Elizabeth Bennet's Impertinent Letter

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Elizabeth Bennet's Impertinent Letter Page 63

by J P Christy


  “I am Dr. Stirling.” Gesturing at the next two gentlemen in the row, he said, “Dr. Dale and I attend the Fitzwilliam family, and Dr. Goldsmith attends the Darcys.”

  Lady Catherine frowned. “You mistake my meaning, sir. I do not wish to know you!”

  “Catherine!” Lord Fitzwilliam exclaimed while Lady Fitzwilliam scolded, “Manners, madam, manners!”

  Ignoring everyone, Lady Catherine moved her finger to point at Darcy, sitting on the other side of Goldsmith. She acknowledged him with a curt, “Nephew.”

  “Aunt,” he replied. When she moved her pointing finger and her glare to Elizabeth, who sat beside Darcy, the younger woman gave her an impertinent smile.

  Ignoring her, Lady Catherine pointed to Shelton. “You, sir—”

  Darcy interrupted. “I know you are acquainted with my lovely fiancée, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

  A skirmish of scowls followed until Lady Catherine’s middle-aged solicitor whispered to her, “Mr. Darcy’s choice of bride is not the battle we are here to win, your ladyship.”

  Lady Catherine exhaled in a noisy sigh. “Miss Bennet. How kind of you to take the time to join us in our private discussion of a sensitive family matter.” Expecting no response, she was startled when Elizabeth spoke.

  “I follow your ladyship’s good example in that I take pleasure in being useful.”

  Annoyed with the theatrics, Fitzwilliam spoke. “In your letter, Aunt, you told of your concern for Anne’s health. Yet here you are with two solicitors, a parson, but only one doctor. Whereas our party contains three doctors and only one solicitor.”

  “One very good solicitor.” Anne gave Shelton a grateful smile.

  “And three doctors with impeccable reputations,” said Lady Fitzwilliam, regarding Dr. Reagan with more sympathy than awe.

  Noticing Lady Fitzwilliam’s gaze, the doctor cupped a hand to one ear. “Were you speaking to me, my lady? My apologies, I did not hear. Would you be so kind as to repeat yourself?”

  Lady Catherine poked Dr. Reagan’s foot with her walking stick. “Hush, sir!” Pointing her cane at Shelton, she said, “He is closest to your age, Anne, other than your cousins, so I suppose he is my new son-in-law. He has a pleasant enough face, albeit rather ordinary, but, clearly, he has no money.”

  Amused, Shelton said, “Permit me to introduce myself, your ladyship. I am Peter Shelton, esquire, Miss De Bourgh’s solicitor.”

  “Nonsense. My solicitors represent Anne’s interests.”

  “Miss De Bourgh has not chosen us for that honor,” the middle-aged man solicitor regretfully.

  “My absent husband,” Anne said, “is on his way to Canada in search of opportunities to enhance the De Bourgh fortune.”

  “I am calling your bluff, girl! Your husband does not exist,” Lady Catherine sneered.

  “Indeed he does, Aunt,” Fitzwilliam said. “I witnessed the marriage, as did Mr. Shelton and Mrs. Jenkinson. You are, in fact, acquainted with your son-in-law—George Wickham.”

  Lady Catherine shrieked, “That rake! The son of Pemberley’s late steward!”

  “And the love of my life!” Anne crossed her hands over her heart. Then, she glanced at the refreshments as if seeing them for the first time. “Oh, ginger biscuits. I adore ginger biscuits!” she exclaimed. Taking a bite of one, she moaned with delight. “Perfect! Would you like one, Mama?”

  Lady Catherine addressed her solicitors over her shoulder. “You see how nonsensical she is? Non compos mentis!”

  “A fondness for ginger biscuits is not an accepted test of mental incapacity,” Dr. Stirling said solemnly. Before Lady Catherine could respond, he addressed the other two doctors. “Would you concur, gentlemen?”

  “Quite true, sir,” Dr. Goldsmith said, nodding.

  “Oh, yes, the ginger-biscuit test was discredited years ago,” Dr. Dale agreed.

  “We are talking about Anne’s scoundrel of a husband!” Lady Catherine shouted.

  “George is a bit naughty; it’s part of his charm,” Anne said.

