Page 7 of Mistress of Pemberley

Elizabeth’s journey to Hunsford became a source of interest and dispute in the Bennet family, which was suddenly awakened to the pleasure of discussing the major events of their lives.

Since Charlotte’s engagement and marriage, a visible distance had crept into their relationship—a source of sadness and regret as Elizabeth valued their long-standing friendship. She had decided to make the journey to Kent to try to regain their previous closeness; Charlotte was not only her dearest friend but also, along with Jane and Mrs Gardiner, her trusted confidante.

“I cannot imagine your reasons for going there!” Mrs Bennet had lamented more than once. “Perhaps to witness how they, in league with Sir William, plan to take possession of Longbourn!”

Although the situation was far from dire, given Mr Bennet was alive and in good health, Elizabeth could not help but wonder whether she could maintain her friendship with the future mistress of their home.

“Please, Mama, do not speak in such a manner,” she eventually responded, attempting to quell her mother’s anxieties and doubts. “Charlotte has taken nothing from us. Must I remind you that Mr Collins once sought to marry one of us?”

Rather than soothing Mrs Bennet, these words only served to further upset her. “Of course, I know my daughters handed Longbourn to Charlotte on a silver platter, deeming themselves too good to marry that man!”

Fortunately, Elizabeth’s hesitations were eased one morning when Sir William paid a visit to her father, and they spent a good hour in the library.

Mr Bennet appeared in the parlour with an expression that left the ladies quite confused, speaking in a forceful, uncharacteristic tone. “My dear daughters, I have had a long and encouraging discussion with my old friend Sir William,” he began. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief, realising that there was no bad blood between Longbourn and Lucas Lodge, and that eased her heart, knowing she would be able to repair her friendship with Charlotte.

“Sir William,” her father continued, “has assured me that when the time comes, you will have a full year to vacate Longbourn.”

“Oh!” Mrs Bennet exclaimed. If Elizabeth and Mary understood their father’s words, Kitty and Lydia looked on in confusion, and when Mr Bennet patiently explained the situation, the younger girls burst into tears.

To everyone’s surprise, Mary spoke up. “Do not worry, Papa. I shall marry promptly if a suitable gentleman proposes, and I shall care for us all.”

Her words were so unexpected and endearing that Mr Bennet, in an unusual display of affection, embraced her, whispering, “Thank you, my dear!”

Elizabeth felt that Mary’s words comforted her father more than Sir William’s reassurance. They demonstrated that his daughters would face his departure with dignity and courage, striving together to build a future for themselves.

Elizabeth wrote to Charlotte the following day, accepting her invitation to visit Hunsford. Sir William and Maria’s trip to Kent, which was supposed to take place in a few days, provided the perfect opportunity for her to do so.

∞∞∞

Elizabeth liked to travel, a passion that granted her an invigorating reprieve from the rhythms of everyday life. The mere thought of escaping the routines of her family home and countryside filled her with boundless delight, her spirits rising at even the most modest opportunity to venture beyond Longbourn. She adored everything regarding a journey—the cadence of the carriage in motion, the stops to change horses, even the neighing of the animals, though it was well known that she feared horses and never rode.

The promise of a day’s journey, such as the one to Hunsford, was enough to set her heart alight with anticipation.

And indeed she found the journey pleasant in the comfortable carriage Sir William possessed, while the conversation with Maria genuinely amused her. Her gaze, ever attentive, lingered on the vast fields they passed, while the charm of the villages they drove through—each quaint and distinctive—touched her imagination and fed her natural curiosity.

As the hours wore on, Elizabeth found herself surrendering entirely to the joy of travel, her spirits buoyant, her mind finally free from all the problems she had left behind at Longbourn. When at last Rosings and then the Parsonage came into view, she felt her earlier pleasure wholly justified.

Mr Collins and Charlotte appeared at the door, and the whole party exchanged nods and smiles. With Charlotte welcoming her with the liveliest delight, Elizabeth was utterly content with her decision to come when she found herself so affectionately received.

While Mr Collins, with great determination, resolved to personally escort his father-in-law to his room, the ladies settled into Charlotte’s cosy parlour.

