Much Ado About Many Things

by Sophie Lynbrook

  Miss Bingley was causing Mr. Darcy far more discomfort. In their scenes together, she wanted to stand very close to him, and her acting was as disappointing as ever. Having briefly had an excellent Beatrice, he found the shortcomings of the current one all the more lamentable. It was difficult for him to look forward to the performance as much as everybody else was.

  On Tuesday, they put on their costumes for one final rehearsal before their performance on the following evening. There was a great air of excitement among the company as they began, and a great sense of accomplishment when they were done.

  Afterwards, there was the general conversation which had become their habit before parting for the day. On this occasion, Mr. Darcy did not hurry away. He was chatting with a couple of the officers when some movement out of the window caught his eye. A carriage was approaching. One of their neighbours coming to visit, presumably. Or perhaps not. He noted four horses, and the carriage had a particularly impressive appearance. Indeed, it was rather like one of his aunt’s carriages.

  Leaving Captain Carter and Mr. Chamberlayne for a moment, Mr. Darcy stepped closer to the window for a better look. This could indeed be his aunt’s carriage. So could the horses. She possessed four of that very colouring. The colour of the coachman’s livery was also consistent with that of Lady Catherine’s servants.

  The vehicle swept past his position, but the blinds were down, so he could not see who was inside. Nor could he observe the passengers disembarking. The window afforded no view of that part of the drive. But he had a strong feeling that his aunt was about to make an appearance.

  He left the window and crossed the room. At the door, he paused. There were voices in the hall, mostly indistinguishable, except for a louder one which could very well be his aunt. The noise of various conversations made it hard to be certain, but the voices outside were drawing nearer. Visitors approached.

  While talking with Charlotte, Elizabeth saw Mr. Darcy walk across the room, which led her to suppose that he was leaving them, as he so often did when Mr. Wickham was present. But he paused at the door, and then took a step back as it opened. The footman ushered in three persons: a tall lady of imposing appearance, a small, thin lady of sickly complexion, and a nondescript one of subservient manner.

  Relatives of Mr. Bingley? Elizabeth wondered.

  But then the imposing person, who obviously had command of the group, loudly said, “There you are, Darcy. I have come to watch this play of yours. I was very disappointed not to receive an invitation, but fortunately, Mr. Collins wrote to inform me of the date of your performance.”

  The lady’s identity was immediately obvious.

  So this is the amiable, generous, and condescending Lady Catherine who takes so much interest in other people’s affairs. She does have the air of being a busybody. I can imagine her poking her nose into a great many more closets than just those at Hunsford Parsonage.

  Mr. Collins rushed forward, presenting himself to his esteemed patroness as if he were more important than her own nephew, who was thus prevented from saying anything.

  “I am delighted that you could come,” he said, speaking as though he were her host. “And Miss de Bourgh as well. I never expected such an honour.”

  This is the lady who would surpass all others and ornament the British court? There is nothing to justify his excessive praise of her. She only looks sick and cross. And not at all pleased to be here. Indeed, she looks as though nothing ever pleases her.

  Now Miss Bingley was elbowing Mr. Collins out of the way, greeting her guest with unusual deference, and full of apologies for not having personally invited her ladyship. “I most certainly would have done so had Mr. Darcy not given me to believe that you would not travel so far for such an insignificant reason,” she said.

  But this is almost criticism of him, Elizabeth thought with amusement. It appears that Miss Bingley is capable of sacrificing her desire for pleasing him to the greater cause of pleasing his social superiors.

  “I do not think a play with two of my nephews in leading roles an insignificant thing,” Lady Catherine declared. “Anyway, we were already going to London to consult a doctor about Anne’s health. It was no great thing to come a little further.”

  But should the invalid have come further? Elizabeth wondered. It is an odd sort of mother who would expect so much of a sickly daughter.

  “He was a strange doctor,” Lady Catherine said. “His recommendation was for Anne to have more activity, so watching this play of yours will be just the thing for her.”

  I think he may have been referring to actual exercise, not sitting and watching the activity of others. Elizabeth felt a great desire to say this aloud, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

  Miss Bingley declared her delight at having such distinguished visitors, and she was followed by Sir William, who appeared to be quivering, but he seemed to think himself obliged to welcome her ladyship into the neighbourhood. The response was largely critical. Lady Catherine had been unimpressed by Meryton, and she thought that the lane leading to Netherfield was much too narrow.

  I cannot comprehend how Mr. Collins finds her amiable. He must have the strangest notion of that concept. And some puzzling ideas of generosity. Arrogant and self-interested is how I would describe Lady Catherine. As for her condescension, it can only be of the negative sort.

  “Where is my other nephew?” she demanded to know. “Ah, there you are Fitzwilliam. Have you no greeting for your aunt?”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam came forward now. He apologized for his lack of haste in greeting her, but there was no deference on his part. He was obviously not in awe of his aunt or unsettled by the harshness of her tone.

  But what of Mr. Darcy? I wonder what relationship he has with his aunt. Her arrogant behaviour reminds me of my first impressions of him. They may be united in sharing the family pride, and then I really will have no hope of him at all.

