12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

March 23, 1812 Hunsford, Kent Elizabeth

T he summons to Rosings Park for the evening meal came unexpectedly. Jane received it with grace, taking the missive from Martha and breaking the seal. She sighed and set it aside. “It seems we have been invited to dine with Lady Catherine and her guests tonight,” she said calmly.

“But Jane, did you not—” Elizabeth’s words were cut off.

“The roast meat can be served tomorrow. I shall instruct Cook to save it until then.” Jane stood and pushed away from the table.

“What do you suppose caused this abrupt summons?” Elizabeth turned to Charlotte for her opinion.

Her friend finished chewing before replying. “Lady Catherine’s other guests likely try her patience. I suppose she wishes for us to increase the party, thus decreasing her need to speak to Lady de Bourgh and Sir Andrew.”

“You are probably correct.”

“Have you noticed that Martha often goes to Rosings Park?”

The change of subject took Elizabeth off guard, and she looked at Charlotte in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Martha escapes as soon as her duties are completed. I have observed her hastening toward the great house every afternoon.” Her friend shrugged.

Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. “Why have her habits so drawn your attention?”

“Servants gossip. I worry that Jane’s actions are being carried to Lady Catherine’s ears. Her every mood seems to be under scrutiny.”

Guilt filled Elizabeth. “I had not noticed,” she confessed. “Jane seems so composed.”

“It might be nothing.” Charlotte sawed at the ham on her plate. “No one could disapprove of your sister. Mrs. Collins is practically perfect in every way.”

This praise pleased Elizabeth, as it always did when others recognized her elder sister’s goodness. “Shall we warn Jane?”

“I am certain your sister knows.” Charlotte continued eating, and Elizabeth returned to her own meal.

Jane returned from the kitchen and settled herself. Elizabeth watched as she pushed food around her plate, not really eating anything other than a slice of lightly buttered toast. Concerned, she asked, “Jane? Are you well?”

“Hmm?” Jane replied distractedly. “Oh, yes, I am well, Lizzy. Merely feeling a little poorly this morning.”

“Why, then, did you not make your excuses to Lady Catherine?” Elizabeth was perplexed. If Jane was ill, they ought not to venture out.

“I shall be returned to full health by this evening,” Jane assured her. “Perhaps it is best if I retire to my chamber for a rest until luncheon. Mr. Collins is attending to his flock. Will you ladies be content to occupy yourselves for the rest of the morning?”

“Yes.” Charlotte quickly agreed, and Elizabeth followed suit. They finished their breakfast quietly, the former excusing herself when she finished to see to her correspondence.

“Will you walk out, Lizzy?” Jane finished the last of her tea and stood.

“I believe I shall. I have a letter from Mama to peruse. It has sat unread for two days.” It is very bad of me; she has not spoken to me since… Elizabeth frowned as she realized her mother had not said a word to her since November twenty-seventh.

Jane chuckled, not noticing her sister’s sudden change of mood. “Yes, see what she wants. I have not had a letter in a week—maybe longer. I should be pleased to hear news from Longbourn.”

Elizabeth noted that Jane did not refer to Longbourn as home. I suppose it no longer is, she mused. Her sister left, and Elizabeth went upstairs to retrieve her letter and her outerwear.

She walked a different path, one that took her to a folly at the edge of Rosings’s parkland. Settling herself on a bench with a view over the tenant fields, Elizabeth broke the seal on her mother’s letter and read.

Dear Lizzy,

Oh, what a fuss in Meryton! It seems we have a thief in our midst. Last Sunday, Mrs. Long summoned the magistrate to her home. Someone pilfered four forks and five spoons from her best silverware. The servants have been searched and the militia is on high alert. No one knows what could have happened. Mrs. Long claims the set was complete before her last dinner party, and then the missing utensils were discovered when the maid polished them the following week. Any number of dishonest people could have taken them.

Our four-and-twenty families agreed to search each of our own homes to discover if anything else was missing, and every one of us has discovered some item has been stolen. Lady Lucas claims her best candlesticks and Maria’s jeweled brooch is gone. Your uncle Phillips’s cufflinks have vanished. And my pearl necklace and matching hairpins are no longer in my jewelry case! Oh, what if the thief murders us in our beds?

So, Lizzy, the neighborhood is overwrought, and everyone is increasing security around their homes. Your father has done nothing for Longbourn other than tell the servants to keep an eye out for mischief. He spends all his time in his study, you know, and I cannot get him to stir except for meals. At least he appears to be doing estate duties. Heaven knows he ought to have done something about it years ago. He is interviewing men for the position of steward! What do you make of that?

I must close now. The officers are dining with us tonight. Lydia and Kitty are very excited, even though Mr. Wickham will not be among them. He is courting Mary King now, and rumors are that an engagement is imminent. I do hope he is satisfied with his choice. Her dowry may be grand, but her features are nothing to my girls.

