“And what news is that?” asked Mary, not really interested at all.
Lydia and Jessie Phillips giggled and exchanged glances again, and then Lydia, leaning forward, spoke in an exaggerated whisper, “Did you know, Charlotte, that your precious Mr Jonathan Bingley and your niece Miss Anna Faulkner are engaged? Indeed, their secret liaison has been going on for quite a while and nobody, not even Maria Faulkner, knew of it.”
Charlotte’s retort was sharp. “Don’t talk nonsense, Lydia. Shame on you! You should not repeat gossip and rumour. It is quite wrong.”
“Oh, you may choose not to believe it, if you wish, but I know it to be true. Indeed, if they are not engaged, then they must have some explaining to do, because I happen to know that Anna Faulkner and Jonathan Bingley both stayed at the Bingleys’ house in Grosvenor Street, not too long ago.”
Seeing Charlotte’s expression of disbelief, she said, “Now, Charlotte, don’t you scold me, this is not gossip or rumour, it is true. I have it from my sons Henry and Phillip, who saw them when they were visiting a friend in the same street. They saw Jonathan and a lady, whom they did not recognise at the time, arrive in a hansom cab and go into the Bingleys’ house together.
“Some time later, they saw Jonathan Bingley leave and return alone, but the woman remained in the house throughout. Now, when Henry was here over Easter, he saw Anna Faulkner twice in Meryton with her mother and knew at once that she was the woman they’d seen with Jonathan in Grosvenor Street.
“Henry says he has no doubts at all; indeed, on one occasion, she was wearing the same gown and hat as the woman in London. So, how do you explain that?” she asked defiantly, and when poor Charlotte, stunned, made no immediate reply, she went on, “Henry says it was quite clear that they were not mere acquaintances, he could tell by their manner. La, Jessie, would it not be fun if little Miss Goody Two-Shoes turns out to be not quite so innocent after all, eh?”
Charlotte’s patience was at an end. She exclaimed that she would hear no more and ordered Lydia to hold her tongue.
“For shame, Lydia, you of all people have no right to defame other young women in this way. I am sure there must be some perfectly reasonable explanation; I do know that Anna helped nurse Mr Bingley’s daughter, Anne-Marie, who was very ill, and it is quite likely she stayed with her at the Bingleys’ house in London.”
But Lydia was not so easily silenced.
Her outrage was expressed in a tirade against members of her family, many of whom had continued to help her and her feckless husband for years.
That neither Anna nor Jonathan had ever played any part in what she saw as her own humiliation was of no significance.
“Well, I hope there is an explanation, because if there is not, and they are not engaged, then everyone will want to know what is going on.”
“It is none of their business, Lydia, and you should tell them so,” snapped Charlotte, but undeterred, Lydia raved on.
“Well, it will serve them right, Jane and Lizzie and all those people who have been preaching at me for years. There’s Aunt Gardiner, too, she would go on and on at me as though I were some criminal.”
Her face red and angry, she was determined to have her say.
“Lizzie and Jane have been no better. Ever since Wickham and I were married, they have been looking down their noses at us whenever we meet, usually at weddings and funerals. Why, you’d think we had done something that no young couple had ever done before or since. Mr Darcy will not receive Wickham or my boys at Pemberley, indeed, he is so high and mighty, he pretends he has no connection with us at all. Mr Bingley is barely polite and Cassy Darcy and her precious husband sat next to me at Amelia-Jane’s funeral and said not a word!
“I am heartily sick and tired of them all. It would do them good to have a bit of scandal of their own, and I for one do not apologise for mentioning it,” she declared, and with that, she rose to her feet, marched out into the hall, twirled her parasol, and was gone in a flurry of flounces and frills, with Jessie Phillips following meekly in her wake.
Mary looked up and remarked that Lydia had always fancied herself in fussy gowns, but she thought they only made her look foolish.
“She is much too old for frills and flounces, anyway,” she said.
