Apparently, she has decided that I am now the sister to marry Mr. Collins. I am anxious at the thought of it; the man is not only much older than I, but I feel I am not prepared for marriage.
Since you departed, I have begun spending less time at home and more time with Charlotte Lucas and Mrs. Allen, the rector’s wife. In my conversations with her, I have learned that Longbourn’s tenants are among the poorest inour parish, for Mama does not act as she should and does not do anything to aid them. Papa has raised the rents on our tenants to make up for the loss of income in other areas. The estate is failing, and Papa will do nothing to help. I am concerned that someday all Mama’s cries about us ending in the hedgerows may be truer than any of us would like.
I do not say that to beg for assistance, for I know that neither Mr. Phillips, nor even Mr. Gardiner would allow us to live in penury, but should something happen to Papa, we would lose much of the status we currently enjoy as the daughters of a gentleman. Mama is worried that Mr. Collins will not allow us to live at Longbourn without either Jane or me marrying him, and even should that come to pass, he may still be unwilling to do as our mother wishes. The man is to arrive soon, and I worry what will happen when he comes.
Forgive me, Elizabeth, for I know my letter rambles. I have taken the lessons of Mrs. Allen to heart and have begun joining her as she visits the poor in the parish, many of whom are our tenants. Jane accompanied me once but found it too uncomfortable for her and has no wish to continue. According to Mrs. Allen, this is what young gentlewomen ought to do, and we ought to have always been doing it. Had you remained at Longbourn, perhaps we would have, or at least I think that may be the case. Regardless, I am finally learning what I ought to have known, and that will make me a better wife for someone whenever that comes to pass. I hope it is not soon.
Elizabeth sighed upon finishing this letter. “What is it, dearest?” Darcy asked, looking up from his own correspondence.
“Mary. Things at Longbourn are as bad as we supposed. Part of me wishes to offer my assistance, but another part of me asks myself why I should. They wanted nothing to do with me before. I can give Mary and my next younger sisters a bit more grace, but Jane I cannot understand. She has also written, but mostly to complain about the lack of opportunities for her in Hertfordshire and to beg for an invitation to come to town. I will wait before I reply to her. However, I do feel badly for Mary. It seems she has had her eyes opened to our parents and wishes for better.”
"It is a shame that neither her mother nor her father never took enough of an interest in her to teach her what she ought to know as a gentleman's daughter. I know you did not live at Longbourn for many years, but even when you were first at Pemberley, you seemed to have some inclination of what was expected by the mistress of an estate. I remember you speaking to Mrs. Reynolds and even my father about some of the problems you noticed when you traipsed through the estate," Darcy said with a grin, obviously remembering that time. "Father was amazed at some of the problems you pointed out."
She grinned back at him. “My aunt always spoke to me about what was expected of someone of my station. She was the daughter of a gentleman although her father did not own an estate. Her father was a second son, but she did spend some time on the family’s estate. My grandmother also spent a little time with me before she died. In fact, she died not long before I was sent to London which I think was one of the reasons that Mr. Bennet finally gave in to Mrs. Bennet’s demands. Before that, my grandmother protected me. I have always been observant of things, and my aunt always encouraged me to choose charitable pursuits. Helping with the tenants at Pemberley just seemed to be an easy way to provide assistance where I could.”
Darcy nodded, and the couple sat for several moments in silence. Finally, he spoke. “Perhaps your Aunt Gardiner would be willing to allow Mary to join them in London for a time. I am hesitant to invite her to join us, at least not directly from Longbourn. From what you have said, I feel certain others would attempt to turn anything we do for one sister into a way to use us. Mary would benefit from the companionship of Mrs. Gardiner.”
Elizabeth sighed. “If it becomes untenable for her at Longbourn, I will suggest it. For now, it seems that the rector’s wife and my friend Charlotte are aiding Mary. I hope to hear more about this Mr. Collins and what happens with him. If Mary is forced to accept an engagement to him, I will not hesitate to act. Also, I will speak of this to my aunt when she visits, for she would likely want to know how she might be of aid if it is required.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Three days after this discussion, Lady Catherine arrived on the Darcys’ doorstep. Despite being told frequently that Darcy and her daughter would never marry, the grand lady had not ceased her insistence upon it. When she learned in the paper that her nephew had married the former Elizabeth Gardiner, she was incensed and did not hesitate to make her way to London to let her nephew know of her displeasure.
