by Kate Barton
“You are fanciful, Charlotte,” Elizabeth said. “Let us also not forget that the first time he met me, he found me barely ‘tolerable.’” She pressed her knuckles into the back of the chair. “Wretched man. Why must he be here when I am visiting?”
“Lizzy, you are overwrought,” said Charlotte gently. “Perhaps we should talk of him no more.”
“No,” agreed Elizabeth. “But really, Charlotte, what of the Colonel? Does he visit his aunt often?”
“Every year. Or so Mr Collins tells me.”
“He would know Miss de Bourgh quite well, then.” Elizabeth started pacing the room.
Charlotte looked at her friend, wide eyed. “What are you getting at, Lizzy? I would suppose the Colonel would know Miss de Bourgh well enough. She is his cousin, after all.”
Elizabeth stilled. “There’s something else, Charlotte,” she whispered. “I saw it last night, after the engagement had been announced. A look passed between Miss de Bourgh and Colonel Fitzwilliam; a tender look, full of sadness and longing.” She took a deep breath. “I suspect that they are in love.”
Charlotte looked shocked. “Lizzy, what are you suggesting? That something improper has gone on between them? There has never been talk of anything.”
“No, but why would there be?” pressed Elizabeth. “Lady Catherine has always been obsessed with marrying her daughter to Mr Darcy. Miss de Bourgh is so quiet, no one ever notices her and what she is doing. It would be easy in such a situation for a love to blossom that has been undetected.”
Charlotte looked doubtful. “I do not believe it,” she said. “Not everyone has such lofty notions of love as you do, Lizzy. Miss de Bourgh and Colonel Fitzwilliam secretly in love? I deem it highly unlikely. And now, my dear friend, we should take advantage of our time together and go for that walk into the village.” She paused. “Before the others return.”
Elizabeth acquiesced. Charlotte obviously did not want to talk of it anymore, and really, was there any more to say? It was just suspicion, after all, on her part. She should put it out of her mind, altogether. Who Miss de Bourgh married or loved was none of her business.
But as she tied the ribbons on her bonnet, Elizabeth reflected that she just had to know more. Especially when it was something involving Mr Darcy.
***
Elizabeth and Charlotte, by tacit agreement, took the long way into the village.
It was a mild morning, but overnight rains had made the track muddy. They skirted the puddles and the mud as much as possible, but by the time they reached the outskirts, Elizabeth saw that the hem of her dress was spattered. Amazingly, Charlotte’s dress managed to escape with barely a mark. Was there some trick that she had learnt, thought Elizabeth, to keep it pristine? For it seemed that her hemlines were forever being scrubbed. Her mother berated her constantly for it.
But she couldn’t seem to care, not that much anyway. She remembered the morning that she had arrived at Netherfield, to visit Jane who had been taken ill. Both Bingley sisters had raised their eyebrows at the state of her hemline. Elizabeth had noticed, but she hadn’t cared a jot for their good opinion. She just wanted to see her sister.
“I hope Jane is doing well in London,” she remarked to Charlotte as they walked the streets. “I really was expecting a letter by now.”
“If Jane is too busy to write,” Charlotte replied, “then she must be having a good time. Do not worry so much over her, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth reflected. She did worry about Jane, but it was only because of Jane’s sweet nature. She knew that people took advantage of her, and that Jane failed to see this. She was so determined to see the best in everybody. She had failed to see the true nature of Caroline Bingley, who had acted as if Jane were her friend. But Elizabeth had never been fooled by Miss Bingley.
“Oh, look Lizzy! It is Lady Catherine, and all the others from Rosings,” Charlotte whispered, automatically straightening her bonnet.
Elizabeth had already seen them in the distance. Lady Catherine was strolling the streets, flanked by Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Behind her, Anne de Bourgh trailed like a lady in waiting. Elizabeth thought it very rude that neither gentlemen walked beside her, but then perhaps Lady Catherine had decreed it. It would seem in character.
