Author's note: And now we're all in Kent! :D Don't hate me for how the chapter ends.
Chapter 28
Elizabeth looked around the parsonage in dismay. From all appearances, her cousin Mr. Collins was not a very orderly man.
"I'm glad he never came to Longbourn," sniffed Lydia, holding up a rather large, soiled shirt that was lying on a table in the parlor.
"Lydia, put that down!" exclaimed Mr. Bennet, coming into the Parsonage with a trunk.
The three Bennets had arrived at Hunsford to find a completely empty Parsonage. From the state of the food in the pantry, it was evident there were no servants remaining. Whether they left when their master did, or fled when he failed to return and the winter because extreme, remained unknown.
Mr. Bennet looked around the room and said, "Well, girl, two decisions are before us. We can remain in the Parsonage, or we can find an inn. If we stay at the Parsonage, we will be living quite primitively until we can get things arranged. If we remain at the inn, we will perhaps be more comfortable, but we will be traveling frequently to do our work of going through the items in the house."
Elizabeth and Lydia exchanged a look. Lydia wrinkled her nose, which made Elizabeth laugh. "I think, Papa," said the elder girl, "that we should stay here. It won't be much different than living cozily at Longbourn, and we will be able to get through things much quicker."
"Perhaps we can send a note up to the patroness?" suggested Lydia, who had tossed the offensive shirt into a pile of dirty rags in the corner. "She might have a maid we can borrow to help us."
"Excellent idea," agreed Mr. Bennet. He dug through a drawer in a desk, finding only a broken stub of pencil and a frozen bottle of ink. Jotting a quick note on a scrap paper that was found lying on the floor, Mr. Bennet went to the door and gave the missive to Harold, their coachman, with instructions to take it up to the main house.
That having been settled, the next thing they did was light a fire. The maid they had brought along to help with everything was extremely efficient. Lydia proved herself useful by doing an inventory of the kitchen to find something to eat, while Elizabeth went to the bedrooms to see what could be done for sleeping arrangements.
She was pleased to discover a large bed in what she assumed was a guest bedroom, as there were no personal items in it. This will do nicely for Mary and myself.
Unfortunately, the linens in the master's chambers were so soiled, she didn't think they could be saved, even if it weren't too cold to do wash before bedtime. She pulled them off the bed, intending to find clean ones, when
"I think you'll have to sleep on the couch, Papa," Elizabeth said as her father came into the room to check on her.
Mr. Bennet looked at the stained mattress and wrinkled his nose. "Yes, I quite agree."
Elizabeth began to look in the closets for some linens and was surprised to discover shelves. "Where on earth are we supposed to hang our dresses?" she muttered to herself in disbelief.
The doorbell rang at that moment, and to their relief, Harold had returned with a young maid named Polly.
"The mistress sent this note for you as well, sir, in response to your own." Harold handed Mr. Bennet a folded paper in the same elegant handwriting from her letter.
Mr. Bennet,
Please accept my most sincere apologies for the state of the Parsonage. It did not even occur to me that the servants would have abandoned it, although given the circumstances, I cannot say I am surprised.
My only defense in my poor skills as a hostess that my mother — the former owner of Rosings Park and who gave your cousin his appointment and her patronage — passed away earlier this week. I had intended to send over one of my cousins to the Parsonage when you arrived, but I'm afraid in all of the chaos and transition, I completely forgot about your arrival.
To make up for this lack, please accept my invitation to stay here at Rosings. I have two cousins in attendance who will be helping me with the legal aspects of turning Rosings over to my control, but it will be a lengthy process, as the lawyers have yet to arrive from London.
Please do not think you would be intruding on our mourning. My mother's passing wasn't a surprise, so we were not unprepared to handle the situation emotionally.
Based on what I know about Mr. Collins, I do not think it would be boasting to say that my home would be infinitely more comfortable compared to his own lodgings. I am so confident in that assessment, that I will have the servants begin preparing for your arrival.
Whether or not you choose to stay at Rosings, please consider Polly to be your own maid for the duration of your stay.
Miss de Bourgh
Mr. Bennet finished reading the note and silently passed it on to Elizabeth. Lydia hurried to her sister's side, peering over her shoulder to read together. When they had finished reading, Elizabeth said, "As much as I hate to intrude on a stranger's home, I think it would be best if we accept her generous offer. The state of that mattress is beyond words, and I do not think the sofa will be very comfortable for long."
"There's also no usable food in the larder," Lydia added. "Between rodents and constant freezing and thawing, everything has gone rotten. There isn't even a crust of bread that's safe to eat."
