A Death at Rosings: A Pride & Prejudice Variation (5 page)

Darcy nodded, not needing the firm look Elizabeth sent his way to persuade him to obey Anne. He understood what Miss Bennet was attempting to accomplish. His cousin was seen as someone with no thoughts of her own, no opinions and certainly no strength. Now, she would have to manage Rosings and likely deal with suitors of the most tenacious type. Elizabeth was trying to help Anne establish that she did indeed have purpose of character and Darcy had no wish to undermine that.

In the end, the reading was moved to a larger room, more of the beneficiaries of the will being readily available than Darcy would have suspected. There were no outlandish surprises. Nearly everything went to Anne, though Colonel Fitzwilliam received two thousand pounds. All of the servants housed at Rosings were awarded sums equal to their entire wages since they’d begun working there. The tenant farmers and workers who lived outside of Rosings were bequeathed amounts equivalent to ten percent of their total earnings. Many of the maids were only paid about five pounds a year and most were young enough that they hadn’t worked for very long, so their sums were relatively small, but the most experienced servants were to receive rather large sums.

If anything could be said to have been unexpected, it was that Lady Catherine had turned out to be more generous than Darcy anticipated. When he heard murmurs of how great and kind a lady his aunt had been, Darcy didn’t know if he should be amused or disgusted. He was sure such a change in opinion had been paramount in his aunt’s decisions.

The reading concluded, Mr. Hayes began to bundle his belongings once more. “Will that be all, then, sir?” he asked, turning to Darcy.

Having learned his lesson, Darcy turned to Anne.

“Will that be all, Miss de Bourgh?” Hayes added hurriedly, becoming nervous once more.

“I would like to put this behind us as quickly as possible,” Anne said. “How soon can my mother’s commitments be met?”

“There is no one to contest Lady Catherine’s wishes. You have full access to her . . . that is
your
funds, Miss de Bourgh,” Hayes said. “I can arrange for the money to be made available to you almost immediately.”

“See it done,” Miss de Bourgh said. “I would like it brought here so that I may disperse it.”

“Yes, Miss de Bourgh. An excellent idea,” Mr. Hayes said.

Darcy wasn’t sure it was an excellent idea. He looked for Elizabeth, who’d been off to the side for the reading, hoping she would recommend against having so much money brought to Rosings so quickly. She was nowhere to be seen, however.

Chapter Five

Elizabeth stood to one side of the room, feeling out of place. She really didn’t have any reason to be there for the reading of the will, as the attorney had pointed out. She also felt awkward being anywhere within sight of Mr. Darcy. It was exceedingly difficult to keep her jumble of emotions concerning him at bay when he was right there looking so very domineering and undeniably handsome. It had been bad enough thinking of him far away and in want of an apology from her, yet still the object of her anger. Adding him near and seeing her in nothing but a nightgown the evening before was simply too much. She couldn’t undermine Anne by declining to attend, though, and so kept her eyes downcast and away from Mr. Darcy’s face.

As soon as the official reading was over, a servant approached her with letters from her Aunt Gardiner and Jane. A glance showed her that Mr. Darcy was with Anne, speaking with the attorney. Feeling he could be relied on to curtail any foolish decisions, Elizabeth slipped away. She smiled in anticipation of hearing from two of her favorite people.

She wandered back to the parlor they’d been sewing in, opening Jane’s letter as soon as she sat down.

My dearest Lizzy,

I’m afraid you were correct. I never did see Miss Bingley again. Nor did I see Mr. Bingley, even once. I don’t mind, though, for I am quite over him. I’m sure I never held him in so much esteem as I first thought. It was merely the dancing, and the laughing, that convinced me I held such high affection. Now that we have neither danced nor laughed together for so long, I can set any lingering sentiment aside. I will remember him as the most pleasing man I’ve ever known, and I am certain he never intended anything serious. He can’t be blamed for attracting me because he is so attractive.

Oh Jane, Elizabeth thought, sighing. She cast a glare over her shoulder in the general direction of Mr. Darcy, even though it was through a wall. She could sense the sorrow hidden in Jane’s calm words. If she was sure in which direction the duplicitous Miss Bingley lay, she would cast a glare toward her as well. Instead, she returned her eyes to the page.

I am ever so happy to be home, as London was quite busy. Much as I enjoyed being with my aunt and uncle in London, I missed Hertfordshire. Now that I’ve been away from Mr. Bingley for so long, I am sure that I will be able to look at the places where I spent time with him without there being a constant reminder of him.

Elizabeth smiled sadly. Every line Jane wrote to convince Elizabeth that she was no longer sad about Mr. Bingley’s desertion instead convinced her that Jane was still deeply in love with him. She continued reading, scanning predictable lines about her mother, the neighbors, and Kitty, her smile still in place until she reached a section about Lydia.

