19. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

April 2, 1812 Rosings Park, Kent Jane

J ane smoothed her hands over her gown. The current styles still concealed her growing stomach, and she felt grateful for it. She had not yet felt the quickening and she did not wish to tell her husband of their coming happiness until she knew for certain she carried his child. But now Lady Catherine had ferreted out the information and she needed to placate the lady before she chastised Jane before everyone.

They had been invited to dine that night, but she did not wish to delay. She left the parsonage after having made calls on the parishioners with her husband and Charlotte. Their tasks had been uneventful, and now she had time to see to Lady Catherine’s bruised feelings.

She rang the bell and waited for Brisby. Rosings’s butler answered quickly, his stoic and serious demeanor intimidating Jane just a mite. “Mrs. Collins to see Lady Catherine,” she said calmly. Her insides roiled with nerves, but she shoved the feeling away. She had no time for misgivings.

Brisby showed her to the sitting room. Lady Catherine’s favorite chamber to receive visitors was also Jane’s least favorite public room at Rosings Park. Lady Catherine had granted her a tour when she first arrived in Kent. The sitting room’s gilt and gaudy décor spoke of wealth with little regard to taste, and Jane despised the dark wood and heavy brocade fabric that covered everything.

“Mrs. Collins to see you.” Brisby announced her, and she entered the room. Lady Catherine had no company, thankfully, and so Jane would not need to request to speak with her privately. Brisby closed the door, and she stepped forward.

“Well, come closer.” Lady Catherine’s evident pique caused Jane to obey immediately. “You were to attend me tonight. What have you to say that cannot wait?” She did not offer Jane a seat.

Jane hated the way she demanded information. Her delicate condition did not concern her ladyship in the slightest. But Lady Catherine de Bourgh declared nothing was beneath her notice, and so to prevent further embarrassment when her husband’s patroness inevitably confronted her this evening, she moved forward.

“I came on a matter of some delicacy, your ladyship,” Jane said. She knew she needed to speak carefully. Flattery and condescension were what Lady Catherine needed to feel superior and be placated. “You are the nearest lady of my acquaintance who possesses the knowledge I seek.”

“Can you not write to your mother? Or what of your aunt in London? What advice can I give that they cannot?” The obvious challenge in her words made Jane pause again. Was Charlotte’s report accurate?

She swallowed and then continued. “I believe I am with child, your ladyship. I have not, forgive my indelicacy, had my courses since before my marriage. My mother is temperamental at best, and my aunt is far too busy with her brood to respond in a timely manner.” Not precisely true, but the explanation would hopefully prove effective.

Lady Catherine sat back, her rigid posture relaxing marginally. “Sit down.”

Jane took the chair closest to her ladyship’s throne and sat on the edge, her hands clasped in her lap. “I only related my suspicions to my sister Monday evening,” she said quietly. “I have been searching for a moment to call upon you ever since.”

The lady frowned. “I suppose I cannot fault you for speaking to your sister first,” she conceded. “It speaks well of you to approach me next. There are no others with as much knowledge and authority on the matter as I. Tell me, have you felt ill in the mornings?”

“I have. My appetite is returning slowly, though some things still cause upset.”

“And you have not felt the quickening?”

Jane shook her head. “I do not wish to inform my husband until I can be certain.”

Lady Catherine nodded sagely. “That is a wise decision. Mr. Collins will fret unnecessarily. It is best to wait. I had planned to serve fish tonight. Will that be acceptable? I detested fish when I expected Anne.”

Surprised at her ladyship’s thoughtfulness, Jane replied. “I have avoided fish, for the smell makes my discomfort worse. I would not impose upon you to change your menu, however. It is not my place.”

“Your sense of propriety does you credit, Mrs. Collins, but it is no trouble. What would you have in its place? Beef? Lamb? Perhaps chicken? I have a brace of pheasants that might also be prepared.”

“Any of those options sound delightful, madam. I would be pleased to partake in whichever you choose.” Jane did not wish to volunteer her preference, uncertain that Lady Catherine’s largesse would extend to that, despite her words to the contrary.

“Pheasant, then. It will pair well with the other course.” She rang the bell and dispatched the directions for the kitchens immediately. When the maid departed, she said, “Have you enough ginger tea to soothe your anxiety? Peppermint works as well. If you need any, I will see some delivered to the parsonage.”

Surprised again, Jane demurred. “We are well stocked, I thank you.”

Lady Catherine’s demanding demeanor softened. “I remember well what it is like to expect a child, Mrs. Collins.” Her tone was almost gentle. “I would not have you suffer unnecessarily.”

How kind of her.

“Your duties to your husband and the parish must be seen to. If you are weak and sickly, their needs will not be seen to as they should.”

