Where The Heart Belongs

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Where The Heart Belongs Page 10

by Tilly Davis


  But her worries soon turned to joy, as outside on the path the Bennets were reunited, Elizabeth embracing all her sisters in turn, and leaving the final embrace to her father who almost fell over as she hugged him to her so tightly.

  ‘My dear, Elizabeth,’ he said, ‘how we have missed you.’

  ‘And I you,’ she replied.

  ‘My dear Mr. Bennet, your state of decay was vastly overexaggerated, see, Elizabeth, your father is quite fine, he is standing on his own two feet, is he not?’ Mrs. Bennet said, ‘Jane, you should not have worried us so in your letter.’

  ‘Jane has been a most exemplary nurse,’ Mr. Bennet said, ‘it is because of her that I am standing on my own two feet, Doctor Dukes’ ministrations notwithstanding, ah, and here is our host.’

  Mr. Collins had found himself to be somewhat disturbed from his ecclesiastical labours in the study by the arrival of Bennets’ carriage. If truth be told he had not looked forward to their arrival in his domain, a week at Longbourn having been quite enough to demonstrate to him the many perceived faults which his wider family possessed. Nevertheless, he was intelligent enough to realise that cultivating a familial relationship with them would be to his advantage.

  ‘I trust your journey here was a pleasant one,’ he said, greeting Mr. Bennet and each of the sisters, ‘but is this another Bennet sister who was secreted away from me?’ he asked, looking Charlotte Lucas up and down.

  ‘This is Charlotte, my dearest and oldest friend,’ Elizabeth said, as Charlotte gave a brief curtsey.

  ‘Yet another lovely addition to the brood,’ Mr. Collins said, ‘now perhaps those who are to stay here at the parsonage should be shown to their rooms, Elizabeth, and those who are to have the comfort of the village inn go to make themselves known there and we shall reconvene for some supper together a little later on?’

  These plans assented to, the family went their separate ways, Mr. Bennet and Jane accompanying Mrs. Bennet and Elizabeth inside, whilst Mary, Kitty, Lydia and Charlotte made their way to the inn, where the landlord, one Josiah Kirk, was awaiting them.

  ‘What poky little rooms,’ Mary complained, as the landlord left them to settle in. She and Charlotte were sharing a room overlooking the village green, with two small beds crammed into a space meant surely for one, a washstand and a small table made up the rest of the furnishings.

  Kitty and Lydia fared similarly badly, but their room was at the back of the inn, with views towards Rosings Park, a fact which aroused their interest and curiosity since it was possible to see with ease the comings and goings from the estate.

  ‘Don’t you think that Lady Catherine de Bourgh sounds frightful?’ Kitty said, as she looked out towards Rosings Park, doing her best impression of Mr. Collins’ enunciation, which her mother had threatened her not to perform in public.

  ‘She sounds awful,’ Lydia replied, ‘and to think that Elizabeth will have to entertain her, and bow and scrape to her like Mr. Collins does.’

  ‘I shouldn’t entertain the idea,’ Kitty said, ‘Mr. Wickham speaks of no one except himself, he has no one else to speak of,’ and both girls laughed.

  ‘Look, Kitty,’ Lydia said, ‘you can see people walking in the parkland of Rosings, do you think they’re guests of Lady Catherine?’

  ‘Well, one is particularly tall, and the other is lady, though she looks all hunched up, how mysterious,’ Kitty said, as the two girls strained their necks to get a better look at the two figures who were walking together in the park.

  ‘Why, Kitty,’ Lydia suddenly exclaimed, ‘it is Mr. Darcy!’

  Her sister let out a shriek as both girls realised that the figure was indeed that of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, his figure unmistakable now as he walked with the unknown woman, whom the reader will have guessed was Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s daughter, Anne.

  Lydia and Kitty now faced a dilemma, should they inform Elizabeth of Mr. Darcy’s presence, or simply hope that his arrival at Rosings Park would not affect the proceedings of the coming days?

  At length, and after much debate, they decided to keep the matter to themselves. Mr. Darcy was no doubt visiting his aunt and he had every right to do so, Rosings Park being the seat of a member of his family. It was mere coincidence that this weekend a girl, of whom he had made acquaintance at Netherfield some months before, should be married in the parish church of the Rosings Park estate, quite a coincidence and nothing more.

