8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

March 5, 1812 Hunford, Kent Elizabeth

T he carriage rolled to a stop in front of the Hunsford rectory. Elizabeth’s first impressions were positive. The house was made of gray stone, with ivy climbing one side. Little bits of green peeked up throughout the garden, their presence promising more beauty as spring took hold. And there Jane stood, her arm looped through Mr. Collins’s, a bright smile on her face. She was too far away for Elizabeth to ascertain if her expression held true contentment.

Mr. Bennet pushed the door open and stepped down, turning to assist Elizabeth and Charlotte. Elizabeth felt unaccountably nervous. Despite Jane’s assertions, she wished to see her sister’s professed satisfaction for herself. She could not believe that Jane would throw away the dream of love so readily. Though her sister claimed to have good reason for marrying Mr. Collins, until Elizabeth knew all, she would not rest easy.

Mr. Bennet coughed roughly as they approached the front gate. Elizabeth cast him a questioning look, but he waved his hand dismissively. Instead, he pulled a little bottle from his pocket and took a sip, then wiped his mouth on a handkerchief. Frowning, Elizabeth made note to ask him about his health later.

“My dear cousins!” Mr. Collins came forward, opening the gate and guiding Jane through. He stopped short, and Elizabeth noted the moment when he saw Charlotte. “Oh,” he continued, the strain in his voice apparent. “Miss Lucas. I did not realize…” he turned to Jane. “My dear, you did not mention that Miss Lucas was to come as well.”

“I did,” Jane said calmly. “Do you not recall? When I extended the invitation, it was to my sister and her friend.”

“Then you must not have mentioned which friend. Why, this is very strange. I had not… well, it is no matter.” Mr. Collins tugged at the collar of his shirt. He looked rather anxious, and Elizabeth wondered why Charlotte’s presence would disturb him so.

Mr. Collins straightened, seeming to remember that they were standing in the lane where passersby might gawk at them. “Welcome to our humble abode.” He gestured grandly. “Do come in. We shall give you a tour and then settle for tea. My dear wife has seen to it that all your favorites are prepared.”

Mr. Collins released Jane’s arm and hurried inside, Mr. Bennet trailing behind him. Jane took the opportunity to greet Charlotte and Elizabeth. “It is so good to see you both!” she cried happily. “Welcome to my home. The next six weeks will surely be enjoyable.”

“How do you do, dear Jane?” Elizabeth asked.

“I am very well, indeed! Come, let me show you the rectory.” Jane linked arms with Charlotte and Elizabeth, leading them into the house. Mr. Collins stood in the entryway, regaling Mr. Bennet with tales of Lady Catherine’s condescension.

“She saw to it that the house was refurbished after the former incumbent’s passing,” he said, gesturing to the walls. “Fresh paint, new windows and roof!” The party moved toward the staircase that was visible down the hallway. “I flatter myself that this staircase is imminently suitable for a clergyman of my stature, being neither too shallow nor too steep. Come, we shall show you to your chambers. My dear?” He held out his arm to Jane, and Elizabeth’s sister moved to join her husband.

“Here is your chamber for your stay, Mr. Bennet,” Mr. Collins said as they stopped in front of the first door. “I do hope you will find it suitable. My dear wife has promised to see to your every comfort.”

“I am certain I shall find everything to be satisfactory,” Mr. Bennet said wearily. “If you have no objections, I should like to rest before tea.”

Mr. Collins nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, we shall leave you then. Dear Jane will see to it that your trunk is brought up.”

They moved down the hall. “Here is your room, Elizabeth,” Jane said, pushing open the next door. “It overlooks the lane.”

“And see here, dear Cousin!” Mr. Collins pushed forward and opened the door to what Elizabeth presumed was the closet. “See Lady Catherine’s condescension. She has seen to it that shelves be installed in the closets. Is that not kind of her?”

Jane blushed a little. “Your gowns can be hung in the wardrobe, Lizzy,” she said. “We have purchased one for every chamber.”

