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But if she had to go, then go she would, and she would hold her head high and not be apologetic or subservient to the great man. It was he who ought to be apologetic?
??no, apologies were not enough. Contrition—remorse—was what required. Mr. Darcy would have to abase himself before he could presume to be on even footing with her. He was the one at fault. She had done nothing of which she should be ashamed, and had only acted appropriately and with the sense of propriety demanded of a lady. That he was no gentleman was apparent, but this was his disgrace, not hers.
Mr. Collins coughed, breaking Elizabeth’s reverie, and she looked at him, realizing only then that he had been silent for some time.
“Well?” she asked when he seemed disinclined to speak.
“Concerning Mr. Darcy . . .” Mr. Collins pursed his lips, placing his forefinger upon them as though struggling to compose his thoughts. “I’m afraid I have some unfortunate news.”
Chapter 2, Stir-Up Day
Sunday, November 22, 1812
“A Twelfth Night Ball!” Kitty exclaimed with joy. “Lydia will die of jealousy. I must write to her at once!”
The house was filled with the smell of Christmas puddings, which their housekeeper Mrs. Hill was preparing, for it was Stir-Up day, the last Sunday before Advent, and the last day to make plum pudding to have it age sufficiently before Christmas. Each member of the family would take a turn at stirring the pudding for luck.
Elizabeth breathed in the aromas of cinnamon, mace, and nutmeg, realizing as she did that these puddings were not for her, but that she would have to content herself with the puddings at Rosings Park, which would also have raisins, spices, candied fruit peel, and brandy, and yet would not be as good as Mrs. Hill’s.
It seemed that she alone in her family had any misgivings about having Christmas at Rosings Park. Even Mr. Bennet—who disliked society and preferred his library above any other place—was in good spirits.
Elizabeth was not as reluctant to go as formerly, given the nature of the “unfortunate news” Mr. Collins had related concerning Mr. Darcy. It seemed that Mr. Darcy would be unable to attend Rosings at Christmas due to pressing business matters in London. That this news, far from being unfortunate, was a great relief to Elizabeth, Mr. Collins, of course, could not know. She would’ve done everything in her power to remain at Longbourn had the visit to Rosings Park included meeting up with Mr. Darcy.
“I must say, Lizzy,” Mr. Bennet said, spearing a slice of ham with his fork, “that I’m surprised Lady Catherine holds you in such high esteem. It is inconceivable that a person who could countenance Mr. Collins would have the wit to appreciate you.”
“Hush!” Mrs. Bennet said, her mouth full of toast and marmalade. “I will not have you slander Lady Catherine. Of course, she likes our Lizzy—who wouldn’t? Pay him no mind, girls. He would look a gift horse in the mouth and criticize every tooth.”
Mr. Collins had spent the night at the Lucas’s, and so they were breakfasting without him. For once, they would have appreciated his company.
The previous evening, he had regaled them with stories of the preparations for the Christmas season at Rosings. Lady Catherine was sparing no expense. Gilding Rosings’ cupola was her most costly flourish. However, Mr. Collins reported many other extravagances—decorations, delicacies, and planned dinners with guests of distinction—that promised much in the way of delight and diversion.
Mrs. Bennet and her daughters were to depart Longbourn to arrive at Rosings Park December 18th, and were to stay through Twelfth Night so that they would spend the entire Christmas season there. Mr. Bennet remain at Longbourn to perform the various duties required, including a Christmas dinner for his tenant farmers, and the distribution of gift boxes to the needy on Boxing Day when Longbourn would be opened up to them.
“You must remember, girls,” said Mrs. Bennet, waving her butter knife at each daughter in turn, “to be always on your best behavior. I will not have anyone criticizing my daughters for lack of decorum. It is up to you to show that well-bred young ladies can come from the country as well as the town.”
“Will there be a great many rich young gentlemen there?” Kitty asked. She addressed this to Elizabeth. “I should so like to marry a man richer and more handsome than Mr. Wickham.”
“I do not know about more handsome,” Elizabeth replied, “but I think you are safe in assuming that they will be richer. As for their number, I’m sure I do not know, although Mr. Collins seems to be of the view that Rosings will be teeming with eligible young men.”
The young men at Rosings would have to be richer than Wickham. Elizabeth marveled at how he had been able to clear his debts in Meryton—the town had been full of gossip about how much Wickham owed in gambling and other debts—and also purchase a commission in the regulars, for she knew him to be penniless. But somehow he had done it, and he and Lydia had been married in London. They were now in the north, where his new regiment was stationed, and appeared to be surviving, though how she couldn’t imagine.
“Rosings Park will be chock-full of rich men,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Mr. Collins has been most clear on that point. We are fortunate indeed to have him for a relation, even though he is not above stooping to snatch Longbourn from us when it is only entailed to him.”
Elizabeth knew, though her maternal grandfather had been an attorney, her mother’s knowledge of the law did not go so far as to make comprehensible to her how an entail could possibly be legal. Indeed, on the point of entails her mother was beyond the reach of reason.
“Some people will think only of themselves, never mind what’s right,” Mrs. Bennet continued crossly, already forgetting her good fortune in having Mr. Collins for a relation.
“It is not his fault that Longbourn is entailed to him,” said Jane. “And we are fortunate that he remembers us. I’m sure he must have prevailed on Lady Catherine to extend her gracious invitation.”
Elizabeth sighed but said nothing. Jane was, as always, able to see only the best in others, thinking them to be as good, and as well-intentioned, as she was. Elizabeth did not believe that Mr. Collins would hazard having his Bennet relations—having seen their public behavior at the assembly in Meryton, and the ball at Netherfield—make a protracted stay at Rosings Park. The invitation had not come at his prompting. It was Lady Catherine’s idea. But why?
At least Mr. Darcy would not be there. And some good might come of the visit, for one of her sisters, if not for herself. Elizabeth took a sip of hot cocoa—she had no appetite to speak of—and listened while the others discussed preparations for the trip. New dresses must be made; travel arrangements attended to—a hundred details to take care of and less than two weeks to accomplish them.
Mrs. Bennet’s ambitions had to be repeatedly quashed by the constraints of time and circumstance.
“If only we could go to London first, where I know the best warehouses. It’s on the way, and we could stay with my brother for a week or two while the gowns are being made,” Mrs. Bennet said more than once, forgetting that their party would be too large for the Gardiners to accommodate in their Cheapside residence.
“How will you manage without us, Father?” Jane asked. “I don’t mind staying on here to help you.”
