Chaos Comes To Kent Read online

  “Last autumn my family made the acquaintance of a Mr. Darcy from Derbyshire,” replied Elizabeth. “He travelled to Hertfordshire with his friend, Mr. Bingley, to stay with him at Mr. Bingley’s leased estate near my home. Can he be the same man?”

  A sudden grimace overtook Miss de Bourgh, and she appeared to be tasting something sour. “Yes,” said she, though the words almost seemed to be expelled with great reluctance, “that is he. Though I have told him time and time again that he should not associate with such men as Mr. Bingley, he has not taken my advice.”

  “There is nothing wrong with Mr. Bingley, Anne.” Lady Catherine’s tone was reproving. “He is an amiable gentleman, one seeking to establish himself in society, which is a credit to him.”

  “He is naught but new money,” replied Miss de Bourgh. Her nose had climbed even higher in the air, and Elizabeth had to stifle a laugh at the woman’s blatant pride. She then turned back to Elizabeth and said in a voice filled with self-congratulation: “Darcy returns to see me, you see. For we have been engaged for many years, and I expect him to formalize our engagement this year.”

  “Formalize an engagement that already exists?” asked Elizabeth, baffled at the other woman’s assertion.

  “It is a strange sort of engagement, Miss Elizabeth. My mother and his planned our union from the time when we were in our cradles. Darcy has simply had other matters to attend to before we could meet at the altar. But he is dutiful and so very fond of me, and I do not doubt that our union shall come to fruition this year.”

  Elizabeth was about to say something when she happened to catch sight of Lady Catherine out of the corner of her eye. The lady had grimaced and was shaking her head, and Elizabeth was certain it was in response to her daughter’s declaration. Was Miss de Bourgh perhaps wishing for something that did not exist? This talk of a cradle betrothal was odd, especially since Lady Catherine did not seem to believe in its existence.

  “Then I wish you the best in it,” said Elizabeth, deciding that it would best promote harmony to simply agree with the woman. Besides, it would not be good manners to contradict her when she knew nothing of the situation.

  “Thank you, Miss Elizabeth,” said Miss de Bourgh, her nose firmly in the air. “I do not doubt we shall do very well together. Breeding always runs true. My cousin and I are descended from the same noble line on our mothers’ side, and our union shall create one of the wealthiest dynasties in all England.”

  Miss de Bourgh’s self-congratulations did not finish there—in fact, the woman went on at some length about her expectations, her certainty that her cousin was as committed to the marriage as she was herself, and the power she would wield once she finally became Mrs. Darcy. It smelled very strongly of wishful thinking, but Elizabeth knew it was not for her to attempt to disabuse the woman of her fantasies.

  It was not long before Elizabeth grew tired of Miss de Bourgh’s conversation, and at the first opportunity she turned to Jane who was nearby. “What do you make of this news that Mr. Darcy and his cousin are to come?”

  “It sounds like a longstanding engagement, Lizzy.” Jane turned a piercing look on Elizabeth—she did not do it often, but on occasion Elizabeth thought her sister was looking straight through her. “Surely you are not bothered by the news that Mr. Darcy will come here. You cannot still hold a grudge against him, I am certain.”

  With a shake of her head, Elizabeth said: “Indeed, I do not, Jane. I will own that I was annoyed with Mr. Darcy for his words about me at the assembly, but I have learned to be philosophical about it, despite his rudeness.”

  “He was the model of propriety thereafter,” observed Jane.

  “That he was,” replied Elizabeth. Then she laughed. “In fact, I distinctly remember an occasion at Sir William’s party not long after the assembly, when Mr. Darcy made up for his prior refusal and asked me to dance.”

  “He did?” asked a surprised Jane. “You never told me of it!”

  “At the time, I did not think much of it. If you recall, Kitty and Lydia drew some of the officers aside to dance, and since they were laughing and carrying on, I thought to have a word to prevent them from exposing us to ridicule. But as I approached them, Sir William intercepted me and recommended me as a partner to Mr. Darcy, and he obliged by requesting my hand.”

  “It is clear you refused him,” said Jane. “I do not remember you dancing with him, and surely Mama would have spoken of it.”

