Page 9 of Mistress of Pemberley

Elizabeth was furious with Charlotte for assuming that she would confront Mr Darcy. Yet, facing the dinner that was to take place that evening, within the depths of her soul, a certain fear arose. In the drawing-rooms across Meryton or the library at Netherfield, where she had discussed various topics with Mr Darcy and the others, she was Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn. However, at Rosings, she realised she had become Mr Collins’s ‘dear cousin’, whose status in Lady Catherine’s household was quite uncertain. One thing was clear: he was not regarded with the respect they afforded the rector of Longbourn.

Every time they dined at Rosings, the mistress of the house made every effort to emphasise her superiority. Her discourse disturbingly echoed the words Elizabeth had heard from her ladyship’s nephew’s lips at the Meryton assembly—that she was not handsome enough to tempt him.

But, as she gazed into the mirror, she saw a woman who could tempt him. Despite her usual modesty and indifference to fashion, she was pleased with her appearance. She owed thanks to her aunt Mrs Gardiner, who had generously gifted all the ladies of Longbourn with new gowns for Christmas, and to Charlotte’s maid, who had worked wonders with her hair.

Although she had worn the gown at a previous dinner at Rosings, she retrieved a pale pink shawl from her trunk, a gift from her sister Jane, adding elegance to her attire. After one last glance in the mirror and a graceful pirouette, she descended the stairs to join the others in the parlour, her confidence in facing the evening now somewhat restored.

Stepping into the exquisite drawing-room, Elizabeth tried to calm her apprehensions. To her surprise, she was met with smiles all round. Even the usually aloof Lady Catherine displayed an almost benevolent expression.

The butler announced her name, and the smiles in the room did not wane. On the contrary, when it was her turn to curtsey, a well-known voice presented her to Miss Darcy and introduced Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. Mr Darcy smiled at her again—for the tenth time since her arrival.

Only then did Elizabeth allow her uneasiness to fade away, suddenly feeling that her presence was expected—if not with interest, at least with some attentiveness.

Her mind raced, perplexed at the benevolence she had found, but ultimately, it was the ‘fault’ of the guests who occupied the room with their joyfulness while Mr Collins failed to reassert Lady Catherine’s dominance over the gathering, as no one paid any heed to him or his patroness.

And when Miss Darcy approached quite shyly, Elizabeth’s evening turned into a truly pleasant one. She discovered Mr Darcy’s sister to be exactly how she had been depicted: handsome, utterly elegant, yet without any aloofness. Leading her to the dining-room, away from Lady Catherine’s imposing presence, they seemed like two young girls escaping the company of the adults. Other guests were still arriving, but the young lady whispered, “Please follow me, Miss Bennet. You can meet them later. Let us find seats where we can be together.”

Elizabeth heard Mr Darcy and his cousin laughing behind them, eavesdropping on the ladies’ conversation.

Led by Miss Darcy, Elizabeth took her seat towards one end of the table, as far from the mistress of the house as possible, making her wonder why the young lady was being so friendly to her.

The two cousins were less fortunate and were obliged to sit on either side of Lady Catherine, her orders impossible to disregard. Mr Darcy’s eyes sought out Elizabeth’s, but there was little that could be done. Fortunately, that evening’s gathering was relatively small, allowing them to participate in the same conversation.

Elizabeth admired the room, delighted by the fine table, china plates, and crystal glasses gleaming in the glow of the chandeliers. Rosings appeared in the most resplendent way.

“Lady Catherine certainly knows how to host a dinner!” Miss Darcy remarked, then blushed, showing she was trying to overcome her timidity. “When did you arrive in Kent?”

“Almost three weeks ago,” Elizabeth replied, surprised that Mr Darcy’s sister knew she did not reside there.

“If I may ask,” the young girl ventured, her tone less confident, “what brings you here?” Miss Darcy’s curiosity was genuine, and she seemed suddenly at ease under the watchful gaze of her brother, who marvelled at how effortlessly his timid Georgiana was forging a relationship.

“I am visiting my childhood friend Charlotte, who is now the wife of Mr Collins,” Elizabeth replied discreetly, gesturing towards Charlotte.

“Yes, yes, Fitzwilliam told me about them,” Miss Darcy said animatedly.

