Chapter 3

A s Maria was not feeling well the following morning, they decided to cancel their walk into Hunsford village. Instead, they chose to keep Maria company and later take a walk near the Parsonage. As they strolled towards Rosings Park, they looked at each other like they would have back home when they hid from others to share secrets. It was as if her old friend had briefly returned, and Elizabeth affectionately wrapped her arm around Charlotte’s.

“I am sorry that Maria is ill, but I cherish this time spent alone with you,” Elizabeth said, and Charlotte nodded.

Elizabeth, unable to contain her curiosity any longer, hurriedly asked about the impending arrival of Lady Catherine’s guests—a question that had been burning in her mind.

“You mean Mr Darcy?” Charlotte replied, and they laughed heartily. “I know little, only what Mr Collins mentioned last evening. They are travelling from London, and the entire household is preparing. It seems that Mrs Barstow is an old friend of Lady Catherine’s—”

“Mr Darcy mentioned that Mrs Barstow is his aunt,” Elizabeth interjected.

“Oh!” Charlotte exclaimed, surprised. “You seem to have a wealth of information about them.”

“I have a good memory. I tend to remember many unimportant details,” Elizabeth murmured, slightly embarrassed, not wishing to reveal her keen interest in the newcomers for fear that Charlotte might later recount their conversation to her husband.

Rosings was bustling with activity; they spotted busy servants through upstairs windows, and Elizabeth could not help but wonder whether Mr Collins was among them. She had to admit that he had been tolerable since their arrival—perhaps too intimate in his address as he referred to her as ‘dear cousin’ with a rather unpleasant tone. Nevertheless, he had been a relatively indifferent host, leaving Charlotte with the responsibility of taking care of her and Maria.

On the contrary, he had exhibited great deference towards Sir William, which boded well considering the promise their neighbour had made to her father. Elizabeth could accept that Charlotte led a contented life, and her husband was not unkind, but what she could not imagine was how Charlotte managed to endure a loveless marriage.

“There is something I wish to ask you,” Elizabeth whispered, her cheeks flushing; even though they were close friends, they had never broached the subject of the intimate relationship between a man and his wife.

“Yes, but there are certain matters I cannot speak of,” Charlotte replied hesitantly.

“Are you expecting a child?” Elizabeth asked with determination and observed her friend blushing and breathing heavily.

“I am not,” Charlotte replied, hastily adding, “at least not this month. An older lady from Hunsford informed me that it takes time…to…you know what I mean.”

Elizabeth nodded, although, in truth, she did not fully comprehend. As much as she knew the purpose of the wedding night, the actual details remained a mystery. She needed to gather more information, which was essential when considering a man as her future husband.

“It is a duty that a woman must perform, whether she enjoys it or not,” Charlotte asserted firmly. Elizabeth shook her head, unwilling to believe intimacy was solely about duty. But then again, Charlotte was not the person to provide her with further insight, given her reasons for accepting Mr Collins were those other than love.

That is something I shall never do! Elizabeth mused to herself. Whether one pursued love or fell in love seemed immaterial as long as, on her wedding night, she could genuinely love her husband. She felt an inexplicable eagerness to experience those moments—a fluttering in her chest. Still, she quickly scolded herself, realising that there was presently no suitable man for her to ‘pursue’. She concealed her smile from her friend, for she too had secrets, and unfortunately, love was a secret Charlotte knew nothing about.

They refrained from walking too close to the house but instead observed the bustling preparations from a distance with great interest.

“I wish to have a child as soon as possible,” Charlotte murmured. From her tone, Elizabeth gathered that what must occur to make a baby was not Charlotte’s favourite occupation.

Elizabeth had no regrets about her visit, even though their friendship had entered another phase, losing some of its depth. Being here, she gained a closer insight into the problems of married life. She began to appreciate her father’s advice to pursue love.

Amid their intimate conversation, two carriages entered the main gates of Rosings and halted before the steps. Suddenly, the front of the house filled with people, and even Lady Catherine herself emerged, accompanied by Miss de Bourgh, to receive their distinguished guests.

Elizabeth and Charlotte hastened to leave the park, realising it was no longer appropriate to remain. Still, they could not resist turning back to catch glimpses of the commotion stirred by the newcomers. While they could not discern much about those who had arrived from London, Lady Catherine’s unmistakable voice carried even from a distance.

“So, Mr Darcy is Lady Catherine’s nephew,” Elizabeth remarked, recalling the awkward encounter between Mr Darcy and Mr Collins when the vicar had nearly prostrated himself before Mr Darcy in the most elaborate bow she had ever witnessed. “What a coincidence to encounter him here,” she continued, eyeing Charlotte, who had become unusually quiet. “What troubles you, my dear?” she asked.

“I shall be candid with you,” Charlotte finally confessed .

“Of course, we have always been forthright with each other.”

“Mr Collins informed me that we are invited to dinner. I am concerned about your relationship with Mr Darcy. I am aware you do not hold him in high regard, and…he has no particular affection for you.”

“Oh!” Elizabeth exclaimed, surprised, beginning to comprehend Charlotte’s concern. It had little to do with her, but Charlotte was worried that any confrontation between Elizabeth and Mr Darcy might place her husband in a precarious position.

“I am a well-mannered and respectable lady,” Elizabeth replied, her feelings slightly wounded. “I cannot promise to remain silent if someone attacks me or my family, but I have no intention of initiating any discord—that is all I can assure you of!”

They had arrived back at the Parsonage, and so, with those last words, she retired to her room, now certain she would never again visit Charlotte.