  “I did not think his application was serious,” said Elizabeth, thinking back on the event. “He did so only at Sir William’s suggestion, and you know how Sir William is. We received word soon after that Mr. Darcy had departed Netherfield for London, and he never returned.”

  Elizabeth paused, thinking of the man she had known for only an abbreviated time, and then turned back to Jane feeling more than a little mischievous. “You know, I always wondered what might have happened had Mr. Darcy been at Netherfield when you fell ill and I came to nurse you. At the time, as you know, I harbored few charitable feelings about him—we might have argued the entirety of the five days!”

  “I doubt that, Lizzy,” said Jane, though she smiled at Elizabeth’s playfulness. “Mr. Darcy is far too well bred to argue with a lady.”

  “If he even considered me a lady,” replied Elizabeth.

  The two girls laughed and turned to other topics. But inside, Elizabeth continued to consider the matter of Mr. Darcy. She had not thought of the man in months and her feelings for him at this point were dispassionate. He had struck her as a proud man at their first meeting, but Jane was correct that he had behaved with perfect propriety thereafter. He could hardly disapprove of the Bennet sisters—at least openly—when they were guests of his aunt’s. She was not sure what his coming would bring, but she could at least look at the prospect with mild curiosity.

  Chapter IV

  The first few days of the Bennet sisters’ stay at Rosings Park passed away in peace, and the sisters settled into their unaccustomed surroundings. Elizabeth was treated to her every expectation of finding serenity and beauty on Rosings’ grounds, and she took every opportunity to partake in them. The sisters—particularly Jane and Elizabeth—were careful to attend to their hostess in gratitude for her generosity in hosting them. Kitty and Lydia appeared immersed in their own activities—not once had Elizabeth suspected that Lydia would take to the pianoforte, of all things, though she knew that Kitty had sketched on occasion—so her worries for their behavior were largely put to rest when they were so carefully overseen by Mrs. Jenkinson. And that Sunday when they had attended church, Mr. Collins proved that his style of sermonizing was as ponderous as she had expected.

  “Yes, it is beautiful, though I own it myself,” said Lady Catherine one day when Elizabeth complimented her on her home. “Have you given any thought to my suggestion of riding to see some of the more distant sights? I would be happy to accompany you.”

  “Not yet, your ladyship,” replied Elizabeth. “There is still so much beauty to be explored in the immediate area of the house that I do not feel any need to range any further away at present.”

  “In the immediate area of the house?” repeated Lady Catherine, raising an eyebrow. “The servants have informed me that you will often leave the house and will not return for an hour or two after. Surely you are ranging further than the back garden.”

  “And has your ladyship set the footmen to watch me wherever I go?” asked Elizabeth, tilting an eyebrow at Lady Catherine. By now she felt secure enough with Lady Catherine’s character that she felt her ladyship would not be offended by a little archness in her manner.

  As she expected, Lady Catherine only laughed. “Not to spy on you, of course. But the footmen have been asked to keep an eye out, for you must own that it is somewhat unusual for a young woman to walk out by herself. If Rosings were not such a peaceful location, I might even be concerned for your safety.”

  Surprised, Elizabeth said: “But I have walked the pat
hs near my father’s estate for some years and never experienced any difficulties. Surely Kent is not much different.”

  “You are correct. We live in a peaceful land. But you must own that there are still bandits aplenty and others of less than high moral character. I would not expect to find them in such a location as this, but one can never know.

  “Regardless, I did not mean to censure you for your habits. Walking, as you have noted, is quite beneficial, and I have come to understand that you are an active sort of person.” Lady Catherine paused and looked at Elizabeth through serious eyes. “I visit tenants on occasion, and I would be happy for your company, if you would consent to it.”

  “I would be happy to, Lady Catherine,” said Elizabeth. She was pleased the lady thought enough of her to suggest her attendance.

  “Excellent. Now, if you have some moments, I should like to speak with you.”

  “You have something particular to say?”

  Lady Catherine shook her head. “More, I would wish to understand more about you and about your knowledge of my nephew, as you have mentioned that you have already made his acquaintance.”

