by Jayne Bamber
Staring back at Mr. Elton, Mary felt herself giggling more coquettishly than she had ever done before. “Good Heavens, sir, I think you will have me laying hands on the sick and blessing the farmers’ crops ere long. I cannot promise to be a bringer of miracles, nor am I likely to raise anyone’s fortunes while I am here, but I will certainly do my best to make myself agreeable.”
“A promise,” Mr. Elton breathed, raising a hand to his heart, “you are certain of keeping with very little effort, I am sure. I can see it already, your mere presence is like a ray of light shining down on us, for you have the very spirit of grace and generosity that one would expect in a lady who had left behind the pleasures of London to condole with a family struck by tragedy.”
Mary began to grow embarrassed at Mr. Elton‘s continued effusions; she had never known herself to inspire such eloquence in any man, particularly not one so attractive. Though he seemed to be a sensible man, she supposed that if she were more like Elizabeth, she would be already concluding that he was out of his wits to be making love to her upon first acquaintance in such a way, but Mary was not at all like Elizabeth, and could hardly balk at a man like Mr. Elton for paying her such complimentary addresses. She rather enjoyed it.
Miss Bates, who must surely be well acquainted with him indeed, certainly found nothing to object to in his behavior, and only looked on with a smile of contentment. “I cannot help but be perhaps just a little bit selfish,” said she with a bashful smile. “I will own I am very much pleased that there are now some other young ladies here in Highbury, if only for dear Jane’s sake. I do hope you and Lady Rebecca will be so kind as to visit us, whenever you are able, though we have but a snug little house in the village. It is a good little house, I am sure, and we do love having visitors come whenever our friends are able to stop in and bid us good day in the village. What joy that brings us, and my poor mother too. She is something of an invalid, and is not much able to leave home, except on short morning visits, and of course Mr. Woodhouse was always very kind about inviting her to dinner, but I think she should be very delighted to have you and Lady Rebecca call on us one morning, I am sure she would like that above anything.”
Jane blushed, and merely agreed that she should like to come to know Mary and Lady Rebecca better.
Mary smiled warmly at the timid girl. Miss Bates seemed a very amiable woman, who, despite her tendency to babble, appeared only to have the best of intentions, and saw nothing but good in everyone she encountered. She was so inclined to speak on her niece’s behalf that there was very little left for Miss Fairfax to say herself. The girl reminded her somewhat of Georgiana Darcy, who was also very shy, and so often in company with a great many women far more gregarious than she. Georgiana seemed quite content to let others speak for her, rather than speaking for herself, and Mary could not but wonder whether Miss Fairfax felt the same. She decided she would like very much to know the young lady better, and determined at once to see if she might be able to draw her out.
“I understand you have been traveling for many months, Miss Fairfax,” Mary prompted.
Miss Fairfax gave a little nod, and blushed again. “Yes, indeed.”
“Oh yes, my dear Jane is a great traveler, I am sure,” Miss Bates exclaimed. “How fortunate for all of us that dear Colonel Campbell took such an interest in her, when she was still a girl, for they have gone on a great many adventures together, I daresay. He has a daughter of his own, Miss Campbell, who is just the same age as Jane, and how famously they have gone on together all these years. I think they are both very fortunate to have one another, and of course now Miss Campbell is to be wed, and go off to Ireland with Mr. Dixon, and Jane is come home at last. How happy my mother and I are to have her back, even if it is only for a little while.”
“Only for a little while?” Mary hoped to prompt some reply from Miss Fairfax herself. “Are you planning another adventure in the near future?”
“Oh,” Miss Bates replied, her face looking a little pained. “It is only that – that is, Jane….”
“It is all right, Aunt,” Miss Fairfax said. “I mean to become a governess, Miss Bennet. I cannot trespass on Colonel and Mrs. Campbell’s kindness forever. I shall enjoy a few months yet with my family here in Highbury, but I hope by this summer to have found a position as governess with a respectable family.”