Elizabeth glanced at Charlotte. Her lips were pinched in what looked to be humor, but she could not quite tell. “It is a fine room,” she assured her sister after a brief pause. “I am certain I shall be content.”

After installing Charlotte in her room, she, Elizabeth, and Jane went downstairs. Mr. Collins trailed them, waxing eloquent about his house and the comfortable position he had.

“Will you see to the trunks, my dear?” Jane asked calmly. Her husband quickly complied, and Jane led her guests to a little parlor at the back of the house.

“This room is for my particular use,” she told them as they sat down. “There is another larger parlor at the front of the house. Mr. Collins has made his study there. The window overlooks the lane, and he can see if guests approach.”

“You mentioned something of that in one of your letters,” Elizabeth said, nodding. “This is a very nice room.”

Jane smiled again, and Elizabeth noted the sincerity of it. “I find I prefer the quiet of the back of the house. All manner of carts and carriages pass by on the lane. It is very distracting.”

“I thank you for the invitation to join Elizabeth on this visit,” Charlotte said. “I confess, Meryton has felt rather confining since your departure, more so since Elizabeth went to London. This change of scenery will do me good; I am certain.”

“I am happy to have you both.” Jane smiled. “It is a very great change, going from having four sisters with whom to associate daily to only one gentleman. Feminine company is all I need to complete my happiness. Do not mistake me. I do converse with the parishioners, but it is not the same as having a house filled with girlish chatter.”

Elizabeth smiled. She comprehended her sister’s meaning. She had often felt that way while in London. Though her nieces and nephews were lively children, it was not the same. “I am pleased that we can be of some assistance,” she teased lightly.

“I have missed you both.” Jane smiled. “We shall have a marvelous time while you are here. Lady Catherine has already insisted that we join her for dinner in two days’ time. She wishes to meet our father and both of you.”

“Is she as fearsome as I have come to believe?” Elizabeth jested only in part. Lady Catherine sounded like a veritable gorgon. Shelves in the closet? What insanity was this?

“She likes to have her way, and nothing is beneath her notice. Sometimes her brashness and uncensored speeches make me think of Mama.” Jane smiled slyly, her eyes twinkling.

“In truth?” Charlotte sounded astounded.

Jane nodded in confirmation.

“I imagine you will handle her well, then,” Charlotte continued. “You have always been the best of the Bennet sisters when it came to dealing with your mama. I mean no offense, Lizzy.”

Elizabeth laughed, shaking her head. “It is nothing less than the truth. Jane has far more patience for Mrs. Bennet’s antics than I. Your skills will serve you well.”

Mr. Collins chose that moment to interrupt them. “Jane, dearest, tea awaits in the sitting room.” His smile faltered when his gaze landed on Charlotte again, but he seemed to put aside whatever it was that bothered him and extended his hand to help Jane stand.

“Shall we?” Jane asked. They moved to the sitting room, a large, well-lit room that was just off the entryway and across the hall from Mr. Collins’s study. “This is the room where I take callers.” She turned to the maid who was setting out the tea things. “Martha, will you fetch Mr. Bennet from his chamber?”

Martha dipped a curtsey and departed, leaving the others to settle themselves. Jane began preparing tea and Mr. Collins filled his plate with tarts, scones, and other delicacies that were set out.

Mr. Bennet entered but a moment later. He looked rather tired; more so than Elizabeth thought he should be. She glanced at Jane, wondering if her sister had noted their father’s condition. Jane gazed at him, too, her expression unfathomable. When she saw Elizabeth watching her, calm and serenity reappeared on her countenance, and she handed a cup of tea to Charlotte.

Mr. Collins was blessedly silent, his mouth filled with lemon tart. Elizabeth spoke exclusively with Jane and Charlotte, though her concerned gaze returned to her father more than once. When tea had been consumed, Mr. Bennet retreated back to his bedchamber, claiming fatigue.

