A Prettyish Kind of Little Wilderness
It was a cheery, bright sort of day when the caravan of carriages arrived at Rosings Park. Elizabeth, who had not seen these people in several months, could hardly contain her excitement, which was odd as she had never experienced such anticipation upon being reunited with her family. Perhaps it was because of the manner of her leaving, the circumstances which led to her departure. She could not say the true reason, but her excitement remained, nonetheless.
“I declare that we have a girl of five next to us,” observed Lady Catherine, looking on Elizabeth with a sort of amused indulgence.
“Aye, for I had no notion that she could behave this way,” said Anne.
“Nor did I,” replied Elizabeth.
“It is understandable,” said Lady Catherine. “For you have not seen them in some time.”
“And yet, I have never been so beset upon being reunited before.”
The look the two ladies exchanged informed Elizabeth they were considering the same explanation she had a moment before. Then the carriages rolled to a halt, and Elizabeth had no more time to consider the matter, for the doors open and the occupants descended.
“Jane!” exclaimed Elizabeth, throwing her arms around her eldest sister. “How I have missed you!”
“Lizzy!” cried Jane, in a most unusual display of emotion.
The other Bennets crowded around the sisters, Elizabeth going from one to the next, offering her greetings. Behind them all, watching the scene stood Mr. Darcy, his tender look rendering a warmth in her breast, the warmth of love and devotion. But for the moment, Elizabeth had no eyes for anyone other than her family.
“You do look well, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Bennet when they had exchanged their greetings. “Thank you, Lady Catherine,” added she with a curtsey, “for caring for my daughter these past months. It is a debt I can never repay.”
Though the satisfaction that was ever part of Lady Catherine’s character was present—the woman absolutely adored being useful—her reply was all that was gracious. “It was no trouble, Mrs. Bennet. Anne and I have enjoyed having your daughter’s company. I believe it is a reflection on you that you have raised such an excellent girl.”
“Oh, without a doubt!” exclaimed Mr. Collins who was on hand. “These months I have come to know Cousin Elizabeth, and I declare I have never met such an excellent woman!” Mr. Collins paused, and in a fashion unique to the gentleman, he amended: “Well, other than my dearest Charlotte, of course. But I declare that Cousin Elizabeth is worthy even of a man of Mr. Darcy’s obvious stature and excellent qualities!”
“If anything,” said Mr. Darcy, “it is I who is not worthy of she.”
The one other member of the party—Mr. Bingley, who was to stay at the parsonage with Mr. Darcy and Mr. Collins—was introduced to her ladyship and Anne’s acquaintance. Lady Catherine did a credible job of indicating her pleasure—though Elizabeth knew she had decided opinions about those of lesser stations—and addressed the company.
“Perhaps we should go inside and continue your reunion there. If we remain here much longer, we are bound to become positively prideful with the praise flowing about.”
They all laughed and agreed, entering the house. Lady Catherine showed them above stairs herself, pointing to the hallway which led to the principal sitting-room and the dining room as they passed. When they reached the second floor, her ladyship called the housekeeper to assist in showing the Bennets to their bedchambers, which were situated on the near side of the guest wing. It did not pass Mrs. Bennet’s attention that Elizabeth’s room was in the family quarters, though to Elizabeth’s relief her mother did not comment.
“The servants have provided water for your refreshment, and I believe the footmen will deliver your trunks to your rooms momentarily.” Lady Catherine paused and smiled at the assembled Bennets. “When you are ready, please come to the sitting-room where we can visit for a time with tea.”
When the Bennets began to descend, Elizabeth greeted their coming with scarcely concealed eagerness. The first to arrive were her younger sisters, Lydia being the first to speak.
“Lizzy! You have lived here since leaving Hertfordshire?”
Though the girl likely did not even notice, Lady Catherine gave her a pointed look. Elizabeth, who was accustomed to her youngest sister’s ways, welcomed them and said: “I have, Lydia. Though it is a large house with fine appointments, I would have you remember it is still a home.”