Mr Darcy had seen them. Elizabeth could see him staring at them. He stopped, and talked to Her Ladyship. The party then proceeded to cross the street, holding up a carriage and some other people as they slowly ambled.
Elizabeth straightened her shoulders. She would have preferred not to speak to them, but there was no way they could avoid it now. She could feel Charlotte’s arm trembling slightly where their arms were linked. Poor Charlotte. Mr Collins had made her feel that she was never good enough for Her Ladyship.
“Mrs Collins. Miss Bennet.”
The two women curtseyed. Elizabeth could feel Lady Catherine’s steely gaze on her as she arose.
“You have walked all the way from the Parsonage,” Lady Catherine continued. It wasn’t a question. Her gaze had not softened. “That is most singular. It is nigh on three miles, over rugged terrain.” Her eyes lingered on Elizabeth’s dress. “Miss Bennet, your hem is spattered!”
Elizabeth met her gaze. “The track is rather muddy, Your Ladyship,” she answered evenly. Lady Catherine’s eyes widened. Obviously, she wasn’t used to people answering her quite so directly.
“It was a pleasant walk?” Mr Darcy was staring at her. “I remember how much you enjoy your rambles, Miss Bennet.”
“Quite,” answered Elizabeth, smiling archly. “I have never been afraid of exercise, Mr Darcy. I find that it rouses the spirits. I have never understood people who desire nothing but to sit in drawing rooms all day.”
“Indeed!” Lady Catherine’s eyes boggled. “That is very forthright of you, Miss Bennet.” She didn’t look pleased.
Elizabeth could see Miss de Bourgh lagging behind, as if she didn’t know what to do. Ignoring Lady Catherine, Elizabeth turned to her.
“And how are you finding your walk, Miss de Bourgh?” she asked, raising her voice as if she were talking to someone infirm.
Anne looked startled at being addressed. “Q-q-quite well, Miss Bennet,” she whispered, blushing to the roots of her hairline. The whole party had turned to her. Anne looked as if she might venture to say something else, but Lady Catherine stopped her.
“It is merely a stroll, Miss Bennet,” Her Ladyship said. “My daughter is not well enough to take walks, not as you seem to do. I find it most peculiar that you say you enjoy such taxing activities.”
“We are all different, Your Ladyship,” Elizabeth smiled. “My sisters and I were brought up to take long country walks, so I am used to it.” She turned back to Anne. “If you go a little further every day, I am sure that you would raise your stamina.” Anne smiled tentatively at her.
“My daughter does not want to ‘raise her stamina’, as you so bluntly put it!” Lady Catherine cocked her head higher. “Young ladies should know their limitations, Miss Bennet. I see that your mother was clearly lacking in showing you and your sisters what they should be.”
Elizabeth reddened. “Thank you for your good opinion, Your Ladyship. But we really should be going, shouldn’t we, Charlotte? It is a long walk, as you have reminded us so eloquently, and we should be turning back if we are to make luncheon on time.”
Both women curtseyed again, then turned to walk away. “You shouldn’t have said that, Lizzy,” Charlotte whispered as they scurried away. “She will tell Mr Collins, and I shall never hear the end of it.”
“She was rude,” Elizabeth whispered back. “I will deal with Mr Collins, should the need arise, Charlotte. Do not worry.” They kept walking.
“Well, I never!” Lady Catherine was shaking her head. “Miss Bennet is a singular young woman, to express her opinions so forcefully. I see a lack of proper breeding there.”
No one answered her. Mr Darcy was gazing after the two women as they departed, ignoring his aunt completely. As
did Anne de Bourgh, who was trying very hard not to notice Colonel Fitzwilliam’s head turn toward her.