“I shall be very happy there the rest of the afternoon,” he assured Jane. “The marvelous chair before my window beckons, and my book begs to be finished. I shall be down for dinner.” He kissed Jane’s cheek, searching her eyes for a moment before departing. Elizabeth pondered on the exchange, wondering if her father, too, looked for evidence of Jane’s contentment.

With Mr. Bennet’s departure, all that remained for the three ladies to converse openly was to be rid of Mr. Collins’s presence. “Mr. Collins, do you not have your meeting with Lady Catherine this afternoon?” Jane smiled pleasantly. Her husband looked up for a moment before fumbling with his pocket watch.

“My dear Jane, how right you are! I had quite forgotten. Lady Catherine will be most seriously displeased should I be tardy. I must ready myself at once.” He stood and bowed awkwardly to the ladies. “Until this evening.” He hurried from the room, muttering about notes and sermons.

“You seem to handle your husband very well,” Charlotte observed.

“Mr. Collins is not a complicated man.” Jane glanced out the window where her husband could be observed hurrying out the garden gate and down the lane toward Rosings Park. “His loyalty is to Lady Catherine first, and he will do everything in his power to see to that lady’s desires. He also wishes to be appreciated. I show him every consideration, seeing to his meal preferences and all that he desires in the running of our house. In return, he leaves me largely to my own devices. I have enjoyed caring for our parishioners and fulfilling my duties.”

“Are you happy?” The words blurted out of Elizabeth’s mouth before she could hold them back.

Jane nodded. “I am. I did not think it was possible to be so—happily married where there was no foundation of love. I was incorrect. I would feel differently, I think, if my husband were not considerate of me. In being Mrs. Collins, I have found purpose.”

“I do not understand.” Elizabeth was confused. Jane had been happy at Longbourn. She still seemed the same but there was something subtly different, too.

“I believe I do.” Charlotte sipped her tea, finishing the cup and setting it and the saucer on the tea tray. “Your sister has discovered what it is to be her own person. As a daughter and a dependent, we are required to go where our parents tell us to go, do what they tell us to do. We grew up with more freedom than most young ladies, but even so, our lives are not our own. When we marry, our dependency transfers to our husbands. If that man is a good man, a lady will, for the first time in her life, know what it is to have freedom. You have discovered that, Jane, have you not?”

Jane grinned. “I have, indeed. By my estimation, Mr. Collins is not the sort of man to subject his will on his wife, by force or by persuasion. As long as I fulfill my duties, he is content. In time, his more… objectionable qualities will be overcome.”

Elizabeth said nothing, finishing her tea and setting it aside.

“I can see your bemusement, sister,” Jane said softly. “You will understand in time. Now, I imagine you are impatient to see more of Hunsford. Lady Catherine has graciously allowed me use of her gardens, should I desire a formal stroll, but the woods and meadows surrounding Rosings Park are just as lovely. I know you, Lizzy, prefer more natural beauty.”

“I confess, I feel a great need to stretch my legs.” Elizabeth stood. “I shall meander down the lane for a half an hour.”

Charlotte spoke up. “I believe I will accompany you. Jane?”

Jane was apologetic. “I am afraid I must see to the rest of our supper preparation. Our income allows for a cook, a manservant, and a maid of all work. I am grateful for Mrs. Miller—I have not her skills in the kitchen. Martha, too, is a good girl.”

Jane waved them away. Elizabeth and Charlotte retrieved their bonnets and pelisses from their chambers and left the house. It was mid-afternoon. The winter sun had gone, and the warmth of spring kissed their cheeks. There were bluebells and other early spring blooms lining the lane.

They walked in silence, content to admire the surrounding landscape. Elizabeth stewed as they went, pondering Jane’s departure from their childhood dreams. How could she be so content?

Elizabeth knew her sister better than anyone, and Jane’s feelings were not feigned. Her heart had been attached to Mr. Bingley, and to put aside that love in favor of this tepid, passionless match was the worst sort of betrayal of Jane's girlish hopes. How, then, had she achieved her happiness?