Ah, there you have it. Jane almost laughed. She should have known Lady Catherine had an ulterior motive to see her healthy.

“Thank you for your condescension. May I ask that we keep this between ourselves until I have felt the quickening?”

“You can be assured of my discretion.” Lady Catherine waved her hand dismissively. “Return to the parsonage. I shall see you at supper this evening.”

Jane complied, standing and leaving the room as calmly as she could. She did not worry that Martha would say anything to her husband. The maid did not receive payment for informing Mr. Collins of the goings on of his house. No, her ladyship alone commanded such interference.

If she tries to change my butcher order, I will not stand for it. Fortunately, Jane’s frugality already demanded that she purchase less expensive cuts of meat; otherwise, Lady Catherine might have done so already.

She returned to the parsonage in need of a lie-down, and she made her way to her chambers immediately. Mr. Collins had gone to the church before she departed for Rosings Park, and she did not expect him to return until tea.

She rolled over and closed her eyes, allowing sleep to claim her. An hour later, she awoke disoriented, a disjointed dream of Mr. Bingley dissipating with sleepiness.

She did not dream of him often, but when she did, her heart ached when she woke. She could not deny that she loved him still, though she was now tied to another. Oh, how she wished she carried his child and not Mr. Collins’s. Regardless, the love she felt for the tiny person she had within her grew daily, and she knew she would cherish her baby regardless of the identity of his or her father.

Mr. Bingley had abandoned her. Yes, her engagement to Mr. Collins had perhaps been premature, given the former’s recent departure, but when he did not appear during her short engagement, Jane’s doubts had solidified into resolve. He did not want her. He had played with her heart and then abandoned her for Miss Darcy. Or maybe another lady. Caroline—Miss Bingley had claimed her brother held a tendre for the heiress and Jane did not know if she could be believed. Elizabeth did not think so.

Regardless of her past feelings—or current ones—she had made her choice. She would search for joy, chase it if she needed to, and she would be the best mother to her son or daughter and a perfect wife for Mr. Collins. Jane knew she brought him pleasure. Bumbling he may be, but her husband also had a sweet, romantic side that she loved. He brought her flowers from the garden and had tenderly nursed her through a bad cold in late January. Just yesterday, he had brought her a fine handkerchief trimmed in lace that he had found in one of Hunsford’s shops. For all his faults, Mr. Collins cared about his wife and saw to her comfort.

Elizabeth and Charlotte were waiting in the sitting room for tea, and a glance at the clock told Jane that Mr. Collins would arrive momentarily. He came when expected and spoke of his doings at the chapel. Elizabeth and Charlotte listened politely but did not speak, leaving her to respond to her husband’s remarks.

The simple fare satisfied the nausea she felt, leaving her desirous of some fresh air. Elizabeth and Charlotte agreed to a stroll, and the three spent the rest of their afternoon in each other’s company, walking to Hunsford, perusing the shops, and then seeing to their correspondence. Jane had a letter from Mrs. Bennet and read it with equal parts anticipation and dread. Her mother’s letters were rarely sensible.

Dear Mrs. Collins,

Oh, how well that sounds! I knew you could not be so beautiful for nothing. Of course, Mr. Collins is nothing to Mr. Bingley, but your situation is pleasing, nonetheless. You shall be mistress of Longbourn someday, and that is a fine thing indeed.

Are you with child yet? Sometimes the signs can be hard to read. If you believe you are, write to me and send it express. I am certain I can prevail upon your father to send me in the carriage when it is time for your lying in. You will want your mother there, at least the first time. A midwife would do just as well, but a lady needs her mama during such a trying time.

Did you try the potions I sent you? It is imperative that you bear Mr. Collins an heir. He will be most displeased if you do not. I remember your father’s disappointment when Mary was born. After two girls he expected a son. His disapproval grew with both Kitty and Lydia’s births, and I do not wish you to feel the same sting. Your son’s birth will end the entail, too, which is a grand notion. I must say, I would feel more secure if I knew the confounded thing was to be dissolved.

You have yet to describe Sir Andrew in great detail. You said he is a baronet. Is he of an age where he and Lizzy might suit? Push her at him and encourage her to form an attachment. She does not deserve to be the wife of a baronet, not after she refused Mr. Collins, but she must take every opportunity to secure her future. I am sure your husband will not want her to reside permanently in his house when he inherits Longbourn.

The thief of Meryton continues to pilfer valued items from rich households. His dire deeds have spread to other abodes. Tradesmen are reporting that their homes have been pillaged as well. It is always small items that are taken, never anything large. Most do not notice the items missing for some time, so there is no way to determine when things are being taken.