At that moment, they heard a skittering coming from across the room. All three turned towards the sound, and Lydia let out a tremendous shriek before jumping onto a chair.
"Mouse!"
A rather large mouse — possibly even a rat — was running along the wall, holding half a piece of stale bread.
Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth looked at each other, and Elizabeth shook her head, declaring. "There is no possible way that I am sleeping in this house."
Her father looked at her, then at Lydia up on the chair, then back towards the hole where the mouse had disappeared into the wall. He began to laugh and said, "I think, my dear Lydia, that the mouse has proved you to be a liar."
"What?" gasped Lydia, eyes still wide with fright. "I don't understand. What do you mean?"
Mr. Bennet stretched out a hand to help his youngest daughter down from the chair. "There was an edible crust of bread after all."
He smirked at his daughters. Elizabeth burst into laughter, and after a few seconds of blinking dumbly at her father, Lydia joined in.
After he wiped the tears from his eyes, Mr. Bennet called for Harold to collect the trunk that was still on the floor of the drawing room. "Let us go to Rosings, have a good meal, then return here tomorrow morning when we are refreshed."
Elizabeth nodded and turned to Polly. "Would you be willing to come and light some fires tomorrow morning about an hour before we come?"
The girl gave a wide grin and bobbed a curtsy. "If it's all right with you, Miss, I'll just come directly here from my house instead of coming all the way up to the big house."
Giving her father a brief glance to be sure, Elizabeth gave Polly the desired permission. With that settled, they loaded into the carriage to ride up to the manor.
Lydia gasped when they came around a corner of hedges and saw the large manor appear suddenly in front of them. "I've never seen so many windows on a house before!" she breathed in amazement.
"It likely cost the owner a pretty penny to install, never mind the taxes," remarked Mr. Bennet dryly.
Elizabeth looked somewhat sorrowfully around the carefully manicured lawn. Although everything still looked dead from winter, there were hopeful signs of budding plants scattered throughout the meticulous landscaping. She sighed at the idea of natural beauty being forced to give way to ostentations symmetry.
The carriage stopped at the front house, and Mr. Bennet disembarked before turning and handing his daughters down. The door was opened before they even got close enough to knock, and they were immediately granted entry by a stately butler.
"You are the Bennets?" he asked, looking down his nose at them.
Mr. Bennet quirked an eyebrow but said mildly, "Yes, we are."
"My name is Rogers. Miss de Bourgh has asked me to show you to the drawing room until your rooms can be finished. If you will follow me, please."
Elizabeth suppressed a smile at the man's statement, which sounded much more like an order than a request. They dutifully followed him into a nearby room. He bowed and said, "Miss de Bourgh will join you shortly."
Once the door closed behind him, Elizabeth looked around the room. Her eyes widened at the ornate furniture and rich wall hangings, dressed in colors of rich blue and purple.
"This certainly is different than the parsonage," she said wryly.
Before her sister or father could respond, however, the door opened. In walked a diminutive young woman, whose pale face and thin frame made her appear more ghost than girl. Elizabeth privately admitted that it was most likely due to the severely black clothing that draped her small form.
Her voice was surprisingly strong, however, when she said, "Mr. Bennet, I presume? Thank you so much for accepting my invitation to stay at Rosings. I cannot begin to express my apologies for the state of the Parsonage on your arrival. I hope your stay here will make up for my failure."
The young lady looked so sincere and anxious that Elizabeth was quite taken aback. Based on the pained expression on the girl's face when she first entered, Elizabeth had resigned herself to a cross, sickly hostess that would be difficult to appease, thus increasing the difficulty and length of their stay.
Mr. Bennet, having over twenty years of dealing with young ladies, gave her a kind smile. "Not at all, my dear. We had been settling on making do, and that would have been just fine for us! Please, do not trouble yourself."
Lydia gave the girl a bright smile. "You have the biggest house I have ever seen!"
"Lydia!" Elizabeth whispered scold caused her younger sister's smile to dim slightly. "Miss de Bourgh, we are grateful for your hospitality. And please allow me to say how sorry I am for your loss."
Miss de Bourgh seemed to shrink at this reminder of her mother's death. The smile — which had only appeared at Lydia's words — faded away. She opened her mouth to reply, but was silent. After a few seconds she simply said, "Thank you for your words."