Elizabeth tried to hide the bewilderment that such a statement provoked in her. However, it was impossible to conceal her startle from the eyes of the enchanting young lady, who laughed, still blushing yet speaking with much courage. “Even men share confidences!”

Elizabeth looked again towards the other end of the table, where Mr Darcy and his cousin talked; they were remarkably similar and obviously close friends.

Miss Darcy followed her gaze, “Yes, they are like two young boys on holiday. They have been inseparable since birth. There is only a few months’ difference in age between them.”

“You are quite far away,” Lady Catherine interjected, addressing Miss Darcy. “I shall have to shout for you to hear me!”

“We can hear you perfectly well, Lady Catherine, I assure you. Please do not shout,” Miss Darcy replied. Elizabeth regarded her in astonishment, for her voice bore no trace of hesitation when addressing Lady Catherine. The timid young lady seemed at home at Rosings. Georgiana noticed Elizabeth’s expression and interpreted it accurately.

“Even Lady Catherine has a weakness, and we are the ‘blessed’ ones,” she answered with humour, referring to her and the gentlemen accompanying her. “Yet, this year, we came mainly for my cousin Anne, to help her become more independent…and cheerful.”

Almost unconsciously, they both glanced towards Anne de Bourgh, who, with her gaze cast downwards, appeared utterly despondent to be seated at the table with so many others. Her companion whispered something in her ear, to which Anne responded with a slight nod, though she did not lift her head.

“Poor Anne! She is the epitome of timidity. Contrary to hers, my shyness comes from my nature, not my upbringing,” Miss Darcy said softly. “My brother and Richard, the colonel as everybody calls him, scold me at every turn, urging me to be bolder.”

“And they are quite right!” Elizabeth replied joyfully. To have such a charming and open young lady near her, who moreover held her own against Lady Catherine, was indeed perfect, and the evening suddenly took an interesting turn. When she glanced back towards the other end of the table, she caught Mr Darcy’s gaze fixed on her as though he had a message to convey. She smiled but could not imagine what he might wish to tell her.

“Well, Miss Darcy, now we can have a little chat. Tell me more about yourself,” Elizabeth said, and to her surprise, Miss Darcy shook her head. “I am sure you know a lot about me, as my brother told me you spent almost two months together—”

“I would not say together .” Elizabeth smiled. Still, she immediately regretted that hint of sarcasm in her words as Miss Darcy blushed violently.

“Oh, I am sorry. Sometimes my words betray me.”

“No, Miss Darcy, I am sorry. Sometimes, my words are uselessly sarcastic. What would you like to know about me?” Elizabeth asked graciously, feeling utterly at ease.

But Lady Catherine’s vehement interruption halted their pleasant conversation. “What are you whispering about there? This intimate dinner is meant for everyone to engage in the same conversation!”

“I was asking Miss Bennet about herself,” Miss Darcy replied in her calm and charming way, looking directly at her aunt.

Lady Catherine spoke abruptly but not angrily. “We prefer you to discuss subjects interesting to all of us.”

Everybody thought that her ladyship would continue with one of her interminable speeches about herself, a subject she considered interesting to all of her guests, but to Elizabeth’s surprise, Mr Darcy spoke. “To talk about oneself is sometimes a pleasant and useful experience for any of us, but especially for Georgiana or Anne, who can benefit from meeting accomplished young ladies like Miss Bennet who have aspirations beyond merely being good wives and mothers.”

Elizabeth nearly choked upon hearing his words, which were, in truth, her own—echoes of a conversation they had shared more than once in Hertfordshire.

“And what might these aspirations be?” Lady Catherine grumbled. “Women have always wanted to be mothers and wives without complaint. I fail to see how you can judge Miss Bennet as accomplished when she has barely uttered a word.”

“That was what Georgiana intended to discover,” countered the colonel in a merry tone, and the two cousins laughed under Lady Catherine’s gaze. The others around the table froze, seemingly unable to grasp how free the two cousins were in the presence of their host, who terrified most of the guests. But surprisingly, Lady Catherine was silenced by this—an unexpected turn of events.

“I cannot say whether I am accomplished, as you suggest, Mr Darcy—”

“You are, Miss Bennet! I have some pertinent information regarding the young ladies from Hertfordshire,” the colonel said, glancing at Mr Darcy.