Charlotte was too upset to listen and said not a word for fully five minutes, and then she sighed and declared that she did not know why Lydia had become so vicious. Charlotte was well aware of the innumerable occasions on which both Jane and Elizabeth had helped Lydia pay her bills. She had received Elizabeth’s letter that very morning and, until the arrival of Lydia with her “news,” Charlotte had not been too perturbed by its contents. She had intended to approach Anna, in private, but only to ask her to beware of the local rumour mill. But now, the possibility of Lydia Wickham defaming her niece’s good name, and with it her chance of happiness, threw her into confusion.
Charlotte Collins had never had to face such a situation in her own life. A sensible woman before she married Canon Collins and a good wife and mother afterwards, she was at a loss to know what to do. But, forewarned, she was determined to do something to prevent a possible disaster.
***
As May Day dawned, preparations for the festival were going on apace in the village. Groups of dancers, buskers, fortune tellers, and itinerant performers jostled for space on the green, while the usual fairground attractions had been set up around the square.
Anna, who was on her way to Longbourn, decided to visit the fair to buy some preserves, which she knew her Aunt Collins favoured. She had almost completed her purchases and was about to get back in her little pony trap, when she caught sight of her aunt, who appeared to be in a state of some agitation.
Anna, moving quickly through the crowd, reached her aunt’s side, and was careful not to alarm her, taking her arm gently as she spoke.
“My dear Aunt, I did not know you wanted to come into Meryton today, else I would have called at the house for you,” she said, but Charlotte, all but ignoring her words, said in an urgent voice, “Anna, oh Anna, I am so glad to see you. I have already been to Haye Park and spoken with your mother, but it is you I wanted to see.”
Anna was astonished.
“To Haye Park?” she exclaimed. “My goodness, how did you get there?”
“My brother sent the carriage round for me,” Charlotte replied, “but it was required to return to Lucas Lodge, so when your mother told me you were coming down to the fair, I walked here hoping to find you.”
“Walked? My dear Aunt, you must be exhausted! Pray, tell me, why were you in such a hurry to find me? Has something happened? Is it Miss Bennet? Has she been taken ill?” she asked, concerned and surprised at her aunt’s actions.
Anna knew something was wrong. Her Aunt Collins was a sensible woman, who would not lightly leave her home to wander around the village in search of her niece unless she was seriously troubled. She pressed her for a reason and Charlotte replied that Mary Bennet was perfectly well.
“It has nothing to do with Mary, but there is a matter that concerns me very deeply, about which I wish to speak privately with you.”
Even more bewildered, Anna offered to drive her home either to Longbourn or to Haye Park, where they could talk.
“Not Haye Park, no, it would upset your mother. She must already be wondering at my arriving on her doorstep this morning. However, I did at least succeed in confirming one thing; I know that you and Jonathan Bingley are secretly engaged to be married. Anna, my dear, why did you not tell me?” she asked sadly, adding considerably to Anna’s confusion.
She realised that whatever her aunt’s concerns, they must have something to do with her and Jonathan; it was not possible to have a discussion about them standing in the roadway in the midst of the bustle of the May Day festivities. The parade would be getting ready to move off very soon, and she did not intend to be caught up in it
. She could already see the groups of young people in their bright costumes gathering in the square, and the Meryton band was tuning up rather noisily. Many people had come in to Meryton for the festival, attracted by the fine weather and the promise of fireworks at nightfall.
Eager to be gone, Anna urged her aunt into her vehicle and started off, taking the road that led in the direction of Oakham Mount, which was a fair distance away if one were walking, but a far less arduous undertaking when driving. Charlotte was so agitated she hardly noticed where they were going.
As they had no intention of attempting a walk to the summit of the mount, whose celebrated view of the surrounding country they had both seen on many occasions, they stopped in the meadows below and tethered the pony in the shade of an old spreading oak.
The day was already warm, and Anna was glad of the shade. She was keen to discover what had disturbed her usually imperturbable aunt.