Though Darcy had informed his aunt of his courtship and subsequent engagement through letters, her daughter Anne had somehow prevented her mother from reading these and, therefore, kept her mother from knowing any of it. Unfortunately, she was unable to prevent her mother from finding the wedding announcement posted in the Times and the letter from her Uncle Matlock that announced the news.
Both the letter and the newspaper did not arrive for more than a fortnight after the wedding had taken place. To say that Lady Catherine was displeased was an understatement. Anne did her best to mitigate her mother’s anger by telling her that she was not upset by the so-called ‘betrayal’, but it did not matter to her mother. She was upset that her own plans were wrecked.
Lady Catherine liked being in charge at Rosings and wanted to remain in charge. As it stood, Anne would inherit upon her twenty-fifth birthday, now less than a year away. Had Lady Catherine got her way, Darcy would have married Anne and carried her to Pemberley, leaving her to remain in charge of Rosings.
Anne flatly refused to accompany her mother to London to confront Darcy. “There is little point, Mother. Even had I wanted to marry Darcy, he is already wed and has been for more than a fortnight. He is married to a woman he loves, and nothing you do or say will force him to relinquish her now.”
Lady Catherine eyed her daughter warily. “What do you know about it, Anne?”
"Darcy wrote to you months ago, Mother. Since you always have me read his letters to you because his handwriting is 'too difficult' for you to read yourself, I simply did not read out those portions of the letter. I did not wish for you to interfere with my cousin’s happiness."
The matriarch was taken aback at this realisation. While it should have been abundantly apparent that this journey to London was pointless, she was still determined to go to make her outrage known. Nothing her daughter could say would stop her, and she was determined to ensure her nephew knew exactly what she thought about his treachery.
She spent the carriage ride fuming about her recalcitrant nephews and obstinate daughters who were unwilling to comply with her plans. Their disobedience weighed heavily on her mind, overshadowing the scenery passing by outside the carriage window. The rhythmic clatter of the horses’ hooves seemed to echo her frustration, amplifying her discontent with each passing mile.
The further she travelled, the more determined she became. She intended to confront Darcy and force him to do as she wished. However, she was uncertain how to make him comply with her plans, and it seemed that her brother would be no help in thismatter. Regardless, she intended to let her entire family know of her displeasure.
Lady Catherine’s carriage rushed toward London, passing through the town of Maidstone without stopping, completely unaware of the carriage colliding with another in her wake as it swerved to avoid the fast-moving carriage. Though had she been aware of her demand that her driver “make haste” had caused an accident, it probably would have done little to change her resolve.
It was mid-afternoon, and the couple was resting in the library, enjoying a brief respite from the responsibilities of managing their home and business. Both were informally attired since they had no intention of seeing anyone other than their servants. They were surprised when they heard a strident voice demanding to see her nephew, and Darcy rolled his eyes expressively when he recognised his aunt’s voice.
“Lady Catherine,” he informed his wife unnecessarily.
Elizabeth cocked her head at him. “You wrote to her of our engagement and intended marriage, did you not? The marriage announcement was only recently published, I know, but I thought your uncle was to write to her as well.”
Darcy nodded before taking a deep breath and preparing himself for whatever was to follow. He had thought it odd she had not at least written before now, but since he did not want to invite problems, he had not worried about it.
Finally, the door was flung open as the harried butler attempted to do his duty in announcing the guest. Darcy merely shook his head at the man, indicating that he should go on about his business.
“What is the meaning of this, Darcy? How dare you defy me by marrying someone other than my Anne. She was formed for you, and your mother and I planned for your match in your cradles,” she said, seething at the couple’s informal attire and obvious familiarity with each other.
As he stood belatedly, Darcy shook his head in disbelief at her coming to object now. "Madam, you might have wished for it, and my mother might even have agreed that it was a pleasant thought, but that is all it was—an idle thought of two mothers almost twenty-five years ago. No contracts were ever signed and neither of my parents approved the match, a fact of which you are well aware since my father wrote to you about it on several occasions before his death. Anne did not desire to wed me any more than I wished to marry her. Furthermore, I am now married to a dear woman of my choosing. You are too late to do anything about the matter. Now, if you will allow me, I will introduce you to my wife."
“I have no desire to meet your so-called wife. Why would I want to meet such a low-born trollop who would deliberately come in between you and your betrothed?”