“Should you visit Pemberley, which Darcy’s estate,” said Lady Catherine, “you will find it even larger, for it is a jewel among estates.”
It was clear Lydia had difficulty imagining a house even grander than Rosings, but the arrival of the rest of the family forestalled the girl’s reply; William, Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Collins trailed behind the arriving Bennets. As was his custom, William ensured he was seated by Elizabeth’s side, an action mirrored by Mr. Bingley with Jane. An expressive look at Jane provoked a blush in reply, leaving Elizabeth happy that her sister’s courtship was proceeding according to her desires.
“Please allow me to thank you for your hospitality, Lady Catherine,” said Mr. Bennet when they were seated.
“It is no trouble at all, Mr. Bennet,” replied her ladyship. “Anne and I have had guests with such infrequency at Rosings, I am anticipating becoming reacquainted with the experience.” Lady Catherine paused and eyed Mr. Bennet. “I am interested to know, if you are willing to share, how matters are near your home.”
“Much settled,” said Mr. Bennet with a glance at his wife. “The unmasking of Mr. Wickham quelled most of the remaining talk, and my subsequent discussion with the local gentlemen did the rest. Maybe Meryton will emerge improved by the experience, for I believe many of our neighbors have taken their gossips in hand.”
“That is well,” said Lady Catherine, “for gossiping is a nasty business.”
Elizabeth noticed though she thought Lady Catherine did not, her mother’s blush at such a pronouncement. By contrast, Mary, who had always deplored the practice, was positively smug.
Then her ladyship turned her attention to Elizabeth. “Does this news alter your thoughts concerning where you wish to wed?”
Hesitating to consider her feelings, Elizabeth shared a look with William, who seemed as complaisant as she had ever seen him. It was her decision, his lack of response told her, filling her again with affection.
“I do not know, Lady Catherine,” said Elizabeth at length. “I must think on it further. The venue does not signify, though the thought of how poorly our neighbors treated us still weighs on my mind.”
“Should you choose Hunsford,” said Mr. Collins, “I shall be happy to perform the service. Indeed, it would be an honor I would scarce think to receive.”
It was clear to Elizabeth, and the rest of the company, that the parson was eager without wishing to appear eager. Elizabeth’s feelings toward the man had grown warmer the longer she had been at Rosings, and she smiled and nodded.
“At present, I believe I am leaning toward Hunsford, Cousin, but Mr. Darcy and I must consider it further.”
“Whatever you decide will be acceptable to me,” said William.
Mr. Bingley and Mr. Bennet both chuckled at his response, the former exclaiming: “Now if that is not a man in love, I declare I have never seen one!”
The rest of the company broke out into mirth in which William joined, not denying it for an instant. Elizabeth favored him with a smile which he returned without reservation.
“Are there any officers nearby?” asked Lydia as the laughter died down.
“There are not,” replied Lady Catherine, giving Elizabeth’s youngest sister another pointed look.
The girl did not hesitate to pout, though, to Elizabeth’s interested eye, Kitty did not do likewise. Lady Catherine’s look became more piercing when she noticed Lydia’s reaction, leading Mr. Bennet to interject.
“As we discussed, Lydia, you must occupy yourself with other activities. I am certain your sisters will help you find appropriate pastimes.”
Lydia cast a dubious look at Elizabeth. It was fortunate the girl did not speak again, for Elizabeth thought Lady Catherine might have reprimanded her if she had. An interesting few weeks lay ahead, for Elizabeth could not imagine Lady Catherine allowing her youngest sisters to misbehave and not speak up. Given the number of times Lydia had embarrassed her, Elizabeth was anticipating it. Perhaps the girl would even listen.
As the company descended into general conversation, Elizabeth turned to William and fixed him with a playful smile. “Are you quite comfortable at the parsonage? Though I have never stayed there, it seems to be a handsome enough house.”
“Quite comfortable,” replied he. “If I am near you, a woodsman’s shack would seem like a palace.”
“Methinks the gentleman has become a bit of a charmer. Have you been taking lessons from your cousin?”
