However, his hectic life has its advantages. It gives us ample time alone, particularly now Sir William has gone home, which we spend exploring the area, meeting Charlotte’s new acquaintances, or taking leisurely walks around Rosings—Charlotte has been offered the great privilege of using the park for her walks.
I can tell you without any trace of mockery that Rosings is indeed a majestic place. It is not to my taste as I like modernity; however, it is still elegant, scrupulously maintained, and impressive, set within a vast, enchanting park that will come alive as soon as spring arrives.
We have been invited to dine there once, and I had the opportunity to admire the inside of the house. Despite her overbearing nature and her evident disdain for commoners, Lady Catherine is an excellent mistress. Everything under hercontrol runs perfectly—the house, the gardens, and the estate, which I learnt encompasses all the land around Hunsford. It is curious that this lady, whom I cannot say I particularly like, serves as the most striking example of a woman capable of performing activities reserved for men. It was not difficult to discover her ‘accomplishments’ during the two hours of dinner, during which she and Mr Collins spoke solely of her ladyship’s achievements. And, with relative surprise, I noticed that Charlotte regarded Lady Catherine in the same adoring manner as her husband did.
In the end, it provides the answer to my question. Affection remains in our friendship, but our deep connection has vanished. I must confess that I am saddened by this realisation. However, this is the reality of life, where friendships may go cold, and men you love may disappoint.
But, dear aunt, I have other news to share, and I can almost hear your reproach for not beginning with it, yet my reasons are easy to explain. Upon returning to my room, I considered asking for a carriage to take me to London. Still, as I began to write this letter, I decided to remain here, and I trust you will approve of my decision.
In a most enthusiastic manner, Mr Collins announced that Lady Catherine would receive guests in the coming days. I admit I nearly choked on my dinner when he revealed the names of the guests—Mr Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, who is Mr Darcy’s cousin, and Miss Darcy, Mr Darcy’s sister!
Imagine my surprise and frustration at the same time!
As I said, I wanted to leave at first, to ask my uncle for the promised carriage to take me to you, but the thought of Miss Darcy stopped me. I wrote to you about how astonished I was when her brother compared us, saying that, beyond her shyness, she was a young woman like me—determined and with modern views.
For once, I resolved to act wisely and consider Jane’s interests. This new situation presents a genuine opportunity to learn more of Mr Bingley. I hope that Miss Darcy knows more about him.
I shall stay for a while, dear aunt, and endeavour to understand the events of last November. Certainly, Jane has not forgotten Mr Bingley. We must find a way for her to close this chapter in her life—either by arranging a meeting between them or by obtaining proof that he does not love her, allowing her to conclude the matter herself.
I shall write again with many details soon,
Your loving niece, Elizabeth.
Elizabeth sat at the small table facing the window, unable to move. The evening was exceptionally clear, with a starry sky and a huge moon casting a radiant glow that made Rosings appear in the distance like an intriguing shadow. Faced with that magical image, Elizabeth accepted that she had not revealed the whole truth in her letter.
While Jane was her main reason for staying, she also wanted to see Mr Darcy with his sister, cousins, and aunt—among those who constituted his social circle. She was curious to discover whether his aloofness was simply his general disposition or whether he had not liked the company he had encountered in Hertfordshire. For Jane’s sake, she prayed that Mr Darcy would prove amiable among his family and willing to shed light on the mystery surrounding their abrupt departure last November.
Perhaps his sister or his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam could make her understand more about Mr Bingley and finally about Mr Darcy too.
After meeting Lady Catherine and finding her to be every bit as arrogant as her nephew, Elizabeth was eager to meetothers from their circle and form her own opinions of a society they—her family and friends—had not crossed paths with in the past. They still represented a mystery. There was also that pale girl, somewhat older than herself, who had scarcely uttered a word during dinner and, to her surprise, had turned out to be the heiress of Rosings—something Elizabeth could not align with her image.
It could be fun to observe the members of the ton when they were amongst their own kind—those who lived on grand estates like Rosings or Pemberley, Mr Darcy’s home in Derbyshire, which had been highly praised by the Bingley sisters. Were they all like Mr Darcy and his aunt, or could some be amiable and pleasant, regardless of their station in life? And, was Miss Darcy how her brother depicted her? These thoughts kept Elizabeth awake on that clear night.
Until her encounters with Mr Darcy and the Bingley sisters, she had believed that her father’s status as a gentleman placed her family in a position of respectability and equality with all other gentlefolk elsewhere—only to be utterly contradicted by most of the people residing at Netherfield through their disdain and arrogance.
She could not miss this opportunity to see Mr Darcy in his own environment—the arrogant wealthy gentleman who did not like her or her family but who had come to say goodbye in that veiled way, which was, after all, better than Mr Bingley’s sudden disappearance.
Waiting for Charlotte to come into her room and discuss the incredible news, she managed to order her thoughts, but after more than half an hour of waiting, she prepared for the night. Her friend would not come.
While combing her hair, she tried not to be sad. Yet, despite herself, she remembered all those times when Charlottehad run the two miles to Longbourn only to share a tidbit of news from Meryton.
Even though Mrs Collins was only a few steps down the hall that night, she was farther away than the nearest star.
Chapter 8
The following morning, when Maria woke up with a dreadful headache and a sore throat, they decided to postpone their planned walk into Hunsford village. Preferring to recover quietly in her room, Maria left Elizabeth and Charlotte free to stroll on the paths around the Parsonage. Walking towards Rosings, they suddenly felt a joy that harkened to the past when they would seize moments like those to exchange confidences. For a brief instant, it seemed her old friend had reappeared, inspiring Elizabeth to take Charlotte’s arm with affection.
“I am sorry that Maria is ill, but I cherish this time spent alone with you,” she said, and Charlotte nodded.
Elizabeth, unable to contain her curiosity any longer, turned the subject to that which was burning in her mind—the impending arrival of Lady Catherine’s guests.
“You mean Mr Darcy?” Charlotte replied, and they laughed heartily. “I know little, only what Mr Collins mentioned last evening. They are travelling from London, and the entirehousehold is preparing. Lady Catherine was quite happy that Miss Darcy was also coming.”
“It seems she is an accomplished young lady, who makes her own decisions and plays the pianoforte exquisitely. That is how Mr Darcy described her when we met in Meryton,” Elizabeth said.
“You have a wealth of information about them!” Charlotte exclaimed, surprised.
“I have a good memory. I tend to remember many unimportant details,” Elizabeth murmured, slightly embarrassed, not wishing to reveal her keen interest in the newcomers for fear that Charlotte might later recount their conversation to her husband.