I’m sure Father will permit you to stay in Kent. He has permitted Lydia to journey to Brighton as a friend to Colonel Forster’s wife and so can hardly have grounds to deny you. I harbor some concern about Lydia being away from family while she is still so young, but if Colonel Forster can command the militia in Meryton without any problems with the local population, he surely can take care of a girl who is not quite sixteen.

Kitty is devastated not to be allowed to go. She’s pointed out that she’s the older of the two so many times, it’s starting to grow tiresome. I do feel for her, though. It’s an unhappy thing to be left behind.

The unhappy thing was their father permitting Lydia to go at all, Elizabeth thought. How could he consent to it? Nothing good could come from Lydia being in Brighton with a whole campful of soldiers and no one likely to restrain her.

Elizabeth was filled with such a dire feeling by the news, she could hardly attend to the rest of Jane’s letter. She refolded it, setting aside the normally welcome details of home to read later, once her nerves were settled. She tried to assure herself that the wife of a colonel must be a responsible person, though Mrs. Forster’s preference for Lydia’s company gainsaid that notion.

She opened her aunt’s letter, hoping for something to distract her from her concern over Lydia.

Dear Elizabeth,

I hope this letter finds you well. It’s my understanding you’re still in Kent. As I have every reason to assume Mr. Bennet will permit you to remain there for the foreseeable future, that is where I’ve written you. If I was mistaken and you don’t receive this letter for some time, I can only hope it has caught up to your travels.

Your uncle and I are soon to embark on a pleasure tour of the Lakes. It was our intension that you should accompany us. As you’re otherwise engaged, we shall invite your sister Mary. I would have enjoyed your company, but I think the trip will benefit Mary. It may be that taking in more of the world will alter her in some small, becoming way.

Elizabeth frowned, then quickly looked about the room to ensure no one was there to witness it. It wasn’t that she was ungrateful for Miss de Bourgh’s friendship, but she would very much have liked to tour the Lakes with her favorite aunt and uncle. Her aunt was likely correct, though, that it would benefit Mary. Being the middle sister, Mary was often left out. Not only the culture of the trip, but being allowed something special and the undivided attention of their aunt and uncle may well do Mary some much needed good.

Having made up her mind that it was indeed for the best that Mary be awarded the indulgence, Elizabeth returned to reading. She was in the middle of a long paragraph concerning her young cousins when footfalls sounded in the hall. She looked up as Anne, Mrs. Jenkinson, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy entered the room.

“. . .unsurprised,” Anne was saying. “It was all as I expected. I inherit everything except for minor bequests.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam turned a wry smile on her. “It shows your wealth that you consider two thousand pounds to be minor.”

“My mother was grateful to you and Darcy for helping her with the estate,” Anne said, retaking her customary seat on the settee across from the door.

Colonel Fitzwilliam bowed to her. “One helps family, of course. Although it wasn’t difficult. Your mother’s steward does a good job of managing Rosings.”

He seated himself opposite Elizabeth, unfurling the newspaper he held. Mrs. Jenkinson returned to her customary place, taking up her sewing. Mr. Darcy bowed to Elizabeth and took the chair beside hers, sending a thrill of nerves through her with his nearness. Telling herself that Mr. Darcy was too much of a gentleman to hold the image of her in a state of undress in his mind, Elizabeth tamped down her disquiet. She carefully folded her aunt’s letter to finish reading later at her leisure.

Before anyone could initiate conversation, a maid appeared in the doorway to announce Mr. Collins. Elizabeth looked around the room and saw that no one was happy to see him, including Anne.

“Miss de Bourgh, I cannot express how concerned I am about your terrible loss. I—”

“Mr. Collins,” Anne said.

“—was stunned, to be sure. Of course, you will wish my advice in this time of need. I make myself and my wife wholly available to you. I cannot tell you how devastated we both are. I offer you every condolence and—”

“Mr. Collins!” Anne reiterated, louder than before.

Mr. Collins stopped speaking, his mouth hanging open for a moment before he snapped it closed, a look of confusion slackening his features.

“You have expressed your concern to me every time you’ve seen me,” Anne said. “I don’t want to hear it again.”

“But I am your spiritual advisor. You need my help and suppo—”

“Mr. Collins!” Anne exclaimed.

He stopped speaking, his eyes going wide.

“I will listen to your sermons every Sunday, but I am tired of having you here,” Anne said. “You can please me best by not coming unless you are invited. Mrs. Collins is always welcome, so long as you don’t send her here. Nor should you ever impede her from coming. I suggest that you learn to listen to your wife. She knows best in this case. Be content with the support you gave to my mother.”

