From Longbourn to Pemberley - Winter 1810-1811

by M-C Ranger

  And so, dear diary, this is the reason for your existence. Perhaps I shall be the first in a long line to recount my daily actions and thoughts. I shall commence in all seriousness tomorrow, and I have no doubt that it will be most enlightening.

  *****

  A few days before Christmas, Mrs. Philips held a small, congenial evening party during which several young officers had the pleasure of asking all the young ladies to dance. Among them, a new arrival, Miss Mary King, was the source of much whispering: it was said that she had inherited ten thousand pounds, which made her extremely handsome … or very ugly, all at the same time! During the party, Elizabeth took the opportunity to present George Wickham to her Aunt Gardiner, who had recently arrived from London. The former’s status had greatly increased since the departure of Mr. Darcy and the confidences he had made to Elizabeth were now known by everyone; the women in particular were most sympathetic to his cause. A poor young man who had been defrauded of the wealth owed to him and who did not proclaim his rights loudly for all to hear out of respect for the memory of his benefactor; one could not help but be moved by this display of humility. And thus he was invited to all the dinners, to all the evening-parties. Indeed! How could one have consorted with Mr. Darcy and neglected Mr. Wickham? This was therefore hastily remedied. However, the indiscretions that unfolded in public in the absence of the accused should have alerted anyone the least bit observant, starting with Elizabeth Bennet herself. But Christmas was quickly approaching, and nothing else was on anyone’s mind but receiving visitors and enjoying oneself. After all, were there not at least twenty-four families with whom one could exchange dinner invitations?!

  Mr. Gardiner was an intelligent man with elegant manners, infinitely superior to his sisters, Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Philips, both with regards to his natural predisposition and his education. Even the ladies of Netherfield would have had difficulty believing that a man who made his living through trade could be so amiable and so distinguished. They would have been equally surprised on meeting Mrs. Gardiner. Approximately ten years younger than Mrs. Bennet and the mother of four young children, she exhibited elegance on every level: as much with respect to manners as with respect to her remarks. The two eldest Bennet daughters had frequently stayed with the Gardiners, where they enjoyed a pleasant family atmosphere and affectionate advice bestowed with attentiveness; it is therefore understandable that Jane and Elizabeth had a genuine affection for them and were always overjoyed when they came to visit from London.

  Naturally, there was inevitable discussion between the sisters-in-law. Here is a sampling of their exchange, over a cup of tea:

  ‘I must attest, Madeline, that my nerves were unable to tolerate Lizzy’s attitude. How could she show so little feeling? I am still discomfited just thinking about it! And where did you find that beautiful lace?’

  ‘Come, Fanny, Elizabeth could not go against her sentiments, after all. In the end, it was about her future. Her intention was not to upset you, but…’

  ‘That’s what you believe,’ interrupted Mrs. Bennet. ‘I am of an entirely different opinion; if you only knew how she enjoys analysing people and giving her opinion of everyone. She said to Mr. Bennet, in my presence, that Mr. Collins was ridiculous and pompous… and now that he shall wed Charlotte Lucas, I believe that this is, indeed, the case. Where did you say you found this lace?’

  ‘If your husband felt it was wise to support Elizabeth’s decision, do you not think, Fanny, that he may have been right?’ continued Mrs. Gardiner, attempting to follow her sister-in-law’s rambling conversation.

  ‘Perhaps you are right. The fact remains that this little Lucas shall be the mistress of all this,’ Mrs. Bennet said, feeling sorry for herself and gesturing emphatically. ‘But I am charmed, Madeline, by what you told me about long sleeves… and I believe that you were presented to George Wickham, such a charming young man!’

  Yes, Madeline Gardiner had met George Wickham; her niece had presented him to her and, learning that he was from Derbyshire, she enjoyed a delightful conversation with him, as she had spent part of her youth in Lambton, a village adjoining the Pemberley estate. He had taken the time to provide her with a detailed description of the area and its residents, which rekindled many of her memories. One thing explaining another, as it did for Elizabeth, she found her affinity for this charming officer growing. Then, leaving the young people to revel in the pleasures of dancing, she gazed at the people gathered in the Philips’ salon. What she observed left her pensive.

  ‘Edward, what do you think of the evening at the Philips’?’ Madeline Gardiner asked her husband when she seated herself in the chair across from him.

  He looked up from his reading of the Times and smiled at his wife who, already in her nightdress, was removing her hairpins.

  ‘Do you wish to say that I must attempt to remember the most minute of details of what happened on an evening where there were approximately twenty-five people in attendance, twenty-four hours ago, is that it?’

  ‘You are teasing me, Edward! And yet, yes, I insist,’ she emphasised, returning his smile.

  ‘Well help me, my dear. Provide my memory with some direction, otherwise I will not be able to help you.’

  ‘Let us talk about the most important topic, that of our nieces. Does that suit you?’

  ‘That makes my task easier, indeed. Let us see… Lydia was loud and very excited, particularly when she was talking to the young officers… and Kitty appeared to be singing the same refrain. I believe that my sister intervened at a certain point in time, when the tension increased somewhat, but it was nothing of importance. I must admit that I heard my brother-in-law, and you are familiar with his sense of humour, say, in a voice that was loud enough to be heard by those nearby, that he had created the two most foolish girls in the region. There, what do you think of that?’

