From Longbourn to Pemberley - Spring 1811 Read online

  ‘It must have been a very good reason, as she seems to be a very reasonable person. If I can help in any way, Charlotte, do not hesitate to ask.’

  ‘Thank you. In fact, Fanny asked for my advice, yet I do not know what to think of the situation, and even less what to suggest to her. I know that you will not talk about it, especially not at Rosings. Alas, it is possible that it will soon be known....’

  ‘What is it that you wish to say, Charlotte? I hope that it will not harm gentle Miss Price.’

  ‘I assure you that my distant cousin is irreproachable. Here is what happened: the young man who was courting her is said to have eloped with a woman who was recently married! Fanny received a letter from the sister of this man, urging her to not listen to the rumours and to trust that the feelings of her brother were genuine. Distraught, and not truly knowing what to do, she sought refuge here.’

  ‘Good Lord, what a story! I cannot imagine experiencing a situation such as this. Perhaps after feeling humiliated, she now feels relief. Her refusal, which may have seemed capricious, in the end showed itself to be proof of her better judgement. Wouldn’t you agree? And she must find solace in the quiet pace of life in Hunsford; you did well to invite her.’

  ‘Yes, I agree with you. But there is my husband, returning with Mr. Elton. He has most certainly come to bid us goodbye; it seems he is being impatiently awaited in Bath.’

  ‘Ah! My dear Charlotte, my instinct tells me that Mr. Elton will not have the luck of Mr. Collins, and the future Mrs. Elton will not hold a candle to you! I would even speculate that it is an heiress, and that she claims to be very accomplished and will tell everyone what should and should not be done!’

  ‘Lizzy, don’t be so irreverent,’ whispered Mrs. Collins, who wanted her guest’s time with them to end on a positive note.

  That same evening, in the drawing room, the four young ladies had the opportunity to refine their education by listening to Mr. Collins expound on the benefits of marriage, and on the fact that he had provided his colleague with several examples of his own domestic happiness. We can only imagine the allusions that peppered his comments and we can understand why poor Charlotte blushed to her very roots and why innocent Maria’s eyes widened, vainly awaiting an explanation of the joys of married life.

  It was the clatter of hooves and the rather strident sound of wheels on gravel that drew Elizabeth’s gaze towards the rectory. A hired carriage had stopped at the end of the pathway leading to the residence, and a girl stepped out and ran into the arms of Fanny Price, while a man, seated next to the coachman, lightly leapt to the ground, joining them. A conversation ensued that was so lively, that nobody noticed her quiet approach.

  ‘...You had received a letter that I was getting ready to send you when Edmund came to the house to explain to me that Sir Bertram wanted you to return to Mansfield to help our aunt. In addition, he hoped that I would accompany you. Isn’t this quite a surprise?!’

  ‘Susan, I am happy to see you here. Edmund, you seem tired. It is this very long voyage that I obliged you to make, which must not have the most pleasant; I am rather troubled. It seems that my decision hastened... And that Maria would be...’

  ‘No, do not feel guilty about anything, I beg you, dear Fanny, we will have all the time in the world to further discuss it. For the moment, I am very happy to see you again,’ admitted the young man, taking Fanny’s hands in his. ‘Assure me that you will be returning to the house.... We really need you.’

  ‘If your father is in agreement,’ the young woman stammered, blushing slightly. ‘Oh! Miss Elizabeth, allow me to present my sister, Susan, and Mr. Edmund Bertram of Mansfield Park in Northamptonshire.’

  Charlotte Lucas invited everyone inside and even managed to house the two new visitors for the night; Maria had kindly agreed to share her room with Susan, while Edmund Bertram would sleep in the room that Mr. Elton had just slept in. Initially averse to receiving these new arrivals, Mr. Collins quickly changed his mind. Had he not just learned that this young man, the son of a baronet, had also decided to join the Church? He hastened to send a message to Rosings to explain the situation in great detail, so much so that an invitation to dinner was extended to the son of Sir Bertram as well as to Miss Susan. On this particular day, the great generosity of her ladyship reached summits that would be graciously remembered for a very long time. As Mr. Collins had assailed the courteous Edmund Bertram, his wife had to employ some strategy so as to allow the latter the chance to talk with Fanny undisturbed. She therefore asked the young man if he would like to visit the gardens. He seized the opportunity and declared that this would interest him tremendously, and if Miss Price would be so kind as to accompany him...

