10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

March 1812 Hunsford, Kent Elizabeth

“ G oodbye, my dear.” Mr. Bennet kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. His tricorn hat sat upon his head; his cape draped over his shoulders. “Enjoy your visit with your sister.”

Elizabeth nodded, searching his face for… something.

He smiled pleasantly and tapped her nose as he had done when she was a child. “What is that look for?” he asked.

“I hardly know.” She shrugged. “I shall miss you.”

“You will be home before you know it,” he replied before he turned to Jane.

“I am pleased you have found contentment.” He took Jane’s hands and tenderly kissed both of them. “I am so proud of the woman you have become, my Jane.”

“I love you, Papa,” Jane replied. “Write to me.”

Mr. Bennet laughed. “You know me to be a dreadful correspondent, but for you, I will make every effort.”

“That is all I can ask.” Jane hugged Mr. Bennet tightly.

“Thank you for your visit, dear cousin.” Mr. Collins stepped forward and held the carriage door open. “As you can see, your daughter’s position is enviable. She is an excellent wife and mistress, and I flatter myself that I have made the wisest decision in my choice of wife.”

Elizabeth noted Charlotte’s wince and wondered at its cause. Mr. Collins rambled on until the horses stamped their feet impatiently.

“Time to be off.” Mr. Bennet stepped away from the others and climbed aboard the carriage. He waved as it set off, and Elizabeth waved until the carriage rounded a bend in the road and disappeared.

The four remaining people filed inside the parsonage to the tune of Mr. Collins’s continued expressions of delight at his father-in-law's visit. He continued to speak as he made his way into his study and his voice could be heard even after he closed the door.

The ladies continued to Jane’s private parlor. “I am off to the village,” Jane said as she rifled through the papers on her writing desk. “Ah! Here it is. I need to procure a few items. Will you both accompany me?”

And so, the days following fell into a pattern. Elizabeth and Charlotte were happy to help Jane with her duties, which included visiting the parishioners, tending the garden, and decorating the chapel for services. Elizabeth still walked out in the mornings after breakfast and took great delight in exploring the surrounding area.

They received an invitation to take tea with Lady Catherine and her daughter one sunny Wednesday in the middle of March. Jane seemed a little vexed, having prepared a special treat for their own tea, but merely told Cook to save it for dinner.

The three arrived for tea promptly at two o’clock. Lady Catherine greeted them with a nod and gestured for them to seat themselves. Miss de Bourgh sat next to Mrs. Jenkinson, and showed no interest in the conversation, it being dominated by her mother.

She is a colorless creature. Pale, sickly, and she looks rather cross. Yes, she will make him a proper wife. Elizabeth’s thoughts kept her occupied as Lady Catherine spoke and she wondered if Mr. Darcy had learned to be silent in company because his aunt often controlled the conversation when he was in her company.

Mr. Darcy frequently had residence in her thoughts, though she knew not why. She had thought about the gentleman since the twenty-sixth of November at the Netherfield ball. He and the rest of the party had departed without taking their leave of the neighborhood. And then she saw him at Gunter’s… she had scarcely been able to forget him since.

Elizabeth’s gaze drifted to Jane, and she wondered for a moment if Mr. Wickham’s suppositions that Mr. Darcy had aided in keeping Mr. Bingley away were correct.

The doors to the sitting room flew open and banged against the wall, causing the entire gathering to jump in surprise. In strode a handsome man of some forty years, a towering woman on his arm, her walking stick hitting the floor as she walked. She was striking; her hair was pure white, and her face handsome, though wrinkled. She stood tall and proud, her posture unaffected by her apparent years, looking at the assembled group over the tops of a pair of spectacles.

“You!” Lady Catherine snapped. “What are you doing here?”

Behind the unexpected visitors came the butler. He huffed as if he had run down the hall after them. “Lady de Bourgh and Sir Andrew de Bourgh,” he panted. He bowed and backed slowly out of the room, closing the doors behind him.

“I have come for my granddaughter’s birthday,” Lady de Bourgh said imperiously.

Lady Catherine scoffed. “Anne’s birthday is not for another month.”

“I know. I am early.” Lady de Bourgh came forward and seated herself without an invitation.