Elizabeth’s brows lifted in surprise. “I did not anticipate such favourable remarks about the young ladies from Hertfordshire .”

The colonel’s insight was only about Elizabeth. Still, he was a man of the world and knew how to save a situation. “And why this modesty, Miss Bennet? Looking at you and Mrs Collins, anyone could deduce that Hertfordshire boasts attractive young ladies.”

“Being attractive is not the same as being accomplished,” Lady Catherine interjected.

“Well then,” Mr Darcy replied, “I can vouch for both Mrs Collins’s and Miss Bennet’s accomplishments.”

Elizabeth silently thanked him, while Charlotte blushed with pleasure at being included in such a compliment.

“Thank you, Mr Darcy,” Charlotte murmured.

Despite the colonel’s skilful attempts to steer the conversation away, they were left to endure Lady Catherine’s relentless questioning. Her ladyship wanted to know whether Elizabeth’s sisters were older or younger than her, whether any of them was about to be married, whether they were handsome or educated, how many carriages her father kept, and what had been her mother’s maiden name and her age when she married. Elizabeth hardly endured the impertinence of her questions but answered them composedly. Miss Darcy did not mind not being the one to ask the questions; she was interested in everything Elizabeth said. She looked curiously from her aunt to Elizabeth, smiling with delight at the young lady’s replies.

Then, the older lady delved into Charlotte’s domestic problems, giving her plenty of advice on how to solve them all. She even instructed her on unexpected matters concerning caring for her cows and poultry. Elizabeth found nothing was beneath this great lady’s attention, which gave her plenty of occasion to dictate to others.

“Your father’s estate, Miss Bennet, is entailed on Mr Collins, I believe,” Lady Catherine suddenly said, her words emerging quite abruptly and far from the subject of their current conversation. Her aim, unmistakably, was to continue leading the discussion. “Yet for your sake,” she continued, her gaze shifting to Charlotte, “I am glad—”

“Lady Catherine,” interjected Mr Darcy with a vehemence that belied his previously amiable demeanour. “This topic is hardly suitable for the dinner table!”

“And why not?” asked the lady. “It is a predicament not unfamiliar to many, though, I confess, we have never faced such concerns in our family.”

“Why?” retorted Darcy, determined to defend Elizabeth. “I shall tell you. Entails, or such practices that attribute inheritance exclusively to male heirs, are highly questionable when there are daughters in the family.”

A profound silence engulfed the room, the weight of Mr Darcy’s words hanging heavily in the air. Only Elizabeth hid a smile because, again, Mr Darcy had repeated her views from a lively discussion at the home of Mr Phillips, who had contributed with his legal knowledge as a solicitor.

“I can only agree,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “But the matter extends beyond the fate of ladies. It also affects second sons like me.”

“Yet, in a woman’s case, regardless of her position in the family, she is invariably overlooked,” Elizabeth finally said.

“Women are supposed to marry,” said Lord Metcalf, who possessed an estate close to Rosings.

“The matter transcends mere inheritance laws,” Elizabeth ventured. “It is more about a father’s regard for his children, regardless of gender. I am convinced that had my father’s estate not been entailed, he would have endeavoured to divide it equitably amongst his daughters.”

“Estates are ruined by dividing them,” Lady Catherine declared. “These laws exist to maintain a property’s integrity.”

“They are unjust when they cause harm to rightful heirs,” interjected Mr Darcy, to Elizabeth’s growing shock. “Why are you astonished, Miss Bennet?” he continued, noticing her surprise. At the same time, she wondered how closely he had been observing her to see the expression on her face.

“I am surprised because you are the master of a large estate. Would you divide it equally among, say, five children?”

“I would not sell Pemberley if that was the question,” Mr Darcy responded, “but I believe in fair distribution of wealth among all my children, as my parents did.”

“Enough of this matter,” Lady Catherine abruptly concluded.

And Miss Darcy sighed beside Elizabeth, a sign she had not enjoyed the conversation.