Be sure to do your best to secure a suitor while in Kent. It is unlikely another such opportunity will arise. Jane is very good to have such an ungrateful girl such as yourself in her home, especially since you were meant for Mr. Collins in her stead. My strictures from November are unchanged.

Farewell,

Mama

Elizabeth closed the letter and stuck it into her pocket. Oh Mama. She likely fretted unnecessarily. Papa would protect his family from thieves and miscreants, would he not? But hiring a steward? Hope filled her; mayhap her father finally meant to behave as a proper master ought. Mrs. Bennet’s words of rebuke were unsurprising, though acknowledging her mother’s continued displeasure and the reminder of her words in November unsettled Elizabeth.

Mr. Collins’s effusions could not be suppressed when he learned they had once again been asked to dine with Lady Catherine. His anticipation knew no bounds, and he expressed his enthusiasm that he was to meet two more exalted personages. The entire parsonage party departed a quarter of an hour earlier than necessary and arrived at Rosings Park before they were due.

They were shown into the sitting room where Lady Catherine awaited. None of the other guests had yet to join them.

“You are early, Mr. Collins.” Her words to Elizabeth’s cousin were harsh and filled with judgment. “Punctuality means you are on time, not early, not late. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, your ladyship, though I must say my eagerness to be in your presence, and that of your noble guests could not be suppressed. Your condescension knows no limits. Thank you for your gracious invitation.”

“Yes, yes, Mr. Collins. Do sit down.” Lady Catherine waved at chairs, and they took their seats. They were barely settled when Sir Andrew came in with Miss de Bourgh on his arm. Mrs. Jenkinson trailed behind, a carefully blank expression on her face. Elizabeth glanced at Lady Catherine and noted the fierce scowl of disapproval directed toward her nephew and daughter.

“Sit there, Anne.” Lady Catherine pointed to the empty seat beside her throne. There would be no space for Sir Andrew to join her there. Miss de Bourgh complied, and Sir Andrew joined Charlotte on the settee. Elizabeth watched her friend and noted her displeasure. Charlotte was far from pleased.

Lady de Bourgh entered the room next. She looked every bit her station, from her fashionably styled hair to the satin slippers that peeked out from under her gown. “I did not hear the gong. Is supper ready?”

“Your age must have affected your hearing.” Lady Catherine sniffed in disdain.

“I did not hear it either, Mother.” Miss de Bourgh’s words were innocent, but the grimace on Lady Catherine’s face spoke volumes. The absence of the gong had been deliberate.

“You must have been resting. The gong rang, just as it always does.” Lady Catherine waved her hand, dismissing her daughter’s suppositions. “Well, now that we are here, let us go in.”

Lady de Bourgh, still standing, beckoned to Mr. Collins. “My daughter-in-law has yet to perform introductions.”

“That is Mr. Collins,” Lady Catherine said stiffly. “He is my parson.”

The other lady nodded. “You will escort me,” she said to Elizabeth’s cousin. “My grandson will escort my granddaughter.” Mr. Collins complied, extending his arm to Lady de Bourgh. He led her into the dining room, leaving Lady Catherine behind, fuming after being usurped in her own home.

Lady Catherine hurried after them, no doubt to protect her place at the head of the table, and the rest of the party trailed behind. Miss de Bourgh did not go to the dining room on Sir Andrew’s arm but leaned heavily on Mrs. Jenkinson instead. Sir Andrew instead offered his arm to Charlotte, and she took it, looking none too pleased.

“Will dinner be very entertaining?” Elizabeth whispered to her sister. “Sparks fly, and the first course has yet to be served.

“I hope not,” her sister whispered back. “Their antipathy for each other strains my patience. I do not like to see others unhappy.”

“You are the same Jane in essentials.” Elizabeth teased playfully, nudging her sister.

They entered the dining room and Elizabeth took her seat between Mrs. Jenkinson and Mr. Collins. She groaned. There would be no conversation. Her cousin would be consumed with his meal and Mrs. Jenkinson with her charge.

Lady Catherine had secured her place at the head of the table, but Lady de Bourgh had taken the chair opposite. Her posture was stiff and challenging, daring her hostess to insist that she move. Lady Catherine did not deign to acknowledge the slight; instead, she gestured to the footmen to start serving the meal.

“I wonder that you came tonight, Mrs. Collins.” Lady Catherine spoke loud enough for the entire table to hear. “I have it on good authority that you were ill this morning.”

“I am well, madam.” Jane’s words were firm, kind; insistent yet reassuring.

“You do not seem ill.” Lady Catherine stared at Jane, examining her every feature. “You are a little pale, but not overly so. Do not let your health lapse, Mrs. Collins. I cannot abide sickly women. They are useless.”

Harsh words from a woman with a sickly daughter, Elizabeth thought.