Elizabeth was momentarily flummoxed — a situation which was a rare occurrence for her. She wracked her brain for something to say, but before she could think of anything, Miss de Bourgh turned to Lydia and said, "It is a rather large house, isn't it? I've always felt like it was too large for me. I much prefer visiting my uncle or my cousins. Their homes are rather large as well, I suppose, but for some reason they feel more like a home and less like a…"
Here the girl faltered, her ramblings falling silent briefly before Lydia once again spoke. "… a museum?"
Elizabeth's eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to chastise her sister once again while also shooting a desperate look at her father, who was watching the scene with amusement. Before she could speak, Miss de Bourgh said, "Precisely! Oh, I am so glad I am not the only one who thinks so! I cannot wait to get redecorate. Of course, my cousins need to go through the finances, and the lawyers need to give me access to everything — there may not be any money left to make any changes. Perhaps we could sell some of these things, however. Do you think anyone would buy them?"
Miss de Bourgh stared at her guests for a moment before Elizabeth's brain realized the girl was actually expecting a response. She looked at her father, who was silently watching the girl with a mixture of bafflement and tenderness. Elizabeth cleared her throat and ventured, "Perhaps. My uncle has a warehouse in town, and he says many of the wealthier tradesmen like to purchase items that are sold from landed estates."
Eyes widening in excitement, Miss de Bourgh practically bounced on her feet as she clapped her hands together. "Oh, that is wonderful! Do you think he could help me? I don't know what I'm doing, you see."
Suddenly she went silent, her hands falling to her sides. A furious blush crossed her cheeks, and she bowed her head. "Forgive me. I shouldn't be so forward with strangers. It's just… well… you see, my mother was quite protective of me, and she had strong opinions. I've actually never met with young ladies my age before, other than the servants or my cousin. And my cousin is quite a few years younger than I am. I was so excited to see young gentlewomen my age that I've assumed a friendship I should not have. These last few week of my mother's illness have allowed me to speak freely for the first time. I am quite open with my cousins now, you see, but I have very little idea how to behave properly on my own. Please forgive me impertinence."
As Elizabeth listened to this rushed, disjointed explanation, her heart began to swell with sympathy for the odd girl. By all accounts, her hostess had spent her life mostly alone, save the companionship of a domineering mother.
Elizabeth took a few steps closer, then reached down and grasped the clenched, trembling fingers of a female who was a grown woman but still a child. "There is nothing to forgive. I can tell you have a kind, sincere heart, and I would be honored to be considered your friend. Please, call me Elizabeth."
Shining eyes lifted to meet Elizabeth's. "Truly?" came the whispered question.
"Truly," Elizabeth whispered fiercely.
A broad smile crossed Miss de Bourgh's face, and Elizabeth was struck by how attractive it made her new friend. "Oh, thank you! Please, you must call me Anne!"
Lydia — who had been watching the conversation with tears in her own eyes — quickly rushed forward and said, "And I am Lydia! I will be your friend, too!"
The three girls gripped hands tightly in silence for several minutes. Elizabeth looked over at her father to see what his feelings were about the situation. He was watching the three girls with a sad smile, eyes suspiciously bright. When he saw her watching, however, he cleared his throat and said a bit gruffly, "I am glad to see that you girls are getting along. Since we are all friends here, would it be too much trouble to ask for a bit of tea while we wait for our rooms?"
"Oh!" cried Miss de Bourgh — Anne — with a flushed face. "I am so sorry! How stupid of me to forget!"
"Not stupid," said Elizabeth with a forceful but kind tone. "It is perfectly understandable! You have been through so much. Our plans were to make ourselves as unobtrusive as possible. We can wait and take tea in our rooms, if they are ready."
"Let me find out." Anne crossed the room and rang the bell for a servant. "They should all be ready, but it has been so long since we've had guests, I'm not entirely certain in what state the rooms are. Oh! Not at they're in disrepair or anything, but they might be a bit dusty."
"Anything will be better than the bed at the Parsonage," Mr. Bennet assured her, involuntarily wrinkling his nose at the memory.
Everyone laughed. Anne let out a peal of girlish giggles, then quickly slapped a hand over her mouth, looking mortified. Elizabeth, however, continued laughing at her father. At seeing this, Anne quickly relaxed and began to giggle again.
It was in this state that the door opened. Instead of the expected servant, however, two gentlemen came into the room.
Elizabeth thought she might faint.
Anne beamed at the men and said, "Oh, hello! Let me introduce you! These are my cousins, Brigadier General Fitzwilliam and —"
Anne's voice was drowned by all three Bennets exclaiming, "Mr. Darcy!"