Page 39 of Such Low Connections

A stately and sharp-eyed figure in brown velvet and pearls, Lady Catherine greeted them with great interest and somewhat less politeness, cutting imperiously across Mr Collins’ attempted introductions and bidding the two young ladies to come forward so that she could inspect them better.

“Yes, you are both very much as I expected,” the lady of Rosings Park pronounced after peering through her lorgnette for what seemed like a whole minute, much to the terror of Maria, whom Elizabeth could feel trembling beside her. “Miss Lucas has the look of her sister, though she is rather prettier, and you are quite what I imagined, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Thank you, Lady Catherine,” Elizabeth ventured with a smaller smile than she wished to give in response to this performance. “Rosings Park is very much as I expected, too.”

Lady Catherine blinked, and behind Elizabeth, Mr Collins took a sharp breath.

“That is to say, Rosings Park is every bit as impressive as I expected. Mr and Mrs Collins have described it to me as one of the grandest houses in England. Now I see for myself that their praise was merited.”

“Yes, I daresay there are not many houses of Rosings’ stature in Hertfordshire,” responded Lady Catherine, looking mollified by this praise. “Does not your family go up to London for the Season? If Anne’s health allowed, I should always be in London for the Season.”

Elizabeth shook her head, wondering whether they would ever actually be invited to sit down and offered tea. A rather pale and languid-looking young woman on a small sofa close to Lady Catherine was presumably the sickly Miss Anne de Burgh, and a plain middle-aged woman in black beside her was likely a companion or nurse. Neither spoke nor smiled, and Lady Catherine was still awaiting an answer.

“My father has no liking for London,” Elizabeth explained. “Nor for wider society.”

Lady Catherine tutted in disapproval.

“Five daughters unmarried, Mr Collins tells me, and your father has no liking for London. How do your parents intend to find you all husbands, pray? It seems very shortsighted to me, and you must tell that to your mother. There cannot possibly be enough eligible gentlemen in the countryside for all of you. It is most extraordinary.”

“My mother is quite of your mind, Lady Catherine. I daresay she would take us all to London tomorrow if she could,” Elizabeth said easily. “It is only that my father will not be moved from his library.”

Lady Catherine looked even more astonished at these statements, or perhaps only at Elizabeth herself for feeling sufficiently un-awed and free to make them. Someone else in the room smothered a low guffaw on hearing these words.

Turning her head slightly, Elizabeth glimpsed two gentlemen in the corner behind the door and felt somewhat abashed. She might not have spoken quite as she did before complete strangers. Not wishing to offend Lady Catherine, she did not turn around entirely and was therefore unaware of their identities until they were called forward.

“I believe you already know my nephew, Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, and his friend, Mr Bingley,” stated Lady Catherine, beckoning the gentlemen to stand beside her.

Utterly unprepared to meet either of these men, Elizabeth exchanged bows, glad for the chance to drop her eyes. Maria followed suit beside her. When Elizabeth finally looked at their faces, she saw that Mr Bingley looked somewhat pink and abashed, while Mr Darcy was regarding her with discomfiting and unaccountable interest.

“Are all your family in good health, Miss Elizabeth?” Mr Bingley asked, seemingly not aware of Lady Catherine’s indignant expression at his turning of the conversation from her own set path. “I trust they are all well at Longbourn?”

“All are very well, sir,” Elizabeth answered frankly, “although not all are at Longbourn. Jane has been with my uncle and aunt in London since Christmas, as you likely know from your sister.”

Mr Bingley goggled at her, as though not understanding a word she had said.

“In London?” he repeated. “My sister?”

“Yes, I understood from Jane’s letters that Miss Bingley called on her at Gracechurch Street in January. However, it was only a brief visit, and perhaps your sister forgot to mention it to you.”

“Miss Bingley has been staying with Mrs Hurst at Grosvenor Square,” Mr Darcy put in, and Elizabeth and Mr Bingley both nodded acknowledgement.

“Yes, Caroline must have forgotten to mention that to me,” Mr Bingley said rather unconvincingly, looking more shamefaced than ever. “I hope that…”

“We shall take some tea,” announced Lady Catherine, losing patience with this conversation in which she had no part, no knowledge of the principles, and no interest.

Ringing a silver bell on the table beside her, she finally motioned for her guests to take their seats on the assorted couches and chairs.

“Do sit there beside Anne, Fitzwilliam,” instructed his aunt when he seemed about to join Mr Bingley on a couch with Elizabeth. “There is plenty of room. Miss Lucas can sit with her sister and Mr Collins, and Sir William must have the chair opposite mine.”

While Elizabeth felt some relief at being spared Mr Darcy’s close company and hopeful of being able to interrogate Mr Bingley more meaningfully in his friend’s absence, she perceived that he did not seem to share her satisfaction. In fact, for a moment, his expression was positively mutinous, and it seemed that he might refuse Lady Catherine’s edict.

Anne de Bourgh, however, had already moved to make space for her cousin, and her attendant was rearranging cushions and fussing over a screen to shield her from any draught. Perhaps perceiving that refusal would cause inconvenience to more people than Lady Catherine, Mr Darcy sat down where he was bid and nodded politely to both Miss de Bourgh and her companion.

“How long will your sister remain in London, Miss Elizabeth?” asked Mr Bingley, drawing Elizabeth’s attention back to her own seat. “I am sure that my sisters will wish to see Miss Bennet again before she departs for Longbourn.”

“I cannot say exactly when Jane will leave, but it cannot be much more than another fortnight. Have you and your sisters no intention of returning to Netherfield Park, Mr Bingley?” Elizabeth put to him. “They might see Jane there at their leisure.”

“I still have business in London,” Mr Bingley told her, his expression deeply conflicted. “Or at least Darcy does, and I must stay with him. I do miss Netherfield very much. Once matters are dealt with, I hope to return and never leave!”