The Companion Page 4

  Thus followed a long litany of items Lady Catherine felt Elizabeth needed to know. She was commanded, among other things, to always be punctual for mealtimes and instructed to present herself promptly when Lady Catherine demanded her presence. Lady Catherine spoke at length about what she should expect for their evening entertainment, what time they arose, what time they retired, how long they should spend in the sitting-room, and a whole host of other details for which the lady demanded obedience. It appeared like the entire house was managed on a strict schedule which was never allowed to deviate, their lives broken down to the smallest detail and executed with exactness.

  After Lady Catherine finished speaking of what she expected for the running of the house, she proceeded to explain in the same exacting detail what Miss de Bourgh could not do (or more accurately, what Lady Catherine would not allow her to do.)

  “Anne is quite delicate, Miss Bennet,” said the lady. “Thus, she must at all times protect her health. It will be your responsibility to ensure she is comfortable and content. There are a selection of shawls for her use, and you must always have one at hand to use accordingly. Anne has a distressing tendency to contract agues at the least sign of provocation, and the use of a shawl will help protect her.

  “Anne possesses a phaeton and ponies for her use, and I encourage her to make use of them. When she goes out, however, I require you to attend her and a footman to ride behind in case of any problems occurring. When she goes out, she is to wear a bonnet at all times, and she is never allowed to walk in the gardens when the sun is shining. An excess of sun would be harmful to her delicate skin, and I will not have her becoming coarse and brown like some common housewife.”

  Lady Catherine kept up this constant stream of instructions long after their luncheon had been consumed and cleared by her efficient servants, and after a time Elizabeth wondered if there was anything Miss de Bourgh was allowed to do. She was not to read after dark, she was to stay near the fire in the evenings, she could not walk excessively, and she was to nap for two hours every afternoon. Above all, she was not to do anything to distress her health. And though Lady Catherine did not say anything outright, there was some mention of a cousin who was expected to come and offer for her at the earliest opportunity. Knowing that Mr. Darcy was related to her, Elizabeth recalled Mr. Wickham’s words and knew he was to be the expected groom. It would fulfill Elizabeth’s sense of irony if a man as proud and fastidious as he was to marry a woman so colorless and terrorized as Miss de Bourgh. She had no doubt he would take his mother-in-law’s position in his new wife’s life very well, indeed!

  “Do you understand my instructions, Miss Bennet?” asked Lady Catherine, bringing Elizabeth’s mind back to the present.

  “I do,” replied Elizabeth, not wishing to make an issue of such nonsensical instructions, half of which she would ignore without a second thought. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Miss de Bourgh covering her mouth with her hand, as if hiding her mirth, but knowing the girl could not possibly show such emotion in front of her mother, Elizabeth put it from her mind.

  “Excellent,” replied Lady Catherine. “Now, let us speak something of your specific duties and what I expect from you. I have installed you in this position with the expectation that you will uphold your duties and standards of behavior with exactness, and you should know that I will not tolerate anything less. The first thing you must understand is that I require you to attend to Anne at all times. This is not negotiable.”

  “I cannot do that, Lady Catherine,” Elizabeth was quick to reply. “As you recall, I have agreed to assist for a time until you are able to find another woman to take the position. However that may be, I live an active life, and that includes walking and other activities, not to mention a certain amount of time to myself. I am sure Miss de Bourgh wishes for the same.”

  “I would appreciate it, Miss Bennet, if you would not inform me of what my daughter wishes.” The severity in Lady Catherine’s voice would have suggested that Elizabeth had just dealt her ladyship a mortal insult. “Regardless of your opinions, this is what I require, and you will oblige me. A companion is not of much use if she does not attend her charge, especially one of the delicate constitution possessed by my daughter. If you wish to stay with us and benefit from the honor of serving my daughter, you will obey.”

  Elizabeth forbore mentioning that she had not wished for the position in the first place. Though she gave some little consideration to simply giving the lady a lukewarm agreement, she thought it would likely be a point of contention in the future, so she determined to ensure Lady Catherine knew her sentiments from the beginning.