“Now, Aunt Charlotte, tell me please, what is it that has been troubling you? Have you had some bad news?” she asked.
Charlotte, who loved her niece and wished only to protect her from the cruel gossip that Lydia was spreading around the district, could not hold back her tears as she blurted it out. Anna listened as her aunt told of the visit of Lydia Wickham and Jessie Phillips, her outrage at their insinuations increasing every moment.
Charlotte Collins was reluctant to speak of them.
“Anna, ordinarily, I would pay no attention at all to gossip of this sort. But these women are quite without scruple and will destroy your reputation and that of your family. They are neither respectable nor honest, but have sharp tongues that will spread their lies throughout the district. Jonathan will suffer, too,” she said. “Lydia, especially, has a particular grudge against Jonathan Bingley. She believes that Mr Bennet used her ill and treated her son unfairly when he left Longbourn to Jonathan. She has said as much to me, and I am ready to believe she, urged on by her husband, will do or say anything to damage him. In his position in public life, such a story may be used against him.”
Seeing Anna’s shocked expression, she added, “Please tell me, what plans have you and Mr Bingley made?”
Anna told her aunt the complete truth, apologising first for having caused her so much distress by keeping her in ignorance.
“My dear Aunt, I never dreamed we could become the target of wicked gossip. Jonathan has no enemies here, the Bingley family is well liked and respected, and I live quietly with my parents. I have simply been reluctant to let it appear that I was trying to secure an early engagement, even before a year had passed since Amelia-Jane’s death. I truly believed it was right to wait. If we had anticipated anything like this, we might have acted differently,” she explained.
Somewhat reassured, Charlotte then begged Anna to let her parents announce their engagement, immediately.
“Let it be done at once, Anna, make it known publicly, and if you plan to marry within the year, set a date for your wedding. Please do not let them destroy the happiness I know you both deserve.”
Anna embraced her aunt. She was grateful indeed for her concern and counsel. She resolved to take Mrs Collins home to Longbourn first, before deciding what she would do. On reaching Longbourn, she waited only a very short time, even refusing refreshment, before setting out again.
Anna had thought deeply about her aunt’s words and it had resulted in growing feelings of guilt about her own conduct. However unintended, if the consequences were to damage not only herself but her parents and Jonathan as well, she knew she would never forgive herself.
Even as she considered her own behaviour, she grew ashamed.
“How arrogant have I been, considering only my own wishes, never thinking how my decision might rebound on him or others in my family?” she thought, wretchedly blaming herself and hoping desperately that it was not already too late to reclaim the situation.
She had set out in the morning expecting to travel only as far as Longbourn, for which her little pony carriage had been quite adequate. However, it was, she decided, essential that she go on to see Jonathan, and there was no larger carriage available to her at Longbourn.
It was a little over three miles to Netherfield Park.
Meanwhile, at Netherfield, Jonathan had been contemplating the long Summer ahead. Anne-Marie would soon be returning to Harwood House and her work at the hospital, while young Cathy and Tess had been invited to join their grandparents at the Darcys’ farm, Woodlands.
He had no doubt that the invitation would have been extended to him too, except that it would have been assumed that he would prefer to remain in Hertfordshire with Anna.
He would, but the situation was far from simple. With all his daughters away, it would not be seemly for Anna to be visiting Netherfield alone. He was already aware of the quizzical glances of some of their neighbours at church and in the town. People who had known him for years appeared curious.
As for calling on Anna at Haye Park, it would present no problems, since Mrs Faulkner was hospitable and friendly and Dr Faulkner always made him welcome, but they would have very little time together on their own.
He yearned for the days they had spent in Kent, at Standish Park; walks in the woods, tea on the terrace, picnics by the river, it had been idyllic. And, it had helped them explore and express their feelings for each other.
But, being a practical and sensible man, as well as being in love, Jonathan knew that, idylls apart, if he wanted to avoid a long and unhappy Summer, he must persuade Anna to let her parents announce their engagement.
