A Death at Rosings: A Pride & Prejudice Variation (2 page)

BOOK: A Death at Rosings: A Pride & Prejudice Variation
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“Everything in our library.”

“Your library looks like it has a lot of books.” An impressive number to collect, Elizabeth thought, and an even more impressive number to read. She made no pretense of having read all of the books in her father’s library, and it was nowhere near the size of the one at Rosings.

“There are five hundred and seventy-three. Yes, I counted them once. I’ve read them all. Some, I’ve read two or three times. I’ve read about philosophy, law and agriculture. I’ve read sermons and poetry. I’ve read
Gulliver’s Travels
and
Moll Flanders
. I’ve read
A Vindication of the Rights of Woman
 by Mary Wollstonecraft. Even when I’ve read a book before, I sometimes stay up late rereading it. When I wake up looking tired, everyone assumes I’m ill.”

“Have you read much that was published recently?” Elizabeth asked. She’d seen the library only once, but recalled many of the books looked quite old, as if the masters of Rosings had ceased adding to their collection at some point in the past. While all information was good, some topics changed enough over time to benefit from a more modern approach.

“I’ve bribed a couple of servants to bring me newspapers. I’ve arranged with one of the tenants to order books. I read them, and either hide them in a trunk I keep locked or give them to her to sell. Fortunately, no one pays much attention to my pocket money, since it comes from the interest on my dowry and is very generous.”

“If you inherit Rosings, you won’t have to read in secret. You’ll be able to add your books to Rosings’ collection.”

“My assumption is that I will only inherit Rosings in a way, but it will be enough of a way. My mother had life interest in Rosings, as will I. Though I won’t be able to sell it, and don’t wish to, I will have everything of the running of the estate and the benefits of it. That income is more than ample for my foreseeable needs. My mother also had a personal fortune. I believe it to be about forty thousand pounds. I’ll probably inherit most of it, though I tried to talk her into willing my cousin Richard something significant. He and Darcy help with the estate. Richard deserves something for so many years of care.”

“Richard?” Elizabeth asked, unsure who she meant, though she guessed that must be Colonel Fitzwilliam’s given name.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Miss de Bourgh confirmed. “I didn’t ask Mother to do anything for Darcy. He has plenty of money of his own.”

If Miss de Bourgh knew of Darcy’s offer to her, would she have had the tact not to mention the fortune Elizabeth had turned down? More likely, if Miss de Bourgh knew of Darcy’s offer they wouldn’t be having the conversation at all. “That seems logical. Colonel Fitzwilliam seems a worthy man on whom to bestow a windfall. I still don’t understand why you’re telling me all of this, though.”

“I know books. I don’t know people. I don’t know life. In recent years, we rarely even had guests. Not even the neighbors. It will likely come as no shock to you that many of them didn’t like my mother. Most claimed to be too busy to visit. Some may have been willing to come back, but she didn’t like them, especially anyone who was provoked to impoliteness by her impertinent questions.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Collins always seem happy to visit, and Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were only recently here,” Elizabeth protested, not wanting Miss de Bourgh to feel too much alone in the world.

“Mr. and Mrs. Collins were always good enough to put up with Mother,” Miss de Bourgh said. “I think he may even have genuinely enjoyed her attention, though I find the idea hard to believe. As for Darcy and Richard, they visited out of familial obligation. They made their time here go smoothly by always giving in to Mother.”

“I can think of one point on which Mr. Darcy didn’t seem ready to give in to your mother,” Elizabeth couldn’t resist making the reference. She found she wanted to know where Miss de Bourgh’s thoughts were on the issue of her near engagement to Mr. Darcy.

“Yes, on the issue of his marrying me.” Miss de Bourgh’s eyes narrowed. “You should know, I think, that I never wanted to marry Darcy. Mother wouldn’t believe me, of course, but she never listened to anything I said. She didn’t think I had a mind. I wouldn’t want you to ever feel that I had any intentions toward Darcy.”

Elizabeth felt her face heat slightly and wished she hadn’t allowed her curiosity to direct the conversation to so delicate a subject. “I still don’t know why you wished to talk with me,” she said, changing the subject. Perhaps Miss de Bourgh simply wanted to talk to someone? She didn’t have any friends. Not that Elizabeth knew of, at any rate. “Wouldn’t Mrs. Jenkinson be a better person to talk to about all of this?”