  “And why, so soon after your rushed nuptials, did this love of your life leave you?”

  “Mr. Wickham feels unworthy of her,” Mrs. Jenkinson said. “Although he has married a woman with a fortune, he feels driven to prove himself. He has no illusions about his reputation, but his love for Anne has made him want to be a better man.”

  “Nonsense!” Lady Catherine. “I feel as if I am watching a play —a very bad play!”

  Shelton rose and offered a document he had removed from his leather folio. “Your daughter is legally married, madam, and she is of an age to do so without your permission. Here is a copy of the marriage licence.”

  After gesturing to her middle-aged solicitor to examine the licence, her ladyship asked, “Do you expect me to share my Rosings with you and your scoundrel husband, Anne?”

  “No, Mama, I do not. I shall live in the London townhouse and wait for George there. You may live alone at Rosings until such time as Christopher takes over the estate. When that occurs, I expect you to move to the dower house.”

  “I beg your pardon!”

  “At last,” Mrs. Jenkinson murmured, squeezing Anne’s hand.

  Lady Catherine declared, “You are all to understand that I came here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I be dissuaded from it. I am not used to submitting to any person’s whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment.”

  “That will make your situation at present more pitiable, but it will have no effect on me,” Anne said, rising to her feet. “I know what Papa’s will says: the estate and the London house are mine. But until you attempted to force me to marry, I chose not to claim my inheritance. If you are unhappy with this outcome, you have only yourself to blame.”

  “Anne! Everything I have done has been for you, for the honor of the family, and for Rosings.”

  “I have named my dear cousin Christopher as the heir to Rosings, and I have asked him to live there and manage the estate,” Anne announced.

  Fitzwilliam looked at the surprised faces of his parents and gave a little nod. Observing this, Lady Catherine pounded her walking stick on the floor. “Christopher, you shall not usurp my place! I will not allow it!”

  Repeating Mrs. Bennet’s lament, Fitzwilliam said, “I have no wish to throw you into the hedgerows, Aunt. However, I am betrothed and have resigned my commission. As Anne said, you are welcome to occupy the dower house, and you are welcome to take whichever furnishings you please from the manor house. After all, the dower house is where you would live if Anne and Wickham chose to reside at Rosings. Nonetheless, Rosings will shortly become home to my bride and myself.”

  Anne exchanged smiles with Fitzwilliam and then sat. “Mama, your jointure provides more than sufficient means for you to buy a house wherever you choose. But what you do not have is control over Rosings or me.”

  Lady Catherine glared at her solicitors. “Do something!”

  “Consider, Mama, your name—the Fitzwilliam name—will be associated with Rosings, superseding the De Bourgh name.”

  After a long pause, the middle-aged solicitor cleared his throat. “After we put into writing that you, Mr. Fitzwilliam, have granted Lady Catherine the right to take any furnishings she chooses to the dower house, we will submit the document for your signature. If I may suggest on my client’s behalf, sir, as there are two carriages at Rosings, might her ladyship have one of them?”

  “My aunt may have the small carriage; I will need the large one for my wife and the daughter she brings to our family.”

  After a long pause, Lady Catherine said, “I want two weeks to put the dower house in order with my things. My things!”

  “As you wish, aunt. I will wait until mid-September to come to Rosings.”

  Lord Fitzwilliam regarded his sister with mistrust. “Take care, Catherine, that your greed does not get the better of you when you are furnishing the dower house.”

  “Wesley, you wound me! I
refuse to stay here to be insulted.” She rose abruptly and strode toward the door, walking with far more energetic steps than when she entered. “I take no leave of any of you; you deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased.” Then she swept out.

  Staring after Lady Catherine, the young solicitor asked his superior, “Is that all? Are we leaving?”

  “I suspect we were here only as window dressing. I doubt her ladyship envisioned this show of family.”

  “Well, I must say this has been a bothersome day of travel,” the young man grumbled.

  His superior gave him a disdainful look. “Assist Dr. Reagan, sir. It has been a bothersome day of travel for him, as well.”

  Collins was the last to leave, and when his eyes briefly met Elizabeth’s, she saw confusion, as if he could not comprehend what had just occurred. After he followed the other men out, Elizabeth hurried over to embrace Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson, who stood arm in arm. “I am so happy for you!”