  “It is too much to ask of me, and I will not do it. We—both Miss de Bourgh and myself—will require distance at times. I am not certain how Mrs. Jenkinson performed her duties, but I will not accede to such a request.”

  “Come now, Miss Bennet, be reasonable. Given the honor of the position I have bestowed upon you, surely you may put off your tramping around the countryside as long as you are with us. Not only is it unladylike, but it is highly improper.”

  “How can walking be considered anything less than beneficial exercise?” asked Elizabeth. “I meet with no one in a clandestine fashion, and I am always careful to know where I am so that I will not unduly inconvenience anyone.”

  Lady Catherine sucked in a breath, no doubt to deliver a diatribe, when Miss de Bourgh once again surprised Elizabeth by speaking.

  “I wish for a friend and a confidant, Mama, not a nursemaid. I have no objections to Miss Bennet continuing her walks. Perhaps walking in the morning before I arise or in the afternoon when I nap would be acceptable.”

  Though Lady Catherine clearly wished to make more of an issue of the matter, in the end she nodded once, though with a curtness which spoke of her annoyance. For Elizabeth’s part, she observed Miss de Bourgh, noticing that her scrutiny was returned, and nodded slowly, which Miss de Bourgh returned. It was impossible to determine what Miss de Bourgh had thought of her late companion, but Elizabeth was certain she did not wish someone hovering about her as much as her mother seemed to think necessary.

  “Very well,” said Lady Catherine, though with little evident grace. “It is sufficient if you walk at those times. When we are sitting together in the evenings, you may attend to your own interests, as long as you are attentive whenever Anne requires it.”

  “Of course,” said Elizabeth, thinking it was little enough to make such a nebulous concession after she had carried her point.

  “Now, let us speak of your other duties.” What followed was as lengthy as the previous instructions had been and explained in minute detail exactly what Lady Catherine expected of Elizabeth. She spoke of Miss de Bourgh’s illnesses and what must be done to ameliorate them, how she must comport herself, now that she was living in a home so above what she had been accustomed, interspersed with a myriad of other details she seemed to think Elizabeth needed to know.

  These instructions Elizabeth felt free to ignore. Elizabeth had no intention of changing herself for Lady Catherine’s pleasure, or for anyone else. If Lady Catherine did not appreciate her obstinacy, she possessed the option of releasing her from this farce. Elizabeth, therefore, was more than pleased when the lady finally fell silent and excused herself to attend to some matters of the estate. But she was incapable of retreating without leaving some last few instructions.

  “I will leave you to become better acquainted. I suggest you use this time to your advantage, though perhaps the sitting-room would be a better venue for your discussion.”

  Then with a nod, the lady left the room.

  “I believe I will take the opportunity to retire, Miss Bennet,” said Miss de Bourgh as soon as her mother was gone. “You may have the rest of the afternoon to yourself. I will see you at dinner.”

  Then Miss de Bourgh also departed, leaving Elizabeth alone in the parlor. All bemused at the way the other two ladies had left her to her own devices�
��especially after Lady Catherine’s long instruction—Elizabeth thought about taking a constitutional in the gardens. She ultimately decided against it—though she had carried her point with the lady, Elizabeth did not think for a moment that her objections were at an end. For now, she thought it best to give Lady Catherine the compliment of not taxing her sensibilities.

  The first day of Elizabeth’s residence at Rosings Park proceeded in this fashion. After being dismissed, Elizabeth had returned to her room, where Tilly had already unpacked much of her belongings. Thus, it was only left for Elizabeth to rearrange some of her effects in a manner more to her liking. She then dismissed Tilly and spent the afternoon alternately reading a book of sonnets and indulging in an afternoon nap.

  That evening, she joined Lady Catherine and her daughter in the dining room for the evening meal. If Lady Catherine knew that Elizabeth had not spent the afternoon in company with her daughter, she made no mention of it, for which Elizabeth was grateful. As she had come to expect from the way Lady Catherine managed her house, dinner was an opulent affair, which might have been presented to a large party of close friends, for though there was not a large excess of food for their consumption, there was still a wide variety with the three courses.

