by Linda Phelps
“And your hens? Have they increased their egg laying? Hens always do this time of year if they are being properly tended. You have remembered that I recommended they be fed with that special grain that James Proctor grows. Have you procured it?
“Yes, Lady Catherine. And the hens are thriving. They are producing eggs at a great rate.”
“You should slaughter any who seem sluggish.”
“I shall, I promise.”
Having done her duty by Charlotte, Lady Catherine scanned her company. She decided that quiet Maria was beneath notice, and so turned her inquisition in the direction of Elizabeth. As Charlotte had expected, her friend was not overawed by the great lady. “Mrs. Collins, I see that your friend is a very genteel, pretty kind of girl. And how many sisters have you, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Four, your Ladyship,”
“And are any of them out?”
“All,” said Elizabeth.
Lady Catherine, taken aback, began an interrogation into the particulars of Elizabeth’s family and home. Charlotte, smiling throughout, was shamed by the impropriety of many of these questions. However, Elizabeth, never shy about stating what she thought, responded with no visible signs of annoyance. Charlotte realized she was taking pleasure in shocking Lady Catherine’s sensibilities.
“And I believe you have no brothers,” said she.
“None, your ladyship.”
“And so your father’s estate is entailed upon Mr. Collins, I think.”
Charlotte avoided looking at Elizabeth. This was one subject they had not discussed since her engagement to Mr. Collins. It was impossible not to think of the effects Mr. Bennet’s death would have on each of them, so their silence was necessary to protect their friendship. But how tactless of Lady Catherine to even mention the subject in this company!
“Yes,” said Elizabeth. “That is so.”
Lady Catherine turned to Charlotte. “For your sake, I am glad of it, although I do not as a general thing approve of entailments. It was not thought necessary in Sir Lewis de Bough’s family.”
She gave them a moment to consider her words, then, “Do you play and sing, Miss Bennet?”
“A little.”
There followed an inquisition into Elizabeth’s education and that of her sisters. Lady Catherine, astonished by all she heard, instructed the room in the proper ways to bring up young girls. “If I had known your mother,” said Lady Catherine, “I should have advised her most strenuously ro engage a governess for you and your sisters. I always say that nothing is to be done in education without steady and regular instruction.”
Charlotte turned to glance at Lady Anne. So far as she understood the matter, Lady Anne had been spared the incursion of many masters into her quiet life, and Mrs. Jenkinson, while admirably devoted to the girl, seemed an unlikely person to fill that gap.
Then Charlotte turned to look at her sister Maria. The girl was a degree more at ease than she had been at table, but only a degree. Charlotte resolved to teach her some strategies for concealing her feelings.
When the gentlemen had joined them, the card tables were placed. Charlotte saw the relief in her sister’s face when she was sent to the table headed by Lady Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson. Elizabeth also seemed to be pleased to escape further conversation with their hostess. In fact, while Charlotte played quadrille, partnered by her husband, she kept one ear cocked to overhear anything that was said at the other table, but almost nothing was. Mr. Collins repeated the mistakes he had made in earlier games, upon which Lady Catherine upbraided him as she had done before. Sir William, who partnered her Ladyship, made no attempt at conversation but took every possible occasion to praise her skill.
When Lady Catherine and her daughter had played as long as they chose, the carriage was offered to take their guests back to the rectory. It had scarcely left the house before Mr. Collins began his own inquisition of Elizabeth.
“Cousin, have you ever seen a finer house than Rosings?”
“No, sir, I have not,”
“Nor have you eaten such a dinner as was presented to us today?
“It was a fine dinner, Mr. Collins, One of the best I have ever been privileged to eat.”
“I think Lady Catherine outdid herself with the dinner,” continued Mr. Collins. “Even though I dine at Rosings twice a week, I do not believe I have previously seen any more sumptuous meal. We should all feel honoured by the effort she made to please us. But did you notice the furniture in the drawing room? The piano cost almost 50 pounds, but Lady Catherine did not hesitate. She wanted it so she bought it.”