Chapter Three
Elizabeth sat on the settee in the drawing room at Rosings, trying very hard to stifle a yawn. They had been sitting here, waiting for Lady Catherine to deign to enter, for well on half an hour. Her Ladyship had clearly thought that she should keep the guests that she had invited waiting. There was no sign of either Mr Darcy or Colonel Fitzwilliam, nor Miss de Bourgh.
“I wonder how much longer we must wait,” Elizabeth said to the group. Maria was sitting next to her. Mr Collins and Charlotte were on the opposite settee, and Sir Lucas was warming his hands against the fire.
“My dear Miss Bennet!” Mr Collins eyes widened. “It is entirely at the discretion of Her Ladyship as to when she should patronise us with her presence. It is an honour entirely to be sitting here awaiting her.” He glanced nervously over his shoulder, as if Lady Catherine might suddenly be standing there.
“I am so honoured to be sitting here!” Maria exclaimed. “I have no desire to be anywhere else.” She glanced at Mr Collins for approval, which he gave with a quick nod of his head.
“Quite so, sister,” he answered.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Sighing, she stood up. “Well, I might take a quick turn around the garden,” she announced. “Tell Her Ladyship that I shall come back directly.”
“Cousin,” warned Mr Collins. Maria looked alarmed.
Charlotte laid a hand on her husband’s arm. “Lizzy, you will be quick, won’t you?” she said to her friend.
“Of course,” she smiled.
As soon as she entered the garden, Elizabeth felt her breath expel. It had been so stuffy in the drawing room, and even though the day was not warm, it felt good to get some air. The garden was meticulously manicured, with well-defined paths. She knew that Lady Catherine would be offended, but she wouldn’t be too long. She felt a sudden stab of guilt over what Charlotte would be enduring, however. She could picture Mr Collins berating her.
She took a deep breath. She wasn’t enjoying her stroll while she ruminated on poor Charlotte.
The garden was as ostentatious as the house, filled with imposing hedges and large marble statues. There was an impressive variety of rose bushes, however, and Elizabeth was admiring them when she heard a sound behind a hedge. A slight cough. It might only be a gardener, of course, but Elizabeth’s curiosity was piqued. She turned back towards the noise.
Anne de Bourgh was sitting on a bench, gazing towards the house. Her liquid brown eyes looked sad.
“Miss de Bourgh?”
Anne jumped, turning her head quickly towards Elizabeth.
“Oh, Miss Bennet!” The young woman sounded breathless. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.” She gazed fearfully around. “Are you walking with my mother?”
Elizabeth smiled. “Never fear,” she said. “My party are awaiting Her Ladyship in the drawing room. I thought that I might take a quick stroll. It was quite stuffy in there, and to be quite frank, I was a trifle bored.”
Anne’s eyes widened. “You walked off, while awaiting my mother?” She couldn’t have looked more shocked if Elizabeth had told her she had grown an extra arm.
Elizabeth shrugged. “I shan’t be long,” she answered. She sat on the opposite bench, looking at Anne. “And now I am glad that I decided to. It gives me a chance to speak to you.”
“Speak to me?” Anne gazed around fearfully again. Then she dropped her voice. “I am afraid I am not supposed to be out here either, Miss Bennet. My mother insists that the cold air isn’t good for me, but I often feel so confined in my chambers. I am afraid that I wasn’t told of your visit to us today or else I would have come to the drawing room immediately. You shouldn’t be kept waiting so long.”
“You weren’t told?” Elizabeth frowned. “That is peculiar!”
Anne coughed again. “My mother doesn’t like to tax me with too many visitors,” she said. “She likes me to stay in my chambers mostly, on account of my poor health. But…” she took a deep breath, then continued, “…I think that I wasn’t told today because she doesn’t want me to see too much of you, in particular. I am sorry if I offend you.”
“I am not offended,” Elizabeth said. “Don’t worry about me. I am used to not being the favourite person in the room.”
“Oh, I think that she likes you!” Anne said. “Well…sort of. I think that deep down she admires your spirit, but she doesn’t like to be challenged overtly.”