  “Yes, I have,” said Elizabeth. For all that Lady Catherine was an amiable and helpful sort of woman, she was also rather forthright, and Elizabeth suspected she would have no trouble demanding that which she wished to know.

  “And how did you find him? Darcy is a good man, but sometimes he is a little aloof in company.”

  “I did find him so,” said Elizabeth, speaking slowly, attempting to put her feelings—her past feelings—for Mr. Darcy in a diplomatic way. “He is clearly a capable man, and we did hear some information of his position in society. But he never displayed himself to be a man who would indulge in frivolous conversation or speak unnecessarily.”

  Lady Catherine shook her head. “I dare say that Darcy did not display himself to best advantage, given what you are telling me.” When Elizabeth tried to protest, her ladyship only put up a hand. “I can see you are trying to be diplomatic about Darcy’s behavior, but I am well acquainted with his ways. His father was a good and generous man, and he taught his son to be likewise. But for all Robert Darcy’s struggles in society, I believe his son experiences even more difficulty, in part due to my sister’s early death.”

  “I did not wish to give you the impression I was censuring your nephew, Lady Catherine,” Elizabeth hastened to say. “Yes, he was aloof, and at times he appeared to consider himself above his company. But I do not think anyone in Hertfordshire thought any true harm of him.”

  “That is good, for he is truly the best of men.” Lady Catherine paused and regarded Elizabeth for a moment, her expression knowing. “You will pardon me if I am overstepping, my dear, by I sense there is something you are not telling me. Did you have difficulty with my nephew in particular?”

  “No!” exclaimed Elizabeth. “Mr. Darcy was everything that was gentlemanly.”

  “You do not need to dissemble. Darcy somehow manages to offend nearly everywhere he goes. In fact, when I mentioned his name to your mother the last time I spoke with her, she said something to the effect that you were not good enough for him. Now, what did he say?”

  Cheeks blooming with embarrassment, Elizabeth searched for a way to put Lady Catherine off without relating the entirety of the incident at the assembly, but the lady looked at her in such a way as to make evasion impossible. Knowing the lady would hear all and would likely apply to her mother if Elizabeth was not explicit, she sighed and nodded her head.

  “During the assembly at which I first made Mr. Darcy’s acquaintance, I was sitting out a dance, as gentlemen were scarce and I was in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy was standing nearby when his friend approached him and demanded he dance. Through the course of their discussion, when Mr. Darcy refused and Mr. Bingley insisted, he made a comment which, at the time, offended me.”

  “And what was that?”

  “He told his friend that he had no intention of dancing with a young woman who was snubbed by other men, and that I was not nearly pretty enough to induce him to overlook such a slight.”

  Elizabeth raised her chin and dared Lady Catherine to find fault with her for saying as much, but the lady only shook her head. “Oh, Darcy,” said she, “you truly do have a talent for saying the worst things without thinking about them in advance. I have never heard of such incivility.”

  “I believe he was out of sorts that evening,” said Elizabeth. “I never had a reason to find fault with him after, though the aloofness I mentioned remained unaltered. He was not in Meryton long before he returned to London.”

  “Yes, I heard of his abbreviated stay with his friend.” Lady Catherine paused and then shot Elizabeth a grin. “Part of his reason for leaving was to see his sister, who had suffered a disappointment not long before, and part was because he simply cannot abide Miss Bingley.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “That I can well imagine, though I am sorry to hear of Miss Darcy’s misfortune. I hope she is recovered.”

  “To a great extent, I believe she is.” Lady Catherine paused and shook her head. “I wished for Darcy to bring his sister when he and his cousin visit, but for some reason Georgiana finds me intimidating. She prefers to stay in London with her masters rather than spend Easter in Kent.”

  “Then that must be the reason for Mr. Darcy’s behavior. After he left, I thought about what happened for some time, and I decided there was no reason to cling to my offense. It has been some time since I thought of him at all until your daughter mentioned that you were expecting him.”

  “He and his cousin will be arriving the Monday before Easter. I hope you will not be made uncomfortable by his coming.”

