Chapter 2

Monday, 9 th March 1812, Hunsford Parsonage

E lizabeth’s journey to Hunsford was a source of interest and dispute in the Bennet family.

Since Charlotte’s engagement and then marriage, a certain distance had crept into their relationship—a source of sadness and regret as Elizabeth valued their long-standing friendship. She had decided to make the journey to Kent to try to regain their previous closeness; Charlotte was not only her dearest friend but also, along with Jane and Mrs Gardiner, her trusted confidante.

“I cannot imagine your reasons for going there!” Mrs Bennet had lamented more than once. “Perhaps to witness how they, in league with Sir William, plan to take possession of Longbourn!”

Although the situation was far from dire, given Mr Bennet was alive and in good health, Elizabeth could not help but wonder whether she could maintain her friendship with the future mistress of their home.

“Please, Mama, do not speak in such a manner,” she eventually responded, attempting to quell her mother’s anxieties and her own doubts. “Charlotte has taken nothing from us. Must I remind you that Mr Collins once sought to marry one of us?”

Rather than soothing Mrs Bennet, these words only served to further upset her. “Of course I know my daughters handed Longbourn to Charlotte on a silver platter, deeming themselves too good to wed that man!”

Fortunately, Elizabeth’s hesitations were eased one morning when Sir William paid a visit to her father, and they spent a good hour in the library.

Mr Bennet appeared in the parlour with an expression that left the ladies quite confused, speaking in a forceful tone that was uncharacteristic of him. “My dear daughters, I have had a long and encouraging discussion with my old friend Sir William,” he began. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief, realising that there was no bad blood between Longbourn and Lucas Lodge, and that eased her heart, knowing she would be able to repair her friendship with Charlotte.

“Sir William,” her father continued, “has assured me that when the time comes, you will have a full year to vacate Longbourn.”

“Oh!” Mrs Bennet exclaimed. If Elizabeth and Mary understood their father’s words, Kitty and Lydia looked on in confusion, and when Mr Bennet patiently explained the situation, the younger girls burst into tears.

To everyone’s surprise, Mary spoke up. “Do not worry, Papa. I shall marry promptly if a suitable gentleman proposes, and I shall care of us all.”

Her words were so unexpected and endearing that Mr Bennet, in an unusual display of affection, embraced her, whispering, “Thank you, my dear!”

Elizabeth felt that more than Sir William’s reassurance, Mary’s words comforted her father. They demonstrated that his daughters would face his departure with dignity and courage, striving together to build a future for themselves.

The following day, Elizabeth wrote to Charlotte, expressing her intention to visit, and Sir William’s trip to Kent provided the perfect opportunity for her to do so.

Every object on the journey to Kent had been new and interesting to Elizabeth. She had admired the countryside, the fields that were showing the first signs of spring, and the delightful villages they passed through. The day of travel had caused her to find herself in a rare state of enjoyment when they arrived at the Parsonage.

Mr Collins and Charlotte had appeared at the door, and nods and smiles were exchanged by the whole party as they approached, with Charlotte welcomed her with the liveliest pleasure. Elizabeth was more and more satisfied with her decision to come when she found herself so affectionately received.

Now, here she was, in Charlotte’s cosy parlour, beside a cheerful fire, speaking to her old friend while Maria looked at her sister with immense admiration.

“Your home is delightful and elegantly appointed,” Elizabeth remarked, her genuine praise obviating the need for mere polite comments as, indeed, she did find the Parsonage to be tasteful and pleasant.

“Oh, thank you, but I must confess that we have done very little ourselves—the former vicar and his wife deserve all the credit.”

“Where are they now?” Elizabeth asked.

“They moved north to be closer to their families.”

Although Charlotte clearly accepted that explanation, Elizabeth was certain their departure had something to do with the formidable lady residing just across the road at the majestic Rosings estate. Everything at the Parsonage and in Mr Collins’s life seemed to revolve around his patroness, Lady Catherine.

Most likely, the previous vicar fled north to escape her , Elizabeth mused, though she kept this thought to herself. Even though their friendship appeared as steadfast as ever, there were subjects Elizabeth avoided out of consideration. At the same time, jesting had been forbidden of late as Charlotte, since she became Mr Collins’s wife, seemed to have lost her sense of humour. As she gazed at Charlotte’s kind face, Elizabeth could not help but wonder whether her friend had ever truly enjoyed jesting or if her frequent visits to the Bennets’ parlour had merely created that impression. Yet some questions were destined to remain unanswered.

Despite these thoughts and doubts about their friendship, they spent several delightful days together—taking long walks around Rosings, visiting Hunsford and Charlotte’s new acquaintances, and receiving guests from Mr Collins’s parish.

Elizabeth tried to imagine herself in Charlotte’s position. She had to admit that, aside from being Mr Collins’s wife, the other aspects of life at the Parsonage were quite agreeable. She could picture herself as a vicar’s wife, forming friendships with the local ladies, addressing their concerns, and participating in community life, while the prospect of having such a lovely house to call her own secretly appealed to her.

For the first time in her life, Elizabeth contemplated the true meaning of marriage. It was curious that this revelation occurred while observing Charlotte rather than her own mother, whom she had witnessed in that role throughout her life. But Charlotte was her friend, they had grown up together, and now she was a wife—with responsibilities, a household, and—Elizabeth could not help but blush at the thought—a bedroom, about which she dared not reflect for long.

Yet Elizabeth realised that, in seeking love and marriage, she must also consider that responsibility of becoming a man’s wife.