“I have noticed,” Elizabeth said drily. She looked around the garden. “What of Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam? Are they also walking the grounds?”
Anne coloured slightly. “I do not know,” she said. “Perhaps they have gone for a ride.”
“Perhaps,” Elizabeth agreed. “Although I am a bit sad for you that your fiancée isn’t taking every chance he can to spend time with you.”
Anne looked startled. “Mr Darcy? My cousin has never sought out my company, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth paused, considering. “I am acquainted with Mr Darcy from his time in Hertfordshire. I must say, he didn’t win many admirers in the neighbourhood. Some said that his demeanour was too proud, and I have to say that I concur with that opinion.”
“He mentioned that he knew you,” Anne said. “He thinks highly of you, I believe.”
“Highly of me?” Elizabeth laughed. “I very much doubt it, Miss de Bourgh! Mr Darcy made his thoughts about me very clear the first time that we met, when he refused to dance with me at a local ball, despite being pressed.”
“That was not gentlemanly,” Anne gasped.
Elizabeth shrugged, again. “I have never sought his good opinion,” she said. “Do you think that your wedding will take place soon, Miss de Bourgh?”
At the mention of her impending marriage, Anne paled. “That is dependent on my mother,” she whispered. “The engagement has just been announced, so I would think that it would be a while before a wedding date is set.” She didn’t smile. In fact, she looked so miserable that Elizabeth felt sorry for her again. Well, who wouldn’t be miserable at the thought of marrying the haughty Mr Darcy? Elizabeth could understand that.
But was there something more to it? She thought again of the look that had passed between Miss de Bourgh and Colonel Fitzwilliam the night that the engagement was announced. Charlotte had told her she was being fanciful in imagining that there was anything between Miss de Bourgh and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Charlotte had told her to let it go. But looking at the pale, miserable face of the young woman in front of her, Elizabeth felt certain that her first instinct was correct.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam seems pleasant,” she said, watching Anne’s face closely as she spoke. “He doesn’t seem to be inflicted with overweening pride, like Mr Darcy does. Does he come to Rosings often?”
Anne bit her lip. “He comes to visit every year,” she replied, softly. “Well, most years. There have been some that he has missed. But he says that those years were unavoidable. He told me…” her voice drifted off. She looked at Elizabeth.
Elizabeth smiled at her. “Well, that says something about his character,” she continued carefully. “He comes to visit his aunt every year, even though he is a busy man. He must be awfully fond of your mother, to come to visit like clockwork. They are close?”
Anne stared off into the distance. “He is dutiful,” she said. “My mother expects it, and the Colonel is always mindful of doing what is expected of him. He is a man of honour, Miss Bennet.”
“I do not doubt it,” Elizabeth said. “He struck me as a man who knows what is the right thing to do. It must be grating for him, though, to visit every year just out of duty. Especially when Her Ladyship can be so demanding of those who wait on her.”
“He doesn’t mind,” Anne said, smiling tenderly. “He told me that he would endure a thousand visits to Rosings each year, if he could…” she trailed off again, shaking her head. “But I shouldn’t speak of the Colonel, or Mr Darcy fo
r that matter. My mother wouldn’t like it.”
“Your mother isn’t here,” said Elizabeth, gently. “I promise that I will not mention anything that we speak of here, Miss de Bourgh.”
But Anne was shaking her head again, glancing anxiously around the garden. “I must return to my chambers.” She stood up, then she looked at Elizabeth shyly. “It was most pleasant speaking with you, Miss Bennet. I do so admire your forthrightness. It is a quality sorely lacking in many, I fear. Thank you.”
Elizabeth stood also. “It was my pleasure, Miss de Bourgh. I am so glad that I unexpectedly had the chance to converse with you.”
“Miss Bennet!”
Both ladies jumped. They turned to see Lady Catherine standing there. She didn’t look happy.
