The Companion

by Jann Rowland

  They made small talk in the sitting-room—or rather Mr. Collins spoke in his usual capacious manner, giving the waiting ladies his regrets for the loss they had recently suffered and his surety that they would soon be blessed with another woman who would fill the recently departed Mrs. Jenkinson’s shoes admirably. The whole time they were in the sitting-room, and then after at dinner, Mr. Collins kept up his monologue, and though Elizabeth regarded the man with some asperity, she endeavored to keeper her conversation with Charlotte firmly in mind and avoid thinking poorly of him.

  This all changed after dinner. Lady Catherine led them back to the music room that evening, and she directed Elizabeth to play for them, which Elizabeth obliged, knowing that it was not a request. For some time, Lady Catherine sat listening to her play, not responding to Mr. Collins’s continued blandishments. It was only after Elizabeth had sat at the pianoforte for some time that the lady seemed to have enough of it and beckoned her forward.

  “Miss Bennet,” said she, “I have a matter of which I would like to speak to you. You will accompany me to the sitting-room.”

  Though shocked, Elizabeth could not think of a reason why she would not oblige Lady Catherine, and she agreed. She met the Collinses’ eyes before she left, and though Mr. Collins was mute with astonishment, Charlotte gazed at her, a question in her look. Elizabeth could only shake her head in response—she had no idea what Lady Catherine would want with her.

  The lady led her to the sitting-room where she took her usual high-backed chair, motioning Elizabeth to sit on a sofa nearby. But though Elizabeth expected to discover what the lady wished with her, Lady Catherine was silent for a full five minutes, studying every aspect of Elizabeth. Knowing the lady’s temper, Elizabeth forced herself to remain silent, waiting for her pleasure.

  She was just beginning to become cross when Lady Catherine spoke. “You must wonder why I have asked you here, Miss Bennet. It is not surprising, I suppose, as one of your background cannot imagine that such a boon as this would come to you.”

  “I apologize, Lady Catherine, but I am at a loss. To what do you refer?”

  Lady Catherine only favored her with an airy wave. “All will become apparent in time.” The lady’s brows furrowed in thought. “I have observed you the times you have been in my company, Miss Bennet, and I have not failed to take your likeness. To wit, it is clear you are an intelligent, useful sort of person, one who understands her place in society, yet you show a distressing penchant for speaking your opinions in a forthright manner when you had best remain silent. Though I cannot in good conscience approve of your education and the lack of a governess, you have still managed to educate yourself in a manner which can only be termed extraordinary.”

  “Thank you, Lady Catherine,” replied Elizabeth, though she was not at all certain that she should be thankful for such tepid praise.

  “Of course,” continued the lady, her tone offhand, “once you are elevated, I will expect you to curb your outspokenness and your wild ways, your tendency to walk more than is proper, and your excessive wit.”

  Mystified, though a little annoyed, Elizabeth held her temper in check and answered the lady evenly. “I am sorry I have provoked such a poor opinion, Lady Catherine, but I cannot imagine altering myself and giving up those things in which I take pleasure.”

  “Of course, you must,” replied the lady. “I could never treat with someone in my own house who subscribes to such things. I require a proper, demure sort of person, and if I cannot find one, I shall be required to take that which I can find in hand and alter her.”

  “I am afraid I do not know of what you speak. Might I ask you to be more explicit?”

  “Why, I have decided that you shall be Anne’s companion. Thus, I require certain concessions from you in return for favoring you with this excellent opportunity.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You shall listen to what I say, Miss Bennet!” exclaimed the lady. “I will not tolerate such inattentiveness as this when I am speaking. Let this be your first lesson.”

  “Lady Catherine,” said Elizabeth, struggling to hold her temper in check, “as you have not deigned to explain precisely what you would have of me, I am forced to attempt to decipher your purpose from your words. Am I to understand that you intend me to be Miss de Bourgh's companion?”

  “Of course! I am forced to reconsider my words concerning your intelligence, if you cannot understand so simple a matter.”