  Georgiana joined them. “What was that about ginger biscuits?”

  Anne laughed. “It amused me to follow my declaration of love with high praise of something as inconsequential as a biscuit. I had no idea the doctors would join in my joke.”

  To Elizabeth, Mrs. Jenkinson said, “You do realize you could be credited with setting this emancipation into motion.”

  Anne interjected, “Or blamed, from Mama’s point of view.”

  Darcy, who now stood behind Elizabeth, asked, “How so?”

  Anne’s look said only the truth would do. “Darcy, did you not break our non-engagement so you could marry Elizabeth?”

  “Well, yes, in a somewhat circuitous way.”

  “And dear Anne,” Mrs. Jenkinson said as if questioning a courtroom witness, “did not Elizabeth’s display of impertinent conversation inspire you?”

  “As well you know, dear Nora, I studied her techniques with great diligence.”

  “The impertinence lessons were not a joke?” Darcy asked.

  “Indeed not, sir,” Elizabeth said. “Anne was a gifted student!”

  “Darcy,” Fitzwilliam called. “Shelton and I wish a word with you.”

  “I will return as soon as I can,” Darcy said to Elizabeth.

  Watching him walk away, Anne asked, “When do you intend to make an honorable man of my Derbyshire cousin?”

  “Oh, heavens, is Mr. Darcy not honorable?”

  “I misspoke. I meant to say my humorless, stuffy, arrogant Derbyshire cousin.”

  “Anne!” Georgiana exclaimed, but she was amused.

  “Mr. Darcy may have been that once,” Mrs. Jenkinson said, “but no more. I believe this summer has changed us all to one degree or another. When do you marry, Elizabeth?”

  “Although the last reading of the banns was several Sundays ago, Mr. Darcy and I have not yet confirmed a wedding date.”

  “Let it be soon, for I wish to attend, yet I am eager for Nora and myself to begin our new life at De Bourgh House. There are many changes I wish to make!”

  Elizabeth said, “Well, I shall advise my fiancé that we must not dawdle. Would you kindly tell him I have gone to the back garden; I feel in need of fresh air.” The ladies said they would, and she slipped out of the drawing room.

  ≈≈≈

  Relishing the feeling that all was finally right with the world, Elizabeth sat on the low wall surrounding the fountain. The grey clouds had blown away and, as she closed her eyes, she smiled to feel the sun on her face. At last, Will and I can be married!

  Moments later, however, Lady Catherine bellowed, “I am trapped in the bowels of Hades!”

  Reluctantly opening her eyes, Elizabeth saw her ladyship approach. “How so?”

  “One of my carriage wheels was ruined by your wretched roads.”

  They are hardly my roads. Still, Elizabeth was in no mood to argue with this querulous woman. “I am sorry for your trouble, madam.”

  “Ruin, ruined, ruination! Everything is ruined, despite my best efforts.” She gave Elizabeth a steely look. “It is you, Miss Bennet, who have infected the Darcys, the De Bourghs, and the Fitzwilliams! I shall keep a careful eye on Mrs. Collins; thus, if she shows any sign of your bad influence, I can counsel Mr. Collins to keep her in check.”

  At that remark, Elizabeth realized she was in the mood to argue or, at least, to show her disapprobation. Rising, she said, “You, madam, are a bully. I take no leave of you; you deserve no such attention!”

  “I am not finished,” Lady Catherine growled.

  “Ah, but you are, Aunt,” Darcy said. The two ladies turned to see him walking quickly toward them. Taking Elizabeth in his arms, he asked, “Are you all right, my love?”

  She nodded, her cheek against his chest, before addressing Lady Catherine. “As I am your nephew’s choice and he is mine, why should I not accept him?”

  “Are the shades of Pemberley thus to be polluted? You, madam, will be censured, slighted, and despised by everyone connected with the Darcys. Your alliance will be a disgrace, and your name will never even be mentioned by any of us.”

  “Utter nonsense!” Lord Fitzwilliam growled.

  “What a happy coincidence my dear husband was escorting me around the grounds,” Lady Fitzwilliam said. “Thus, we may correct your erroneous assertions, Catherine.” Addressing Elizabeth, she said, “You will be welcomed by everyone who wishes to remain on good terms with the Darcys and the Fitzwilliams.”

