by Jayne Bamber
Rebecca moved a little closer and used the corner of Emma’s shawl to wipe away her tears. “Well now, I appreciate your honesty, Emma. I am sure it does you great credit. I will speak to John, in such terms as he shall never suspect your sentiments about the matter. I am sure he will listen to my arguments based on their own merit, and no doubt Mrs. Weston will support me, and Mr. Knightley, too. Cousin John could hardly gainsay his own brother in the matter.”
“Oh, please do not involve Mr. Knightley,” Emma moaned.
Rebecca raised her eyebrows and grimaced. “Why ever not? I am sure he is concerned for your welfare, and certainly he cares for you a great deal.”
Emma tried to conceal her panic. “What – what has he told you?”
“Only that he feels a protective impulse towards you, and that you are a dear, sweet girl, whom he would hate to see meddled with by somebody as mischievous and overbearing as myself.” Rebecca laughed wickedly. “Do not worry, Cousin Emma, that was only when I first met him in September, and I daresay I was up to no good that evening. I believe he has come round to admitting that my company will do you some good, which he assures me you certainly deserve, and I believe you do.”
Emma looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. How kind of Mr. Knightley to procure her such a companion, after all the trouble she had given him in recent months. She had behaved rather churlishly toward him after recovering from her illness, and had even rejected the consolation he had attempted to offer her during the transition of John settling in at Hartfield. Though she could not completely regret how she had behaved toward her longtime friend, she did wish it had gone otherwise. Things had been said that could not be unsaid, and though she was certain she had acted in accordance with her own better judgement, until now she was still not entirely convinced that he had forgiven her for it.
“It is kind of Mr. Knightley to bring you here for my sake,” Emma said, not yet ready to fully confide in her cousin. “I hope he comes to like you better, too.”
“If he does not, I am certain it will be nothing to me,” Rebecca replied quickly. “I am here for you, that is all.” She turned to glance out the window again for a moment, before asking, “I hear there is another gentleman who has been most attentive to you of late? Tell me about Mr. Elton.”
Emma groaned. On this matter, she felt fully capable of being candid with her cousin, whose tone made it clear already that they had nearly the same opinion of him. “Was he still downstairs when you arrived? Odious man, I cannot think what he is about, coming here as often as he does. As if it were not odd enough to call so often on a family in mourning, with whom he has only been acquainted six months, he will not cease to importune me!”
“Importune you? How so?”
Emma glanced down at her lap again. Yet another source of embarrassment for her. How wrong she had been, believing him to have been interested in Harriet! “I became rather friendly with Mr. Elton, before Papa and Isabella died. I thought to make a match between Mr. Elton and Harriet, after Mrs. Weston married. Mr. Knightley advised against it, but of course I did not listen. I was so sure that his constant calling here at Hartfield was only to see her; I suppose it never occurred to me that he would aim so high above his own station, particularly so soon after I went into mourning. Mine has been a most unusual situation, for even when I was very newly in mourning, I had more society than perhaps was right. Mr. and Mrs. Weston have been here nearly every day since then, Mr. Weston to assist Brother John in matters of business, like Mr. Knightley does, and Mrs. Weston to keep company with me. Miss Bates is often coming with her mother Mrs. Bates, for they had long been coming to visit Papa, and after his passing I think they knew not what else to do but keep to their routine of visiting Hartfield. Harriet, too, was here very often, spending the night more often than not, and I quite depended on her for many months. I suppose it seemed to Mr. Elton that Hartfield chose not to forgo our share of company, and thus he must not feel himself in the wrong by visiting as often as he does. Of course, they are all dear friends, nearly family, and he is just a… nuisance!”
“Has he taken advantage of you in any way?”
“A little, perhaps,” Emma admitted. “Nothing terribly untoward, though he did propose marriage about a fortnight after Isabella died.”
“What?!” Rebecca stiffened into a most imposing posture for such a diminutive woman.
“I had given him no encouragement, I swear it. I saw him only as a suitor for my friend, though in my grief I had quite forgotten about my plans to unite them. He had apparently been entirely unaware of my intentions all along, and thought that I welcomed, and indeed expected his advances. He saw himself as quite a hero, sweeping in to rescue me from my misery. Insufferable presumption!”