“Absolutely not,” Miss de Bourgh said in a firm tone. “She never wishes to speak to me about anything other than my health. Anything I do say to her, she used to report back to my mother. I haven’t told her yet, but I’m letting her go.”

“Does she have a place to go?” Elizabeth asked, shocked. Mrs. Jenkinson likely thought her position quite secure. Normally it would be, but Elizabeth agreed that Miss de Bourgh shouldn’t gloss over years of spying. She wondered why Miss de Bourgh hadn’t replaced her companion with someone more trustworthy long ago.

“I don’t care if she has a place to go,” Miss de Bourgh said.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.

“Yes, I do care,” Miss de Bourgh amended with a sigh. “I’ll be arranging a pension for her. It will be through the bank, since I don’t want to be bothered. She has five siblings and numerous nephews and nieces. I’m sure one of them will be glad to have her and her pension, although it will be enough for her to live alone if she chooses.”

“That’s very generous of you,” Elizabeth said, still confused. If Miss de Bourgh cared enough to be so generous, why was she letting the woman go? It wasn’t as if she could still spy for Lady Catherine. Elizabeth supposed the bond of trust was irreparably broken. An unhappy suspicion built in her. If Miss de Bourgh was letting Mrs. Jenkinson go . . . “Why do you want me?”

“I want you to be my companion.”

“Your companion? I can’t do that!” Elizabeth was not quite insulted. It was actually a good offer for someone who had as little chance of finding marital happiness as she seemed to. She wasn’t willing to give up on her own household yet, though, and forever label herself a spinster and ladies’ companion. Why, she may as well become a governess and work for a living.

“No, of course not. You are neither married nor a widow,” Miss de Bourgh said. “I chose my words poorly. I asked a distant cousin to come. She will fill that role. Mrs. Allen. She’s biddable and won’t interfere with my life. All she wants is a good table.”

Elizabeth relaxed slightly. “What do you mean, then, by companion?”

“I need a friend. Someone I can ask guidance from. As I said, I don’t know anything yet about interacting in the real world, only in books. My uncle, my mother’s brother, is sure to try to impose someone on me. He’ll ignore that I have Mrs. Allen here for the same reason I want her; she won’t control me.”

“Surly Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam will offer you guidance? Your uncle can’t fail to be pleased with that.”

Miss de Bourgh nodded. “I agree, they are certain to advise me, and I shall consider any advice they give. Their advice will assuredly be in keeping with what they see as my best interests. I wonder, though, if it will always be in keeping with my wishes? I want someone I can trust to be on my side.” She looked at Elizabeth with pleading eyes. “I need someone who places me first, Miss Bennet. Above Rosings.”

What Miss de Bourgh needed was a loving husband, but Elizabeth didn’t know how to produce one of those. She and her four unmarried sisters were proof enough of her inability to do so. She pressed her lips together, trying to think of a polite way to refuse what was a rather daunting offer.

“I don’t want another man telling me what to do,” Miss de Bourgh said, almost as if she could read Elizabeth’s thoughts. “I’ll have enough of that with Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam and my uncle. I want a woman’s point of view, and I need someone who can stand up to them, or they’ll run Rosings and I’ll sit alone and useless in this giant house, day in and day out, until my entire life has passed me by.”

Elizabeth could sympathize, but Miss de Bourgh was asking too much of her, especially if she was supposed to stand up to Mr. Darcy, whom she hardly wished to see again, let alone argue with. She didn’t care to add any more insult there, earned or erroneous. “I have a home,” she said. “My father misses me already.”

“I’m not asking you to stay forever,” Miss de Bourgh said. “Only until I learn to manage Rosings. I’m not a foolish person. I’m sure I can learn with some rapidity, and I’ll have the imminence of your departure to spur me on. Please, Miss Bennet. I really have nowhere else to turn.”

“I might stay for a week or two,” Elizabeth said, moved. “But no longer. I have a life of my own to live.” Even as she said it, she wondered how she was meant to stand up
for
Miss de Bourgh when she couldn’t even stand up
to
her. If Miss de Bourgh was aware of the irony of Elizabeth’s capitulation, it didn’t show on her face.