  “Not at all!” protested Elizabeth. “At the very least, I can state that Mr. Darcy is an intelligent man, and I have no doubt he will add much interest to our party. If I was made uncomfortable, it would be my responsibility to remove myself to the parsonage. He is your nephew, after all, whereas I am nothing but a cousin of your parson.”

  “Excellent,” said Lady Catherine. “I believe meeting Darcy in more familiar surroundings will show you another side of his character. I anticipate the company very much, indeed.”

  They then parted, but Elizabeth found herself thinking about Lady Catherine’s interrogation for some time after. The news that Mr. Darcy was coming did not affect her at all, though she would own to a little curiosity about whether he would behave differently from the manner he had last autumn. Of the prospect of meeting Colonel Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth was curious—she had never met a member of the nobility, other than Lady Catherine herself, of course.

  But in the back of her mind, Elizabeth wondered about Lady Catherine’s questions. She seemed to have some . . . interest in the matter of her opinions about Mr. Darcy, though Elizabeth could not think of what it could possibly be. In the end, she decided that it was nothing more than wishing to ensure that harmony would continue to exist in her home when her nephews arrived. That decided, Elizabeth resolved to think on it no more.

  Lady Anne Darcy had died more than twelve years earlier, and Lady Catherine had never felt such anguish, such heartrending grief as when her sister had slipped away in the night. No two sisters could have been so close as they, and though marriage, children, and responsibilities had separated them more often than not, their bond had never weakened, never faded. The barrage of letters passing back and forth between the two estates had persisted through the days of their marriages, as the sisters had exchanged confidences, news, and even the occasional bit of gossip through mail. Even the death of her dear husband had not affected Lady Catherine to the same degree as losing her sister had.

  When the pain of her loss had finally settled into the dull ache of longing, Lady Catherine had decided that she would take up her niece and nephew’s cause, to be as a much mother to them as she could be. She loved her brother’s children too—Colonel Fitzwilliam, in particular, was a favorite due to his irrepressible spirits
and good humor—but her sister’s children were all she had left of the woman herself. Perhaps it was not laudable, but for that fact alone she favored Fitzwilliam and Georgiana.

  Lady Catherine could not be prouder of how Anne’s children had grown to be a credit to her. Darcy was a good man, a conscientious master, and a tower of strength, both within the family and in the community in which he lived. It was true that he also tended toward arrogance and standoffishness, and, at times, he could be positively rude, but it was the heart that mattered, and Darcy’s heart was the largest Lady Catherine had ever seen. And Georgiana, though she was still shy as a mouse, was beginning to show signs of confidence, which Lady Catherine was certain would blossom, making the girl a beautiful woman, beloved by all. Yes, they had made her proud.

  But there was something missing. Darcy was now eight and twenty and unmarried. Lady Catherine was convinced that should he marry the right woman, he would be happy, and his sister would have a woman near her own age to guide her, not only in society, but in life. Well, Lady Catherine knew she had found that woman, and she meant to make certain Darcy did not allow the chance at happiness pass him by.

  Consequently, she had sent a note that morning to the parsonage, requesting Mrs. Bennet attend her at Rosings. The woman was desperate to marry her children to eligible men, and Darcy and Fitzwilliam both were all that was eligible. It was fortunate that the children were so well suited and that their interests coincided so perfectly.

  As Mrs. Bennet sat across from her, Lady Catherine thought about how to best approach the matter. If she went about it the wrong way, the woman would no doubt begin proclaiming the matches for all the world to hear, no doubt ruining everything in the process. Mrs. Bennet, kind soul though she was, was not the most discerning. Lady Catherine knew she would have to make sure the woman attempted subtlety. Darcy could be obstinate when he thought he was being directed, and she had no doubt Miss Elizabeth was his match in that regard. Fitzwilliam and Miss Bennet would be easier to manage, which was useful, as Lady Catherine was certain they were also well suited. There was no point in Miss Bennet’s waiting for that Bingley fellow, for he was simply still too young and green to take a wife, particularly one as gentle as Miss Bennet. Mr. Bingley was naught but a puppy, and that harpy of a sister of his would rule them both with an iron fist should they marry.