“That scoundrel,” Rebecca cried. “Vicar of the parish, and he thinks to impose himself on a gentleman’s daughter, while her house is in mourning? Shocking!”
“It gets worse, I am afraid. My first refusal was apparently not sufficient to dissuade him from importuning me further, repeatedly. I have now rejected his proposals on three separate occasions. I cannot understand why he does not believe that I do not care for him, or wish to wed. He insists upon believing that I am merely waiting until my mourning has passed, and continues visiting as if I have not told him firmly and repeatedly that I care nothing for him, nor will I ever. Every time I try to discourage his attentions, he commends me for my delicate grace or some such nonsense!”
Rebecca’s countenance hardened. “Something must be done about it. I daresay it may embarrass you if I speak to John about the matter, but I am sure I am perfectly capable of handling it myself. Do not trouble yourself Cousin Emma, I shall make sure he does not prevail upon you again. I know his type, indeed I do, these upstart gentlemen that think they can prey upon the weaker sex, particularly the most vulnerable amongst us. I sorted out just such a one not long ago in London, a gentleman with far too high an opinion of himself, who sought to ingratiate himself with a young lady of my acquaintance who is only just now coming out into society, and having a rather rough start of it, beleaguered by vicious and untrue rumors about her virtue. This young man sought to exploit what he saw as a weakness, no doubt only after the girl’s dowry, which is substantial, but he underestimated how powerful her friends are.”
Emma felt tears welling in her eyes again. “Oh, Rebecca, I am so glad you are come!”
Rebecca embraced her. “As am I, dearest. And now I think we had better go save poor Mary from Mr. Elton’s unnecessary company, do you not think?”
“Yes,” Emma agreed, “let us go down now and be rid of him!”
***
After Mrs. Weston led Rebecca upstairs, Mary was left to converse with Miss Bates and her niece, and the handsome vicar, Mr. Elton, while Mr. Knightley opened up the doors that led from the drawing room out to the garden, and took the children out to play.
There was an awkward pause, until Miss Bates broke the tension at last. “Lady Rebecca is your cousin as well, Miss Bennet?”
“Not exactly. My elder sister Elizabeth is married to Rebecca’s cousin, though we have both been residing with them these two months in London, and before that we were all together at Mr. Darcy’s estate in Derbyshire, with some other members of our families.”
“I understand Lady Rebecca is also connected to Miss Smith – that is, Miss Sutton, as well,” Mr. Elton prompted her.
“Yes, Miss Sutton’s mother is Lady Rebecca’s aunt, so they are also cousins.”
“My goodness,” Miss Bates said. “What a happy coincidence, do you not think? I am certain I have never heard anything more remarkable. So we have simply exchanged one cousin for another, what a fine thing for Miss Woodhouse, is it not? And how very kind of you and Lady Rebecca to come and condole with poor, dear Miss Woodhouse. I have never seen anyone so greatly depressed as she, after losing her poor father and sister. What a tragedy it was for the whole village, for the fever took many others, as well. I was so very frighte
ned for my own poor Mamma, but we were very fortunate, while some others were not, and to think it was all because of the gypsies that were camped on the west field of town. Who would have known? We thought them perfectly harmless!”
Miss Fairfax began to look slightly embarrassed of her aunt’s meandering manner of speech, though Mary herself was not bothered by the kindly older woman. She was rather like Mary’s own mother, who was certainly prone to talk a great deal, though in truth Mrs. Bennet’s manner of discourse was often more loaded with complaints, and aspersions on their neighbors. While Miss Bates was certainly silly, she did not seem to have a malicious bone in her body.
“Well,” Mr. Elton interjected, “I think it the kindest thing in the world for you and your cousin to leave behind the myriad pleasures of London and come to Highbury. Though the reason for your visit is indeed a sad one, I hope I am not out of line in wishing that your stay here at Hartfield is a pleasant one. I am fairly new to the area myself, having resided in the village less than a year, but I find the society far superior to that from which I parted in Kent. Oh, but perhaps I ought not to say so, as my former patroness, Lady Catherine, is a relation of Lady Rebecca’s.”