  ‘Yes, that did not escape my notice… and that is not the first time I have heard him utter this opinion, if I am correct. What can you tell me regarding Mary?’

  Mr. Gardiner reflected for a moment, and then admitted to having noted nothing in particular with respect to her.

  ‘Did you know, Edward, that Charlotte Lucas shall be wed in ten days?’

  ‘Yes, of course! Anyone who has spoken with my sister Fanny will have heard about this terrible news!’ exclaimed Mr. Gardiner, sounding rather amused. ‘But what is the connection between the future Mrs. Collins and our niece, Madeline?’

  ‘Well, during the evening, Mary looked at Charlotte Lucas rather bitterly whenever she spoke of her upcoming nuptials and, as Elizabeth confided in me that her sister had truly appreciated the visit from Reverend Collins this fall, I wonder if she would not have liked, all things considered, to be the mistress of the Hunsford parish.’

  ‘And, categorically, the future mistress of Longbourn. Do you believe that Fanny erred in putting Mr. Collins in pursuit of our Lizzy?’ inquired Mr. Gardiner, who found the thought of Mrs. Bennet mortified by her miscalculation rather humorous.

  ‘Indeed. However, I thought I knew your sister well, Edward. In addition, based on the conversation I had with her this morning, I deem it wise to not whisper a word of this to her, as this will only serve to whet her bitterness… and make the life of one of our nieces somewhat more difficult.’

  ‘On that note, speaking of a difficult life, I felt that Jane was rather melancholic and lacking in spirit. She has such an even-tempered and pleasant nature, but she remained seated for the entire evening, and it was not for lack of having been asked to dance. It’s Jane you wish to speak of, is it not?’

  And Mrs. Gardiner recounted, with all the sensitivity of which she was capable, how their niece had shown herself to be vulnerable to the charms of a young man who was as pleasant as he was attentive, and that this man had suddenly left the area, with no intention to return. She did not articulate the fact that what added to the burden of Jane’s suffering was that she had to hear Mrs. Bennet perpetually complain about the unpardonable ab
andonment of the wealthy Mr. Bingley. But Edward Gardiner was very much able to come to this conclusion; he knew his sister and knew her to be dreadful and lacking in subtlety when the topic of the future of her daughters was broached.

  ‘Madeline, what do you think of the idea of inviting Jane to stay with us at home? We could take her back with us to London… and get her away from Fanny’s jeremiads for a time.’

  ‘Yes, I feel that is an excellent idea, Edward. I will ask Elizabeth to help me convince Jane that this stay will do her well. I will also tell her that the children would love to see her, which is the absolute truth, and they will be able to elevate her spirits, believe me,’ she exclaimed, laughing.

  Mr. Gardiner, in thinking of his two youngest children, who were amusing and charming, but oh so boisterous, and could not help but laugh along with his wife.

  Mrs. Gardiner concluded the discussion by talking about Elizabeth and this young officer from Derbyshire, George Wickham, who had been introduced to her by her niece during the evening at the Philips’. She detailed the advice she had allowed herself to bestow upon her niece, taking into consideration the circumstances.

  As for Elizabeth, stretched out on her bed, she was in fact remembering precisely this conversation that she’d had with her Aunt Gardiner. Yes, George Wickham was a charming young man; his manners were pleasant and the obstacles which he’d had to surmount made him more deserving of compassion, but prudence was imperative. Truly? Yes, Mrs. Gardiner had insisted, because one could not lose sight of this young officer’s lack of wealth and… of that of the young woman in question. This aspect should considerably discourage these initial inclinations, at least, that is what one hoped… and, her aunt suggested, why not accept the invitation extended to her by her friend Charlotte? Who knew… this separation for a certain time could prove to be beneficial.

  Her thoughts returned to George Wickham. Did she love him? She certainly held him in great esteem, she found pleasure in his company, but beyond that, to say that she was smitten… Therefore, perhaps Aunt Madeline was right, and a short stay of a few weeks in Kent would do her well.

  *****

  And already it was the end of January. Charlotte was married and living at the Hunsford parish, Jane had been in London with the Gardiners for three weeks now, and Netherfield Park was still as deserted as before. Only Colonel Forster’s regiment added a bit of colour to the Meryton countryside and the surrounding area.