  Lady Catherine now turned her attention to their little theatre. “You seem to have a serviceable sort of stage, although it is rather small and inconvenient,” she said, looking critically at the structure. “I would have placed it in a different part of the room.”

  “I quite agree with you,” Miss Bingley said. “Unfortunately, the position of the stage was dictated by the location of the connecting door.”

  “Oh, there is a door, is there? I suppose one must have a door. You will make your entrances from another room, will you?”

  With Miss Bingley on one side and Mr. Collins on the other, her ladyship went to inspect the adjoining room. While she was busy poking her nose into it, the officers made a move to depart, but they were unhurried in their leave-taking. Elizabeth thought that Mr. Wickham looked impatient to be gone, however.

  Perhaps he and Lady Catherine are not on the best of terms either. This is indeed curious.

  Curiosity was satisfied in a moment. Lady Catherine returned and immediately spied Mr. Wickham even as he was turning himself away from her view. “You have taken up a military career, have you?” she said to him. “I thought you were going into the church. Oh, I remember now, you preferred a different career. The law, was it not? And Darcy gave you a very generous sum of money instead of the living.”

  So here is the truth of that matter, Elizabeth thought. It is as I suspected. Mr. Darcy was indeed the honourable one in those dealings.

  “I told him at the time that half as much would have been more than fair. But you did not study the law after all? Or did you fail to gain admittance?”

  Lady Catherine paused, compelling Mr. Wickham to make some reply to this one of her questions. “I preferred a more active sort of life, madam. You may recall that I was always fond of being outdoors.”

  “Yes, you were. And you had an excellent seat on a horse. I remember once saying to my brother that few men in England can ride as well as Mr. Wickham.”

  He smirked happily at this praise, while Elizabeth marvelled at this demonstration of how easily Mr. Wickham could have spent his
life duping people. How glad she was that he had not duped her. And that she had seen which was the better man.

  Lady Catherine was now quite willing to tell Colonel Forster that he had an excellent man in Wickham. She then gave him a great deal of advice as to the management of the regiment and instructed him as to the discipline of his men.

  I wonder what Mr. Darcy is thinking at this moment. He has not said a word since her appearance. Does he approve of her manners, or can he see her arrogance? He is not like this. He must be aware that she is overbearing.

  I have never been so mortified, Mr. Darcy was thinking. My aunt’s manners have sometimes made me uncomfortable, but I have never felt so humiliated by the connection. I am heartily ashamed of her arrogance. And she is probably ruining all my chances. After seeing this exhibition, Elizabeth will never think me capable of conquering my pride.

  Once Lady Catherine was done with Colonel Forster, the officers left, followed by Charlotte and Sir William. Mr. Collins lingered in an eagerness to tell Lady Catherine how many speeches he had and what a fine suit of clothes he was to wear, but after several attempts, Mr. Bennet finally managed to take him away.

  Miss Bingley went to make arrangements for unexpected guests, without being the least bit put out. In fact, she was gratified by being put to any trouble by such an important person.

  Her heart soared when Lady Catherine followed her into the hall to say, “My brother Matlock will also be arriving shortly, along with his wife, and my other nephew. I expect them to be accompanied by Miss Darcy and her companion as well. They will all need bedchambers.”

  Miss Bingley would not have been happier to learn that the king himself was coming to attend their play. Perhaps dukes or even royalty might one day be achieved, but entertaining the Matlocks was the current height of her ambitions. She would personally supervise the preparation of their chambers. In such a cause, it would not even be beneath her to straighten the pillows.

  CHAPTER 46

  Oh, I have suffered with those that I saw suffer.

  THE TEMPEST, ACT I, SCENE II

  As Lady Catherine had only mentioned the additional guests to Miss Bingley, Mr. Darcy remained unaware that his sister was already on her way to the last place he wished her to be, but he had plenty of other suffering to occupy his thoughts. Except for Miss Bingley and Mr. Hurst, who had disappeared again, everybody else went into the drawing room, where Lady Catherine continued to embarrass him.

  Jane and Elizabeth came in for a great share of her attention. In that dreadfully inquisitive way of hers, she wanted to know all about their family, their father’s property, and their upbringing. Naturally, she was critical of almost everything she heard.

  Mr. Darcy wanted to sink into the floor as his aunt declared her astonishment at their lack of accomplishments and the fact that they had not had a governess. He cringed when she expressed her shock at learning that all their sisters were out in society. He deplored the condescension which so clearly showed that she considered them very inferior.

  He rejoiced, however, in so many of Elizabeth’s answers to these questions. She answered sensibly and with commendable patience. The affront which she must certainly be feeling was concealed, but she spoke boldly, showing no fear of the lady who often struck fear into the hearts of her quivering victims.

  His heart was filled with pride by seeing that she was a match for his aunt. She conceded nothing and defended her point of view with that spirit which he so admired. It was almost a disappointment when Lady Catherine ran out of questions and turned to interrogate Mrs. Hurst instead.

