Voices in the Dark Page 2

  Lizzy had sat with her arms wrapped around her to control the frightened shivering while Uncle Gardiner informed her mother that the Phillips would not take them in either, not by herself, not with her daughters. Their house was too small, and they had no wish to be burdened with any Bennet female, let alone the whole group of them. Eventually, he had enough of her mother's fussing and walked out, saying he was going to the study to begin packing away the books, leaving his sister to wail even louder after he was gone.

  At least the distraction of his departure allowed Lizzy an opportunity to escape the room. What she could not escape were her own fears for the future. Nothing had turned out as she expected it might – well, nothing aside from her mother’s endless complaints and inability to take responsibility for herself. Lizzy had gone out for a long walk to think but returned just as confused and disillusioned.

  Thinking over the situation again as she waited in the carriage for the horses to rest, Lizzy had the perspective granted by distance, more experience and time. That horrible few days had been nearly two months prior. She knew now that her uncles were protecting themselves from her mother. Mrs. Bennet would have exploited any hint of weakness they showed. She had a way of doing that. But even when her mother was not in the room, Lizzy’s Uncle Gardiner had shown neither pity nor kindness to any of the others. Lizzy had always looked up to him and thought that he and her aunt were kind people who loved her. The message he gave, loud and clear, was that any closeness she had felt was an illusion. He would do what he could to see they had a place to live and something to support themselves on, but he was doing it because society, or rather his clients, expected a man to take some notice of family.

  Worse yet, from Lizzy’s point of view, he brought word that Jane felt much the same way. Apparently, she had so little desire for contact with any member of her family that she could not even write a note to Lizzy to say goodbye when asking her younger sister to pack her trunk.

  Uncle Gardiner had said, “I asked if she wished me to carry a note. She told me there was nothing to say beyond a request that you pack her belongings carefully, which I could tell you in person. She is ready to move on. Without your mother's interference, we will find her a husband quickly and she will have her own life. You are no longer a part of that. You must understand, Lizzy, the closeness you apparently thought was between you was just a product of being forced to live in the same household. She is nothing like you, but she saw no reason to ever argue with you about anything."

  That revelation had been the hardest one for Lizzy to accept. More than anyone else in the world, Jane had been the one Lizzy thought she could always count on. Additional discussion with Uncle Gardiner revealed that, far from being the close confidant Lizzy had imagined, Jane had been placating her younger sister as a means of keeping things peaceful between them in a household where nothing else was. It still hurt and it left Lizzy feeling as if her whole life was an illusion or fever dream.

  This journey was no illusion, however. The bump, rattle and squeak of the carriage, the road dust, the discomfort – they were all real. She was on her way to a new and probably dismal future, courtesy of her mother and Mr. Collins.

  Chapter 2: Journey to Rosings Park

  Despite their many flaws and the myriad ways they annoyed her, Lizzy did love her family. At the very least, she wanted the best for them even if they wanted none of her. Now she had learned that feeling was not returned by any of them, except possibly Mary, and even her apparent kindness could be put down to keeping up appearances.

  Lizzy had always known that Mr. Bennet could be cruel. He was certainly lazy and self- centered. All the same, he had given her a love of books and learning which he nurtured through access to his library and practice in discussion and debate. Lizzy had the kind of education any gentleman who had graduated from Oxford or Cambridge could be proud of. Of course, Lizzy was no gentleman.

  The same change in perspective that allowed her to understand the behavior of her uncles showed Lizzy now that her father had always had an ulterior motive for the attention and education that he gave her. He was a man of good education himself, but he always liked to be the one in control and the one acknowledged as correct. In a household where it was rare to hear two words of sense spoken together, he trained his daughter to be his equal in learning while knowing he would forever have the edge of authority over her. No matter how they debated or how well she supported her arguments, inevitably he was the winner of any dispute. He could have the intellectual stimulation he craved without any threat to his self-esteem. She was, after all, only a girl and any challenge she offered could be discarded on those grounds alone.

  A girl had no need for an extensive education according to Mrs. Bennet. In her opinion, in fact, a girl had no need for any real education at all. Fortunately for her peace of mind, Lizzy and Mary were the only ones who showed any aptitude for learning. Mary confined herself to the sermons of Fordyce and similar texts on the proper behavior of a modest woman. Mrs. Bennet could make cutting comments about Mary’s desire to read, but the subject matter was no threat and acceptable enough for a female.

  Lizzy’s education was another matter entirely. She had always felt lucky that her father had chosen her to learn the things she assumed he would have taught a son. She felt flattered that her father engaged her in discussion and encouraged her to debate ideas. He shared his little jokes and criticisms of their neighbors and taught her to be amused by contradictions between their speech and their behavior. He made her feel special because she was his favorite. That was what she thought, anyway.

  Now she knew that she was not special to her father any more than she had been to Jane. Beyond the benefit to her father in having a conversation companion, her education was just another way to annoy Mrs. Bennet. According to Uncle Gardiner, Lizzy’s father had turned her into the kind of independent bluestocking no man would want to marry, which was fine if you had money enough to support yourself, but poison for a girl in her circumstances. Since getting her girls married as soon as possible was the stated goal of Mrs. Bennet’s life, having an over-educated, opinionated and unmarriageable daughter was a foot-long thorn in her side, which now seemed to have been Mr. Bennet’s plan.