  “We dine according to our station, Miss Bennet,” said Lady Catherine when Elizabeth made some comment of the fare. “Wealth is not without its privileges, and though I try to do as much for the neighborhood as I can, I appreciate the advantages I possess and enjoy them accordingly.”

  “I was not attempting to criticize,” replied Elizabeth.

  “I know you were not, child,” replied Lady Catherine, waving her comment away. “Our habits must be strange to you, as you have been raised in more humble circumstances, and what we do may seem like extravagance. But nothing at my table is allowed to go to waste. My servants eat the same meals as I do, and I pay them well to ensure their loyalty. Though I am conscious of the distinction of rank, I am also aware of the benefit of loyalty, and I go to great lengths to promote it in those I employ. To do otherwise would be a disruption in my home, and I will not risk my daughter’s health by promoting upheaval.”

  “It is clear you have been managing your estate for a great many years,” replied Elizabeth.

  “I have,” agreed Lady Catherine. “My husband did not live long after Anne’s birth. Rosings is her inheritance and my husband’s legacy. I take that very seriously.”

  The brief conversation caused Elizabeth to consider the lady. Though at present she had only Lady Catherine’s words as evidence, she wondered if she had perhaps misjudged the woman. She was proud and haughty, meddled in the affairs of others, was demanding and curt, but Elizabeth had not noticed any overt discontent in any of the ladies’ servants. In fact, if Tilly was anything to go by, her almost worshipful attitude toward the lady suggested that she was content in her position.

  After dinner, the ladies retreated to the music room where Elizabeth was asked to play for them. “It was in my mind to request the benefit of your talents the last time you dined here,” said Lady Catherine, referencing the night of the tragedy. “But circumstances dictated otherwise. Anne has not learned due to her health, and I never had any interest in the pianoforte, though I would have been a true proficient had I ever learned. Mrs. Jenkinson knew a little, but not enough to provide any true enjoyment. I hope your talents are more extensive.”

  “I would be happy to,” replied Elizabeth, “though I will allow you to judge for yourself. I will not call my talents capital, but I do possess some ability.”

  Thus, Elizabeth seated herself at the instrument and, after choosing some music with which she was familiar, began to play. Lady Catherine did her the honor of listening intently and not interrupting, and though Elizabeth was not certain what the lady thought of her playing, she did not think Lady Catherine was displeased. At the end of her song, she was certain she would hear the lady’s opinion.

  “You do play well, Miss Bennet,” said Lady Catherine when the tones of the pianoforte fell silent. “However, I believe you would benefit from additional practice, though I did note your choice of music as one fitting your abilities. That is as much of a talent as simply playing, for I have heard many young ladies attempt pieces above their abilities.”

  “I am quite familiar with my skills, Lady Catherine,” replied Elizabeth. “I have often seen the same as you describe, and it never reflects well on the performer.”

  Lady Catherine grunted. “Then you show some knowledge of yourself, which is always to be admired. Please, Miss Bennet, if you are willing, continue to play, for it is not often we are able to enjoy another’s talents

  “Perhaps if Georgiana visited more often we would have that pleasure,” said Miss de Bourgh in her typically quiet voice.

  “Yes. I shall tell Darcy to bring her when he and Fitzwilliam visit this spring.”

  The discussion pricked Elizabeth’s ears, and she played quietly, listening to the two ladies talk.

  “I doubt she will come,” replied Miss de Bourgh. “Even if she does, Darcy says she is too shy to perform in front of an audience.”

  “We are not an audience,” said Lady Catherine. “The girl must learn to do it, as it will be required when she comes out.”

  “She only needs a little more courage.”

  “She is a Darcy and a Fitzwilliam,” said Lady Catherine. “Courage is in her blood.”

  The ladies fell silent and Elizabeth kept playing. It was fortunate she had chosen to play an old favorite from memory, for she had no attention to devote to her playing. Instead, it was all centered on the brief conversation she had just overheard.