“Your concern and guidance are duly noted, your ladyship.” Jane sipped her soup daintily and Elizabeth silently cheered her sister’s reply.

“You are very attentive to your neighbor, Catherine.” Lady de Bourgh spoke from her seat at the other end of the table.

“Nothing is beneath her ladyship’s notice.” Mr. Collins said this proudly, and Elizabeth almost laughed. “Her condescension and sound advice are well-received by all.”

“I believe most would call it interference, not advice.” Lady de Bourgh took a sip of her soup. “It must be exhausting, Catherine, managing not only your own household, but every home in Hunsford.”

“Do not be ridiculous. I do not manage any household but mine.” Lady Catherine’s affront was clear.

“Oh? Tell me, Mrs. Collins, does her ladyship grant you her… advice ?”

Jane’s eyes widened and she looked from Lady Catherine to Lady de Bourgh, and then at her husband. “Yes, Lady Catherine has been so kind as to aid me in my new situation.”

Lady de Bourgh smiled pleasantly. “And has her aid been helpful?”

Jane’s cheeks flushed and her eyes took on a desperate look. She swallowed and answered nervously. “I have considered many of her instructions.”

“But you have not employed them? No? Then you are wiser than most. I recall one incumbent of Hunsford who told Sir Andrew that his patroness frequently overturned his orders at the butcher, ordering him to purchase inferior cuts of meat. My grandson could do nothing, of course, for the situation was out of his purview. I do hope the new butcher is less inclined to follow Lady Catherine’s edicts.”

“Mr. Palmer did not need the finest cuts of beef!” Lady Catherine was incensed. “His behavior was frivolous and foolish. He had not a wife to guide his habits, and so it was necessary for me to step in. It is why I insisted that Mr. Collins marry. ‘You must marry,’ I told him. And he has made an admirable choice.”

“That remains to be seen. I have only the slightest acquaintance with Mrs. Collins. She seems levelheaded. Mr. Collins will likely benefit from her apparent good sense.”

“Thank you, Lady de Bourgh.” Jane spoke her gratitude quietly.

Lady Catherine and Lady de Bourgh bantered back and forth for the rest of the meal, and Elizabeth wondered how they had got along when Lady Catherine had first married and come to Rosings Park.

“It is a shame you did not know your grandfather, Anne.” After a tense first course, the conversation turned and became more pleasant. “He died before my eldest son married.” Lady de Bourgh granted Lady Catherine a pointed scowl. “Why Lewis married, when he did not need to, I do not know. Arthur had already married and sired a son.”

“I do not blame my uncle for doing so. Father was happy enough in his law practice.” Sir Andrew spoke up from his seat, lifting his glass in a mock salute.

“And then your dear mother, Andrew, died before you could know her. It was very tragic.” Lady de Bourgh dabbed at her eyes with her serviette, though Elizabeth saw not a tear in her eye. “Your mama… she was a remarkable woman! Did you know your father married for love? It was not the done thing in those days, but they were determined. I did not withhold my approval, of course, since my own marriage was a love match. Marrying for anything less is foolish.”

Jane’s cheeks flushed again, and Elizabeth felt affront on her sister’s behalf. She agreed with Lady de Bourgh, but her words were hardly suitable for the dinner table. The lady deliberately attempted to provoke her hostess. Was the pair’s relationship so acrimonious that contention would reign at every gathering?

“I wish I had met them.” Miss de Bourgh sounded wistful. “My father spoke very highly of his relations.”

“Yes, Lewis was a good boy. He was five-and-thirty before he took a bride. I thought he would never marry.” Lady de Bourgh sipped from her glass before continuing. “My dear friend, Lady Margaret, the Countess of Matlock, approached him one day while he resided in London to arrange his match. How many seasons were you out, Catherine? Five? Six? My dear friend held the belief that younger sisters could not come out until the elder were married, and Anne, her youngest, was nineteen.”

So that is why Lady Catherine was scandalized to learn all five Bennet sisters were out at once. Her ladyship’s appalling behavior came from her upbringing. Elizabeth felt pleased at her new understanding. She glanced at Lady Catherine. The lady stared into her glass, a pinched expression on her face. She had long since ceased her attempts at dominating the conversation around her table. Instead, she sat silently. Surprisingly, Elizabeth realized that she pitied her. Obviously, her family had grown desperate and married her off against her inclination.

Suddenly, the aforementioned lady stood. “Let us depart to the sitting room,” she commanded.

Even she must have limits to her patience. Elizabeth stood to follow, hurrying after Jane and Charlotte. Lady de Bourgh, her granddaughter, and Mrs. Jenkinson came last.

They had not yet settled themselves when the doors opened and Brisby entered.

“Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, madam.”

Elizabeth stared in shock as the last man in the world whom she wished to see entered the room and bowed to Lady Catherine.