Elizabeth searched Miss Darcy’s eyes and smiled to show that she was not angry or frustrated, confident for now that aloofness was not a family trait or due to their social circle. If some people were afflicted with it, it came more likely from their nature or a personal interpretation of one’s education; after all, Miss Darcy and her brother had the same parents. However, looking to the other end of the table, she wondered if it was, after all, a temporary ailment, for she observed Mr Darcy speaking and smiling and looking at her from time to time as if it had always been that way.

“Do you play and sing, Miss Bennet?” asked Lady Catherine.

“A little,” Elizabeth replied.

“Then we must have the pleasure of hearing you. Our instrument must be superior to what you have at home.”

“I do not think I am skilled enough to play in such company,” Elizabeth said. She did not like the idea of exhibiting at all.

“Nonsense, Miss Bennet. I remember my nephew telling us how accomplished you are.”

Lady Catherine might seem vain, but she also had a clever mind and many schemes to humiliate. Yet Elizabeth was sure that her playing, which was far from perfection, would be enough in the company of Lady Catherine. She nodded, accepting, but her acceptance was superfluous in the house where everything happened because her ladyship had given an order.

Elizabeth hated that particular moment when the ladies withdrew. The separation of the sexes at Rosings signalled the beginning of a tedious period. Lady Catherine’s never-ending monologues often induced drowsiness among the ladies after the rich dinner they had just eaten.

However, on this particular evening, a pleasant diversion awaited Elizabeth. Instead of entering the drawing-room, Miss Darcy invited her and Anne to the music room, explaining to the rest of the party that Miss Bennet wished to rehearse before performing. Without waiting to hear Lady Catherine’s expected objections, they quickly retreated, hearing her ladyship’s voice protesting and calling them back as the door closed behind them. Anne timidly excused herself once in the hall. She departed, almost running up the stairs towards her apartment, leaving the two ladies alone yet far from displeased.

They watched Anne as she left; a single glance exchanged between them was enough to convey all they felt—a shared regret that the young woman, who ought to have delighted in all she was and all she possessed, appeared instead as an unhappy prisoner in her own home.

Once in the beautiful music room, Elizabeth looked gratefully at Miss Darcy, who responded with a small smile. “I tend to be polite, but facing Lady Catherine is sometimes difficult. I am not used to harsh words or confrontation at dinner.” But immediately, she blushed as it looked like she was criticising her aunt, and that was something not taught by her upbringing. “You see, she has this disastrous effect on me—”

Elizabeth began to play while Miss Darcy continued to speak. “Fitzwilliam was right. My father took equal care of us both…as you said your father would—”

A slight discord in the otherwise harmonious music drew Miss Darcy’s attention, causing her to pause and study Elizabeth intently. The latter’s eyes were fixed on the keys, though her flushed face and neck betrayed a deep unease. Elizabeth’s discomposure was unmistakable. Having spent sufficient time amidst London society, Georgiana was well aware that young ladies were adept at speaking on any topic—a practice she neither admired nor endorsed. In the face of such intimate and mortifying revelations concerning her family, Miss Elizabeth’s frustration mirrored the very sentiment Georgiana herself would have felt in similar circumstances.

“I am sorry,” Miss Darcy murmured, genuinely troubled, blushing herself.

“No, please do not be. I can discuss any subject with you…but…” Elizabeth did not continue, certain that the clever young lady had understood. It was strange how close she felt to Mr Darcy’s sister after less than two hours spent together and how they shared ideas, principles, and even emotions.

It was a great pleasure to discover Miss Darcy to be the opposite of her brother—shy, warm, and eager to befriend. Her presence at Rosings suddenly made Elizabeth’s stay more enjoyable. Before that evening, she had hesitated to extend her time in Kent by more than a few days to meet Lady Catherine’s guests. However, spending time with Miss Darcy changed her mind, making her secretly wish to gain a friend in Mr Darcy’s sister.

Miss Darcy also harboured a hidden purpose for her visit to Rosings. The aim of this journey had taken root at Pemberley, where she had spent January and February with her brother. There, unusually, he had let slip a few intriguing thoughts about his stay at Netherfield and, more notably, about a young woman he had encountered there. Such minor indiscretions were entirely out of character for him. Gradually, she began to notice a subtle and happy transformation in their relationship, and it was also due to the lady he had met in Hertfordshire. He liked her and could not keep that feeling to himself.

