13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

March 24, 1812 Hunsford, Kent Jane

J ane stitched the sleeve of her husband’s shirt. Having discarded his jacket while working in the garden, he caught it on a nail and there was a tear three inches long just below the shoulder. Thankfully, gentlemen wore coats, and it would be covered most of the time.

Her thoughts drifted back to the previous evening. What a fracas it had been! A polite one, but a fracas, nonetheless. Never had she seen so many insults that were so carefully concealed in polite conversation. Lady Catherine and her mother-in-law certainly did not get on, and their contention had made Jane exceedingly uncomfortable.

Jane’s confidence and self-assurance had grown in abundance since her marriage. The absence of her mother and more wild younger sisters meant that she was no longer required to be the peacemaker, the soother, the comforter… For so long she had acted in the position of a parent to her three youngest sisters without the benefit of the authority granted to a mother. Kitty and Lydia especially rarely listened to Jane or Elizabeth in matters of correction or advice, instead laughing or making light of the concern their elder sisters showed.

Now, Jane had her own household. She answered to none but her husband. Even Lady Catherine’s generous counsel was acknowledged and then set aside if it did not suit her. And when she welcomed her children to the world, the years of unwanted practice would prove beneficial at last.

Dinner the evening prior had been a trial, followed by further surprises when Mr. Darcy and an unknown gentleman had joined their party. The butler announced him as Colonel Fitzwilliam, another of Lady Catherine’s nephews.

The sight of Mr. Darcy caused Jane some pain, though she attempted to ignore it. When his gaze landed on her, she noted the consternation in his expression as he eyed her lace cap. No doubt, he wondered how and when she came to be married to her cousin so soon after Mr. Bingley’s departure.

It does not matter what Mr. Darcy thinks, Jane thought, angrily stabbing the fabric in her hand. Mr. Bingley did not come back. Mama would have written if Netherfield opened again. If he had returned before I married I… In truth, Jane did not know what she might have done if Mr. Bingley returned to Meryton before speaking her vows. Would she have cried off? To do so would make her as bad as Mr. Collins, who had given rise to Charlotte’s hopes before abandoning her without a word. Would it? I never did say ‘yes’ to his proposal.

Mr. Collins had hardly spoken two words to Charlotte since her arrival. His reaction upon seeing her had been obvious, though Jane had not questioned it further until Charlotte’s words when they first dined with Lady Catherine. Putting the pieces together, she deduced Mr. Collins’s dishonorable behavior.

Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam’s presence would add another layer to the company at Rosings Park. The next few weeks could prove entertaining… and contentious.

“My dear! Jane! Make haste, make haste! They are coming!”

Jane looked up from her mending and toward the door to the sitting room. She heard her husband’s heavy footsteps coming down the hallway toward her. The door, slightly cracked, flew open as Mr. Collins pushed against it.

“Who is coming?” she asked calmly.

Her demeanor settled him somewhat; she had always possessed the ability to soothe overwrought individuals, and it served her well in her marriage, for Mr. Collins often became overwrought.

“Her ladyship’s nephews, of course. Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam are coming down the lane even now, and Sir Andrew accompanies them! A baronet in my home! Oh, what condescension, what graciousness!” Mr. Collins’s hands waved about as he spoke, his expression one of awe and gratitude.

“I shall step out and have Martha fetch tea.” She placed her mending in the basket at her feet and stood. “Charlotte and Elizabeth are in their chambers. Will you fetch them?”

Her husband nodded enthusiastically and bounded out of the room, calling for their guests as he went.

Jane shook her head. The gentlemen can likely hear him from the lane. She stopped the thought there, for it could lead to bitter musings she did not wish to entertain. She had made her choice, and overall, her marriage pleased her. Especially now. Her courses had not come since before she wed, and if Aunt Gardiner’s words the night before her wedding were accurate, she was very likely with child. I married for love, she reminded herself. And now that love will be multiplied. Yes, her ridiculous husband sometimes frustrated or embarrassed her, but despite his nonsensical pomposity, his sycophancy and his worship-like behavior toward Lady Catherine, Mr. William Collins had thus far proved himself to be a kind man. Many times he displayed a tenderness that surprised her, and though she did not love him as a woman ought to love her husband, she was fond of him.