Mary regarded Mr. Elton with no little astonishment. “You were employed in Hunsford?”
“Yes, you know of it,” he remarked. “Indeed, I was the curate under one Mr. William Collins, and acted as a temporary parson until a suitable replacement was found. I had hoped that Lady Catherine might consider me for the job, but Lady Rebecca’s brother, the Honorable Mr. Fitzwilliam, very kindly put in a good word for me here in Highbury, so I suppose it all worked out very well indeed.”
“Mr. Collins! Good Heavens, perhaps you may not be aware, sir, but Mr. Collins was my brother by marriage!”
“But of course,” Mr. Elton replied with animation. “Yes, I recall Mrs. Collins very well. What a lovely woman your elder sister is!”
Mary tried not to grimace. Poor Mr. Elton could not have known what Jane really was, and of course a man of the cloth would be favorably disposed towards anyone, particularly a woman also married to a clergyman. Seeing no point in contradicting him, she received his compliment with what grace she could muster before turning the subject.
“It is the most unfortunate thing, but poor Lady Catherine and dear Robert have the greatest difficulty in keeping that position occupied, as I understand the replacement they eventually found has just lately put in his notice, and they have already had to find another new parson. Oh – forgive me, I referred to Mr. Fitzwilliam as Robert because he is also my brother by marriage. He and my younger sister Kate wed this past winter.”
Mr. Elton smiled widely at her, his face rendered uncommonly handsome. “It is funny, is it not, Miss Bennet, what a small world we live in? How delighted I am to see that we are connected ourselves, after a fashion. Your brother-in-law is a very dear friend of mine, and your former brother-in-law, as well. I understand he passed away last summer, my heartfelt condolences.”
Again Mary felt it best to hold her tongue, as she certainly would not wish to disparage the dead, nor diminish Mr. Elton’s esteem for his former colleague. When she made no reply beyond a courteous nod of her head, Mr. Elton continued, “What think you of Lady Catherine de Bourgh? Or perhaps Lady Catherine Sutton, as she is now called. I read of her recent marriage in the papers – most astonishing!”
“She has been exceedingly kind to my family,” Mary replied cautiously.
“Of course, of course,” Mr. Elton replied, though Mary suspected he wished to contradict her. She could not imagine why Lady Catherine would not wish to retain the services of such an amiable gentleman as her parson, but she was thankful that her ladyship’s loss was her gain, for he promised to be an affable companion indeed.
“I was – I was quite intimidated by her ladyship, when first we met,” Mary admitted, “but the more I come to know her, the more I esteem her. She has a great affection for her family, all of whom are very dear to me.”
“Wonderfully spoken,” Mr. Elton replied. “That is just what I would say, as well; she is certainly the sort of woman who has the highest regard for her family, as is right and proper. And how surprised I was to discover that she is actually the mother of Highbury’s own Harriet Smith!”
Here Miss Bates interrupted. “Oh, do tell me, Miss Bennet, how does our dear Harriet get on in London? I understand Miss Woodhouse has had a letter from her only yesterday, and I believe she had meant to read it to us this morning, only she was obliged to go and rest, as she was overcome with quite a tremendous headache shortly after we arrived. Poor Miss Woodhouse, I know she feels the loss of her friend most keenly, but it must be such a great comfort for her to know that Harriet is well settled now. She herself predicted it, six months ago, when first she took notice of Miss Smith. She must have seen something that we did not in Miss Smith, she felt it instinctively that Miss Smith was destined for greatness, and now I suppose she has attained it. Balls and parties every night, I imagine!”
“Something like that,” Mary replied, laughing gently. “Rebecca and I attended a ball in Miss Harriet’s honor only last evening. She seems very happy, and of course we are all happy for her. I can sympathize with her situation, for I was initially overpowered by the large family my sister married into; they are all of a rather strong personality, but very kind, very well-bred people, and they were certainly very welcoming to Miss Harriet. Lady Catherine is tremendously proud of her, and Sir Gerald, too.”
