On the ride from London to Hunsford Lodge, Lizzy reflected on all that had happened in the few months since Mr. Bingley had come to Netherfield Park, and in her musings, she also recalled the many conversations Jane and she had shared as young ladies on the cusp of adulthood. While snuggling in their bed, they talked of the men who would come into their lives and win their hearts. Ironically, it was Jane who was the more practical of the two. She wanted a man with a kind disposition, who was handsome and charming, and who would be able to provide for her and their children. Her greatest hope was that she would marry for love, but considering her lack of fortune, she realized it was all a matter of luck.
Lizzy, on the other hand, wanted a man of understanding who would engage her intellectually. Before they married, her husband would appreciate that she held opinions on matters great and small, and that there was a wider world she wanted to explore, even if she could only do so by reading magazines and newspapers and visiting the circulating library. And there were so many exciting things to read about and to discuss. England, most especially London, was at the center of the world, as was evidenced in the shops with their Chinese silks, American tobacco, Indian teas, and Madeira wines, and great political and military events were taking place on the Continent and in America.
But in one thing Jane and she were in complete agreement: Both wanted to marry for love. In Jane’s case, it had very nearly happened. Mr. Bingley was all Jane had ever wanted and more, and she had fallen deeply in love with him and he with her. So what had happened? She knew the answer to that question. Mr. Bingley’s sisters and Mr. Darcy had happened, and together they had worked against the match from the very beginning. She was sure that Caroline and Louisa were sensitive about the Bingley fortune having been made in trade, and it was their intention to climb the social ladder and never look back. It was obvious Mr. Darcy held considerable sway over his friend, and in the end, he was able to convince Mr. Bingley that marriage with Miss Bennet was not in his best interest.
At the Netherfield ball, if she had spent less time thinking about Mr. Wickham, she would have anticipated what was shortly to happen. She would have seen how the inappropriate behavior of her mother and sisters was being viewed by Caroline, Louisa, and Mr. Darcy. And to make matters worse, there was Mr. Collins. Anyone who condemned the behavior of her mother and three younger sisters would come to the conclusion that even the extended Bennet family lacked refinement and common sense.
But all that was in the past, and nothing would be gained by thinking about it. Lizzy refocused her attention on her visit with Mr. and Mrs. Collins, and a smile came to her face. Charlotte was her dearest friend, and there would be so much to discuss, and as for Mr. Collins, she could safely rely on him to be an endless source of amusement.
When the chaise pulled up in front of Hunsford Lodge, Lizzy understood why Charlotte could be happy here—even with Mr. Collins. It was a pretty house with a lovely garden and a fine view of Rosings Park, and it was near enough to the road leading into the village that Charlotte could easily visit with her neighbors.
As expected, as soon as Lizzy had both feet on the ground, Mr. Collins began to point out every advantage of living at the parsonage, clearly with the intention of making Lizzy regret her refusal of his offer. No matter how unexceptional or insignificant the object, right down to the fender in front of the fireplace, each merited a comment from her cousin. After the tour of the house had concluded, Mr. Collins led Lizzy to his favorite vantage point from which he could see Rosings Park and, therefore, the comings and goings of his esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
After supper, Charlotte remarked to her husband that Elizabeth had had a long journey and might wish to retire. With the excuse of making sure that everything was as it should be in Lizzy’s room, Charlotte went upstairs with her friend and closed the door.
“Finally, we are alone,” Charlotte said, and she gave Lizzy a hug. “How good it is to have company from home. After Papa and Maria left, I was quite homesick, but now you are here and I am content.”
“So tell me, Charlotte, is everything to your satisfaction?” Lizzy asked while sitting on the bed and unlacing her boots. “Do you take issue with any of Mr. Collins’s claims that everything is perfect and beyond criticism? You said that Lady Catherine was a most attentive neighbor, but I could not decide if you were praising or censuring her.”
“By attentive, I meant nosy,” Charlotte said, rolling her eyes. “When I said that she shows an interest in all we do, it was the truth, for nothing is beneath her notice. She comes into the house and finds fault with everything and everyone, leaves instructions for the necessary corrections, and departs. But despite all this, I am quite content to be here and to be the mistress of my own home, and for all of Mr. Collins’s faults, he is a kind man who sees to the needs of his parish.”
“I am happy to hear it, truly, but what about your needs?”
“Easily met. Monday and Tuesday are reserved for visits to his parishioners or church business. On Wednesday, we dine at Rosings Park, so that Lady Catherine may criticize the sermon Mr. Collins has written. He spends as much time as possible on Thursday in the garden, an activity he enjoys, and one which I encourage. It seems that Lady Catherine has outlived most of her friends, so we usually dine at the manor house on Friday as well so that we might entertain Her Ladyship. On Saturday, we do all our shopping for the week in the village, and that night, we perform as man and wife. Sunday, he preaches, and then the cycle repeats. Very little changes from week to week, and because my marriage is lacking in romance, I can see you are unimpressed.”
“Charlotte, I made no comment.” Nor would she. The thought of Mr. Collins performing as a husband could result in the loss of her appetite.
“Lizzy, you do not need to say anything. Unlike you, I never was romantic. All I asked was a comfortable home, and I have that. But speaking of romance, Miss de Bourgh called this morning to say that they are to have visitors at Rosings, her cousins Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy. What a coincidence! You are here, and Mr. Darcy is coming to visit his aunt.”
“Surely, Mr. Darcy is free to travel about the country without giving any consideration as to where I might be,” Lizzy said, confused at Charlotte’s continued insistence that the gentleman had some interest in her.
Charlotte just nodded, but she thought it unusual that Mr. Darcy was coming to Kent when he had just been to Rosings a few weeks earlier. There must be a special reason for him to return so quickly.