Strange as it might seem, the dramatic events of the previous summer when she had nearly eloped with Mr Wickham had brought about a positive change between them. Suddenly, he no longer saw her as a child needing constant protection but as a young woman who had matured—his sister with whom he could share fragments of his thoughts and feelings. Then, a particular lady had appeared in his life, now identified as Miss Bennet, and that new relationship had evolved even more.

Her brother did not expect her to grasp the full significance of his stories about Hertfordshire or to perceive the depth of his feelings for Elizabeth Bennet, whose name he had never uttered during their time at Pemberley. Yet, everything became clear when a letter from Lady Catherine arrived in London, mentioning that Miss Bennet was visiting her cousin, Mr Collins, and intended to stay a few more days.

Confronted with his intense emotions, Georgiana realised everything he had shared at Pemberley was about that young lady. At that moment, the desire to meet Miss Bennet became utterly compelling.

“I must confess that I am not particularly pleased to perform this evening,” said Elizabeth. “I am far from being an accomplished player.”

“Allow me to assure you that is not true.”

“Your technique is superior, I am certain,” Elizabeth replied, “Your brother mentioned that you studied under a renowned master. I, on the other hand, have never studied with anyone. Everything I know, I discovered on my own, through practice or by listening to others play.”

“My technique may be more polished, but you certainly pour your heart into every piece you play. You grasp its deeper meaning, and that is far more significant. If you are ever in London, I shall invite you to our home when Monsieur Touraine comes for my lesson. I am confident you would need only the slightest of suggestions from him—and only regarding your technique. He greatly values students who understand the music they perform.”

Elizabeth nodded, delighted by the prospect of seeing Miss Darcy again in London. It was a relationship she had contemplated even before meeting her.

“We might also attend the theatre together,” Georgiana proposed. Elizabeth assented with a delighted smile she made no effort to conceal.

Their conversation was interrupted when the other guests entered the room, taking their seats and awaiting Elizabeth’s performance.

In a sweet and gentle tone, Miss Darcy directed her brother to turn the pages. Elizabeth concealed her smile or any mischievous remark; his help was unnecessary, yet Miss Darcy considered it essential, and Elizabeth accepted the offer.

“Miss Bennet,” he addressed her.

“Mr Darcy,” she replied, and they shared a smile that did not go unnoticed by Miss Darcy as she settled into her own chair, revelling in the joy of bringing those two intriguing souls together.

For the first time in her life, Elizabeth felt a trace of nervousness when she placed her hands on the keys. She wanted to excel in an art that she had never truly mastered. In haste, she remembered the few pianoforte lessons she had received in her aunt Phillips’s house from a tutor who had come to Meryton with other interests when she was fifteen.

“Pay attention to your hand position, finger strength, and general technique,” resonated in her head. “ Begin slowly and gradually increase the tempo, and most of all, remember to enjoy the journey of playing the pianoforte .”

She closed her eyes for a few seconds. When silence descended upon the room, she began playing, imagining it was that tutor, not Mr Darcy, next to her.

“Your playing has much improved,” Mr Darcy said with genuine admiration at the end of the short concert.

“Perhaps because she had help with the pages,” Miss Darcy said, approaching them. She observed with satisfaction how both smiled as they looked at each other.

∞∞∞

“I liked Miss Bennet very much. She is exactly as you described her—a rare and friendly soul,” Georgiana said, hoping she had been sufficiently clear in showing her brother that she valued Miss Bennet as a friend but also as a potential sister. Darcy laughed as he escorted her to her room. She paused on the threshold before opening the door, and in the dim light of the hall, Darcy caught a glimpse of their mother in her. Georgiana resembled her so strikingly that his heart hurt, yet a hint of happiness also invaded him, as having Georgiana was like not having lost Lady Anne for good.

“If you have something to ask me, ask,” he said, maintaining a smile on his face, precisely as he might have addressed their mother.

“Perhaps it is you who has something to tell me,” Georgiana replied with unexpected courage, emboldened by the extraordinary openness of her brother, who had silently agreed to speak plainly and not merely in hints, as he had done for months.

“I might have, Mother,” he answered with a trace of humour. “But not tonight, and certainly not in a hall in Lady Catherine’s house. Besides, I cannot help but wonder what you have already guessed.”