Her hostess’s lips pinched. “I see you have brought Andrew.”

“It is Sir Andrew.” Lady de Bourgh smirked. “Perhaps you had not heard. My son has gone on to his reward. It has been a twelvemonth.… You were not at the funeral.”

“Arthur never favored me in life. Why should I condescend to honor him in death?” Lady Catherine’s lip curled in disgust.

“Just the answer I expected from you.” Lady de Bourgh tut-tutted. “I thought better of the daughter of an earl.”

“What would a lowborn woman such as yourself know of it?”

“More than you, so it seems.” The lady tapped her walking stick against the ground, the sound muffled by the thick carpet. “Introduce me to your guests, Catherine.”

“ Lady Catherine.”

“I think not. I shall call you lady when you deserve the appellation.” Lady de Bourgh sniffed. “Now, will you perform the introductions? No? Anne, you do the honors.”

Miss de Bourgh seemed to perk up a little. “Certainly, Grandmama.” She straightened and gestured to Jane. “This is Mrs. Jane Collins. She has lately married our parson. Next to her is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who is her sister, and Miss Charlotte Lucas, their dear friend. Miss Bennet and Miss Lucas have been guests at the parsonage for just shy of a fortnight. Ladies, this is my grandmother, Lady Amelia de Bourgh. The gentleman with her is my cousin, Sir Andrew de Bourgh. He is a baronet.”

“Thank you, Anne. I can see you know your manners. However did you manage to learn them properly whilst living with your mother?” Lady de Bourgh sniffed disdainfully before turning to Jane. “You are a pretty thing, Mrs. Collins,” she continued. “Your husband is very fortunate.”

“Thank you, madam.” Jane barely choked out the words. Despite her newfound confidence, she seemed to find the contention a little disconcerting.

“How long are you to remain in Hunsford, ladies?” Sir Andrew stepped forward from his position behind his grandmother’s chair. “I should like to come to know you. Rosings Park so rarely has visitors; I look forward to the diversion.”

Elizabeth allowed her sister to answer while she examined Sir Andrew. He was a well-formed man, with black hair and a strong jaw. He was certainly tall, at least as tall as Mr. Wickham. His dark eyes sparkled with good humor or mischief; Elizabeth knew not which.

“My sister and Miss Lucas will remain through April.” Jane spoke politely, her teacup steady in her hand. She placed it on the saucer and set it aside.

“Tea, Grandmother?” Miss de Bourgh turned to the tea things that sat on the table between her and her mother.

“They are not staying.” Lady Catherine glared at the interlopers.

“We are. I have already instructed Brisby to ready my usual room.” Lady de Bourgh raised an eyebrow, daring her daughter-in-law to protest. Lady Catherine did not disappoint.

“You have not been invited,” she insisted. “Besides, Briar Court is less than an hour’s drive.”

“Is it? I had not realized it was so close.” The sarcasm in her ladyship’s voice was unmistakable, and Elizabeth almost snorted into her cup. “I told you I came to visit my granddaughter. I rarely see her, for you never bring her to town, and I rarely leave it.”

Lady Catherine replied sharply. “What possessed you to do so now?”

“Andrew invited me to Briar Court. I suggested we come to Kent early so we might visit with Anne.”

“And I am happy you have come.”

The firmness in Anne’s voice surprised Elizabeth, and her countenance spoke of her pleasure at her relations’ presence. It made her washed-out features brighten, adding some color to her bland presence.

Lady Catherine looked ready to protest, but she must have had some motherly feelings regarding her daughter, for she pressed her lips into a thin line and said nothing.

“How long will you stay?” Miss de Bourgh asked.

“Mayhap a month.” Lady de Bourgh watched Lady Catherine scowl before continuing. “Maybe two.” She smirked.

Elizabeth did not care how long the visitors stayed. Her visit to Kent had just become so much more exciting.

Jane excused herself and her guests a few minutes later. There was tension in the room and its presence was not lost on any of the departing ladies. They hurried out of Rosings Park. The pace Jane set was brisk, and Elizabeth at last saw something of the old Jane Bennet in the flustered lady that rushed home.