“Two weeks won’t be enough,” Miss de Bourgh said. “I know I’m asking a lot and that you should receive some sort of compensation for giving up your time. I’m willing to pay you one hundred pounds a month. If you stay for a year, and invest it, you’ll have fifty or sixty pounds a year off it in interest.”

Elizabeth shook her head, opening her mouth to decline, although she knew the offer was extraordinarily generous.

“You can leave anytime you like and I’ll give you transportation home,” Miss de Bourgh continued before Elizabeth could speak. “I’ll give you a small amount of spending money as well, while you’re here. I know your father’s estate is entailed to Mr. Collins. You could buy yourself security with what I’m offering.”

“You think you can bribe me to stay?” Elizabeth asked, truly offended this time. Why was it that people who had money assumed that people who didn’t have as much would do anything for it? Did they think they were the only ones who could afford integrity?

“I wish I could,” Miss de Bourgh, sinking back against the settee. She looked wan, and frail. “I don’t believe you to be bribable. I suppose if you were, I wouldn’t want your help so desperately. Don’t be insulted.”

“I most certainly won’t be, if you aren’t insulting me,” Elizabeth said. She took a deep breath, trying to apply logic to the situation. Her father sometimes told her not to be headstrong. In her relationship with Mr. Darcy she’d been headstrong in believing the worst of him and also in insulting him when he proposed. She cringed inwardly, knowing what her father would think of that. Worse, what her mother would. Elizabeth knew she needed to learn to think more of her familial obligations. It wasn’t as if Miss de Bourgh was asking her for a lifelong commitment, like Mr. Collins or Mr. Darcy had.

“I’m not insulting you,” Miss de Bourgh said. “It isn’t a bribe. Believe me, you will earn your money. I know as a gentleman’s daughter you aren’t used to thinking of earning money, but you can, and without shame. In truth, you’d be almost noble. You can stand between me and my uncle. You can keep me from being an utter fool. I need you. I’m offering money because it is the only currency I know how to deal in.”

Miss de Bourgh was giving a better argument than money. Staying a few weeks or even a few months to help someone who needed it was the right thing to do. She could always return home if things became unreasonable. Probably she wouldn’t be needed after a month, and that wasn’t a lot of time to give someone who seemed to have so much, but in reality had so little.

“Even though I will be in deep mourning, suitors will approach me,” Miss de Bourgh said. She leaned forward, looking hopeful, perhaps seeing something of the war waging inside Elizabeth, though she was trying to keep her visage calm. “Maybe you’ll catch one. I know from Mrs. Collins that your mother would be upset if you didn’t take advantage of that. I’ll invite your sisters to visit. They might catch suitors as well.”

Elizabeth sighed. No, she couldn’t be bribed. Not with money, at least. Love for her family was a different matter, however. Not only that, she realized, looking at the hope on Miss de Bourgh’s thin face. Miss de Bourgh truly did need help. Even that morning, Elizabeth had contemplated how few people Miss de Bourgh had in her life, and fewer still whom she could trust. Not that Elizabeth didn’t think Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam trustworthy, but did they know their cousin at all? Would they consult Miss de Bourgh and listen to her thoughts, or would they treat her as her mother had and uncle would?

“I’d be honored to stay, Miss de Bourgh,” Elizabeth said. “However, I must decline being paid. It doesn’t seem right that I should be your guest, sleep under your roof and dine at your table, and also take your money. My conscience won’t permit it.”

She would content herself with the money her parents would save without her there to feed and with the opportunity to invite her sisters to meet suitors. It was a nice dream, saving up enough to buy security for her sisters, but Elizabeth didn’t mean to remain long enough for that dream to ever take shape.

Miss de Bourgh smiled. “I’m so pleased you’ll remain,” she said. “Are you certain about the money? I really do feel you should be compensated. There’s no shame in it.”

“I’m adamantly certain,” Elizabeth said.

“At least allow me to match whatever amount of pocket money it is you receive from your father,” Miss de Bourgh said. “That way, you can allow him to save, or you can have the opportunity to do so.”

BOOK: A Death at Rosings: A Pride & Prejudice Variation
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