  ‘My dear,’ advised Charlotte Collins, turning towards her husband, ‘as pleasant as this visit might be, you must not forget your responsibilities. There will be many people in church this Sunday, people of quality. As we will soon be seeing Lady Catherine, she will undoubtedly ask you about your Easter sermon. Now, did you not tell me that it was not completely perfect?’

  ‘My lord! Mrs. Collins, you do well to call me to order. No later than the day before last, her ladyship honoured me with a suggestion as to the direction of my sermon, which shall prove to be a precious source of inspiration to me. I agree. I shall hurry off. Please excuse me, Mr. Bertram, ladies,’ their host said, quickly bowing, and then rapidly striding out of the room.

  The afternoon was quite pleasant for everyone, almost. The signs of fatigue on Edmund Bertram’s face as well as Fanny Price’s look of anxiety and sadness did not escape the eyes of Elizabeth and Charlotte. It seemed clear that the news that had been exchanged during the walk showed itself to be a lot less heartening than the stupendous growth of the new variety of cucumbers being tested by the master of the gardens. However, when the reverend reappeared to announce their departure for Rosings, the visitors put on their best smiles and exhibited a certain interest in crossing the perfectly manicured grounds of the estate. We can truly highlight the excellent education of Fanny Price and Edmund Bertram, which allowed them to hide sorrow and trouble under a gracious façade. This permitted Mr. Collins to describe the beauty of Rosings with his particular form of lyricism: his descriptors respectfully accompanied by the price of everything that could be seen and admired.

  ‘As I indicated to you, Mr. Bertram, the gardens of Rosings attracted the attention of Miss Price, who has gone there for walks several times since arriving here.’

  ‘That does not surprise me, Lady de Bourgh, Miss Price always loved the flower gardens at Mansfield Park. She often went there to pick roses with which she made the most beautiful bouquets, something my mother liked to have in her little boudoir.’

  ‘And I wish to thank you, Lady Catherine,’ assured Fanny Price, blushing slightly at the compliment. ‘Your gardens reminded me of the creations of the great landscape designer, Mr. Humphry Repton.’

  ‘I can see, Miss Price, that you have a certain degree of knowledge in this field,’ interjected Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  Whereupon the young lady blushed, once again.

  ‘My nephew is right. I remember that Sir Lewis had insisted upon having Mr. Repton himself design the gardens at Rosings, and so it was. Are the gardens of Mansfield Park also his work?’ inquired Lady Catherine, turning towards Edmund Bertram.

  ‘No, Miss Price and I...had heard the great landscape designer’s name mentioned by...a common friend,’ replied the young man, carefully seeking his words.

  ‘Does this friend have a large estate? Does he live near London?’ asked Lady Catherine, intrigued by her guest’s hesitancy.

  Noticing that this was the third time that Fanny Price’s face had become flushed, Charlotte Collins would have liked to take the initiative of directing the conversation towards a subject that would draw attention away from her cousin, but she could not, as her ladyship was very strict with respect to proper etiquette. Against all expectations, Mr. Darcy came to the rescue.

 
‘Because you just mentioned London and because I know of your interest in music, Lady Catherine, may I inform you that in early May, the première of Cosi fan tutte will take place. I would like to attend with Georgiana. I think that she would enjoy this comedic opera, as would I, incidentally.’

  ‘If I understand well, Mr. Darcy,’ interjected Elizabeth, who had understood his helpful intentions, ‘your sister very much likes music and is an accomplished musician. She would most certainly enjoy the opera by Mr. Mozart.’

  ‘Darcy,’ continued their hostess, who was used to directing the conversation to her liking, ‘I hope that Georgiana practises regularly. Progress cannot be expected without lots of practice. This is what I told Miss Bennet just last week. I offered her the opportunity to come here to Rosings to practice. She can use Mrs. Jenkinson’s apartment, where she will disturb nobody.’