  This account of Miss Georgiana Darcy did not resemble what Mr. Wickham had told her. Though it was possible the girl had changed since Mr. Wickham had last seen her, Elizabeth was inclined to attribute the discrepancy to Lady Catherine herself. Georgiana Darcy might be haughty when in the presence of a steward’s son, and perhaps even when with her friends, but any young girl must be intimidated by the force of nature which was Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

  Regardless, as Elizabeth was not acquainted with the girl and never expected to be in her company, she put thoughts of her from her mind. She played for a time, and then sat in Miss de Bourgh’s company for the rest of the evening. As Elizabeth sank into her bed that night, she realized that the comfortable bed was one benefit to sleeping in Rosings, as opposed to Hunsford. One needed to acknowledge these little benefits when in a situation which was, overall, objectionable.

  Chapter IV

  It was not long before Elizabeth determined that acting as a companion to Miss de Bourgh was not an onerous endeavor—at least when considering the young woman herself. Miss de Bourgh was quiet, speaking softly when she did speak, and always with the utmost in composure and respect. And contrary to Lady Catherine’s assertions and what she might have expected from a woman who was accustomed to her station in life, Miss de Bourgh was not at all demanding.

  Elizabeth did not know how Miss de Bourgh expected her to behave, for she did not raise the subject herself. But she seemed to appreciate everything Elizabeth did, whether she was reading to her, speaking, playing for her enjoyment, or any other overture Elizabeth made.

  What she was not, however, was overly talkative—in fact, to say she was not inclined to much speech was akin to saying her mother sometimes voiced her opinion. Often, Elizabeth found herself with little to do but sit with the woman and occasionally ask after her comfort. In no way did Miss de Bourgh demand that Elizabeth behave as Mrs. Jenkinson had, and though Elizabeth often watched her for signs that she was cold or uncomfortable, she did not see them, and Miss de Bourgh never requested her to hover as her previous companion had. Thus, the fact that Mrs. Jenkinson had always treated Miss de Bourgh like a mother hen could be attributed to Lady Catherine’s influence.

  “Are you well, Miss de Bourgh?” asked Elizabeth of the woman one night after dinner. Miss de Bourgh had been sitt
ing with a book in hand, but Elizabeth had been watching her, and she had not turned a single page in the previous fifteen minutes. Her handkerchief, which she carried with her wherever she went, had been pressed against her face, though Elizabeth had not noticed any evidence of sniffles or any other such malady, and she had thought she had heard a sigh from the other woman. As was Elizabeth’s custom, she spoke quietly so as to avoid provoking Lady Catherine’s scrutiny, and as the lady was seated at an escritoire on the other side of the room writing letters, Elizabeth thought she could speak quietly without the lady noticing.

  “I am well, Miss Bennet,” said Miss de Bourgh. “You do not need to inquire every time I use my handkerchief. If I had wanted another Mrs. Jenkinson as a companion, I would have agreed to any one of the ladies who applied to my mother for the position.”

  The words were spoken softly and without malice; otherwise Elizabeth might have been tempted to be offended by them. “I had not meant to offend, Miss de Bourgh,” replied Elizabeth. “I merely thought to ask after your comfort.”

  Miss de Bourgh nodded. “I know. But your attention is not required in this instance.”

  It was better to avoid replying, so Elizabeth only returned to her book, which she was reading, and tried to put the thought of Miss de Bourgh out of her mind. She was not successful.

  The occasion underscored how Elizabeth did not know what to think of the woman. She was not demanding, but she was often surly and cross, and though she did not berate Elizabeth like Lady Catherine might be expected to do, neither did she seem interested in the kind of friendship Elizabeth would have thought should exist between companion and mistress. Elizabeth was not able to understand the woman’s frailty either. She rarely did anything strenuous, and she seemed content to just coast along on the currents of life without being a participant. Even the woman’s phaeton, contrary to what Lady Catherine had said, was used sparingly.