  But Mr. Darcy was glad that Elizabeth did not have to suffer any more of this arrogant impertinence. He gave her an apologetic look and hoped that she was not thinking the worst of him for having such a relative.

  Yet I judged her by her relatives. Here is irony justly heaped upon me.

  But Elizabeth was not thinking the worst of him. She was thinking that he was nothing like his aunt. Even at his worst, he had never been this condescending. He certainly did not poke his nose into everybody’s business. He had a similar confidence in his opinions, but it was expressed in such a different way. He debated; Lady Catherine dictated. It was evident that his pride came from his family background, as she had thought, but in his case, it was tempered by a great many excellent qualities.

  She saw and very much appreciated the apologetic look. It was returned with a soft smile meant to show that he was not being held accountable.

  After interrogating Mrs. Hurst, Lady Catherine began to speak of private theatricals. Without ever having been involved in them, she was wanting to proclaim herself as an expert.

  “I hope that you have been rehearsing extensively,” she said. “No excellence in acting is to be acquired without constant practice. I often said so to the late parson’s daughters, who were fond of putting on a play. I told them that they would never act really well unless they rehearsed more.”

  It was delightfully amusing when she declared, “There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of drama than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever acted in a play, I would have been a great proficient.”

  Elizabeth suppressed her mirth and forced herself not to look amused. She was determined not to cause Mr. Darcy the sort of pain which she often felt upon seeing the scorn of others at some remark of her mother’s. He smiled at her, however, and rolled his eyes in the direction of his aunt. In a moment, they came back to meet her own in a look which made her feel that there was the strongest connection between them. Sooner or later, that would have to be addressed.

  Miss Bingley rejoined them now, saying to Lady Catherine, “Rooms have been prepared for all our guests. I am confident that Lord and Lady Matlock will find nothing wanting in their accommodations.”

  “My parents?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked in astonishment.

  “Yes,” Lady Catherine answered. “It was negligent of you not to have invited them, but I rectified that error. They should be arriving momentarily, with your brother as well.”

  “My brother is coming to watch our play? That is just the sort of thing which he detests.”

  “Your father insisted upon it.”

  “I wonder who insisted that he had to come,” Colonel Fitzwilliam whispered to Mr. Darcy.

  “Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley will also be arriving soon,” Lady Catherine said.

  “What!” Mr. Darcy cried, half rising from his chair.

  “There is no need for you to be so ruffled,” Lady Catherine told him. “Naturally she will be properly guarded and attended by two men servants. You know that I am excessively attentive to such things.”

  “It is not her travelling arrangements which concern me. There is no reason for her to be coming here at all. I cannot understand why you thought it necessary to interfere in this way. I am excessively displeased.”

  “You must give me leave to know what is appropriate for my own niece.”

  “I do not give you any such leave. Fitzwilliam and I and responsible for her welfare, not you. And I mean to countermand your instructions. I shall send word immediately, telling her to remain at home.”

  “It is too late for that. She will already be on her way.”

  “And it will be delightful to have her here,” Miss Bingley said, intervening in their argument. “There is no need for you to worry about her music lessons, Mr. Darcy. She can practice with me while she is here. I am very capable of guiding her musical endeavors, and you know how fond I am of dear Georgiana’s company.”

  “That is not the point,” he said, getting up and abruptly leaving the room.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam immediately excused himself and followed, with Miss Bingley looking disconcertedly at their departing backs for a moment before she took a seat beside Lady Catherine and willingly submitted herself to questioning.

  Elizabeth wished that she could follow as well.

  If only I had accepted him, I would have the right to offer him
comfort. I cannot bear to sit here pretending that nothing is amiss when I know how shocked and distressed he must be. And his poor sister too. She will arrive to be given the most awful shock. I wish there were something I could do for them. I wish I could ease his suffering.

  But perhaps there is something which can be done. I believe it is feasible.

  She waited a few more minutes and then slipped out of the room.

  CHAPTER 47

  A gentle riddance. — Draw the curtains, go!

  The merchant of venice, act ii, scene vii

  “I have never been so furious with our aunt,” Mr. Darcy said to Colonel Fitzwilliam in the library. “She is an interfering, domineering, high-handed, tyrannical…”

  “Hedge-pig,” the colonel supplied, delving into his stock of Shakespearean words.

  “Perhaps not that.”

  “Filthy hag?”

  “Yes, that will do. She is a meddlesome witch. Of all the stupid things she could have done, this is the absolute worst. How am I to tell Georgiana that she must prepare herself to see Mr. Wickham? It is too much. We have to rid ourselves of him.”

  “I agree, but how?”

  “There is one way. He is always in need of money. There must be a price at which he will give up his part in our performance.”

  “I hope it will not be too steep.”

  “For Georgiana’s comfort, no price is too high. I shall go into Meryton right now and bargain with him to make some excuse for not being able to act tomorrow. Illness, a sprained ankle, anything he likes as long as he keeps away tomorrow night.”

  “Let me go in your place. Let me spare you from suffering his gloating. I shall do my best to keep to a moderate amount.”