  ‘Heavens, Lady Catherine,’ began Colonel Fitzwilliam, embarrassed by his aunt’s statements.

  ‘Her ladyship exhibited tremendous goodwill,’ specified Mr. Collins, who wished to point out the generosity of his protector, ‘by showing interest in the development of the talent of one of our guests, who is most grateful! Isn’t that true, cousin Elizabeth?’

  The aforementioned cousin raised her eyes and met the mortified gaze of Fitzwilliam Darcy and concluded that he was learning something that she had experienced numerous times: that nobody could be held responsible for the behaviour and words of family members.

  ‘Naturally, Lady Catherine, and I would like to extend my gratitude.’

  On this, they were invited to go to the dining room, where the table settings were so sophisticated that Reverend Collins, as he was each time, was left speechless. Magic reigned again that evening, allowing the other guests to enjoy rather pleasant conversation, if one took exception to the incessant questions and comments by Lady Catherine, of course.

  On the invitation of the mistress of the estate, the ladies withdrew to the small drawing room, whereas the gentlemen, after consulting one another, decided to go to the billiards room, which was much more intimate than the large dining room, where there was no sense of conviviality. In addition, they could engage in discussion without too many restrictions, all the more so since her ladyship had detained Mr. Collins to discuss the sermon that coming Sunday. Edmund Bertram, Fitzwilliam Darcy and the Colonel were quite happy to be in each other’s company; a certain complicity had established itself between the new arrival and the two nephews of the hostess.

  ‘Please excuse the offensive contrivances of our aunt and the unpalatable manoeuvres of Reverend Collins, Mr. Bertram,’ said the Colonel, feeling obliged to make this statement while handing him a glass of port wine.

  ‘I had believed that marriage would bring William Collins to reason, but it seems that, despite the tactics of his wife, the besieged will not capitulate so easily,’ added Fitzwilliam Darcy, sighing.

  ‘It appears to me,’ confirmed Edmund Bertram, a hint of irony in his voice, ‘that the marriage could be compared to a battered land where at times, heavy artillery is required... If it were up to me, I would probably opt for desertion.’

  ‘I would say that, in my opinion, a lot of strategy is required to break through the adversary’s resistance without imperilling the clauses of the peace treaty!’ exclaimed the Colonel, who was rather amused.

  ‘However, on occasion, the ally himself might land on enemy territory and submit without much difficulty,’ stated Darcy, thoughtfully.

  ‘What are you insinuating, Mr. Darcy?’ asked Edmund Bertram, who had become pale when it occurred to him that this might apply to him.

  ‘Puns aside,’ said the Colonel, ‘are you speaking from experience, my dear cousin?’

  ‘Most certainly not, Richard, but I must admit that a few months ago, I helped a friend by saving him from a marriage that would probably have ended in failure.’

  ‘Truly? Is it the young woman who was at issue?’ asked Edmund Bertram, his curiosity piqued.

  ‘No, not really, she was very charming; it was rather her family that was not suitable. While her father was a gentleman, I regret to say that the mother showed herself to be notoriously opportunistic. It thereupon became clear to me that behind all this was maternal manipulation. Furthermore, one would have had to be blind to not notice the extreme shortcomings with respect to the education of the youngest daughters of the family.’

  ‘But if this young woman truly appeared to be in love, do you not feel that this is what really counted?’ asked the Colonel, who had correctly surmised that this had to do with Charles Bingley.

  ‘If this had been the case, Richard, I would probably not have acted in the same fashion. When I had the opportunity to more closely observe this young lady, I had the impression that her heart was not easily moved. I therefore intervened in order to save this friend from an even greater disappointment and much sorrow, as he seemed to be deeply in love.’

  ‘There is nothing sadder than being loved without being loved in return,’ sighed Edmund Bertram, emptying his glass.

  ‘Look at where this type of marriage leads!’ interjected the Colonel, hoping to lighten the mood.

  In saying this, he brandished the newspaper that was on the billiards table. Placing his finger on the article, he read the following aloud, in a light-hearted tone: “ … announced with great regret… a matrimonial rupture in the family of Mr. R. of Wimpole Street; Mrs. R., … who promised to become a most successful person… left the marital home in the company of the seductive Mr. C., a close friend to Mr. R….”

