Page 38 of Such Low Connections

“Well then, let us expect great things from Mr Wickham once Mary King’s fortune removes these constraints,” suggested Charlotte, amused. “And are your sisters still chasing the militia officers?”

“Lydia and Kitty never cease,” Elizabeth groaned. “Mother is almost as bad and only encourages them in their foolish behaviour. There will be no hope of an end to it until the regiment removes to Brighton in the summer. But enough of my news; tell me more of Lady Catherine. From your letters, it seems you are regularly at Rosings Park.”

“Whenever Lady Catherine requires amusement or more players to make up a card table,” returned Charlotte. “It always pleases William immensely to be invited, and Lady Catherine is indeed a most generous patroness.”

“But how have you really found her?” Elizabeth probed. “Your letters told me only what I had already heard from Mr Collins. What is your own opinion?”

“Lady Catherine de Bourgh is a great lady and very much the strongest voice in the neighbourhood,” Charlotte told her. “I should not like to cross her, I can tell you. I imagine she could be as vicious in resentment or revenge on the undeserving as she is generous and interested in bestowing grace and charity on those in her favour.”

“Perhaps that is a family trait,” Elizabeth commented. “Mr Darcy too seems capable of vicious revenge, if Mr Wickham’s case is anything to judge by. But do not worry, I shall be perfectly amiable if I am invited to Rosings Park. I shall be careful to do nothing that could discredit you in Lady Catherine’s eyes.”

“That is good to hear, for I am sure you will all be invited to Rosings,” Charlotte said. “Lady Catherine has shown the greatest interest in this visit, including in you, Lizzy. I am sure she will have many questions. I shall warn you now that Lady Catherine is not always delicate in her inquiries. You may be put to some trouble to keep the promise you have just made.”

∞∞∞

True to Charlotte’s prediction, the entire party at Hunsford Parsonage was honoured with an invitation to tea at Rosings Park the very next afternoon, with a carriage sent to collect them at three o’clock. Maria Lucas was in a state of nervous agitation at the thought of meeting Lady Catherine de Bourgh, her naturally anxious disposition sharpened further by all Mr Collins’s instructions on expectations and manners.

While less nervous than his youngest daughter, Sir William was keen to show himself at best advantage before his son-in-law’s patroness and spent some minutes at the hallway mirror adjusting his stock and buttons while Mr Collins consulted his pocket watch repeatedly and hopped from one foot to another, terrified of even a minute’s lateness in their arrival.

Charlotte and Elizabeth, meanwhile, shared a smile of good-humoured anticipation in the mirror as Elizabeth stepped forward beside Sir William to adjust her bonnet ribbon.

“Come, come, everyone. We must make haste to the carriage,” Mr Collins urged, no longer able to restrain himself. “Lady Catherine has no great concern with the dress of her social inferiors as long as they are respectful, Sir William, Cousin Elizabeth. Tardiness, however, she cannot abide.”

Elizabeth let Charlotte take her arm and walked with her to the Rosings Park coach. She was looking forward to finally meeting Lady Catherine in the flesh and being able to later report her experiences back to her father and Jane.

Sir William and Maria took their places first on the far side of the coach, followed inside by Elizabeth, Charlotte and Mr Collins. While his in-laws were occupied in looking out of the window at the Kent landscape, Mr Collins looked to both his wife and cousin with rather a conspiratorial expression.

“Cousin Elizabeth,” he began in a low voice that both piqued her curiosity and made her want to laugh, an instinct she resisted out of respect for Charlotte.

“Yes, Mr Collins?” Elizabeth answered in an equally low tone.

“I am sure that your discretion would prohibit the mention of inappropriate matters at Rosings Park,” Mr Collins said seriously, and Elizabeth nodded with equal gravity.

“I am sure we will all be most careful in our manners and conversation,” she assured him.

“In particular,” he emphasised, his eyes great with the import of the subject, “I must warn you that Lady Catherine knows nothing of the evil rumours about her nephew. I have been exceedingly careful not to let anything slip in recent months. It would be most distressing for Lady Catherine, and it is also often the messenger who suffers from the transmission of ill-tidings.”

“You have done very well to refrain from any such discussion, my dear,” Charlotte stepped in. “The metaphor about shooting the messenger is an apt one. At the same time, I cannot help suspecting that Lady Catherine is well aware of the gossip, but chooses not to dignify it by addressing it.”

Unless Lady Catherine was a complete recluse, Elizabeth imagined that Charlotte was correct. Unwillingly updated by Lydia and their mother, Elizabeth knew that the rumours about Mr Darcy had gathered pace and substance since Christmas. They had now been referenced in several London scandal sheets, and while Mr Darcy’s full name and address had not been published, enough detail had been included to make him recognisable to any common acquaintance.

In the pause that followed Charlotte’s intervention. Elizabeth wondered how Mr Collins would take to being contradicted. She need not have worried, however. Charlotte was a clever woman and already understood her husband well.

“You are quite right, my dear Charlotte. Such nastiness is beneath the dignity of a noble lady like Lady Catherine. I cannot imagine she would even have scandal sheets in her house. Her behaviour in this case should be an example to all of us.”

“So it shall be,” Elizabeth assured him. “I shall say not a word on the subject, believe me. Indeed, I intend to say as little of Fitzwilliam Darcy as possible, since this would suit everyone equally.”

Their conversation ended there as the first sight of Rosings Park came into view through the window.

“Rosings Park!” exclaimed Mr Collins. In his excitement, he stood to point at the impressive building, but was abruptly thrown back into his seat at the next rocking of the coach.

At this small accident, Elizabeth could not prevent a peal of laughter, but she managed to turn it into an echo of her cousin’s joy.

“Rosings Park!” she repeated and squeezed Charlotte’s hand with a smile.

∞∞∞

Elizabeth’s stated intention of saying as little as possible on the subject of Fitzwilliam Darcy was quickly scotched on entering the drawing room where Lady Catherine de Bourgh was awaiting the presentation of their party.