  With this now established, Lydia and Kitty joined Mary and Charlotte Lucas in their room and the four resolved to now make their way to the parsonage, the others oblivious as to what the two sisters had just observed.

  ‘I am sure these quarters will do for you, Mr. Bennet,’ Mrs. Bennet said, as her husband emerged from the stairwell, where he had struggled a little with Mr. Collins’ steep stair.

  ‘I am sure they will be more than adequate, Mrs. Bennet,’ he said.

  ‘And Jane, you are to share with Elizabeth, a makeshift bed has been erected for you, and of course you will no doubt be eager to assist your sister on the night prior to her wedding.’

  ‘I have no doubt of it, Mother,’ Jane said, as she and Elizabeth entered the little whitewashed room and began to unpack.

  It was a jolly scene when they descended the stairs to find Lydia, Kitty, Mary and Charlotte awaiting them and with Mr. Collins out on parochial business on one of the outlying farms, it felt as if the family were truly once more back together.

  ‘It is certainly a fine little parsonage,’ Mr. Bennet observed, as he seated himself by the fire and stretched out his legs, ‘most fine.’

  ‘Don’t allow Mr. Collins to overhear you declare it ‘small,’ Father,’ Elizabeth said, laughing, ‘he insists that it is twice the size of the parsonage at Ledington, and far better placed than that at Hoddley.’

  ‘Well, neither of those places contain Lady Catherine de Bourgh,’ Mr. Bennet observed, ‘and they can only be the poorer for that surely.’

  ‘My dear Mr. Bennet, such blatant rudeness as to our host and his patron, if he were here now we should be thrown out, and Elizabeth with us.’

  ‘Which is why I make such comments only when my audience is sympathetic,’ Mr. Bennet said, smiling at his daughters who broke out in a chorus of laughter.

  ‘Tomorrow there will be much to do,’ his wife continued, ignoring her husband’s slandering of their host, ‘I wish everything perfect in preparation for Elizabeth’s wedding on Saturday.’

  ‘Mother, what more is there to do? I doubt that the whole regiment of Meryton could better orchestrate these procedures than you have proved yourself able of doing,’ Elizabeth said.

  There was indeed little left to do, if there was much to be done in the first place. The bishop would arrive in the morning on Saturday and the wedding would take place at two o’clock in the afternoon, Lady Catherine de Bourgh would attend, along with other friends of Mr. Collins, notably several clergymen from the surrounding district and an old friend of his father who lived around ten miles away. After the wedding had taken place a supper would be held in the de Bourgh Arms and that would be that, it being Sunday the next morning and Mr. Collins having already declared that he would require a full night’s sleep after the excitement of the day.

  With these facts established it seemed that the next day could largely be taken at leisure, and when Mr. Collins returned from his parochial visiting a little later on, he found the family somewhat wearied, the effects of the day’s travel having taken its toll upon them.

  ‘I do believe I shall go to my bed,’ Mr. Bennet said, after a simple supper of bread and cheese had been consumed.

  ‘And we to ours too,’ Lydia and Kitty said, for they had no intention of sitting up with Mr. Collins if such a fate could be avoided.

  One by one the family made their excuses, the four lodgers at the inn making their way back there and to bed, Lydia and Kitty looking out once again to see if they could spy the outline of Mr. Darcy at the windows of the great house. Which, alas, they couldn’
t.

  Jane and Elizabeth also made their excuses and now that they were alone the two women could speak some of thoughts which had been dwelling on their mind.

  ‘Father is most unwell, isn’t he, Jane?’ Elizabeth said, as they wrapped in a blanket in front of the fire.

  ‘More so than any of us realise, I fear,’ Jane said, ‘he wouldn’t allow the doctor to offer anything more than the most basic ministrations, insisting that he would be well, and today he has struggled so, and he disguises his cough, but it is becoming worse. Perhaps a change of air will do him good, but I fear the worst.’

  ‘Mother wouldn’t hear of him being ill,’ Elizabeth said, ‘she pretends at an exasperation towards him, but if he were to die then I fear it would be the end of her too.’