Elizabeth and Charlotte appeared at the door, without her husband. He is likely waiting to answer the door.

“What a to-do about a threesome of elevated gentlemen!” Elizabeth’s teasing tone made Jane smile.

“I believe I can thank you for this civility, Elizabeth,” she replied. “Mr. Darcy would not come so soon to wait upon me. ”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “You are imagining things. Mr. Darcy does not care one jot for my company. Did you see his scowl when he saw me last night?”

“I did not notice. We departed so soon after their arrival, you know; there was not time to renew old acquaintances.” Jane heard the knocker on the door and Mr. Collins’s words of welcome as their guests entered the room.

She stood to greet them, smiling cheerfully. “Sir Andrew, Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, welcome.” She gestured to the empty seats. “Will you not sit down?”

“Mrs. Collins, it is a pleasure to see you again so soon. Dinner last night was very entertaining, was it not?”

Sir Andrew’s mischief-filled grin irked Jane, though she kept her calm smile in place. “Indeed, I have scarcely been so… entertained.”

“What a shame our evening had to be curtailed due to the arrival of Lady Catherine’s nephews. She did not tell us Darcy and Fitzwilliam were to visit.” Sir Andrew’s tone mocked the other gentlemen, and Jane did not like it.

Martha brought in the tea service, and Jane hastened to busy herself preparing tea. She did not feel equal to Sir Andrew’s apparently combative mood. All she wished for was peace in her own home. Rosings Park could stay a battleground for all she cared.

Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy sat near Elizabeth. The colonel immediately began conversing with Jane’s sister, their lively personalities shining through their conversation. Mr. Darcy sat silently, glaring at Elizabeth throughout. Jane had been too preoccupied with Mr. Bingley to watch his friend’s behavior when they were all in Hertfordshire, but now she was afforded the opportunity to do so. Sir Andrew had engaged Charlotte in a discussion, though the latter looked as if she would rather do anything else.

After considering the man’s expression for a time, Jane reasoned that Mr. Darcy did not glare at Elizabeth. He was staring at her intently. She noted the admiration in his gaze—it was obvious to her. There, also, in his manner and posture, was irritation or vexation. At what, she did not know. He ran his hands down his thighs, leaning toward Elizabeth as if trying to partake in the discussion in which she and the colonel were engaged.

Mr. Darcy is attracted to Elizabeth? After his deplorable insult at the Meryton Assembly, Jane would not have thought it possible. Yet, there it appeared, in his eyes, his movements. It is unlikely he will condescend to offer her his hand in marriage. Though if he did so, it would be a boon to our family. Papa is not well. Jane shook herself mentally. Men of Mr. Darcy’s status did not offer for penniless country ladies. Just like Mr. Bingley, such gentlemen admired from afar, but they did not marry them.

I married for love, Jane reminded herself again. Just not love for my husband.

Charlotte

“Darcy is smitten with your friend.” Sir Andrew leaned close to Charlotte and spoke softly so as not to be overheard.

“He stares at her a great deal.” Charlotte acknowledged his words with neutrality. Long had she thought Mr. Darcy admired Elizabeth, but she did not wish to be in accord with Sir Andrew.

“He met you all in Hertfordshire, did he not? Did he behave in a like manner while there?” Sir Andrew sounded curious.

“Mr. Darcy insulted Elizabeth at their first meeting, calling her tolerable and not handsome enough to tempt him,” Charlotte confessed quietly. “She has despised him ever since. Eliza believes he looks to find fault.”

Sir Andrew scoffed quietly. “A gentleman does not stare at a lady he does not like.”

“I surmised as much. Elizabeth stays oblivious.” Charlotte shrugged.

“Lady Catherine wishes him to marry Anne.”

Charlotte nodded. “We are aware of the engagement. We learned of it in Hertfordshire.”

“You mistake me. Anne and Darcy are not engaged, though Lady Catherine desires the match. My dear cousin will not do for Darcy, of course, for he needs a bride that can bear him an heir. Anne is not well enough to do so.” Sir Andrew sounded a little sad.

Charlotte was incredulous. “Why would Lady Catherine insist upon the match? Does she not value her daughter’s life?” She paused. “Forgive me. It is not my place to ask such questions. We are barely acquainted, and your aunt’s business is her own.”