  Elizabeth headed off towards the path leading to Mount Oakham, hoping to go for a long walk on this cold morning, in an attempt to otherwise occupy her mind. Her first thoughts went to Jane; despite her attempts at joviality, her fragility was still apparent in her last letter. And it was most certainly not the visit she’d had with Caroline Bingley and her sister that attenuated her misery; these ladies had made it clear to her that their brother knew she was in London, but that he was extremely busy elsewhere… While she had never doubted the tenderness that Charles Bingley had shown towards her sister, she could not, without feeling angry, contemplate this lack of decision that currently made him the pawn in this game of intrigues being played by his sisters and that caused him to sacrifice his happiness to their inclinations. Then her thoughts moved on to what she had just learned about George Wickham: he was engaged. Lydia and Kitty could simply not believe it. He was therefore soon to be married… and his choice had been Mary King, this young, shy woman whose face was covered in freckles. This was pure treason, no less! according to the two youngest of the family. They did not seem to understand that the ten thousand pounds that Miss King had inherited made her singularly attractive, including her freckles. As for Elizabeth, she had received the news without feeling too disillusioned, and knowing that the monetary aspect had quickly taken precedence had comforted her when she thought of the affections she believed she’d felt some time ago. And the barely concealed regrets on the part of Mr. Wickham with regard to her, when they saw each other again and she congratulated him on his news, did not unsettle her. He remained charming and engaged, she remained pleasant and unmarried.

  Elizabeth walked briskly up the big hill, the fresh air helping her in her musings. It therefore seemed clear that a short stay of a few weeks in Kent would do her good. After all, Jane would still be in London and in good hands… Once she reached the top of the hill, she sat down on a stump at the side of the path and pulled out the letter from Charlotte to reread certain passages.

  … You will discover, dear Lizzy, this to be a very beautiful region. You who love walking so much, will be pleased to know that several of the paths on the Rosings Park estate would satisfy even the most demanding of walkers …

  …Please feel comfortable with accepting my invitation. The parsonage is large enough, and we have three rooms available to visitors. I can prepare the room that overlooks the gardens for you, the view is very pretty…

  …Mr. Collins will be very busy with his parish responsibilities, his visits to Rosings and the care of his vegetable garden, so we will be on our own most of the time…

  Elizabeth, turning back, continued on her walk, lost in thought. This letter, as sweet as it was, did not sound like that of a young newlywed. There was no trace of enthusiasm brought about by her new life nor was there any mention of the expected lustre of utterly new marital bliss. Ever discrete Charlotte subtly avoided these subjects; nevertheless, she seemed to have settled in nicely and was happy with the thought that she would have a visitor in March.

  ‘Dear friend, I shall come visit you in Hunsford, I shall walk along the Rosings paths, I shall endure Mr. Collins and I shall brave Lady Catherine, does that suit you?’ she spoke out loud to nobody in particular; or rather, addressed the trees, the rocks and the birds. She must have been happy with the response, because she smiled and flew back along the path leading to Longbourn.

  Chapter II

  In which we hear more about

  Miss Augusta Hawkins than we do anywhere else in this story

  The month of February brought with it some news that plunged the Crown’s most loyal subjects into a state of consternation; King George III had just been removed from the throne due to madness. It was whispered that this last bout had perhaps been brought about by the death of Princess Amelia in November. Be that as it may, his eldest son, who had a rather tumultuous past, would be regent prince. If this had cast a shadow over the start of the season, it seems as though everyone was valiantly fighting this sadness, as there was a flurry of invitations and social events. Between two dinners, a ball and a few stops at Gray’s or Wilding & Kent’s for crucial purchases, Caroline Bingley still managed to find the time to write her sister. The latter, accompanied by her husband, had left London ten days earlier to stay at Norland Park; Mrs. Dashwood had not forgotten the invitation she’d extended at the Netherfield ball.

  Louisa Hurst smiled when she folded the letter she’d just received. Her younger sister told her that invitations were arriving at such a dizzying pace that she was finding it difficult to respond to them; they were coming from far and wide. However, she assured, she made it her duty, or rather, she was pleased to visit the Darcys with her brother, where they had been received several times. And dear Georgiana, who smiled in response to Charles’ amiability, who blushed so prettily when she was asked to play piano; there was no parallel to this young accomplished woman!

  And how quickly had they forgotten Miss Bennet, who had written and whose letter they had unfortunately never received, and who attempted to re-establish these ties by presenting herself one afternoon, unannounced! Alas, on that very day, there had been a tea at Lady F***’s and they were already late, but they would, naturally, see each other again soon. Caroline Bingley had then waited long enough to ensure that the courtesy period of her visit had clearly passed and then presented herself at the Gardiners’. She had gauged everything as a whole and judged the most minor of details with as much condescension as she was capable and then, after twenty minutes had passed, excused herself: her close fri
end Augusta Hawkins would be leaving for Bath the following day. It goes without saying that the precedence accorded to such a departure such as this was understood. And, in any case, now that Miss Bennet had understood that Charles Bingley knew she was in London but that he was very much occupied by his societal obligations, was the mission not successful?

  Barely an hour had passed since Caroline Bingley, comfortably seated in the small boudoir of a pretty residence in Portman Square, had entertained Miss Grantley, her hostess, as well as Miss Hawkins and her friends, by explaining the effective method that Mr. Darcy – yes, he of Pemberley in Derbyshire – and she had employed to rescue dear Charles. These ladies had followed the account of this feat with genuine interest. And Mr. Darcy? He was doing very well, hastily added Miss Bingley, who, incidentally, would be dining at the magnificent residence at Grosvenor Square the following day, at the latest. The looks over the cups of tea were somewhat more envious and the smiles were somewhat more incredulous.