For my part, I too am looking forward to meeting her. My reason is not the same, and knowing me as you do, you would be able to guess that I am interested to see if she is as pompous and ridiculous as Mr Collins described her. You know how much I love to sketch characters. Before you admonish me, I will be polite, Janey, I swear it. If I want to make fun of her, it will be silently, and only to myself.
It will be no big surprise to you that Sir William related the story of his knighting and investiture at St James’s Palace no less than three times during our journey. Once after each stop we made to rest the horses and take refreshments. Do you think he forgets he told the story a few hours before, or does he just enjoy telling it over, over, and over again? Other than his foible of always wanting to retell the same story, I like Sir William as much as I ever have. I see no harm in him.
I am sorry, Dearest, that Sir William decided to go directly to Kent and not via London. I will have to wait to see you on my return.
When we arrived at the parsonage a little after three that afternoon, Charlotte and our cousin were waiting for us just outside of their front door, in the drive. I suppose that Charlotte is also our cousin now. I must admit that thought cheers me.
Before I describe the parsonage, I must recount a conversation I had with our father beforedeparting Longbourn. I had asked him if he thought that Charlotte’s being Mr Collins’s wife will help those dependent on Longbourn once Papa is called home to God. He was rather cryptic. All he said was, ‘that will not be an issue’ and when I asked him for clarification, he said we would speak about it another time as he waved me away and returned to his book. I know not what he meant, and our father was not in a mood to elucidate.
Now, back to Charlotte’s home. It is a cosy house, and our friend is very happy here. Whether she is as happy with her choice of husband, I know not. It is a one-storey structure built with an almost grey stone, the same colour as the church, which is but a few yards past one side of the house.
On the ground level is a dining parlour, our cousin’s study (which faces the lane so he can always see who is coming and going), a parlour and a sitting room at the rear of the house—Charlotte claims this room for her particular use. The kitchen and scullery are in the cellar. On the first floor are four bedchambers. Two belong to the master and mistress of the house, while I have another, which I will share with Maria for 3 days until Sir William returns to Meryton on Friday morning. The attics hold room for the 2 female servants. The cook and housekeeper in one person lives in a cottage with her husband, who acts as a manservant at the parsonage when needed.
Charlotte does not see Mr Collins very much, except for meals. When he is not running to Rosings Park or busy with his parish duties, she encourages him to go and work in the garden.
Since the moment I arrived, Mr Collins has gone out of his wayin an attempt to make me regret what I missed when I refused his proposal. It does not affect me, but I can see how it mortifies Charlotte when he attempts to do that. I feel bad for her, but she married him knowing how ridiculous he could be.
This morning I walked out from the parsonage. Oh, Jane, I am so happy! There are groves that are part of Rosings Park, and they have been allowed to grow as nature intended. I walked for more than an hour before I returned to break my fast. Even Mr Collins’s bad table manners and the inanities he spewed could not spoil my mood. After the meal, our cousin went to transact parish business, and while Sir William rested, Charlotte, Maria, and I enjoyed ourselves in our friend’s sitting room.
When Mr Collins returned, he was almost jumping up and down with excitement as he related the ‘great condescension’ his patroness showed when inviting the whole party for dinner. I am not sure who was more excited, our cousin, Sir William or Maria.
Before he went to his study, Mr Collins addressed me. He said: ‘Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousin, about your apparel. Lady Catherine is far from requiring that elegance of dress in us which becomes herself and her daughter. I would advise you merely to put on whatever of your clothes is superior to the rest, as there is no occasion for anything more. Lady Catherine will not think the worse of you for being simply dressed. She likes to have the distinction of rank preserved.’ You will be proud of me, Janey; I bit my tongue and did not respond with some impertinent rebuttal as I so desired to do.
I expect to be greatly diverted at dinner. In my next letter, I will tell you all. Please convey my warmest regards to the Gardiners.
With love for my dearest sister and best friend,
Lizzy
Jane could not help but smile as she read Lizzy’s words. Lizzy had always been a fierce protector and would do anything she could to cheer Jane if she needed it.
When she thought of the call by the sisters, Jane knew one thing. Aunt Maddie’s response would have been termed mild compared to Lizzy’s.
That led to more uncomfortable thoughts. How was it Lizzy would do anything to protect her, yet, when Mama denigrated Lizzy, Jane never spoke up in defence of her younger sister? The answer Jane arrived at did not comfort her.
Admittedly through a sardonic eye, Lizzy saw the world as it was, while thanks to her wanting everything and everyone to be good, Jane saw what she wanted to see and what she needed to see. More and more, she was coming to the realisation that it was time for a change of her personal philosophy.
Chapter 4
Aunt Maddie was with the children, and Uncle Edward was at work, so Jane was alone in the drawing room. She had tried to make some repairs to her cousins’ clothing to save her aunt the work, but Jane found that of late, whenever she was on her own, her mind was far too busy thinking about the way she viewed the world to concentrate on anything else.
Lizzy’s last letter describing the ostentatious—she called it gaudy—décor of Rosings Park that Mr Collins gushed over and, in her words, the ridiculousness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and the intrusive questions that lady had asked Lizzy had only distracted Jane from her thoughts momentarily.
As she sat in an armchair in the drawing room, Jane was deep in thought. Her right hand was resting on one of the armrests while her left hand was worrying her lips, something she often did when in contemplation. Her hair was in a loose bun on top of her head with small, wispy curls on either side of her face in front of her ears, while more strands ran down her neck. Not expecting any callers, Jane had donned a simple light blue day dress that morning. She was looking off into the distance, not at anything in particular.
Jane thought about when she was a young girl and when she had begun to tell herself that the world was good and so were all of those in it. For many years, she had shut out the arguments between her parents into a part of her memories at which she refused to look. Now, she saw the visions and could remember that she had adopted her serene mask and the wayshe looked only for the good and refused to see the bad as a way to protect herself from the acrimony she had witnessed between her parents. As each successive sister had been born, Jane remembered that the relationship between her parents had only deteriorated further.
Then Lydia had been born when Jane was eight, and after that Mama could not have more children. She asked herself a question now which she had not dared to ask before: Why did Mama resent Lizzy, Mary, and to a lesser extent Kitty, for being born girls but not herself and Lydia?
Why her and Lydia… Then, it hit Jane. She remembered an argument between her parents when she had been fourteen and Lydia six.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Longbourn June 1802
Bennet found his wife in her private sitting room. “Mrs Bennet, I am tired of you ignoring Lizzy, Mary, and Kitty. Do you think I do not know that you still hold Lizzy accountable for not being born a boy? Should we go to see Mr Pierce and tell him that you think God made an error when He gave us Lizzy?” Bennet was so angry that he needed to get involved. He much preferred the sanctuary of his study, but he was not heartless, and he could not ignore Lizzy’s crying when her mother had once again berated her for nothing at all.
“You cannot do that; I will be ostracised by our friends,” Fanny responded in panic. She was not an intelligent woman, but even she understood what the consequences would be if word got out that she was questioning God’s wisdom. ‘I promise I will be better.”