  ‘I think you’re right, but he has talked of nothing else except coming here to see you these past weeks,’ Jane said

  ‘And now we are all gathered,’ Elizabeth said, ‘the stage is finally set, and the actors assembled.’

  ‘Do you still wish to marry Mr. Collins, Elizabeth?’ Jane said, ‘for now is the time to say so if you do not.’

  ‘How can I say anything other than yes,’ Elizabeth said, ‘to refuse him now, and with father in such a perilous state would see us all homeless and disgraced too, for what man would wish for damaged goods.’

  ‘Only a man who truly loved you,’ Jane said.

  ‘The one man I thought did so is now betrothed,’ Elizabeth said, ‘there will be no chance of reclaiming him from Caroline Bingley’s clutches.’

  ‘Then you are having second thoughts,’ her sister said, ‘are you in love with Mr. Darcy?’

  ‘I thought I was, but I am not sure now,’ Elizabeth said, ‘I have resigned myself to this fate and that is to be the end of it.’

  ‘But this place, Mr. Collins, why I have been here just a few hours and already I detest it, and most of that has been without his company. Dearest Elizabeth, listen to your heart and not your head, we would survive, and we would prosper too, isn’t that what father has always taught us too?’ Jane said.

  ‘Dearest sister, yes, it is,’ Elizabeth said, wrapping herself in the blankets, as the two sisters now sat side by side on the bed, ‘but what else am I to do? So many other women have endured a similar fate, a husband that they did not fully love, and perhaps in time I will come at least to familial feelings for Mr. Collins, and as for my situation here, there is little else I can hope to do. Let us sleep now, perhaps the situation will appear better in the morning once you have spent the night here, the thought distresses me too much to discuss it further.’

  Reluctantly Jane agreed to sleep, but as they snuffed out their candles and settled down, the embers of the fire now glowing low, both sisters passed a restless night, as thoughts of what was to come now weighed heavily upon their minds.

  5

  The Day Before

  The new and temporary residents of Hunsford had, between them, passed a tolerable night, with those in the inn having slept the most soundly. The noise of Mr. Collins rising early to ring the church bell for Matins, which no one attended on a weekday save for himself and the assistant curates, had awoken the residents of the parsonage, who were now at their breakfast.

  At the inn Mary and Charlotte, who really did not know one another particularly well, had fallen asleep almost at once, whilst those at the rear of the inn, namely Miss Lydia and Miss Kitty Bennet, had spent much of the night burning their candles at both ends, discussing the presence of Mr. Darcy at Rosings Park, and what that might mean for the forthcoming marriage, which no one could quite believe was going to occur the very next day.

  ‘Lydia, Kitty, wake up, we shall be late, and you know how Mother fusses so,’ Mary called through the door to her sisters, as Charlotte Lucas waited on the stairs.

  They had been instructed to make their way across to the parsonage as soon as ever they were ready that morning, but having spent so long awake at their discussion, the two youngest of the Bennet sisters now slept soundly, as Mary continued rapping upon the door.

  At length they awoke, and replied that they would be present as soon as possible, both secretly hoping to catch another glimpse of Mr. Darcy walking in the parkland.

  Mary and Charlotte went on without them, explaining to Mrs. Bennet, who was already in a state of heightened excitement, that the two would be along shortly, clearly more concerned for their bed than with assisting their sister as her wedding approached.

  But the tardiness of Lydia and Kitty reaped its own reward.

  The church bell had just struck nine o’clock, and both girls had decided that really they should walk over to the parsonage, less their mother’s wrath know no bounds, when Lydia let out a little shriek as she stood by the window looking out towards the parkland.

  ‘Kitty, look, there he is again riding in the trap with Lady Catherine, come quickly, they are just about to ride around into the trees.’

  Kitty rushed over to the window, just in time to see Mr. Darcy and Lady Catherine disappearing from view, appearing to be in earnest conversation.

  There was now no doubt that Mr. Darcy was staying at Rosings Park. Would he attend the wedding of Elizabeth and Mr. Collins?

  ‘He wouldn’t dare, would he?’ Kitty said, voicing both their thoughts out loud.

