‘A phaeton and pair? What is this? An equipage for an outing? I must have my share of the pleasure. I like a ride round the park of all things. I would have learned to drive if Sir Lewis had taught me, and I would have excelled at it,’ said Lady Catherine. ‘Sir Lewis told me so himself. You must let me know when you mean to go. I will come with you, and so will Anne.’
‘But there are only two seats,’ Elizabeth pointed out.
‘Then Anne and I will take the carriage.’
‘I am persuaded your ladyship will not like the expedition,’ said Elizabeth. ‘We will not only be going down by the river, we will also be going through the woods.’
‘What does that signify?’ demanded Lady Catherine.
‘The woods are my greatest pleasure. When my sister was alive, we drove there often.’
‘But, as your ladyship informed me at our last meeting, my presence has polluted them,’ said Elizabeth archly.
My aunt could think of no reply. I have never known her to be lost for words, and it was a welcome experience.
She was not to be bested, however, and after a minute she overcame her astonishment and said: ‘Your mother and sisters are coming, I understand?’
‘Yes, they are.’
‘All of them?’
‘Yes, all of them.’
‘What, even the one who ran off with the son of Darcy’s steward?’
‘Yes. Even Lydia,’ said Elizabeth gravely, but with a smile in her eye.
‘I hear your mother received her at Longbourn, after her scandalous behaviour. It cannot be true, of course.
The report must be false. No mother could endorse such infamy on the part of her daughter. She would immediately cast her off and leave her to suffer the consequences of her behaviour.’
In her estimation of Mrs Bennet’s character she was entirely wrong. Mrs Bennet arrived soon after her brother and his wife, and not only did she endorse Lydia’s behaviour, she gloried in it.
‘Lady Catherine, how good it is to see you again,’ she said as she made her curtsy. ‘It seems like only yesterday you were visiting us at Longbourn, bringing us word of Charlotte on your way through the village. If you had told me then what I know now, I should not have believed you. My Lizzy, to marry Mr Darcy! Of course, it is not to be wondered at. She has always been a very good sort of girl, quite her father’s favourite, and though Jane has more beauty, Lizzy has more wit, though of course I should not call her Lizzy any more, I should call her Mrs Darcy. Mrs Darcy! How well it sounds. And to think, she is the mistress of Pemberley! I knew she could not be so lively for nothing. Pemberley is a very fine house. I had no idea it would be quite so fine. Lucas Lodge is nothing to it, and it is even better than the great house at Stoke.
As for Purvis Lodge, it has the most dreadful attics, but Lizzy – Mrs Darcy – assures me that the attics at Pemberley are quite the best she has ever seen.’
‘I am sure she will give you a tour of them, if you ask her nicely,’ said Mr Bennet dryly, as he stepped forward and kissed Elizabeth. ‘How are you, Lizzy? You look well.’
‘I am well, Papa.’
‘Darcy is treating you well?’
‘Yes, he is.’
‘Good. Then I do not have to challenge him to a duel.’
‘I hope you will go fishing with me instead, sir,’ I said.
‘I will be glad to do so.’
‘And you, too, are included in the invitation, of course,’ I said to Mr Gardiner.
‘It will give me great pleasure.’
‘What do you think of my bonnet, Lizzy?’ asked Lydia, coming forward. ‘Is it not delightful? I got it yesterday.’
‘I thought you needed to economize,’ said Elizabeth.
‘I did,’ said Lydia. ‘There were three bonnets I liked in the shop, and I bought only the one.’
‘From all I have read, the practising of economy does not come naturally to females,’ said Mary. ‘They must study it diligently if they are not to let their expenditure exceed their income.’
‘Well said, Mary. Very well put,’ said Mrs Bennet. She turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam. ‘Such an accomplished girl. She reads I do not know how many books. She will make some lucky soldier an excellent wife.’
For the first time in my life, I saw my cousin nonplussed. He was not required to reply, however, for whilst Lydia went over to the mirror and began to admire herself, Mrs Bennet resumed her conversation.
‘When you drove away from us after your visit to Longbourn, Lady Catherine, I had no more idea of our being related than I had of the cat going to see the queen, but now we are family.’
‘Indeed we are not,’ said my aunt indignantly.
‘But yes! Your nephew is married to my daughter. That makes us cousins of a sort. My cousin, Lady Catherine!
How envious Lady Lucas was when I told her, for she is not a real lady of course, she was only made a lady when Sir William was given a knighthood, on account of an address he made to the king. She was plain Mrs Lucas before that, and her husband was in trade in Meryton. He gave it up when he was made Sir William, but birth shows.’
‘It does indeed,’ remarked Lady Catherine pointedly.
‘And this is the girl who ran off with the steward’s son?’ she demanded, turning to Kitty.
‘No, I am not,’ said Kitty, blushing.
‘This is my second youngest, Kitty,’ said Mrs Bennet.
‘Such a good girl! Such manners! And in the way to becoming a beauty. She will turn heads before she is much older, mark my words. Not that she has not already done so. Captain Denny was very taken with her, and there were one or two other officers who singled Kitty out, though she is so young, but –’
‘It cannot be you,’ said Lady Catherine, cutting across Mrs Bennet and turning to Lydia. ‘You are a child.’
Lydia did not turn round but, having removed her bonnet, fluffed her curls in front of the mirror.
‘La! What nonsense you do speak!’ she declared. ‘I have been married these four months. My dear Wickham and I were married in September. I am quite the matron.’
She turned round and faced Lady Catherine. ‘I am so pleased to meet you,’ she said, extending her hand as though she was a duchess and my aunt a farmer’s wife.
‘My dear Wickham’s told me all about you.’
‘Has he indeed,’ said Lady Catherine awfully, ignoring her hand.
Lydia dropped it, unabashed, and turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam, going towards him with hand outstretched.
‘La! An officer. It does my heart good to see a red coat. It reminds me of my dear Wickham.’
‘I always liked a man in a red coat,’ said Mrs Bennet to Lady Catherine. ‘Lydia takes after me.’
‘Unfortunately for those of us who like rational conversation,’ said Mr Bennet. ‘Darcy, do you have a billiard room here?’
‘I do, sir. Allow me to show it to you. Gentlemen?’
And so saying, I rescued them from the ladies.
‘My wife is a constant source of amusement to me,’ said Mr Bennet as we left the room, ‘and Lydia even more so. I had great hopes of Mary, but she has become less silly now that she goes out more, and doesn’t suffer in comparison with her sisters, though her outburst today gives me hope that her silliness has not entirely disappeared. Kitty, too, looks set to disappoint me. She has become so rational a creature now that she spends two days out of every three at Netherfield that I fear she will grow up to be a sensible young lady after all.’
I am still not easy with Mr Bennet’s way of speaking of his daughters, but as his levity helped to shape Elizabeth’s playful character, I suppose I cannot complain.
Elizabeth took her aunt through the grounds in the phaeton and pair today as promised, and the two of them returned with bright eyes and a healthy glow on their cheeks.