The Guest | F. Darcy

Chapter 1: Lady Catherine

The morning arrived far too soon for Adele's liking. As she made her way to her room for her toilette, she overheard Mr. Collins speaking to Elizabeth in his usual self-important tone.

"Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousin, about your apparel. Lady Catherine is far from requiring that elegance of dress in us which becomes herself and her daughter. I would advise you merely to put on whatever of your clothes is superior to the rest—there is no occasion for anything more. Lady Catherine will not think the worse of you for being simply dressed. She likes to have the distinction of rank preserved."

Adele let out an unladylike humph but said nothing. She expected no less from Lady Catherine de Bourgh. The woman had not changed in the slightest. Even as a child, Adele had observed her ladyship surrounding herself with people who would flatter and obey without question. It had done more harm than good. