by Jennifer Joy
“Mama, do you not think it best for Mrs. Hill to relate her news to us in private? After all, if she has heard something regarding Mr. Darcy, of what benefit would it be to anyone but us to hear?” Elizabeth did not attempt to exclude Mother from the conversation, knowing very well her persuasions would fall on deaf ears. “If it is a matter of delicacy, which I suspect it is from Mrs. Hill’s direct approach to only me, then we need not worry at its being spread needlessly. Proposals have been hindered for lesser crimes.” That would get Mother’s attention, but Elizabeth knew better than to leave her without a good reason to leave Lydia behind. “On the other hand, if it is worth repeating, we may do so for all in the room to hear this same night.”
That decided Mother. “Lydia, wait just a few minutes, dear. I daresay, you will find out what is happening soon enough. Keep your sisters company until we return.”
Mrs. Hill’s closed lips and downcast eyes contradicted Mother’s reassurances. Curious. However, they were able to leave the room without Lydia.
Not knowing what to expect, Elizabeth followed Mrs. Hill and Mother into the kitchen where Mrs. Hill proceeded to look along the hall to ensure they had not been followed and closed the door. Curiouser.
Mother, unheeding of Mrs. Hill's efforts to ensure they were not overheard, asked in a loud shrill, "Mrs. Hill, whatever is this about?"
"Shhh. Please, ma'am. First, before I reveal anything, I must have your promise that you will not reveal this bit of news to anyone." She looked pointedly at Mother, "Not your sister nor your other daughters. Please understand if it becomes known you are in possession of this information and it is tracked back to me, I will not hesitate to deny it. Even at the loss of my place here."
Her determination silenced Mother and left Elizabeth speechless. This was serious.
Elizabeth could not pretend not to be interested in Mrs. Hill's news, but she would never ask their faithful housekeeper to divulge information which endangered her living. "Are you certain you wish to tell us? Is it a secret worth telling?"
"That is the only reason I am willing to tell you, miss. I have watched you grow since you were brought into this world. My greatest wish, not having been blessed with living children of my own, is to see all of you happily settled." Her eyes flickered over to Mother, her eyebrows knitting together before she pulled her gaze back to Elizabeth. No wonder Mrs. Hill had sought to speak to her alone.
Mother clucked like a hen. "Of course I will safeguard your secret, Mrs. Hill. You know how my every thought and action is for the happiness of my girls. And Lizzy has caught the attention of the best gentleman of all. I would do nothing to put her chances with Mr. Darcy in peril."
Elizabeth held her breath and forced her eyes forward so as not to roll them. Clearly, Mrs. Hill was not entirely convinced either. Mother, though, in her own mind, considered herself solely responsible for the successful matches of each of her daughters and nothing they could say would convince her otherwise.
Mrs. Hill motioned for them to sit at the small table. Clasping her hands together, she said, "Mind you, I do not know the details. Mrs. Molly only told me what she must, and so, while my information is disturbing, it is vague. In the wrong hands, it could do a great deal of damage and it would certainly affect Mr. Darcy’s feelings toward Miss Elizabeth."
Elizabeth’s heartbeat vibrated in her ears and worry settled like sour milk in her stomach.
To her credit, Mother looked concerned. In a grave tone, she answered, "We cannot have that. I would never do anything to discourage a gentleman, and thus, I am pleased I insisted on forming a part of this discussion, Mrs. Hill. I will guard your secret to help my Lizzy secure Mr. Darcy."
Elizabeth saw the conflict in Mrs. Hill’s furrowed brow. She had something of importance to relate, but it was plain she did not wish to do so before her mistress.
By now, Elizabeth was on pins and needles. If Mr. Darcy had a secret, why had he not told her? He had freely told her about his sister's near brush with ruin at Ramsgate. She had assumed, prematurely from the standing of things, that he trusted her.
"Mrs. Hill, speak! We do not have all evening," complained Mother, as eager to hear the news as Elizabeth was.
Clasping her knobby hands together, Mrs. Hill said slowly, "As you know, ma'am, Miss Elizabeth is as dear to me as a daughter. And she is well-liked in the village. It is known that Mr. Darcy prefers her, and there is not one person who has watched Miss Elizabeth grow into a confident, fine, young miss who would object to her union with such an honorable gentleman. Mrs. Molly is no different. She emphasized to me her motive in revealing what she must so clearly, I have no doubt of her sincerity and loyalty to the happiness of Miss Elizabeth."
Relief rushed over Elizabeth. Mrs. Hill still considered Mr. Darcy honorable. That was enough for her. "In giving my affairs too great an importance, I hope Mrs. Molly is not putting her position in danger. I would rather not know of it and trust Mr. Darcy to reveal matters pertaining to me directly. Please, Mrs. Hill, say no more."
Mrs. Hill smiled, but Mother pinched her arm. Elizabeth bit her tongue to keep from yelping aloud.
"Nonsense! Her loyalty is well-placed and will be rewarded all the more when you become the mistress of Pemberley," Mother said, releasing her hold.
Elizabeth rubbed her throbbing skin. "Be that so or not — for nobody can induce Mr. Darcy to propose to a lady unless he wishes it — I would not be able to live with my conscience if it became known Mrs. Molly or Mrs. Hill had any part in betraying a confidence."
Mrs. Hill shook her head. "Oh no, miss. She was particularly careful to keep from doing that. Let me tell you what she told me and you can be the judge. You may not have heard, but Mr. Darcy’s aunt has come to Meryton. Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings Park in Kent.”
The Lady Catherine of whom Mr. Collins’ spoke with elevated reverence. Elizabeth had no desire to meet the lady. Mother, however, clapped her hands together and began scheming.
Mrs. Hill continued, “Miss de Bourgh is quite sickly and would make an unsuitable wife for Mr. Darcy. Of that fact, Mrs. Molly was clear and she repeats nothing of which the people of Meryton would not ascertain for themselves in a short time. What is of more concern is Lady Catherine de Bourgh's claim that Mr. Darcy is these many years engaged to Miss de Bourgh." Mrs. Hill clamped her lips shut, her eyes darting between Elizabeth and her mistress.
Mother gasped, covering her mouth with her hand, then falling into noisy contemplation frequently emphasized with sighs, gestures, and more clicks of her tongue.
Elizabeth did not believe it. Mr. Darcy would never encourage the affections of a lady if he were not free to do so. There was yet much she had to learn about him, but she did not doubt his honor. It simply could not be true and, unless he told her of the attachment himself, she would give it no credence. It must merely be Lady Catherine’s fantasy … and Elizabeth did not doubt that Mr. Darcy would act as he wished despite the delusional wishes imposed upon him by his relatives.
Mother raised a finger into the air as inspiration crossed her. "I know just what to do. If I arrange to be introduced to this Lady Catherine — after all, Mr. Collins is the rector for her parish — I could reason with her. Surely, I could make her see the advantages of allowing her nephew to marry my daughter."
Elizabeth coughed to cover her gasp. Though she did not believe herself inferior to Miss de Bourgh, she had sense enough to know which match society would favor. No doubt, Miss de Bourgh would bring a fortune to her marriage and, if Mr. Collins was to be trusted, she stood to inherit Rosings— a grand estate by anyone's standards. Elizabeth had little more than herself to offer.
Mrs. Hill’s eyes opened as wide as an owl’s. "Mrs. Bennet, I beg you not to interfere. Lady Catherine is every bit as determined as you are to have her daughter marry Mr. Darcy. If she spreads it around the village that he is attached to Miss de Bourgh, Miss Elizabeth's hopes would be forever dashed. Please, Mrs. Bennet, I implore you to say nothing to Lady Cat
herine."
Mother did not take kindly to Mrs. Hill's interference. Puffing out her chest and lifting her chin, she said, "Do not forget your place, Mrs. Hill. I will do as I see best for my daughter. Now, I will not remain cross with you as you have done your duty well in sharing this information with me, but I am not in need of your counsel."
A stubborn defiance crossed Mrs. Hill, so that Elizabeth thought for a moment that the housekeeper would contradict Mother, but it passed as soon as it had appeared. Bowing her head, Mrs. Hill nodded in servile acquiescence.
The housekeeper cast a look full of pity at Elizabeth before she left the room after Mother dismissed her. Elizabeth knew that even if she implored Mother not to involve herself, she would only get the same reply as Mrs. Hill had. She was decided. Mother would try to speak with Lady Catherine.
Elizabeth secured Mother’s silence from her sisters — being unable to secure anything more — and went upstairs, pondering ways to prevent Mother from going into Meryton on the morrow. What if a wheel fell off the carriage? No, someone might get hurt. A purgative in Mother’s tea? No, that was akin to poisoning her own relative and Elizabeth had to draw the line somewhere. A small fire in the house? … No, nothing would stop Mother when marriage was on the line.
Chapter 7
After a fitful night of tossing and turning, Elizabeth woke before the sun to venture out of doors. Not many more days without rain could pass, and Elizabeth meant to enjoy them before the inclement weather trapped her indoors. If she was honest with herself, the reason she directed her steps toward the hills surrounding Netherfield Park was in the hopes of seeing Mr. Darcy. While she did not doubt him, she had many unanswered questions. A word from him would restore her peace of mind.
Why did Lady Catherine assume he was engaged to Miss de Bourgh? From what malady did she suffer? Would Mr. Darcy have married her had she not been in such a delicate state? What influence did Lady Catherine have over Mr. Darcy? Her influence could not be very great. Otherwise, he would have married her daughter years before. And most important of all: How could she keep Mother from speaking with Lady Catherine?
Elizabeth shivered. The consequences of vexing someone such as Lady Catherine de Bourgh would not be favorable toward the Bennet family. Elizabeth had not met the great lady, but she had heard enough about her from Mr. Collins to know she was not one to be crossed.
Wandering through the fields, Elizabeth prayed Mr. Darcy would canter toward her on his dark stallion and rescue her from her disquieting thoughts just as he had rescued her from the murderer’s carriage weeks before.
But it was not to be. She walked until the sun's rays lightened the horizon and reflected its warmth in the red clouds surrounded by pink haze. Mr. Darcy did not appear.
Returning to Longbourn, the residents of the house were recently awakening to receive another day. Father raised his tea cup to her before closing his study door behind him. Which reminded Elizabeth of the books. Mr. Darcy would have to call soon. Would he present his gift to Father today? Undoubtedly.
Thus cheered at the prospect of seeing Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth was better suited to see to the more urgent predicament before her. Namely, to ensure Mother did not go to Meryton … to Lady Catherine.
Convinced Mr. Darcy would call, Elizabeth was unwilling to leave Longbourn until he had the opportunity to do so. She knew from Jane that Mr. Bingley planned to call. Elizabeth smelled the mouth-watering cinnamon aroma wafting out from the kitchen. Mrs. Hill was preparing for callers.
Not having settled on a satisfactory plan to prevent Mother from going into the village the evening before (all of her ideas had been much too fanciful, though they would have made a fantastic novel) Elizabeth was startled from her thoughts when Kitty greeted her.
"Good morning. You are awake early." Elizabeth kissed her contented sister on the cheek.
Kitty bobbed excitedly up and down on her toes. "I have so much to do! We were unable to do any stitching at all on my gown at Aunt's yesterday, and I worry my trousseau will not be ready in time for the wedding. Oh, I do hope we receive confirmation from Denny's parish soon. I can hardly wait to marry him and travel to Bath."
Continuing without pause for breath, Kitty added, "I had planned to go into Meryton today. Mrs. Burk told me she would have some new gloves soon and I had hoped to get them for Denny. However, my gown is in desperate need of my attention. Mary and Lydia will have to go without me."
"Mary and Lydia may not want to go into the village without you. Perhaps you can convince them to stay at home and help you with your dress." It was the perfect solution. Mother would be every bit as concerned that Kitty looked her best for her grand day and might be persuaded to stay to offer her assistance.
"True. Mary was only going to walk with us in order to meet Mrs. Thorne anyway. She has been accompanying her on her calls to the poor. When I am married, I plan to help others more than I have done. Denny says that his mother often does charitable work."
Elizabeth wrapped her arm around Kitty's shoulders. She would make Mr. Denny a creditable wife, and she was inclined to think Mr. Denny would work equally hard to prove himself a worthy husband. They would only be one step above poor, but they would be happy.