Miss Bates frowned, clearly disliking the idea of losing her niece to a life of servitude, and Mary could scarcely blame her. This notion rather hit close to home for her, as Mary had long considered the possibility, before her sisters’ illustrious marriages, that she, too, might someday become a governess, as she did not think it likely that she herself would ever wed.
“But it must be a very fine thing, indeed,” she said to Miss Fairfax with a reassuring smile, “to think of what good you could do in the world. Governesses shape the hearts and minds alike of young children at an impressionable age. I think it a fine calling indeed. It is not much different from Mr. Elton here, I think. In his case, he speaks from the pulpit, and addresses our souls, rather than our minds, whereas a governess speaks from the classroom, to one’s intellect, and both governess and vicar speak from a position of superior knowledge, guiding their charges into what may perhaps grow into a lifetime of study. Therefore, I daresay you are greatly to be admired for devoting your life to such a higher purpose, for our minds are in no less need of information than our souls are of saving, would you not agree, Mr. Elton?”
All three of Mary’s new friends gazed at her in momentary astonishment, and Mary really began to wonder if she sounded positively ridiculous, but she saw nothing shocking about her convictions.
Mr. Elton was the first to reply, moving closer to her still, and seizing her hand once more. “Philanthropist and poet alike, I think,” he said, raising her hand to his lips to kiss it gently. He clasped her hand in both of his own for a moment longer before releasing it. “How well put, how absolutely beautifully said, indeed, Miss Bennet. Such eloquence, such absolute truth. I would heartily agree that you have identified a divine truth in the human condition, Miss Bennet, for indeed the human spirit wants the word of God no less than the human mind wants to bask in the word of our fellow man. Vicar and governess alike, yes indeed, we shed light on the divine, each in our own way. How wise of you to have seen it.”
Mary looked away, hiding a blush at his heavy praise. She braved a glance back at Miss Fairfax, who looked somewhat bewildered by the tone of conversation. “Miss Bennet, that was very poetic indeed. You flatter me, I think, but I hope I shall do as you say, in inspiring my young charges, if I am fortunate enough to find a suitable position.”
“Oh, it does sound like a very fine thing indeed,” Miss Bates agreed, “when you put it like that, Miss Bennet, though I am afraid I am still selfishly inclined to wish Jane did not have to leave us, even if it is to inspire others with the glories of education and accomplishment. And how accomplished Jane is herself! Why, she plays the pianoforte so beautifully, and is a great reader, as well. Why, a few summers past, she made a great reading list of one hundred titles – one hundred! And she read the whole list. Scott and Milton, Wordsworth and Keats, and Chaucer and Shakespeare, too, I think. Yes, I daresay she should make a very well-qualified governess. If only she did not have to leave us! Pray, are you a great reader as well, Miss Bennet? I think you must like poetry, to speak as you do.”
“A little,” Mary replied. She had always favored tomes of an ecclesiastical nature, though Rebecca’s first order of business when Mary had come to Pemberley was to unceremoniously toss both of Mary’s copies of Fordyce into the fire, and hand her a copy of Mary Wollstonecraft instead. She had liked it more than she would wish to admit amongst such new acquaintances, and made a much safer reply instead. “My older sister Lizzy is the great reader of the family. I do enjoy playing the pianoforte – perhaps we might learn a duet before you leave Highbury, Miss Fairfax.”
“Oh yes, you must,” exclaimed Mr. Elton. “If you play wit
h any of the feeling with which you have expressed yourself here today, I am sure I should like to listen to you above anything. Yes, you must make it your mission to learn a duet and perform for us all. Only think of what comfort it must give Miss Woodhouse, for you to play and sing, and lift her spirits thus. I have heard it said that music is the food of the soul.”
“I should like that very much,” Miss Fairfax replied simply, less prone to rhapsodizing than their other two companions.
“I shall count down the days until I am fortunate enough to hear you both perform together for us all,” Mr. Elton said with feeling, and a moment later they were joined by Mrs. Weston, as well as Rebecca and her cousin Emma.
