Page 1

Chapter 1

“It is a pitiable thing, Lydia,” Mary declared, drawing herself up with all the solemnity of her eighteen years. “To succour the afflicted—especially those of our own blood—is a duty enjoined upon us by both scripture and decency. I cannot comprehend how you can resent the offering of shelter to Mrs. Ellington after such a misfortune as she has suffered.”

Unmoved, Lydia continued sorting her clothes, fabric rustling as she spoke over her shoulder. “That is easily said when it is not your room she shall stay in. I daresay you would feel differently if it were you who had to share with Kitty. You know how she talks in her sleep.”

“I daresay you would not be nearly so upset, Lydia, if you had time to adjust. It was unkind of Father to tell you only a few hours before her arrival.” As she said this, Elizabeth picked up a spencer that had been flung just short of the trunk, folded it, and placed it gently inside.

Lydia threw up her hands in frustration. “Not even a fortnight would have been enough to prepare me!”

“Very well.” Elizabeth exhaled, reminding herself of her sister’s age. “But nothing shall change the fact that Mrs. Ellington is here, and will remain for some time to come. You may grumble, or you may make the best of it. Now, do you require help with your things, or shall I go and acquaint myself with our cousin?”

Knowing her sister spoke the truth, Lydia relented with a dramatic sigh. Jane took up a pile of gowns with a gentle smile, while Mary, muttering about the vanity of worldly possessions, grudgingly gathered a collection of ribbons. In this manner, they moved three days’ worth of Lydia’s things into Kitty’s room.

Before they could return to tidy the vacated chamber, however, heavy footsteps announced Mrs. Ellington’s belongings. Peering into the corridor, the sisters saw Mr. Hill and a footman struggling with a weighty chest; Elizabeth rushed to open the door for them, lest they drop their load.

“You are kindness itself, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Hill, as he and the footman set the chest neatly at the foot of the bed. Both servants offered brief bows to the young ladies.

“It was nothing, Mr. Hill,” she answered with a gracious nod, turning back just as Mrs. Ellington entered, supported by her maid, Rose.

“Do you wish to sit, madam?” Rose’s voice held concern for her elderly charge.

“Oh, yes.” Mrs. Ellington’s voice was thin and raspy, but she managed to lower herself into the chair with Rose’s help. The maid, seeing her settled, poured her a glass of water. “You are all goodness, Rose. That will be all for now.” Mrs. Ellington sipped gratefully as the maid curtsied and withdrew, leaving her in the care of her young relations.

Smoothing her dark grey gown, Mrs. Ellington propped her cane against the dressing table. Her eyes swept across the space still strewn with Lydia’s possessions before settling warmly on her young relations. “My dear girls,” she began, “you must forgive me for upending your lives in such a manner. I cannot express enough my gratitude for your kindness in my time of need.”

Elizabeth offered a reassuring smile. “We are very glad to have you with us, Mrs. Ellington.”

“Indeed, Mrs. Ellington, we are pleased to be able to offer you hospitality, as is our biblical duty,” Mary added in such a tone that made one think she might have rehearsed it beforehand.

“I thank you. And most of all, Miss Lydia, I am very much obliged to you for yielding your chambers to me.”

Pleasure at being singled out for thanks warred with Lydia’s ill-humour. For a moment, she merely stared; then a grudging smile touched her lips. “You are welcome, Cousin.”

“I am sorry to have caused so much uproar,” Mrs. Ellington sighed. “I daresay my letter must have been delayed. I regret causing such disruption.”

Elizabeth harboured a private suspicion that the letter had not been delayed at all, but held her tongue; it would be just like Mr. Bennet to withhold such information merely to fluster his wife and daughters.

Jane smiled gently at the older woman. “It is unimportant now. You are here safely, and that is what truly matters.”

∞∞∞

Later that evening, Mrs. Ellington, suffering great fatigue from her travels, was a good deal indisposed and retired early. A wise decision, for in the dining-room, Mrs. Bennet’s displeasure at the lady’s introduction surpassed even that of her youngest daughter.

“And one of her station displacing my daughters!” lamented Mrs. Bennet over the fish course.

Elizabeth exchanged a weary glance with Jane, who asked, “What can you mean, Mamma? Is she not Father’s cousin?”

Mrs. Bennet huffed. “She married a servant! A servant! It is a disgrace.”

Mr. Bennet remarked in his customary detached tone, “She married a steward, my dear, not the boot boy. It was a curious business to be sure, but in the end, it was respectable enough.”

Elizabeth watched her father, a slight smile touching her lips at his deliberate calm. He enjoyed these skirmishes far too much.

“Respectable, you say!” Mrs. Bennet was quite beside herself. “The man was but a stablemaster’s son, given airs he could never rightly claim.”

“You speak as if they eloped to Scotland,” Mr. Bennet chuckled. “They were married from Longbourn, and my family made certain they were provided for. It is not as if he remained in service.”

“No, but it was known! Her presence will revive all the old gossip.” Mrs. Bennet pressed a hand to her chest in panic. “Then what shall we do? No one will wish to form a connection with our family!”