“How fortunate for her that she has the income to indulge her whims,” said Elizabeth.
The women were grateful that the ride was of short duration, and soon all were in the rectory. Mr. Collins began to repeat his pleas for praise of Lady Catherine, but Elizabeth excused herself on the grounds that she had a headache.
Once she was gone, both Sir William and Maria felt free to express their admiration for all they had seen and done. This was Charlotte’s task on the nights she and Mr. Collins enjoyed an evening at Rosings. Relieved to have a night in which her oft repeated praises were not needed, she too claimed a headache, and left her family to recount the great evening without her.
Chapter Three
THE FOLLOWING MORNING CHARLOTTE and Elizabeth found themselves alone in the sitting room for the first time since Elizabeth’s arrival. Maria had elected to join Mr. Collins and Sir William on their daily drive through the neighbourhood. The two women picked up their stitchery and, looking at each other, burst into laughter.
How wonderful to be laughing with Lizzy again! “Now tell me, what scandals have you kept from me in your letters. I will know all.”
Elizabeth regaled her with gossip of the local girls and the militia, which led her to say, “I suppose you are curious about Wickham.”
“Indeed I am. Have you discovered anything new about his unhappy relationship with Mr. Darcy?”
“We have found time to discuss the abominable man. Apparently Mr. Darcy is an unpleasant child grown to be an unpleasant man.
“It is difficult for me to believe that Mr. Bingley would have such a friend,” said Charlotte, surprised to find the name warming her tongue.
“That is exactly what Jane said! But I believe that Mr. Darcy can exhibit charm when he chooses to. He does not choose to when among beings he considers below him.”
“How different from his aunt.”
“Lady Catherine? Do you know, I see a strong resemblance to each other in their faces. But you are right. Lady Catherine has his pride but not his reserve.”
“Ah,” cried Charlotte. “You are not answering the question you know I have. Are you and Mr. Wickham attached?”
“No. As much as we are friends, we cannot think about becoming closer to each other. It is the money, of course. He has not enough to support a wife, and whatever I could contribute would not do much to bridge the gap. Of course we have not spoken of the matter so directly. Still, we understand each other.”
Charlotte was relieved. She loved Elizabeth and wanted only the best for her, and in her opinion, Wickham, while attractive, did not deserve her friend. “I hope you are not too unhappy about this,” said she.
“I promise you I am not. He has not broken my heart. For that matter, I have never been so fortunate as to meet a man who could break my heart. I hope one appears soon.”
The women laughed, but Charlotte knew that there was a certain truth in Elizabeth’s words. Half a year earlier, when Mr. Bingley had entered their society, her heart, dead for so long, had come to life, only to be broken by the man’s preference for Jane Bennet. It was at that point that Charlotte had finally resigned herself, without showing the bitterness she felt, to a life as a single lady. She had been unexpectedly saved from that fate by Elizabeth’s rejection of Mr. Collins offer of marriage.
“I share your hope,” said Charlotte. “You are too pretty and good-natured to be left behind. But wh
at of Jane? I believe she has not seen Bingley once since she’s been in town. Is that not what you wrote?”
“She has seen his sisters,” said Elizabeth, “and more to her benefit, she has seen them as they really are, spiteful and shallow.”
“But she has not seen Mr. Bingley?” Again Charlotte felt that strange pleasure at pronouncing his name. “And is her heart broken?”
“I think it has been sore, but it recovers rapidly. Jane need have no worries.”
“No. She is so beautiful.”
Thus did the two hint at the plight of unmarried women in their society. Without healthy dowries, they had only their appearances and their charms to offer a prospective husband. Few men were so impractical as to consider it a mutually advantageous bargain.
Elizabeth said, “But it is difficult to imagine a marriage between Mr. Darcy and Lady Anne. The only common thing about them is their unwillingness to talk in company.”
“Do not judge Lady Anne by last night. You would not expect it, but I think she is shy around strangers, and, in truth, she is not in health. She calls here at the rectory often, and when she is alone with me, she is quite amiable. She has not experienced most of the things that a girl her age normally would have.”