  “I am at a loss to understand why you would want me, of all people, to serve in this capacity. Have I ever given you any reason to suppose I am seeking a position?”

  “That is beside the point, Miss Bennet.”

  “That is precisely the point! Had you asked me before you requested I attend you, I would have informed you that I have no intention of seeking a position. I cannot imagine what madness has led you to this application.”

  “Miss Bennet,” said Lady Catherine, her manner full of exaggerated patience, “my daughter requires a companion, and I have been unable to procure one. You are tolerably intelligent and accomplished, your manners are passable, and you do not appear to be doing anything better with your time. It seems fortunate that you are present at this time when the need has come upon us.”

  “With the exception that I am not seeking a position.”

  Lady Catherine huffed and closed her eyes, visibly composing herself. When she opened them again, it was to pierce Elizabeth with her stare, her annoyance written upon her brow. “I have not been in the habit of being spoken to in such a way, Miss Bennet. Unfortunately, Anne has predicted your reaction with exactness, and though I have difficulty understanding your reticence—you, a woman with little dowry, little to recommend her, and almost no chance of eliciting a proposal from any man—I must congratulate my daughter for her foresight. If you are offended by my offer, in spite of these things, it need not be a permanent appointment. You may act as my daughter's companion until I am able to find a suitable replacement.”

  “And when might that be?” asked Elizabeth, wondering why she was even allowing the lady this much.

  “I do not know,” was the lady's surprising admission. “I have exhausted the possibilities in the extended neighborhood and even some who have responded to my posting in the London papers. I shall be forced to range further afield for a suitable woman.”

  “I see,” replied Elizabeth. Though she made no further comment, her mind was working furiously, trying to determine how she could possibly refuse this ridiculous request without offending the lady. Under normal circumstances she would not even have concerned herself that much, but Lady Catherine had a great deal of influence in Charlotte's life, and Elizabeth would not make her friend's life more difficult.

  “What say you, Miss Bennet?” asked Lady Catherine, impatience coloring her voice. “If you are concerned about my application, perhaps I should inform you that you will receive a very generous stipend.”

  “Absolutely not,” replied Elizabeth firmly. “I am not a paid companion, and if I do choose to act as your daughter's companion, I will do it as a gesture of friendship and nothing more.”

  The lady's countenance softened at Elizabeth's declaration. “Then do we have an agreement?”

  Though everything rebelled against what she was certain would be demeaning circumstances, Elizabeth voiced her agreement. “But only until you find a permanent companion or the time to return home is upon me. And I will be Miss de Bourgh's friend, not her nursemaid. This means I will not give up those things that I love. I will continue as I ever have, in addition to providing companionship to your daughter and attending to her. I must have my own time, Lady Catherine, and if I walk or read a book during those times, it is my own concern.”

  It seemed to Elizabeth like Lady Catherine was about to object to her conditions, for she opened her mouth to speak. Then she checked herself, grimaced, and withdrew to gather her wits about her.

  “Done then.”<
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  Chapter II

  Elizabeth left Rosings Park that evening, wondering what had possessed her to agree to Lady Catherine’s ridiculous demands. The lady had graciously allowed her to return to the parsonage for the night to gather her belongings, but she had demanded Elizabeth return on the morrow to receive instruction. Of what such instruction consisted, Elizabeth could not imagine, but she was already annoyed at them, as she was dismayed at the prospect of returning to Rosings.

  In all truth, she was dreading everything about this sorry situation. Lady Catherine, Elizabeth knew, would be a harsh taskmistress, conveniently forgetting that Elizabeth was not her paid employee and could not be ordered as if she were, and she fully expected to be required to remind her ladyship several times before she understood, if such understanding should ever come at all. Furthermore, in Miss de Bourgh, Elizabeth had no confidence—the woman was quiet and irritable, and though she had not visibly terrorized Mrs. Jenkinson, Elizabeth assumed that was because the companion had become accustomed to indulging her every whim before being asked. It would be an unpleasant month, Elizabeth was certain.