Has our friendship endured the trials to which it has been subjected? Elizabeth pondered as she penned a letter to Mrs Gardiner, a week after arriving at the Parsonage.

Although I admire how Charlotte has settled into her new life, village, and community, every time we are together, I see she is on a different path from mine. Living with Mr Collins, not simply the fact that she is a wife, has transformed her into someone I still listen to but do not truly feel is a friend.

It is not difficult to face this new Charlotte for now, as when we are alone, she is almost the Charlotte I remember, and we are alone quite often, as Mr Collins not only serves as the vicar of a rather prominent parish but also as Lady Catherine’s personal butler, valet, groom—any role she requires. He runs to the stables to see whether her majesty’s carriage is ready and fetches her a glass of water, milk, or lemonade—whatever she demands. I would not be too surprised if he also cleans her chambers (sorry, I could not resist this image!).

However, his hectic life has its advantages. It gives us ample time alone, particularly now Sir William has gone home, which we spend exploring the area, meeting Charlotte’s new acquaintances, or taking leisurely walks around Rosings—Charlotte has been offered the great privilege of using the park for her walks.

I can tell you without any trace of mockery that Rosings is indeed a majestic place. It is not to my taste as I like modernity, but still it is undoubtedly elegant, meticulously maintained, and impressive, set within a vast, enchanting park that will come alive as soon as spring arrives.

We have been invited to dine there once, and I had the opportunity to admire the inside of the house. All I can say is that, despite her overbearing nature and her evident disdain for commoners, Lady Catherine is an excellent mistress. Everything under her control runs impeccably—the house, the gardens, and the estate, which I learnt encompasses all the land around Hunsford. It is curious that this lady, whom I cannot say I particularly like, serves as the most striking example of a woman capable of performing activities traditionally reserved for men. It was not difficult to discover her ‘accomplishments’ during the two hours of dinner, during which she and Mr Collins spoke solely of her ladyship’s achievements. And, with relative surprise, I noticed that Charlotte regarded Lady Catherine in the same adoring manner as her husband did.

In the end, it provides the answer to my question. Affection remains in our friendship, but our deep connection has vanished. I must confess that I am saddened by this realisation. However, this is the reality of life, where friendships may go cold, and men may disappoint.

But dear aunt, I have other news to share, and I can almost hear your reproach for not beginning with it, yet my reasons are easy to explain. Upon returning to my room, I considered asking for the carriage to take me to London, but as I began to write this letter, I decided to remain here, and I trust you will approve of my decision.

In a most enthusiastic manner, Mr Collins announced that Lady Catherine would receive guests in the coming days. I admit I nearly choked on my dinner when he revealed the names of the guests—Mr Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, who is Mr Darcy’s cousin, and Mrs Barstow, a close friend of Lady Catherine’s.

Imagine my surprise and frustration! Yet, for once, I resolved to act wisely and consider Jane’s interests. This new situation presents a genuine opportunity to learn more about Mr Bingley.

I shall stay for a while, dear aunt, and endeavour to understand the events of last November. Certainly, Jane has not forgotten Mr Bingley, and we must find a way for her to close this chapter in her life—either by arranging a meeting between them or by obtaining proof that he did not love her, allowing her to conclude the matter herself.

I shall return with many details soon,

Your loving niece, Elizabeth.

Elizabeth sat at the small table facing the window, unable to move. The evening was exceptionally clear, with a starry sky casting a radiant glow, and she could see Rosings from her window. She had not revealed the entire truth to her aunt.

While her main reason for staying was Jane, Elizabeth was also curious to see Mr Darcy with his family—among those who constituted his social circle. She wanted to discover whether his aloofness was simply his general disposition or if he had not liked the company he had encountered in Hertfordshire. For Jane’s sake, she prayed that Mr Darcy would prove amiable among his family and willing to shed light on the mystery surrounding their abrupt departure last November.

Elizabeth wanted to meet his family, including his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mrs Barstow. She recalled his mention of Mrs Barstow accompanying his sister to London and being referred to as his aunt.

She was genuinely interested in these individuals. After meeting Lady Catherine and finding her to be every bit as arrogant as her nephew, Elizabeth was eager to meet others from their circle and form her own opinions. However, she could not help but remember the pale girl, older than herself, who had scarcely uttered a word during dinner and, to her surprise, had turned out to be the heiress of Rosings.

She was curious to observe those members of the ton when they were amongst their own kind—those who lived on grand estates like Rosings or Pemberley, Mr Darcy’s home in Derbyshire, which had been highly praised by the Bingley sisters. Were they all like Mr Darcy and his aunt, or could some be amiable and pleasant, regardless of their station in life? This question troubled Elizabeth. Until her encounters with Mr Darcy and the Bingley sisters, she had believed that her father’s status as a gentleman placed her family in a position of respectability and equality with all other gentlefolk—only to be utterly deceived by most of the people residing at Netherfield.

She could not miss this opportunity to see Mr Darcy in his own environment—the arrogant aristocrat who did not like her or her family and who had come to say goodbye in that veiled way, which was, after all, better than Mr Bingley’s disappearance.

She was waiting for Charlotte to come into her room and discuss the incredible news, but after more than half an hour of waiting, she prepared for the night. Her friend would not come.

While combing her hair, she tried not to be sad. Yet, despite herself, she remembered all those times when Charlotte had run the two miles to Longbourn only to share a small occurrence from Meryton.

That night, even though Mrs Collins was only a few steps down the hall, she was farther away than the nearest star.