“Your home is delightful and elegantly appointed,” Elizabeth remarked, her genuine praise obviating the need for mere polite comments as, indeed, she did find the Parsonage to be tasteful and pleasant.

“Oh, thank you, but I must confess that we have done very little ourselves—Lady Catherine deserves all the credit. It was her idea to renovate the house. Mr Collins told me even the furniture was changed.”

Everything at the Parsonage and in Mr Collins’s life seemed to revolve around his patroness, Lady Catherine.“She is so generous!” continued Charlotte, clearly sharing her husband’s opinion on the formidable lady living at Rosings, the magnificent estate across the lane from the Parsonage.

Elizabeth thought that, beyond her generosity, Lady Catherine certainly enjoyed interfering in the lives of everyone around her and insisted that things be done precisely in the manner she preferred. But she kept this thought to herself. Even though their friendship appeared as steadfast as ever, there were subjects Elizabeth avoided out of consideration. At the same time, jesting had been forbidden of late, as Charlotte, since she became Mr Collins’s wife, seemed to have lost most of her sense of humour. Gazing at her friend’s kind face, Elizabeth could not help but wonder whether she had ever genuinely enjoyed jesting or whether her frequent visits to the Bennets’ parlour had merely created that impression. Yet some questions were destined to remain unanswered.

∞∞∞

Despite these thoughts and doubts about their friendship, they spent several delightful days together—taking long walks around Rosings, visiting Hunsford and Charlotte’s new acquaintances, and receiving guests from Mr Collins’s parish.

Elizabeth tried to imagine herself in Charlotte’s position. Aside from being Mr Collins’s wife, she had to admit that the other aspects of life at the Parsonage were quite agreeable. She could picture herself as a vicar’s wife, forming friendships with the local ladies, addressing their concerns, and participating in community life. At the same time, she felt a secret allure at the prospect of having such a lovely house to call her own.

For the first time in her life, Elizabeth contemplated the true meaning of marriage. It was curious that this revelation occurred while observing Charlotte rather than her own mother or Mrs Gardiner, whom she had witnessed in that role throughout her life. But Charlotte was her friend. They had grown up together, and now she was a wife with responsibilities, a household, and—Elizabeth could not help but blush at the thought—a bedroom, about which she dared not reflect for long.

Yet in seeking love and marriage, she must also consider that responsibility of becoming a man’s wife.

Has our friendship endured the trials to which it has been subjected? Elizabeth pondered as she penned a letter to Mrs Gardiner a week after arriving at the Parsonage.

Although I admire how Charlotte has settled into her new life, home, and community, I see she is on a different path from mine every time we are together. Living with Mr Collins, not simply being a wife, has transformed her into someone I still listen to but do not truly regard as an example.

Yet, it is not difficult to face this new Charlotte, as when we are alone, she is almost the Charlotte I remember, and we are alone quite often, as Mr Collins not only serves as the vicar of a rather prominent parish but also as Lady Catherine’s personal butler, valet, groom—any role she requires. He runs to the stables to see whether her majesty’s carriage is ready, and he fetches her a glass of wine, milk, or lemonade—whatever she demands. I would not be too surprised if he also cleans her chambers (sorry, I could not resist this image!).

However, his hectic life has its advantages. It gives us ample time alone, particularly now Sir William has gone home, which we spend exploring the area, meeting Charlotte’s new acquaintances, or taking leisurely walks around Rosings—Charlotte has been offered the great privilege of using the park for her walks.

I can tell you without any trace of mockery that Rosings is indeed a majestic place. It is not to my taste as I like modernity; however, it is still elegant, scrupulously maintained, and impressive, set within a vast, enchanting park that will come alive as soon as spring arrives.

We have been invited to dine there once, and I had the opportunity to admire the inside of the house. Despite her overbearing nature and her evident disdain for commoners, Lady Catherine is an excellent mistress. Everything under her control runs perfectly—the house, the gardens, and the estate, which I learnt encompasses all the land around Hunsford. It is curious that this lady, whom I cannot say I particularly like, serves as the most striking example of a woman capable of performing activities reserved for men. It was not difficult to discover her ‘accomplishments’ during the two hours of dinner, during which she and Mr Collins spoke solely of her ladyship’s achievements. And, with relative surprise, I noticed that Charlotte regarded Lady Catherine in the same adoring manner as her husband did.