Mary and Miss Woodhouse were introduced, and the latter looked surprised to find her visitors still present, despite her long absence above stairs with Rebecca. Miss Bates seemed to feel it, and began suggesting that she and Jane must take their leave, but would call again later in the week. With their departure, Mr. Elton was similarly obliged to depart, though with a great deal of complimentary reluctance at parting from his new friends. Once the three women were alone in the drawing room, Miss Woodhouse leaned back heavily against one of the sofas and breathed a sigh of relief. “Good Heavens, how glad I am they are gone at last!”
12
Kent, late March
As the carriage turned from the main road onto a smaller track that would lead them to Rosings, Lydia glanced backward out the window as five of the six riders behind them turned their horses to the other path, which led to Cranbrook. With only Robert Fitzwilliam riding alongside the two carriages bound for Rosings Park, Lydia heaved a great sigh and slumped backwards against the seat beside Caroline.
Caroline nudged her young companion. “You should take in some of the scenery, my dear.”
“I was taking in the scenery, but all of the gentlemen worth looking at have gone the other way!”
Repressing the impulse to laugh – for she really agreed – Caroline replied, “You ought to have brought a book to occupy yourself, as I have. Then you would not be so restless.”
Lydia screwed up her face. “I thought we came to Kent for amusement, not more dull lessons!”
“Of course our trip is to be an amusing one, but that does not mean your lessons are over. You have a great deal yet to learn, and I will not let your obsession with handsome gentlemen distract you.”
Lydia sighed heavily. “But what is the point of all this learning if I am not to find myself a husband?”
“And how do you propose to find yourself a husband if you insist on remaining so pig-headed and ignorant,” Caroline retorted.
Lydia folded her arms and leaned back against her seat. “No matter, I suppose I shall see them all soon enough, anyhow. Kate told me that my cousin Emily is planning a grand dinner for us tonight at Cranbrook, and then I shall see all the gentlemen!”
“Indeed you will not,” Caroline replied. “We are not attending the dinner at Cranbrook tonight. You and I shall remain at Rosings. I shall inform your sister that I am greatly fatigued from the journey, and am not feeling well enough to attend. You will very generously and selflessly offer to remain at Rosings and attend me.”
“What,” Lydia burst. “I shall do no such thing!”
“Oh yes, you shall, or you needn’t bother unpack your trunks, for you shall be sent directly back to London first thing in the morning!”
“It’s not fair,” Lydia whined. “I will not do it. Fake sick if you like, but I will go to Cranbrook!”
Caroline gritted her teeth. “So help me God, Lydia, I will turn this coach around right now and make straight back for London to deliver you back to your sister, and let her ship you off to God-knows-where!”
“You may as well,” Lydia snapped, “if I am not to have the pleasure of dining in the company of so many gentlemen while we are in Kent. You said I should find a husband while I am here in the country, and I do not see how I shall do any such thing if you keep me locked away with you, while Harriet and Georgiana get to flirt with all the gentlemen!”
“Stupid girl,” Caroline sighed with no little vexation. “Of course I mean to have you married. I dare say I can accomplish it in six weeks, if only you would cooperate with me. This is merely the first step in my plan – I shall not deprive you of the gentlemen’s company forever. Just for tonight.”
“But why?”
Caroline glared out the carriage window as they rounded the bend that brought Rosings Park into view. “I will tell you why, but first you must tell me something. Look at that house there.” Caroline jabbed her finger against the window pane, pointing to the grand manor they were approaching. “Your sister is mistress of that house! How do you think she got there? Do you think she accomplished it through whining and sulking and flaunting her ill-bred manners for all the world to see?”
“No,” Lydia snapped back. “Lady Catherine brought her here as her ward last summer.”
“Exactly,” Caroline replied. “Your sister was wise enough to trust her fate to better women, and now she is mistress of all this.”
Lydia gave a heavy sigh, still glowering at Caroline from across the carriage. “So what would you have me do, then?”