  Of course, they were not quite right about no man wanting to marry her. Mr. Collins did – at first, anyway. Mr. Collins was also a fool and there was no way Lizzy would have accepted his suit.

  He showed up at Longbourn, puffed up with pride at his new position as a landowner along with ridiculous tales about the importance of his previous position as a clergyman for the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings Park in Kent. He spoke of his “noble patroness” as if she, not God, was the divine being to whom he owed slavish devotion. Listening to his comments, Lizzy wondered if Lady Catherine had found being worshiped by the clownish, awkward man as offensive as she, herself, felt about his bumbling attempts at courtship.

  Whatever Lady Catherine’s feelings, Lizzy’s position as an object of Mr. Collins’ designs was largely due to the noble lady. She had, apparently, decreed that Mr. Collins should marry one of his cousins to make amends for having inherited their family home. Had Mr. Collins been a less foolish and repugnant man, it would have been a reasonable and kind idea. Even with all his personal defects, Lizzy had known from the first that Mary would accept him without hesitation if he asked her.

  Contrary to Mrs. Bennet’s fears, Mr. Collins allowed the Bennet women to remain at Longbourn while Mr. Phillips and Mr. Gardiner completed the purchase of the cottage with the funds from the sale of Mr. Bennet’s books. The new master of Longbourn had complained at first about the books not coming with the house, but Mr. Phillips explained that they were Mr. Bennet’s private property and the only support the women would have unless Mr. Collins chose to keep them in his home for good. Generous though he might wish to appear, the prospect of having Mrs. Bennet as a permanent resident did not appeal, so he played the part of the magnanimous host for a few weeks, taking h
is due from the women in bald requests for their gratitude, and made no more complaints about losing a bunch of books he would never have read anyway.

  The youngest of his cousins, he viewed with contempt for their poor behavior. The middle daughter was treated with reasonable courtesy whenever he noticed her. He had little attention to spare for Mary, however, once he decided that Lizzy was the partner of his future life. He doggedly hung on to that delusion in the face of all Lizzy’s strong hints that his attention was unwelcome, including the way she would leave any time he entered a room just to get away from him. Being a resident, or more properly a guest, in his house curtailed Lizzy’s ability to stay out of his presence entirely.

  Matters for Lizzy came to a head the day prior to this journey. Mr. Phillips visited early in the morning with word Mr. Gardiner had received full payment for the books and sold all the other personal items he had carried to London. The two men had purchased a cottage on the far edge of Meryton, away from both Longbourn and the Phillips home. As Mr. Gardiner had promised, the remaining funds, with an exception, were added to the settlement for Mrs. Bennet, the interest of which would pay for their living expenses. The exception consisted of five trust funds of fifty pounds each to serve as dowries for the five Bennet daughters. Each daughter could collect the interest quarterly but could not access the principle until reaching the age of twenty-five if she remained unmarried. If she married prior to her twenty-fifth birthday the trust fund would be transferred to her husband intact as her dowry. Mr. Gardiner would handle management of the funds.

  Mr. Phillips told Mrs. Bennet the house was ready for her to move there immediately and he had hired a woman to serve as both cook and maid of all work. He suggested Mr. Collins might be willing to allow the ladies the use of a cart from Longbourn to move their personal items to their new home. Then he handed her the door key and left before anything further could be asked of him.

  From her frequent walks, Lizzy knew the cottage by sight. It was tiny, but it had three bedrooms for family. With the first quarter's expense fund her uncle had sent and a little work on their part, she believed they could do well enough in it. It had to be an improvement on living with Mr. Collins. Her mother's opinion on the matter came as a surprise, although in hindsight Lizzy should have expected it.

  On being applied to in the breakfast room, Mr. Collins agreed to Mrs. Bennet's request for both the cart and the carriage to transport her to her new home. She loudly directed Kitty and Lydia to head upstairs pack their things.

  "The three of us will do very well in the cottage and I should be able to find good husbands for you both now that you have a dowry," she said as she shooed her two youngest out of the room and up the stairs in front of her.

  "The five of us, Mama," said Lizzy, who had stepped out of the sitting room on hearing her mother’s voice in the hall. "Mary and I are coming too."

  "Oh no you are not!" said Mrs. Bennet frostily. "I will not have you there, ruining things for your sisters. You constantly try to correct them and tame their spirits. You interfere in everything. We do not have room for you."

  "The cottage has three bedrooms, Mama. There is one for you, one for Kitty and Lydia to share and one for Mary and me. You cannot leave us here."

  "I most certainly can. I do not want either of you with us. Kitty, Lydia and I shall each have a room of their own. The house is simply too small for you to live there as well."

  "But Uncle Gardiner said you would need me to manage the budget. Mary and I will help make sure we continue to have enough food and supplies for us all."