  And how would she tell Charlotte? She had come to Kent at Charlotte’s invitation to spend time with her closest friend, and now she was to remove to Rosings to play nursemaid to a spoiled, entitled girl in a woman’s body. Elizabeth knew her assessment of Miss de Bourgh was harsh, but she had not seen anything from her to disprove it.

  With these thoughts shuffling through her mind, Elizabeth passed the short carriage ride to the parsonage, and since Mr. Collins, as was his wont, monopolized the conversation, Elizabeth was able to pass it quietly without raising any questions. Even so, she saw Charlotte watching her, and if her friend’s scrutiny was any guide, Elizabeth realized she suspected something had happened.

  As Elizabeth had expected, Charlotte joined her in her room later that evening after the rest of the party had retired. Elizabeth was sitting on her bed, looking at the far wall with its delicate flowers and swirling contours of the wallpaper, by the flickering light of the candle, thinking of just what she had agreed to when the knock on the door startled her from her reverie.

  “Come in,” called she, drawing her robe around her like a shield.

  When the door was opened, Charlotte slipped into the room as expected. “Lizzy,” said she, approaching the bed, “I wished to speak with you. It seemed to me that something happened tonight when you spoke with Lady Catherine, and I would like to make certain nothing untoward has occurred.”

  Feeling all the amusement of the situation, Elizabeth said: “Oh? Do you not trust your patroness’s good behavior?”

  “Let us simply say that I have a healthy respect for Lady Catherine’s ability to offend without even trying.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Ah, yes, of course. In this she resembles her nephew quite closely, though at least with Mr. Darcy, he makes his comments in a crowded ballroom where no one can overhear. By contrast, Lady Catherine has no compunction about pointing out every fault with a frankness she no doubt considers an asset, and in front of everyone else, no less.”

  “Did she do so tonight, Lizzy?” asked Charlotte. “Was that why she asked to speak with you privately? Mr. Collins is beside himself at the thought that you might have upset Lady Catherine. He would not retire until I promised to discover the matter and inform him on the morrow. He wished to storm the walls of your bedchamber himself.”

  This time Elizabeth’s laugh contained more of a bitter quality. “Then Mr. Collins may rest easy, for though Lady Catherine did criticize, it was more of her usual fare than anything specific. In fact, I believe Mr. Collins will be pleased when he hears the subject of our discourse.”

  “And what was it, Lizzy?”

  It was clear Charlotte was becoming impatient with Elizabeth’s obfuscation, so she decided it was time to stop stalling. “I have been singled out for the honor of being companion to Miss de Bourgh.”

  There likely was not anything Elizabeth could have said which would have astonished Charlotte more. She gaped at Elizabeth for a moment before blurting: “Companion?”

  “Yes. At first Lady Catherine was determined that I required a position, for I have no money, no prospects, and no chance of receiving a proposal from any man. It was only after I insisted that I was not about to take the position she was so generously offering that she grudgingly agreed that I should act as Miss de Bourgh’s companion only as long as I am to be here, if she is not able to find a replacement before.”

  “I am at a loss, Lizzy,” replied Charlotte, her eyes as wide as saucers. “I could never have imagined such an application.”

  “Nor could I.”

  “Excuse me for my impertinence, but why did you accept?”

  Elizabeth sighed and pushed herself back on the bed until she was resting against the headboard, her knees bent and her arms around her legs, which she pressed up against her chest.

  “I hardly know. My first thought was to refuse and to reject any further application. Lady Catherine, however, was much like your husband when I rejected Mr. Collins’s suit last autumn: I would have been forced to tell her several times.”

  Charlotte’s countenance darkened, but Elizabeth only shook her head. “I do not make sport at Mr. Collins’s expense. That is exactly what happened. Regardless, it may have been the prospect of having to refuse the lady over and over, or it might have been some misplaced pity for Miss de Bourgh, who is forced to live with her mother and endure a nursemaid when she is old enough to fend for herself. I know not, Charlotte, so it will do little good to further importune me on the subject.