Longbourn has not suffered in some time, and I worry that we will not have a reprieve for long before we are all murdered in our beds and our valuables stripped from each room in the house. It brings me comfort to know that if we were to perish, you and Mr. Collins would inherit Longbourn.

Do write of Sir Andrew. He sounds like a perfect match for Elizabeth’s impertinence. If your sister does not marry soon, she will end up on the shelf like Charlotte Lucas. I will not have her in my house when your father dies, the ungrateful child. You have always been my most obliging daughter; you will not gainsay me in this.

Tell me more of Lady de Bourgh’s gown and accoutrements as well. She sounds very fashionable, even if she is elderly.

All my love, dearest Jane,

Mama

Jane sighed. Oh, Mama, she thought. Nonsensical as always, her letter still brought her comfort. She doubted the thief that roamed Meryton had a violent bent. He had robbed a number of homes and had not harmed anyone yet.

“My mother writes that Lucas Lodge has been burgled again,” Charlotte said. “Her pearls and sapphires have gone missing.”

“They have not caught the thief?” Elizabeth sounded surprised. “There is an entire militia encamped in Meryton!”

“The thief is either bold or foolish, then.” Charlotte folded her letter. “Has Longbourn had another incident?”

“Mrs. Bennet claims there has been none since the first.” Jane followed suit and folded her missive. “She believes they will all be murdered in their beds.”

“Mama has always been overly fretful.” Elizabeth’s disdain for their mother’s anxious nature could be heard in her voice. “It is likely someone in the militia who is in need of funds.”

“Which means when the militia departs, so will the thief,” Charlotte reasoned. “If they do not catch the culprit before that happens, all the stolen items will likely be lost forever.”

“How distressing. Mama will mourn the loss of her valuables.” Elizabeth said. Her manner seemed flippant, and a displeased expression crossed her face as she reread the letter in her hand.

“Lizzy, you are being unkind.” Jane censured her sister. Elizabeth, she knew, comprehended their mother’s fear of the hedgerows. Their mother’s fears permeated every aspect of their life and made her sensitive to any conflict. “You ought not to mock or make light of the situation.”

Elizabeth showed contrition. “I apologize, Jane. It is only that her letter to me is so terribly nonsensical. She insists that I secure Sir Andrew and claims I cannot expect to marry anyone else if I keep disregarding perfectly suitable suitors.”

Jane noted the stiffening of Charlotte’s posture and wondered why Elizabeth’s words seemed to discompose her so. “You will disabuse our mother of her commands, of course?” she asked.

“Yes, I will. Sir Andrew is far too flippant and unconcerned for my liking.” Charlotte’s posture relaxed again.

“And Mr. Darcy?” Jane probed her sister, wondering what Elizabeth would say.

“He is as disapproving and proud as ever.” Elizabeth’s statement lacked the distaste she had previously shown toward the haughty gentleman from Derbyshire, and she wondered if her sister’s opinion toward him had softened.

“He walks with you most days.”

Elizabeth groaned. “I know! I do not know how we stumble upon each other so often. There are plenty of other walking paths. Why can he not choose one of them?”

“Stumble upon?” Charlotte repeated shrewdly. “Are you certain your encounters are an accident?”

“ I do not seek to encounter him. I would rather complete my ramble in solitude than suffer his presence.”

Methinks thou dost protest too much, sister. Jane smothered her smirk. Elizabeth clearly wished to hold onto her resentment like a tattered shawl that threatened to blow away in the wind.

“You have accounted for your preferences, Lizzy,” she said, “but that does not account for Mr. Darcy and his. I think he admires you. Charlotte has said so too. Will you continue to deny it?”

“I shall! Your imaginations are out of control,” she jested teasingly. “How can a gentleman declare a lady tolerable and not handsome and admire her at the same time?”

“It is simple. He did not truly think you only tolerable .” Charlotte replied. “Lizzy, a gentleman who does not wish to be in the presence of a lady will not offer to escort her anywhere, let alone on a solitary walk in the trees or on a quiet path. He will tip his hat to her in acknowledgement and depart.”

“I will concede that he has been amiable and friendly, but that does not mean he admires me. It could mean that he finds my company preferable to that of the others at Rosings Park, or he has decided he will condescend to offer me his friendship.”

Elizabeth’s stubbornness will be her undoing. Jane shook her head. “You think that, if it gives you comfort.”

Her sister gasped, pretending affront. “Et tu, Brute?” she asked.

“Yes, and me.” Jane smirked. “It is time to dress for dinner. Shall we depart in an hour?”

Conversation closed, Elizabeth and Charlotte nodded. They left the room first and Jane followed behind them. She could only hope that her sister’s immoveable opinions did not give her cause for regret someday.