He stood there with an expression of astonishment on his face.

“Go!” Anne said.

Mr. Collins looked first at Mr. Darcy who gave him a nod. He looked at Colonel Fitzwilliam who said, “I’m not going to argue. A soldier knows who is in command.”

Elizabeth took pity on him, partly because she thought Anne was being too harsh after the attention Lady Catherine had given him. “Miss de Bourgh wants only her relatives and women with her now,” she told him.

“I am grateful that your cousin Elizabeth is here,” Anne said. “You have given me someone to lean on. Let that be enough.”

Mr. Collins stood for a moment longer, looking bereft. Finally, he bowed and backed from the room, casting them beseeching glances until his feet carried him from view.

“That was tactful,” Elizabeth said, though she meant only the last of Anne’s words to her cousin.

Anne sighed. “Your words made me realize I shouldn’t be too harsh with him. He behaves how my mother wanted him to behave. I shouldn’t be mad at him for that, but I can’t stand the man.”

“Are you ever going to invite him here again?” Darcy asked.

“For his wife’s sake, every couple of months. If I can train him to be quiet, maybe more often,” Anne replied. She turned to Elizabeth. “Did I do the right thing?”

“Yes,” she said. “Both in telling him to go if you don’t want him here and in trying to do it in a kind way.”

“Well then,” Anne said. “I’m going to tell my butler I will not be receiving anyone, even for condolence calls. I do not want to sit through my neighbors telling me how sorry they are for my mother’s death when they didn’t like her.” She looked at Elizabeth. “I’ll have him tell people I am not up to seeing visitors.”

“That would be a better way of saying it,” Elizabeth said with a smile, though still probably not good. If Anne wanted to function as mistress of Rosings, she would have to learn to mix with her neighbors. Elizabeth knew that in a farming community, farmers frequently exchanged valuable information. On the other hand, perhaps Anne’s steward would make all of the decisions relating to the farm. She opened her mouth to comment.

“I see you have letters,” Anne said, a slightly beseeching look on her face. “Have you heard anything from your father yet?”

Elizabeth realized Anne didn’t wish to discuss the topic of visiting neighbors any further and decided it would wait for another time. “No, but I did receive opinions that he is likely to assent.”

“Was there anything else of interest in the letters?” Anne asked, picking up her sewing.

“My sister Mary is to go on a tour of the Lakes with my aunt and uncle, the Gardiners,” she said. She cast a glance at Mr. Darcy and resolved not to mention Jane. “My youngest sister, Lydia, will be traveling as well. She’s to go to Brighton with a Colonel and Mrs. Forster.”

As soon as she said it, Elizabeth wished she hadn’t. It was hardly private news, but the mere mention of it set her nerves knotting. What was her father thinking? At least her tone hadn’t given away her worry over Lydia, or her envy of Mary. She hoped.

“I remember you told my mother you have four sisters,” Anne said as she measured out a length of thread.

“I do,” Elizabeth said. She knew she ought to be sewing as well, like Mrs. Jenkinson and Anne, but her nerves would turn what was a moderate skill into an absolute disaster. Besides, Mr. Darcy was doing nothing save attending to the conversation, so she could emulate him without the appearance of idleness.

“Your eldest sister spent the winter in London, I believe,” Anne said. “You are here. Your youngest sister is to travel to Brighton. Is Mary the second youngest or the middle child?”

“Mary follows me,” Elizabeth said, wondering at Anne’s curiosity for a moment before she recalled the promise of letting her sisters visit. She hadn’t realized Anne would think of it again so soon. “Then Kitty, then Lydia.”

“So only the second youngest, Kitty, will have had no travel?

“Correct,” Elizabeth said. “Her name is actually Catherine, of course. We only call her Kitty.”

“Can’t imagine anyone calling our Aunt Catherine that,” Colonel Fitzwilliam mumbled behind his newspaper.

Elizabeth suppressed a smile. Nor could she imagine anyone addressing Lady Catherine as such. Lady Kitty. She covered her mouth and coughed to hide the laugh that tried to escape.

“If your father gives you permission to stay here, would it be acceptable if I invite your sister Kitty to join us?” Anne asked, either not hearing or choosing to ignore the colonel. “It won’t be very exciting, but at least it will give her a chance to see another part of the world.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Elizabeth said.

Although it was Jane she’d hoped to invite, Elizabeth didn’t see any reason to deny Kitty the opportunity. She wasn’t sure she would like having Jane there so long as Mr. Darcy remained, anyhow. He was a constant reminder of Mr. Bingley. It could only sadden Jane and increase Elizabeth’s anger to have them near one another. Kitty wouldn’t find a visit to Rosings to be much of a treat, but it was something to do while Lydia was in Brighton.