“Obey my commands without argument, first of all,” Caroline quipped. “I shall explain my plan this evening, while the others are dining at Cranbrook. We have not the time to discuss it now, for we are nearly arrived. When we alight from the carriage, I will plead a headache and take to my room directly. Your sister will no doubt wish to give you a tour of her home – you may go through the house with her, making all the acceptable comments of praise, but you must act natural and poised – no unseemly remarks! So long as your sister is smiling, you may say what comes to mind, but let the other girls be your guide – say nothing inappropriate, nothing that Harriet or Georgiana would not say. Remember that Harriet is to have the greater share of astonishment, for this family gathering is in her honor. After you have seen the house, you shall exemplify the very spirit of tender-hearted generosity, and let everyone behold your kindness in offering to attend me as I recover. Do you understand?”
Lydia seemed to consider for a moment, before slowly nodding. “And everyone will think it very kind of me to sacrifice my share of the amusement and stay here with you, while they all go off to Cranbrook?”
“Exactly so,” Caroline replied. She had not the time to say more, as they were making their way up the gravel drive that led to Rosings Park. Caroline schooled her countenance into one of tremendous fatigue, easy enough after any conversation with Lydia Bennet.
In truth, Caroline had every reason to avoid Cranbrook. She was uncomfortable at the idea of visiting her husband’s home while his absence from their family party grew increasingly difficult to explain. She felt herself something of an impostor even being in the neighborhood, and despite her desire to move in such elevated company, she had spent nearly the whole journey there questioning the sanity of her plan. She had for many weeks now expected to hear word from the sanatorium in Dumfries where she had installed her husband, bearing news of his declining health, perhaps even his death. Jane had died so quickly of the illness she had passed on to Seymour, yet he lingered on, and Caroline grew impatient to divest herself of the burden of a husband whose illness could not be made known to the world.
She knew she must visit there ere long, but tonight she was determined to avoid Cranbrook. She consoled herself in the knowledge that she was a very clever woman indeed, and would use this first evening at Rosings to her best advantage, which could only be done in privacy, with Lydia.
Caroline retreated to her bedchamber as soon as she was politely able to do so, and a few hours later Lydia joined her. “Just as you said, Kate has shown me the house. I think you would be pleased, for I was very dutiful in paying every compliment I could.”
“What of the others? Was Lady Catherine with you, and Harriet and Georgiana?”
“Yes. Of course Georgiana has been to Rosings before, b
ut Harriet was very excited about everything. Often times any remark I made was drowned out by her excitement, so I decided to keep my mouth shut and let her do most of the talking.”
“Very good,” Caroline nodded. “As I have told you, it is of the utmost importance that you pursue a friendship with both Harriet and Georgiana. You did not say anything that would give anyone offense?”
Lydia rolled her eyes and threw herself down on Caroline’s fine featherbed. “No! I was perfectly proper, I promise. I watched Kate, and made sure she was smiling at me whenever I spoke. If she was not smiling, I stopped speaking.”
Caroline let out a sigh of relief as she sat down next to Lydia, kicking off her slippers and making herself comfortable. It was going to be rather a long evening, and at times lecturing Lydia could be rather taxing, but at least it seemed the girl was actually learning something.
“You have done well so far, I think,” Caroline replied. She always endeavored to infuse her lectures with praise wherever appropriate, rewarding Lydia’s good behavior with all the compliments the girl thrived upon, thus encouraging her to do better.
“If I have done so well,” Lydia retorted, “why am I being punished? I want to go to Cranbrook!”
“And so you shall – just not tonight.”
“Why not?”
Caroline inhaled and exhaled deeply, preparing to launch into a rather lengthy speech that she prayed dearly would stick. “As I told you before, dearest Lydia, tonight we shall formulate our plan of attack, so to speak. You wish to be married, do you not?”
“Yes,” Lydia said. “All the more reason I should go where the gentlemen are!”
“How many single gentlemen will be dining at Cranbrook tonight, Lydia?”