  “What I do know is this: though I find it difficult to understand Miss de Bourgh and I have little hope the next month will be in any way agreeable, at least she will have someone with her who will not jump every time Lady Catherine opens her mouth. Mayhap she will acquire a hint of independence. Heaven knows, it would do her a world of good.”

  The look Charlotte directed at her suggested she did not quite agree with Elizabeth’s assertion, but she decided it was not worth pressing her over. “You do expect Lady Catherine to find a replacement in the next month, then?”

  “I know not and I care not,” replied Elizabeth. “My mind will not be altered—I shall return to Hertfordshire as planned and will not be moved, whether Lady Catherine has found a replacement or not. I have already told her this. If she does not believe me, then that is her concern. I am certain that Lady Catherine may act as her daughter’s companion if need be.”

  Charlotte snorted with sudden laughter. “I cannot imagine such a thing. She would need someone to order about, and she can hardly do that to herself.”

  This time Elizabeth joined her friend in laughter. “I dare say she could not! But if she tries me, that is what will happen.”

  With a nod, Charlotte rose. “Then I shall inform Mr. Collins that Lady Catherine was not displeased with you and allow you the pleasure of informing him of your new position yourself.

  “No, you need not thank me,” said Charlotte, fighting a grin as she moved to the door. “I am certain he will find it as fascinating as I have.”

  She opened the door and started to depart, but before she did, she turned back and fixed Elizabeth with a serious look. “I only hope you know what you are doing, Lizzy.”

  Then she was gone, leaving Elizabeth by herself.

  “So do I,” said Elizabeth to the empty room.

  Mr. Collins was as surprised as his wife when Elizabeth informed him of her new position. For a full minute after she made the communication, he stared at her, likely wondering if she was attempting to mislead him. How Elizabeth wished it were true!

  Then, of course, the inanities started. “Companion to Miss de Bourgh? What an honor has come your way, Cousin. I could never have imagined Lady Catherine would think to bestow such a boon on my own poor cousin. You are to be greatly envied, for who would not wish to be so singled out?”

  I would not wi
sh to be so singled out, thought Elizabeth. If you are so certain it is an honor, perhaps you would prefer that it was bestowed upon you!

  Out loud, she only attempted to correct Mr. Collins. “It is only until I return to Hertfordshire, Mr. Collins. As Lady Catherine has had difficulty locating a woman of her preference, I have agreed to assist, but only until I am to return to my father’s house.”

  Her cousin was silent for several moments, and Elizabeth watched him, noting a sudden annoyance which seemed to spring up in his mien. Perhaps he would prefer that she would be nothing more than a servant—he might think it sufficient punishment for the temerity she had possessed to refuse his generous offer of marriage. Whatever it was, it soon disappeared, replaced by a sage nod.

  “Yes, that is probably for the best, though I do wonder if it might be better for your future to be secured in so advantageous a position. Nevertheless, it is still a mark of distinction that Lady Catherine respects you enough to entrust you with the wellbeing of her only daughter. The lady’s condescension is boundless, and her wisdom, vast, so I must agree with her ladyship and charge you to do your best to discharge your duties with faithful respect for her ladyship.

  “Thank you, Mr. Collins,” said Elizabeth, her patience almost exhausted at the man’s continued blathering. “I have no intention of doing anything other than attending Miss de Bourgh to the best of my abilities.”

  Mr. Collins nodded as if she had said something particularly profound, but he was not finished speaking on the subject. The rest of the morning meal was spent listening to his droning voice, alternately praising Lady Catherine and, by extension, Miss de Bourgh, and admonishing her not to embarrass him by behaving in any manner other than that Lady Catherine would find pleasing. By the time she left the breakfast table, Elizabeth was almost happy she was to be leaving this place behind. If nothing else, at least she would not be required to endure Mr. Collins! Then again, she would be trading his brand of civility for Lady Catherine’s arrogant meddling, so she was not certain she was emerging the victor in the exchange.