“It is love, and nothing more, that provokes this change in me,” replied he, his eyes seeming to devour her where she sat.
Elizabeth blushed, prompting the gentleman’s laugh. Before she could respond, he changed the subject.
“I believe Rosings will see several more visitors by the end of the week. My cousin, James Fitzwilliam, Viscount Banbury, is to return to London shortly. I expect he will wish to make your acquaintance.”
“And is he as formidable as your uncle?”
“James is more like his brother in character,” replied William. “As Charity has also expressed an interest in becoming reacquainted with you and Georgiana also wishes to come, they shall accompany him if he comes.”
“Then I look forward to deepening my acquaintance with them.” Elizabeth paused and ventured: “Has Colonel Fitzwilliam made any progress toward apprehending Mr. Wickham?”
“No, unfortunately. And he is beside himself at his failure. He thought he would have Wickham by now, though he knew it would not happen at once.”
“Then I hope he apprehends Mr. Wickham before he can do more damage.”
“The damage he attempted to do is contained. I hope we need fear Wickham no more.”
“That is my hope too,” was Elizabeth’s soft reply. Unfortunate though it was, Elizabeth suspected they had not yet seen the last of Mr. Wickham.
Elizabeth loved her family; she truly did. Being parted from them for so many weeks, however, had lessened her resistance to their ways, for they could be difficult to endure. Lydia and Kitty were still thick as thieves, were too loud, and giggled entirely too much, and while her mother appeared quieter, she still had her moments as well. Elizabeth had noted her father’s new interest in Mary, but at times she persisted with her ponderous pronouncements where they were least required. Furthermore, the new arrivals meant a larger gathering, whereas Elizabeth had been comfortable with only Lady Catherine and Anne. Thus, she wished for solitude more often than was her wont.
A few days after her family’s arrival, Elizabeth wished to be alone yet again, and as the early spring morning was brisk, yet bright and cheery, she slipped away for a little of that solitude, to think on her life and set matters in order in her mind. William was, that morning, engaged with Mr. Collins and Mr. Bingley, and as such, Elizabeth was left to her own devices.
The warmer weather had allowed Elizabeth to range further from the house than she had gone since she came to Rosings, and while some areas were still too muddy, she had found several paths she liked very much. The surrounding trees were beginning to show signs of life, the incipient coming of spring. It was a portent, she decided, a precursor to better days on the horizon, where they could finally put their troubles behind them.
It was not Elizabeth’s practice to tarry long on the paths of Rosings, for she had learned early that Lady Catherine did not appreciate long absences. As the lady was offering welcome support, Elizabeth thought it a little enough gesture to avoid angering her ladyship. Thus, she turned her steps back to the house long before she might have done so had she been in Longbourn, the trusty footman in tow.
That was another source of exasperation. Elizabeth had always walked by herself at Longbourn, her confidence in her ability to traverse the paths without error rendering such an escort unnecessary and unwanted. With Mr. Wickham about, she knew it was necessary for her protection, though she still did not appreciate it. Initially one of the Rosings footmen had accompanied her, but the last time Mr. Darcy had returned, he had brought one of his own, a man in whom he had supreme confidence. Since that time, Mr. Thompson had been her shadow, though calling that large a man a shadow was laughable.
“Should Wickham show his face here,” William had said, “he will run at the sight of Thompson, for he has thrashed Wickham more than once. He might even be more afraid of Thompson than he is of Fitzwilliam.”
The footman was unobtrusive, rendering his company easy to endure. From what Elizabeth could see, her protection was Mr. Thompson’s only duty, for he was often nearby even when she was in the house. William’s protective instinct toward her was endearing, though Elizabeth knew she would find it restrictive if it continued.
When it happened, Elizabeth had little warning, for when she gazed down the path, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. A moment later, however, she looked up again, and off to the side of the path stood a man. His overcoat was pulled tightly around him, his hat pulled low over his head. From beneath the brim, Elizabeth could see a pair of eyes watching her, his expression dark. A shock of recognition shot through her.
The End