“A ball in her honor? How lovely,” Miss Bates crooned. “Does that not sound lovely, Jane?”
“Oh yes, very lovely,” Miss Fairfax softly echoed her aunt. She gave Mary an apologetic look. “I had not the opportunity to meet the famous Miss Smith, as it has been quite some time since my last visit to Highbury, but I hear she is a dear, sweet girl indeed.”
“All this talk of London – I begin to grow quite jealous,” Mr. Elton replied with a chuckle. “I wish I might discover some distant relation of considerable means in London, and embark on a journey of pleasure myself! Tell me, Miss Bennet, were you not loath to leave the amusements of London behind? I think you must be a lesson in forbearance indeed, to sacrifice such ample diversions and come amongst us here instead.”
Mary hardly knew how to respond. In truth, London had been fun for a time, when first they had arrived. And yet, how quickly it had lost its luster, once the whispers about Georgiana began. It had been a sobering reminder of just what this society was like, that she had been striving to find her way in. Ultimately, she had been just as eager to leave it behind as she had once been to assimilate into it.
“I will only say this,” said she, “I can certainly understand its allure for so many fine ladies and gentlemen, but I should hardly think well of myself if I were to care only for my own amusement. At any rate, I spent most of my life in country society such as this, and I hardly think it a punishment to return to a more pastoral lifestyle. I hope to see more of Highbury soon, and I am sure it will remind me of my own village, Meryton, where I spent so many happy years.”
“Meryton!,” Miss Bates exclaimed. “Oh my goodness, yes, I had quite forgot, but of course Mr. Knightley told us, though I did not pay any heed at the time, but of course his friend Mr. Martin, Mr. Robert Martin, from Abbey Mill Farm, moved to Meryton, after inheriting an estate there. It was your family’s estate, if I am not much mistaken, was it not? What another happy coincidence!”
Mary laughed nervously. She, too, had forgotten the connection. “Yes, you are correct. Mr. Knightley introduced Mr. Martin to us last autumn, as my uncle had gone to great lengths to uncover the heir to our family home, which was unfortunately entailed away. I have to say, however, that the timing was certainly fortuitous for everyone. Most of my family had quit the place, anyhow, what with two of my sisters marrying around that time. Mr. Martin and his mother and sisters came to us at Christmas, for we were all gone to my brother Mr. Darcy’s estate in Derbyshire – Pemberley, perhaps you have h
eard of it?”
“I am sure it must be a very fine house, indeed,” Miss Bates said, “particularly if I have never heard of it! I am sure I have never been anywhere of any great importance in the world, nor moved in such elevated circles of society, as you have, and now Miss Smith, and of course Lady Rebecca, too. My, what a fine thing for Highbury to suddenly acquire so many fashionable people here amongst us! And a fine thing for Mr. Martin, too, to find such a ready welcome from his new relations, however distant. I understand Harriet had a letter from Mr. Martin’s sisters not long before she went away, and I hear they are all very well settled at Longmont. So many unexpected tidings for all of us here in Highbury. Next thing you know,” she said with an affable titter, “perhaps I shall discover that I, too, am an heiress, or dear Jane here, and we should be curtseying before the queen before you know it!”
“Longbourn,” Mary instinctively corrected the kindly older woman. “Yes, we are very happy for Mr. Martin, for he has lately become engaged to one of my childhood friends, and I believe they shall do well together.”
Mr. Elton gave her another charming smile, and moved a little closer to her on the sofa, seizing her hand in his own. “Miss Mary Bennet here, I daresay, is a harbinger of good tidings for everyone. I am quite sure of it. Yes, I look upon your arrival quite as an omen that wonderful things are in store for all of us. Mr. Robert Martin has had his share of good fortune, and little Miss Smith. I wonder,” said he, gazing into her eyes, “which of us shall next feel their share of fate’s benevolence.”
Mary blushed as Mr. Elton released her hand, but continued gazing upon her with a cheerful smile. He was far more handsome than a clergyman had any right to be, in her opinion, and with all of his talk of fate’s benevolence, she could not but wonder what manner of sermons he might be expected to give.