“It is no great secret.” He chuckled quietly, and Charlotte felt a thrill at the rich, deep sound. “Sir Lewis was baronet before my father. He did not intend to marry and saw no reason to do so since my grandmother had another son and a grandson to carry on the family name. I was twelve when he married Lady Catherine Fitzwilliam. As you learned last night, her family approached him to broker the arrangement. Lady Catherine had had six seasons in town and no offers. My father told me once that her features were too manly for gentlemen to countenance. She is tall, broad-shouldered, and stubborn. Very frustrating for her, I am certain, since her younger sister was so handsome. One might think her dowry would attract a suitor, regardless of her physical appearance, but Lady Catherine’s brusque and commanding manner, along with her refusal to submit to anyone’s will other than her own, deterred even the most desperate pockets-to-let gentlemen.”

Sir Andrew took another sip of tea. “Her dowry settled gambling debts he had accrued. Did you know he won Rosings Park in a game of cards? No? Lady Catherine does not like that knowledge to be known.”

He next nibbled on a biscuit, his expression thoughtful. “Anne’s birth came when I was fifteen. Sir Lewis died five years later. I doubt she remembers him much. My father inherited the baronetcy and he moved from London to Kent. I was at university by then and had intended to study the law. Instead, I completed the studies my father felt necessary and then attended him to learn estate management at Briar Court. He died just five years later, leaving me heir to my estate and a baronet at five-and-twenty years of age.”

“That is why Rosings Park is not part of the baronetcy?” Charlotte asked curiously.

“Yes.” Sir Andrew nodded and continued. “Sir Lewis happily willed the estate to his only child. I understand his wife was livid upon learning Rosings Park had not been left to her. Her brother, the Earl of Matlock, is the trustee. Coincidentally, Mr. Darcy and the colonel are here to review the estate books. They apparently do so once a year.”

Charlotte looked over at her friend and the other gentlemen. Elizabeth and the colonel conversed pleasantly, though she glanced at Mr. Darcy in consternation every so often. Jane joined their discussion, having completed her duties as hostess.

“Will you walk with me tomorrow, Miss Lucas?”

Sir Andrew’s request startled her. She had not expected him to wish her company for any longer than necessary for politeness. “You wish to risk being trapped into marrying a poor spinster?” she asked blandly. His words still stung, and though he had proved this afternoon that he could be polite and make good conversation, she did not wish to be subjected to the harsher aspects of his personality.

He had the nerve to chuckle. “I believe I am quite safe from entrapment. The matrons of the ton have declared me an old bachelor, have you not heard?”

“Is that the gentleman’s equivalent of being on the shelf?” Her words were spoken in an innocent tone, her eyes wide as she waited for his reaction.

He laughed out loud then, causing the other group to turn and look at them.

“What has you in stitches, eh, Sir Andrew?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked.

“Miss Lucas’s humor,” he replied. “It is refreshingly unique. Tell me, Colonel. Have you any marriage prospects, or has the ton declared you to be a confirmed bachelor as well?”

“I am barely three-and-thirty. I do not think one could say I am a confirmed bachelor.” The colonel looked bemused at the question.

“Miss Lucas wishes to know if confirmed bachelorhood is the gentleman’s equivalent of a lady being on the shelf.” He chortled again and the colonel joined him in his mirth.

Charlotte frowned. “Are you laughing at me?” she asked quietly. She did not like being laughed at or made a joke of.

“No, my dear Miss Lucas, of course not. I am laughing with you. Now, will you walk with me tomorrow?” He turned to face her, his expression betraying his earnestness.

Charlotte wondered why he wished for her company. He must think I am safe. I have no expectations, and he can speak to me without inciting them.

“I suppose I can make time for a stroll,” she said hesitantly.

“Wonderful. Will ten o’clock be acceptable? I shall call for you at the front gate.” He grinned, and his handsome features became even more attractive.

She nodded. Mr. Darcy stood, signaling their need to depart. Charlotte glanced at the clock. Thirty minutes had gone by, twice the length of what the visit ought to have been.

“Until tomorrow, Miss Lucas,” Sir Andrew said, bowing crisply and then following the other gentlemen out.

Until tomorrow, Charlotte thought.