  ‘While that might raise a smile,’ admitted Darcy, ‘I truly feel sorry for Mr. R.’

  ‘Fortunately, all three of us are single!’ exclaimed Richard Fitzwilliam.

  ‘Gentlemen, I am able to join you at last!’ trumpeted Mr. Collins, bounding into the room. Her ladyship and I have just finished working for the spiritual good of the parish. She sent me to fetch you to bring you to the ladies.

  The man bowed so low that he almost lost his balance, but it was worthwhile; was he not rubbing shoulders with the son of an earl, the son of a baronet and the master of an enormous estate? And would he not also, God willing, of course, become the master of an estate? He would have something to strut about, something he would not deprive himself of. This is what the Colonel and his cousin observed. Nobody noticed that at the same time, Edmund Bertram, leaning against the billiards table, was striving to regain his composure. He had to exert a great amount of effort to move in the direction of this reverend, who was obsequious to the point of ridicule, and smile at him in the most civilised manner. Above all, he could not let anything show, nor could he say anything to Fanny before they left the next day.

  When the gentlemen made their entry in the drawing room, they witnessed a charming performance: Fanny Price and Elizabeth Bennet were reciting a poem, to the immense joy of Anne de Bourgh. Seeing their cousin’s pale face light up enthralled the Colonel as much as it did Darcy.

  […]

  I wandered lonely as a cloud

  That floats on high o’er vales and hills,

  When all at once I saw a crowd,

  A host, of golden daffodils;

  Beside the lake, beneath the trees.

  Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

  The two young ladies were applauded enthusiastically.

  ‘To what do we owe this wonderful recitation?’ asked Richard Fitzwilliam, turning to Miss Price.

  ‘In fact, Colonel,’ she replied, we were speaking of Mr. Cowper and Mr. Wordsworth when Miss de Bourgh mentioned that she very much liked the poem The Daffodils. Miss Bennet and I know the poem, so we recited it for her.

  While she spoke, Fanny Price turned towards Anne de Bourgh, giving her a friendly curtsy. Tomorrow she would be leaving, and even if all her attentions were directed at Mansfield Park, she would regret leaving this fragile young woman with whom she had established a trusting relationship. Fanny Price, who was capable of the greatest compassion, was als
o very devoted. Edmund Bertram, who had followed the scene from a distance, told himself that his family was, after all, perhaps fortunate in its misfortune, as they could count on Fanny. And for a minute or two, he could forget the news that had been published in the newspaper and smile. As for Fitzwilliam Darcy, it was as though he was enchanted; he had not lifted his gaze from Elizabeth Bennet. Then he had felt the eyes of Charlotte Collins on him, and, so as to not arouse suspicion, he nonchalantly made his way to the hearth. At this very moment, conversation resumed and the topic was, once again, music. Miss Bennet was asked to sit at the pianoforte and provide her ladyship with some music to sweeten her evening. This is how Mr. Collins put it, since, as we know, he liked to prepare some compliments in advance so as to never be unprepared before his noble benefactress.

  While Elizabeth Bennet was deciding on which pieces she would play, Lady Catherine stated that there were really very few people in England who loved music as much as she did or who were more naturally inclined to appreciate it. She assured everyone that she would doubtless have a lot of talent had she learned to play. This appeared to be so obvious to everyone that she felt it necessary to add that Anne would also have played magnificently if her health had allowed her to study piano. Maria and Susan acquiesced without really understanding what it was that was so absurd about her words, whereas Fanny and Charlotte did the same all while understanding perfectly well. Edmund Bertram took a seat in a chair some distance away, Darcy remained standing by the hearth, and Richard Fitzwilliam hurried to Miss Bennet to offer to turn the pages for her and, evidently, to benefit from her charming presence. She had barely launched into a sonata by Clementi when the mistress of the estate continued with her monologue, doling out advice and suggestions to everyone. Darcy, bored by his aunt’s discourse, decided that his cousin would not be the only one to benefit from Miss Bennet’s presence. As soon as she noticed him hear the piano, she addressed him.