, and made a noble display of themselves, attired in fashionable mourning dress for the occasion and gracing the front pew with their exalted presence. Lady Catherine felt so much Mr. Weatherspoon’s due. For nearly thirty years he had possessed the official guidance of her spiritual life, through both good times and the most desperately trying. Often, she lost patience with him, but she knew he was a worthy man despite their disagreements and would not be seen disrespecting his memory in any way. Nevertheless, the living at Hunsford was in her gift, and she had a very different notion of what the next rector for the parish should be.
The new rector, when she found him, would not question her actions or try to guide her behavior. Such tactics might do very well for the rest of parish, but she would not brook such interference again. He must be a gentleman, but not one so well-situated that he should not properly appreciate her patronage. She would have him grateful and inclined to follow her directives. He should be predisposed towards marriage, though presently unencumbered by family. She should enjoy directing and approving his choice in mate. It would be an edifying project, as would the refurbishment of the parsonage, upon which she had long wished to lay her hands. Yes, Lady Catherine sat in her pew the picture of grief, but she had many sources of solace for the loss of Mr. Weatherspoon.
Over the next several months, a slew of needy clergymen took turns preaching from the Hunsford pulpit. Many were well-spoken, even more were eager to make their mark on the world, but none possessed the servility required by the mistress of Rosings until one Mr. William Collins arrived, only sent because the bishop had run out of anyone better to recommend. How surprised he was to learn that this bumbling excuse for a clergyman was just what suited Lady Catherine’s needs! His sermons were not particularly stirring, but Lady Catherine saw in this an opportunity to largely write them herself. No, his bearing was not terribly dignified, but this was more than compensated for by his absolute reverence for his new patroness. Having rather despaired of ever holding a living of his own, he felt all the gratitude Lady Catherine could desire for so suddenly becoming the possessor of a very comfortable parsonage with every promise of improvement, as Mr. Weatherspoon had not been terribly particular in the collection of tithes. If the rest of the parish were surprised by the selection, it mattered little to the two principals in the matter, thoroughly complacent as they were with the arrangement, what those whose lives would be so materially influenced by the selection thought. Having been under the influence of Lady Catherine’s directives for so many years, most surmised what influenced the choice, and if they disapproved, all made certain that her ladyship never learned of it.
Mr. Collins was asked to dine at Rosings shortly after his arrival in Hunsford, the honor of which invitation even Lady Catherine thought he felt too keenly. The evening provided the perfect opportunity for her to fully assess his situation and connections, which subjects she showed no hesitancy in forwarding.
“I understand you are the heir to a small estate in Hertfordshire, Mr. Collins. To whom does it currently belong?”
“My revered late father’s cousin. Due to an unfortunate quarrel between them, I have never met Mr. Bennet. It is only by chance that I should be his heir, as I have no doubt he would much prefer that Longbourn remain in the hands of the more immediate family, but it is entailed on descendants male, and it seems most unlikely that such will be forthcoming.”
“Rather unreliable ground upon which to stake your future, Mr. Collins. What makes you so certain he will not yet marry and produce progeny?”
“Please excuse me, your ladyship, if my confidence seems presumptuous, but the gentleman is married these past twenty years or more. Indeed, I have some reason to suspect that it was his choice in matrimony that was the cause of the familial strife. As I understand it, my father had hoped to solidify the claim to Longbourn by forging a union between Mr. Bennet and my aunt, rest her soul, but his overtures were dismissed most ungallantly, and before anyone could act to counter this rejection, the gentleman married a local lady, the daughter of a tradesman. My poor father felt it most keenly.”
“I should think he would! To have family connections supplanted in such a manner is most mortifying, and I do not blame your father for his ire. Did your aunt find another suitable match?”
“She made a respectable but not advantageous union to the local curate, which she unfortunately did not long survive, departing this mortal realm while in childbirth not much more than a year after her marriage.”
“A tragic tale, Mr. Collins. And how old is this Mr. Bennet now?”
“Middle-aged, I should guess. He was not many years younger than my own esteemed father.”
“More than young enough to remarry, should his wife precede him to the grave. I would not be too assured of your inheritance if I were you.”
“Oh, I do hope I should never take it for granted, but as I understand it, Mrs. Bennet enjoys fine health. Indeed, she is said to have maintained her charms to quite an unusual degree for one who has borne five children.”
“Five children!” Lady Catherine exclaimed with raised brow. “Am I to understand that the entire brood is female?”
“Correct, your ladyship. You penetrate the situation most precisely.”
“It is unusual that such efforts should not be better rewarded. I must feel for the family’s predicament, though I congratulate you on reaping the benefit of their misfortune.”
“Such sentiments honor your innate nobility, Lady Catherine.”
“What is the value of the Longbourn estate, Mr. Collins?”
“I understand it to be worth 2,000 per annum.”
“Unless Mr. Bennet has been most prudent, or Mrs. Bennet had a larger dowry than most country tradesmen are able to provide, those five daughters are left without very much to see them properly established. A sad business.”
“I am sure they would feel the distinction of your sympathy most keenly, were they privy to it.”
Lady Catherine accepted this assumption as her due and turned the topic to parish matters for the remainder of the meal. Yet when it was concluded and the party withdrew to the drawing room, she reintroduced the subject.
“I have been considering the unreliability of your inheritance, Mr. Collins, and it occurs to me that you ought to bridge this fissure in your family by writing to Mr. Bennet. From what I understand, he is your nearest living relativ
e, and a man ought to have a relationship with his heir.”
Mr. Collins looked uncomfortable. “Unfortunately, I believe the degree of chagrin my own father expressed at the time of the regrettable rupture in relations was of a nature not easily forgiven. It was a grudge he carried with him to his grave, and I cannot but feel it might be dishonoring his memory to set such feelings aside.”
“Nonsense! You are a clergyman, and as such it is your duty to promote and establish the blessings of peace amongst all families within your influence. Extend an olive branch, Mr. Collins. I cannot imagine such an overture should be rejected.”
“Why, yes! Of course, you are correct in so advising me, Lady Catherine. I had not so considered the matter and am eternally grateful to be the beneficiary of your wise counsel,” he said with a bow.
“I am glad you feel as you ought, Mr. Collins. Write to Mr. Bennet. Furthermore, I propose you request to visit the family. It will do you good to see the estate which may someday be yours, and if the unfortunate daughters of the family prove amiable and well-bred despite their maternal connections, I suggest you seek amongst them a wife.”
