“These are your father’s lands?” asked Anne.
Turning to regard her, Elizabeth noted Anne looking about, though with how much interest she could not say. “The lands to the west,” Elizabeth pointed to her left, “belong to my father, whereas that to the right belongs to Lucas Lodge. Sir William is Charlotte’s father.”
“Oh yes, of course,” said Anne, though appearing to care little. “These are notlargeestates, then.”
“Longbourn is the largest in the district,” supplied Jane, “except for Netherfield, which is north of Lucas Lodge.”
Anne sniffed with disdain. “Rosings Park, my family estate, must be much larger, for one cannot walk the entire length of it in a single day.”
As Elizabeth could attest herself, itwaspossible, though it would take much longer than even she usually liked to roam. It would not be politic to make such a comment to Anne, who was appearing more like her mother every minute. She could imagine Lady Catherine making just such a statement and with not a jot more haughtiness than Anne had just displayed.
“Then this Netherfield shares a border with your father’s estate?” asked Anne.
“A long border,” said Elizabeth. “I often walk my father’s estate, especially north of the house which is far more extensive than the lands to the south, and one path in particular takes me along the border with Netherfield to a rise that boasts a fine view of Netherfield’s lands below.”
Anne regarded her with interest, her arrogance again gone for the moment. “Then what my mother often said of your propensity to ramble all over the estate is the truth.”
“I own it without disguise,” said Elizabeth. “For I am fond of walking, both for the exercise it offers and the time it allows me to enjoy the beauties of nature.”
The response of a sniff of disdain did not surprise Elizabeth in the slightest. “I much prefer my phaeton.”
“Yes, I can imagine touring Rosings with a phaeton must be fine, indeed,” said Elizabeth. “But you must confess there is not much exercise in such an endeavor, except for your trusty horse.”
“That is something I never considered,” replied Anne, frowning at the notion. “My mother has often said that walking is for the lower classes.”
Elizabeth laughed at the absurdity of such a statement. “If you will pardon my saying it, that is nonsensical. Everyone must walk, for we do so every day unless we are bedridden.”
“I enjoy walking too,” said Jane in her usually quiet tones. “While I do not range nearly so far as Lizzy, it is refreshing to take a turn in the gardens behind Longbourn.”
“Does your father’s estate boast extensive gardens?” asked Anne, seeming curious.
“Not nearly so extensive as those at Rosings,” replied Elizabeth. “Rosings is a much greater estate than Longbourn, so that is no surprise. Itisrather smaller than you are accustomed to, but we enjoy it nonetheless.”
The way Anne regarded her, Elizabeth suspected she had never considered it in such a way. To one born and raised in privilege, the way they lived must be superior to all other ways of life, if they could imagine other customs at all. As sheltered as Lady Catherine had raised her daughter, Elizabeth knew they were confronting her with the differences for perhaps the firsttime.
“My mother said that your father’s estate will devolve to Mr. Collins by an entail.”
“That it will,” was Elizabeth’s cheerful reply.
Anne regarded her with curiosity. “Then why did you not accept Mr. Collins’s proposal? Would the prospect of living the rest of your life in the home you have always known appeal to you?”
“There are several fallacies in your suggestion,” replied Elizabeth. At Anne’s look, part interest part demand, she continued: “First, my father might live for many more years, so I would not live the rest of my life at Longbourn should I marry Mr. Collins.”
“Yes,” said Anne with a frown. “In that, I suppose you must be correct.”
“The second reason is more of a matter of temper and preferences,” said Elizabeth. “Mr. Collins and I do not suit as life partners.”
“And you suppose Mrs. Collins is a match for her husband?”
“That is a matter for her to decide, which she has done.” There was little reason to say that Elizabeth held any notion that Mr. Collins could be a match for Charlotte as absurd, but she did not wish to say so to this woman. “When she made her position clear, all I could do was congratulate her and wish her well.”
“Which you did because you are an excellent friend,” said Anne with a nod. She paused a moment and then ventured: “In all honesty, I do not consider my mother’s parson to be an impressive specimen.”
Elizabeth almost choked on her tongue with the need to laugh; it was nothing less than an extreme understatement. Had Anne offered it in any other manner, she might have suspected her of an attempt at dry humor. Anne’s next words proved any such supposition incorrect with no ambiguity.
“I understand your position, Elizabeth, but a marriage is more than simply temperament. If you will excuse me, I suspect your position is not a fortunate one. By marrying your cousin, would that not have provided for your mother and sisters?”
“When you say it in such terms, I cannot disagree,” said Elizabeth amiably. “Some may call my sensibilities foolish. Yet I have always considered an unequal marriage to be the greatest evil, for the man you marry is one you must endure all your life if you make an erroneous decision.”