“Then I will consider her an object of pity, and not only because she is doomed to be Mr. Darcy’s wife.”
“Remember that the marriage will also make Caroline Bingley unhappy,” said Charlotte, “so its effect will not be entirely disagreeable.”
They smiled, very content to be together again.
When a week had passed, Sir William departed for Lucas Lodge, pleased to take to his wife an excellent report of their eldest child. Lady Lucas, in her public delight that Charlotte was finally to marry, had kept her doubts about the union to herself, except when, late at night, she expressed them to her husband. Now he could allay those doubts, for in his mind, Mr. Collins had proved perfectly amiable and good tempered, while Lady Catherine was the model of respectable neighbourliness.
With his departure, the household settled into a regular routine. Charlotte had many responsibilities, but found time to take Elizabeth and Maria to call on some of her neighbours. She worried that they would not be sufficiently amused by her few social resources, but neither seemed discontented. .Mrs. Marsden and her daughter called from time to time, and an easy friendliness grew up between them and Charlotte’s guests.
Mr. Collins kindly came to tell them any time Lady Anne’s phaeton passed the door. Invariably she refused to enter the house, even with the urging of Mrs. Jenkinson.” But why, Lady Anne?” asked Charlotte. “We can sit by the fire and have a cozy time. Do enter the rectory.” The girl remained adamant that she would not, nor did she accompany her mother on her frequent visits to the Collins’s house.
Lady Catherine stopped in several times a week. She had many matters to attend to in the nearby town. She felt strongly that her wisdom and guidance were needed to keep that small society running properly. This propensity did not, unfortunately, deprive her of time to inspect the rectory and pass judgment on Charlotte’s management.
“How do you bear it?” asked Elizabeth, after Lady Catherine had made yet another inspection of the larder, had moved a footstool from the chair by which it had been placed to another chair, had noticed that the threshold had been inadequately scrubbed, and only stopped herself from examining the wet laundry by remembering her responsibilities in the village.
Charlotte sighed. “She means well, and she is so good to us. I would be ungrateful indeed if I denied her the pleasure of finding me in error.”
“But you are not in error!” cried Elizabeth. Then, “Oh, Charlotte, I am so sorry. You are right, of course. She means only to be helpful. I will not mention it again, even though my heart beats hot with the desire to defend you.”
“Perhaps it would be better if you left by the kitchen door when my husband gives us word of her arrival,” said Charlotte. She smiled to show that she was teasing.
“That is an excellent idea,” said Elizabeth. “There are so many lovely walks on the grounds of Rosings, and the weather improves each day. I am well satisfied to get exercise.”
“I fear that you think that there is too much of Rosings in our day to day living. But you see how it is.”
Lady Catherine continued to entertain them for dinner about twice a week, although with the loss of Sir William, there was only one card table in evidence. Charlotte, watching from the corner of her eye, saw Elizabeth wander the great drawing room, inspecting the pictures and decorations again. Elizabeth was not fond of cards, and Charlotte knew she was hoping to be invited to visit the library. However, Lady Catherine was unable to imagine that a guest of hers would prefer a book to listening to her own pronouncements. Charlotte did not feel sure enough of her own position to make this request for her guest.
In general the daily activities, while quiet, were pleasant. Charlotte herself, delighting in this rescue from loneliness, tried not to think of the time when her guests would be gone.
Easter week was to bring Mr. Darcy on what was an annual visit to see his aunt and Lady Anne. Elizabeth said, “For a man who will marry soon, he does not seem to be anxious to spend time with his cousin. What keeps him from coming more often?”
“I think he does not enjoy the company of his aunt, Lady Catherine,” said Charlotte, “if you can believe such a thing.”
“He will be pressed to avoid her once she is his mother-in-law,” observed Elizabeth. “Perhaps he will discover that their shared pride makes them amiable.”