"Help me convince Mama to stay at home then, and we will all help you with your gown today."
Kitty turned to squeeze Elizabeth. "You are the best sister! Thank you, Lizzy."
"You may have to tear out most of my stitches and thus regret my offer of help, but the lace shall be attached to your dress today. That, I can offer."
"You tease me. You are not entirely helpless with a needle when you decide to do the work properly. You are much better at it than Lydia."
Elizabeth groaned. Lydia was much better at disassembling her sisters’ dresses for the few frills adorning them for her own gowns. "We shall let her do the hem."
With a giggle, Kitty ran back upstairs to fetch her gown and its trimmings while Elizabeth settled into the front parlor, content she had taken a long walk that morning. It looked to be a long, dull morning, and the sun beaming through the windows taunted her for choosing to punish herself by sewing all day indoors.
Elizabeth chose a spot on the settee with her back to the window and selected a needle for her morning's work. Sacrifices must be made. One day indoors would not harm her. If anything, it would improve her complexion. She had too many freckles.
Convincing herself of the advantages of staying out of the beckoning sun, she reasoned she would not meet Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst by chance, and thus be forced to converse with them. There were many benefits with which she attempted to persuade herself of the advantages of her plan. However, the only one which held any weight was the possibility Mr. Darcy might call.
The conversation around the breakfast table was full of lace, buttons, and other concerns suitable to a wedding. Elizabeth contributed more to the conversation than she would have under normal circumstances, earning several raisings of the eyebrows from both Mary and Jane, but Elizabeth was too satisfied to give the matter too much care. Her plan met with success. Jane would not leave when Mr. Bingley would call anyway and Mary was perfectly happy to go into the village accompanied by the maid, who offered to call at the haberdashery to check on Kitty's gloves for Mr. Denny as well as run some errands for Mrs. Hill.
Mother, in the hope Mr. Darcy might call along with Mr. Bingley, cleared the parlor of every evidence of their work of the morning. "Do you suppose Lady Catherine will present her card with Mr. Darcy?" she asked, picking pieces of thread from the carpet and flicking them into the fireplace.
Elizabeth certainly hoped not.
Mary, whom Mother had obligated to stay long enough to see if Colonel Fitzwilliam might accompany Mr. Darcy on his call, said, "I should very much like to meet Lady Catherine. Mr. Collins spoke highly of her."
Elizabeth admitted to a certain curiosity about Lady Catherine. Could Mr. Collins' claims about the greatness of the lady possibly be true? That she was an imposi
ng figure she surmised from his accounts, as well as Lady Catherine’s connection to Mr. Darcy. Only a woman accustomed to getting her way would insist on an engagement he could not have entered into.
Carriage wheels and crunching gravel under horses’ hooves caused the usual mad rush of pinching cheeks, adjusting ribbons and curls, and shoving any unwanted items under cushions. By the time callers were announced, skirts were straightened, cheeks were bright pink (bruised and raw, but pretty nonetheless), and each member of the family posed to their best advantage to receive them lest Mother attack their cheeks again.
The butler announced, "Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Lady Catherine de Bourgh are—"
Mother interrupted him with the impatient clapping of her hands. Elizabeth wished she could share in her enthusiasm, but she did not trust Mother not to say something unfortunate.
Father raised his bushy eyebrows, grinning mischievously. "Ooh, people! See them in."
He winked at Elizabeth and she wished, not for the first time, that he could be trusted to keep Mother in check. He took too much enjoyment in her blunders, though, and she knew he would be no help at all.
Three shadows darkened the doorway before the lady who could only be Lady Catherine de Bourgh filled the small room with her puffed, powdered hair and swishing, silk skirts — the picture of a duchess from another era. Elizabeth doubted her outdated style was not done on purpose, but rather of a clearly calculated and impressively persuasive desire to emit a sense of grandeur.
Her coiffure was as high as her sense of self-importance, suggested by the tilt of her chin and the look of disdain with which she regarded Elizabeth down the length of her aristocratic nose.
Lady Catherine could impose or demand whatever she pleased, Elizabeth’s courage always rose with every attempt to intimidate her. She could handle it with a sense of humor. The real challenge would be not to laugh while she did so.