  "There is just enough for the three of us. You will be no help whatsoever. You always think you know so much. I have run a house for longer than you have been alive, Missy. I do not need or want your help."

  "But where will we go? We cannot stay here. It would not be right for us to stay by ourselves in the house of an unmarried man."

  "I never understood why your father always claimed you were the smartest of his daughters, Lizzy. The answer is simple. If you cannot stay in the house of an unmarried man one of you must marry him. Quickly, too, before he decides to go elsewhere. It is not as if anyone else would marry either of you."

  "Mama! You cannot be serious!"

  "I certainly am. I will not have you in my house. If you do not wish to stay here, then you may go live in the hedgerows. I am done with you." With that Mrs. Bennet flounced upstairs leaving Lizzy dumbstruck at the bottom step.

  When Mary approached Lizzy a few minutes later to thank her for trying to include her, followed by a request to remain at Longbourn after Lizzy’s marriage to its master, it was all Lizzy could do to speak coherently in response. Any remaining restraint in her speech had fallen away as Lizzy revealed to her younger sister exactly how poorly she thought of Mr. Collins. Above all, she declared unequivocally that she would never marry him.

  Even thinking about it there in the carriage, knowing the results of her comments on the course of her future, Lizzy was not at all certain she would have said anything different. If she had known Mr. Collins was listening in on the conversation, she might have softened the personal comments about him, but the sentiment remained the same. It did, at least, finally put him off the idea of marrying her. That was a blessing.

  In fact, he immediately proposed to Mary, declaring her to be the sister who was beautiful in spirit and not an ungrateful viper in his bosom. He was accepted gladly by the new object of his affections. The day was early enough they decided to visit the vicar immediately and wed by common license that very morning, before Mrs. Bennet and the others needed the carriage for their trip to the cottage.

  It was Mary who persuaded Mr. Collins not to throw Lizzy off the property then and there. As she asked him what Lady Catherine would think, he remembered his noble patroness had told him he could send one of his cousins to her as a companion at his discretion. Knowing that Mrs. Bennet remained determined not to accept her second daughter into her house and both Mr. Phillips and Mr. Gardiner had been equally clear she was not welcome with them, it did not take long for Lizzy to decide that taking a situation as a companion was a better choice than trying to make her own way in the world on the few pounds she had saved up from her allowance over the years.

  Before heading off to the wedding, Mr. Collins sent an express to Lady Catherine notifying her of the imminent arrival of his disgraced cousin. He had wanted to send Lizzy in the donkey cart with only the stable man for a companion, but Mary convinced him that would he would appear churlish in Lady Catherine’s eyes if he did not treat Lizzy as the gentleman’s daughter she was. Both the donkey cart and forcing her to travel unaccompanied would reflect poorly on Mr. Collins.

  Hannah, who had once been the single maid serving all five Bennet daughters, was remaining at Longbourn as Mary’s personal maid. The new Mrs. Collins sent her to be a traveling companion to Lizzy and keep her reputation intact. It was a very kind gesture on Mary’s part and showed she knew how to manage her husband in a way Lizzy never could have done.

  Now, here Lizzy was, the day after her younger sister’s wedding, traveling to Rosings Park in what had been the Bennet carriage but was now the property of Mr. and Mrs. Collins, squeaks and all. Idly, she wondered if Mr. Collins would ever get around to having the carriage repaired. Perhaps he would if Mary insisted on it.

  From outside the vehicle, Lizzy heard the driver getting ready to start back on the road again. The carriage rocked a bit as the horses shifted in their traces. Hannah put aside the fine work and picked up her original project as they began to move. Lizzy put away her knitting and sat back in the seat. This time she would watch the scenery outside instead of the memories in her head. In just another hour or so, Lizzy would reach her destination. It was going to be the start of a whole new life.

  Chapter 3: A Change of Position

  For all Mr. Collins' stupidity, he had not been wrong when he said Rosings Park was a magnificent sight. Although perhaps magnificent was not the correct word. Impo
sing might do, yet it was not quite right either. The extremely formal park surrounding the house and the building itself were impressive and something more. Lizzy thought it was like a taste that hangs just on the edge of your tongue. You knew it was there but could not quite identify it. Was it salty? Was it sweet? Was it tangy? The answer was not clear.

  That was the problem, Lizzy realized. Something about Rosings Park was not quite clear. A shadow hung around it, although not a shadow one could see. It was a feeling that flickered across the age-worn stone and the dark windows that should have been reflecting the midday light. The whole house seemed to suck light into it and leave one feeling somewhat near sighted and out of focus.

  Lizzy exited the carriage, which dropped her at the front door then rolled around to the kitchen where Hannah would have a chance to eat a meal while the horses rested before returning to Longbourn. Lizzy assumed her trunk would be taken to whatever room she was assigned. She walked up the step and the door opened. A tall, stern-looking woman with steel gray hair pulled into a bun under a lace widow's cap said in a steely gray voice, "Miss Bennet?"

  Lizzy curtsied. "I am Elizabeth Bennet," she confirmed.

  "I am Mrs. Porter, the housekeeper. You will come this way. LadDy Catherine is expecting you."