“I believe,” said Charlotte, “and I tell you this in confidence, that Mr. Darcy may be fonder of Lady Anne than we think he is. She has told me that he has bought her gifts on his visits since she was a child. For her sake, I hope he has regard for her.”
“I hope so too, if only for the distress such an attachment will cause Miss Bingley.”
On the day Mr. Darcy was expected, Mr. Collins paced the walks in view of the lodges, keeping himself in readiness to make his bow to the carriage. That accomplished, he hurried back to the rectory to report to the assembled ladies. “I believe I should go to Rosings to pay my respects,” said he. “Perhaps a fresh neck band—”
“My dear husband,” said Charlotte. “Think of the situation. Lady Catherine and Lady Anne will be wanting Mr. Darcy to themselves. We should not intrude on their pleasure.”
“Perhaps you are right, my dear. Tomorrow will be a better time for me to perform the expected greetings.”
Accordingly, Mr. Collins set off the next morning as soon as Charlotte gave him leave. To the surprise of all, he returned shortly with Mr. Darcy and a stranger.
“I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would never have come so soon to wait on me,” said Charlotte.
“There is someone else with them,” called Maria, who watched their approach from Mr. Collins’s study. “It’s a man I have not seen before.”
“Now,” whispered Charlotte, “do not be a fool. If Mr. Darcy is paying you this great compliment, accept it as it is meant.” She rose and prepared to bow, positioning herself so she could watch the interaction between her friend and Mr. Darcy. Nancy could be heard opening the door, and immediately the three men entered the small sitting room.
The expected compliments were made by all parties, and the stranger introduced as Mr. Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. The usual enquiries about the health of the people of Longbourn and Lucas Lodge were answered by Elizabeth, who looked in puzzlement toward a suddenly silent Charlotte.
Even Mr. Collins, always so wrapped up in his own concerns, noticed that his wife was not behaving as herself. “You are not ill, my dear, are you?”
Charlotte managed a smile and waved him away. “A slight shortness of breath, my dear husband. I shall be well soon.”
How could it be, after all these years, after her unreasonable disappointment at Bingley’s indifference, that another Frederick should appear before he
r?
She forced herself not to stare at him, but once, when she glanced up, she found that Colonel Fitzwilliam was smiling at her with an air that suggested he knew her secret. It was not until the men left that she was able to breathe normally.
Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manners were very much admired at the parsonage. The ladies spoke of how he must add considerably to the pleasure of their engagements at Rosings.
How unlike Mr. Darcy he is,” said Elizabeth. “He enters into conversation directly with the readiness of a well-bred man”
“And he talks very pleasantly,” added Maria.
“I wonder how many days it will be before we are invited to Rosings,” said Charlotte. “We cannot be wanted now that there are guests.” Never had she wished for an invitation as she did now. She could not help herself. She wanted to be in the presence of Colonel Fitzwilliam, to hear his voice and to see him smile at her. Alarmed by this sudden flood of feeling, she ordered herself to be rational, but it was no use. When she examined her little house, when she fed, her chickens, when she conversed with Maria and Elizabethan, and when she lay beside Mr. Collins at night, she was telling herself a tale of romance.
“You are too old for this,” she said sternly to her face in the mirror. “You are a wise married woman with a tolerable husband. You do not fall in love.” But she recognized the signs. She had felt just this way about George Long when she was a child. She had experienced this same helplessness when she had instantly felt love for Charles Bingley There was no point in telling herself she was acting like a silly girl. She could not help herself.
As it happened, although Colonel Fitzwilliam called almost daily, she exchanged no more glances with him. He gave each of the women in the little sitting room an equal share of his attention. Soon Charlotte, alert to his every word, recognized that this evenhandedness concealed an interest in Elizabeth. That was to be expected. Elizabeth was pretty, charming, and unmarried. However, just as Charlotte had been unable to stop thinking of Mr. Bingley when he displayed his preference for the company of Jane Bennet, she was now unable to to dismiss Colonel Fitzwilliam from her thoughts because he favoured Jane Bennet’s sister.