  ‘Well, the old woman shall be the guest of honour surely?’ Lydia replied.

  And as Lydia and Kitty now made their way across to the parsonage, thoughts of Mr. Darcy’s intentions foremost in their minds, we shall join Lady Catherine and the gentleman in question as they make their way around the parkland, and perhaps gain some answers to our questions.

  When Lady Catherine had invited her nephew to stay at Rosings Park she had done so with no thoughts of the possible connection between her chaplain’s betrothed and the young man who had been visiting her since he was a child. He annually made the long journey from Pemberley to spend part of the summer with her in Kent, she having judged that her influence upon him was needed in order to counteract the laissez-faire attitude which often prevailed in Derbyshire.

  His visits had become something of a tradition, and, whilst she had resigned herself to the fact that he and Anne would not enter a state of matrimony, she retained something of an affection, as far as Lady Catherine was capable of such things, for her eldest nephew, and the man to whom she had left her estate.

  Mr. Darcy had not of course realised until his arrival, that the wedding of Elizabeth and Mr. Collins was to take place during his stay, he having avoided the announcements column of the newspapers for some time. Caroline Bingley had been wise enough not to inform her betrothed of the latest column inches regarding the forthcoming wedding, the date of which had been placed there some weeks previously.

  But upon his arrival at Rosings Park, Lady Catherine had wasted no time in informing him of the forthcoming marriage taking place at the little church of Hunsford, to which she herself of course had been invited as guest of honour.

  ‘These things are always rather boring,’ she had said at dinner the first evening a few days previously, ‘but one must be seen to be doing the proper things, and Mr. Collins, though quite one of the most boring clergymen I have ever encountered, must be appeased. You’ll accompany me ,of course, Anne may not be well enough to do so.’

  At this Mr. Darcy winced, he had planned to spend the day at leisure, but found he had really very little excuse not to attend.

  ‘I’m not sure it would be appropriate, I have met the Bennets during our time at Netherfield, but that acquaintance is concluded now, I am not invited.’

  ‘Of course you’re invited, I have invited you to be my chaperone.’

  ‘Aunt, you hardly need a chaperone,’ Mr. Darcy had said.

  ‘You are accompanying me and that is final, Fitzwilliam, do I make myself understood?’

  And with that the matter had been concluded.

  Mr. Darcy, being a man of honour, and a gentleman, had written at once to Miss Caroline
Bingley in order to explain the situation, and make it clear that his attendance at the wedding was not a matter of personal choice, but rather a duty which his aunt had asked him to perform. The letter had not been well received.

  Indeed, if Mr. Darcy could have seen his betrothed’s reaction to the news which it contained, he would have considered her something of a spoiled child rather than one of the wealthiest women in England. Though, as we have already noted, with wealth does not necessarily come any form of goodness, and Miss Caroline Bingley was something of a prime example of such a form.

  She had torn the letter into pieces, throwing it into the fire in the drawing room at Berkeley Square, her astonished brother looking on incredulously as she stomped around in a rage, condemning Mr. Darcy for his foolishness, and demanding that he retract his intentions.

  After around half an hour of such foolishness she calmed down a little, and penned a letter to her betrothed in which she absolutely forbade him to attend the wedding of that ‘silly Bennet girl.’ Though the actual words in her head were somewhat more unreserved for a woman of her class.

  The letter was dispatched immediately, and arrived at Rosings Park two days later, Mr. Darcy receiving considerable upset as to its contents, his aunt refusing to make any concessions as to his presence at the wedding on Saturday, she herself stating that such action would result in her being most put out and her own image tarnished, for an aristocratic lady cannot simply go unaccompanied to a wedding of a lower social standing.

  Thus, was the situation which Mr. Darcy found himself in as he rode in the trap with Lady Catherine that morning, the lady in question accustomed to taking a constitutional before breakfast, come rain or shine.

  ‘So, it is decided then, Fitzwilliam? Miss Bingley will simply have to accept my will in this matter and learn to accept the necessity of bowing to her husband’s wishes. I have never heard of such a thing, a betrothed dictating to her would-be husband, it does not bode well for the marriage if she is to constantly challenge you in such matters.’

 

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