In the end, it provides the answer to my question. Affection remains in our friendship, but our deep connection has vanished. I must confess that I am saddened by this realisation. However, this is the reality of life, where friendships may go cold, and men you love may disappoint.

But, dear aunt, I have other news to share, and I can almost hear your reproach for not beginning with it, yet my reasons are easy to explain. Upon returning to my room, I considered asking for a carriage to take me to London. Still, as I began to write this letter, I decided to remain here, and I trust you will approve of my decision.

In a most enthusiastic manner, Mr Collins announced that Lady Catherine would receive guests in the coming days. I admit I nearly choked on my dinner when he revealed the names of the guests—Mr Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, who is Mr Darcy’s cousin, and Miss Darcy, Mr Darcy’s sister!

Imagine my surprise and frustration at the same time!

As I said, I wanted to leave at first, to ask my uncle for the promised carriage to take me to you, but the thought of Miss Darcy stopped me. I wrote to you about how astonished I was when her brother compared us, saying that, beyond her shyness, she was a young woman like me—determined and with modern views.

For once, I resolved to act wisely and consider Jane’s interests. This new situation presents a genuine opportunity to learn more of Mr Bingley. I hope that Miss Darcy knows more about him.

I shall stay for a while, dear aunt, and endeavour to understand the events of last November. Certainly, Jane has not forgotten Mr Bingley. We must find a way for her to close this chapter in her life—either by arranging a meeting between them or by obtaining proof that he does not love her, allowing her to conclude the matter herself.

I shall write again with many details soon,

Your loving niece, Elizabeth.

Elizabeth sat at the small table facing the window, unable to move. The evening was exceptionally clear, with a starry sky and a huge moon casting a radiant glow that made Rosings appear in the distance like an intriguing shadow. Faced with that magical image, Elizabeth accepted that she had not revealed the whole truth in her letter.

While Jane was her main reason for staying, she also wanted to see Mr Darcy with his sister, cousins, and aunt—among those who constituted his social circle. She was curious to discover whether his aloofness was simply his general disposition or whether he had not liked the company he had encountered in Hertfordshire. For Jane’s sake, she prayed that Mr Darcy would prove amiable among his family and willing to shed light on the mystery surrounding their abrupt departure last November.

Perhaps his sister or his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam could make her understand more about Mr Bingley and finally about Mr Darcy too.

After meeting Lady Catherine and finding her to be every bit as arrogant as her nephew, Elizabeth was eager to meet others from their circle and form her own opinions of a society they—her family and friends—had not crossed paths with in the past. They still represented a mystery. There was also that pale girl, somewhat older than herself, who had scarcely uttered a word during dinner and, to her surprise, had turned out to be the heiress of Rosings—something Elizabeth could not align with her image.

It could be fun to observe the members of the ton when they were amongst their own kind—those who lived on grand estates like Rosings or Pemberley, Mr Darcy’s home in Derbyshire, which had been highly praised by the Bingley sisters. Were they all like Mr Darcy and his aunt, or could some be amiable and pleasant, regardless of their station in life? And, was Miss Darcy how her brother depicted her? These thoughts kept Elizabeth awake on that clear night.

Until her encounters with Mr Darcy and the Bingley sisters, she had believed that her father’s status as a gentleman placed her family in a position of respectability and equality with all other gentlefolk elsewhere—only to be utterly contradicted by most of the people residing at Netherfield through their disdain and arrogance.

She could not miss this opportunity to see Mr Darcy in his own environment—the arrogant wealthy gentleman who did not like her or her family but who had come to say goodbye in that veiled way, which was, after all, better than Mr Bingley’s sudden disappearance.

Waiting for Charlotte to come into her room and discuss the incredible news, she managed to order her thoughts, but after more than half an hour of waiting, she prepared for the night. Her friend would not come.

While combing her hair, she tried not to be sad. Yet, despite herself, she remembered all those times when Charlotte had run the two miles to Longbourn only to share a tidbit of news from Meryton.

Even though Mrs Collins was only a few steps down the hall that night, she was farther away than the nearest star.