  After a tense silence, Lady Catherine barked, “Darcy, see me to my carriage.”

  After a brief struggle against a lifetime of training as a gentleman, he replied, “No.”

  “Catherine, you found your way to the back of the house by yourself,” Lord Fitzwilliam said. “I am sure you will be equally successful at finding the front of the house.”

  Sputtering with rage, she exclaimed, “Wesley, you are a horrible brother!” Finding herself outnumbered for the second time in one day by people whom she could not control, Lady Catherine retraced her steps and disappeared around the house.

  Lady Fitzwilliam said, “Being upset with Catherine is like being upset with the weather. It does no good for your peace of mind and has no effect on the object of your annoyance.”

  Grinning, Lord Fitzwilliam said, “Darcy, Miss Bennet, we shall see you at dinner. Now, excuse us as we continue our walk.” As he escorted his wife away, he said, “Pretty countryside here.”

  “Yes.” After a hesitation, Lady Fitzwilliam asked, “Was it difficult for you, Wesley, having to confront Catherine today?”

  “No, this was a long time coming. And now Christopher will be the master of Rosings. Not a bad day’s work, if you ask me.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. And, I think it will be nice to have Anne in town; she has become more interesting lately.”

  “I suppose we will be expected to invite the companion, too, when Anne comes to dinner. It is clear Mrs. Jenkinson has been very good for her.”

  “Mrs. Jenkinson has is a gentleman’s daughter, as is Miss Bennet. You have always been liberal-minded about that, Wesley. It is one of the many qualities I love about you.”

  After walking in companionable silence for several more minutes, Lord Fitzwilliam asked, “Do you still want to get rid of that pile in Scotland?”

  She laughed. “Let’s give it to Christopher as a wedding gift.”

  Darcy and Elizabeth sat on the fountain wall, watching Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam as they stopped beneath the plum tree. They heard her ladyship laugh when her husband picked a plum and presented it to her with great flourish. Elizabeth said, “They seem quite happy.”

  Darcy nodded. “Although theirs was an arranged union, they have great affection and respect for one another. How they behave toward each other reminds me of what I have observed of the marriage of your Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. I find it reassuring that we each have these examples of marital felicity.”

  “Before Lady Catherine interrupted, I was musing on the fact that now I can marry the man I love. And her
e you are.”

  “There was a time when I thought Aunt Catherine’s notion of correct behavior was what I was supposed to follow, as befitted my station. But because of you, I found myself conversing with Mrs. Annesley, listening to Mrs. Jenkinson, and accepting Mr. Ainsworth as a friend. I do not say I changed for you, but I did change from knowing you. I am the happier for it.”

  “And I am the happier for loving you.” Elizabeth kissed him.

  “You said you prefer a Wednesday wedding. Will you marry me tomorrow?”

  “There are preparations to be made, sir! But with help from our sisters and friends, we could wed a week from tomorrow.”

  “Let us agree nothing will cause us to change that date.”

  “Are we not tempting fate?”

  “Probably, but it is high time fate took pity on us.”

  ≈≈≈

  Anne’s sense of freedom began to bloom from the instant Fitzwilliam had handed her into the coach in which they escaped London and Lady Catherine. On that first morning, she had exerted herself with uncharacteristic vigor to convince her cousin to stop at De Bourgh house for her possessions and then in St. Giles so she could offer a position to Michaels. Each day since, she found herself challenging—in thought, word, or deed—the conventions with which she had been raised. Thus, her family members (including Mrs. Jenkinson and Mr. Shelton) found themselves taking Anne aside for conversations regarding the possible consequences of some expressions of liberation.

  Anne had wanted Michaels to join the celebratory dinner at Purvis Lodge, which included the three doctors who had arrived together the day before and were guests at the lodge. However, the young mulatto groom convinced her that his presence would be disruptive at a party whose guests included an earl and a countess. As a compromise, he agreed to join Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson at nuncheon the next day. “As fancy or as plain a meal as you like, my lady.”

  Although Michaels admired Anne and appreciated her gratitude, he made a mental note to ask Mrs. Peake about guiding their new employer in following social conventions. If Anne’s behavior was seen by society as too eccentric, there were likely to be unfavorable consequences for the reputations of the staff at De Bourgh house.

 

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