He understood and respected her reservations, but hoped to convince her that it was in their own interest to make it known that they planned to marry. They could then be seen together without causing undue comment and would no longer need to conceal their feelings from their families. It was a charade he was finding increasingly difficult to maintain, feigning indifference to a woman he passionately loved.
It was afternoon; the May festival would be in full swing. Everyone, including most of the servants at Netherfield, had gone into Meryton for the parade and fireworks. Cathy and Tess had gone too with their governess and Jonathan’s manager, Mr Bowles.
Except for Anne-Marie, who had shown no interest in the festival, Mrs Perrot, and a couple of her maids, who claimed they had too much to do, there was no one in the house.
Growing impatient, Jonathan went down to the stables, saddled up his horse, and set off for Haye Park.
It was a sultry afternoon, and by the time he reached his destination, he was tired. To his dismay, a servant informed him that Miss Faulkner had left some hours earlier, intending to visit the May fair before proceeding to Longbourn. He learned also that she had taken the pony trap and was alone. She was expected to return by dinner time, the maid said.
Disappointed, Jonathan rode back to Netherfield, stopping at Longbourn on his way, only to discover that neither Anna nor her aunt had returned from Meryton. None of the household knew where they were.
As he rode home, Jonathan noticed the darkening sky and clouds gathering on the horizon beyond Netherfield. The prospect of a Summer storm looked very real indeed.
He was anxious about both Anna and Charlotte. He had no idea where they might be. Since they were neither at Longbourn nor at Netherfield, he assumed they were still out on the road in a pony cart!
When Mrs Perrot brought him tea in the sitting room, he inquired if any of the servants had returned from Meryton.
“Tom’s back,” she said. “He said he didn’t want to catch his death getting soaked by the storm that’s coming.”
The gardener was sent for and asked if he had seen either Miss Faulkner or Mrs Collins at the fair. He recalled seeing Mrs Collins, he said, but that was quite early in the day, and no, he had seen nothing of Miss Faulkner.
The sound of a carriage in the drive took them to the door, but it turned out to be Tess and C
athy with their governess and Mr Bowles, arriving just minutes before the storm broke, with great claps of thunder and streaks of lightning, around the house. Rain fell in sheets, drenching everything, sending everyone scurrying to close the windows and draw the curtains.
Upstairs, Jonathan found Anne-Marie looking out of her window, complaining that she could see nothing beyond a few yards of the house.
“Papa, where could they be? Tess and Cathy saw neither of them in Meryton. What has become of them?”
She was fearful, and he comforted her.
“At least there is still light in the sky and Summer storms in this part of the country are, mercifully, short lived. When it abates, we can send out a search party. They may just be sheltering somewhere, out of the rain.”
Anne-Marie looked up at her father and seeing the anxious expression on his face, she was not convinced by his words.
Anna had left Longbourn noting the gathering storm in the distance.
The unusual build-up of heat through the day had become quite oppressive. It was the kind of weather in which a short, sharp shower of rain would be welcome, if one were not out in it, she thought, as she set out, taking a route she knew well, avoiding the main road between Meryton and Netherfield, which she judged might be busy with traffic from the fair.
Overhead, the clouds had begun to swirl around and gather in great greyish lumps, and very soon, much of the blue sky had been blotted out. So gloomy were her surroundings, it seemed much later than it was, but Anna had forgotten her watch and could not check the hour.
She was still a mile or so shy of Netherfield Park when the first drops of rain began to fall. At first, she drove on untroubled, pulling her cape around her and tying the ribbons of her bonnet more tightly.
The pony seemed not to be disturbed by the rain, but Anna was afraid the thunder and lightning might scare him into bolting. She kept him on a fairly tight rein and talked soothingly to him; as the storm broke, she became anxious and looked for some shelter, but there was none, for they had left the farm houses and cottages behind as they entered the woods around the Netherfield estate.
Netherfield Park Revisited Page 34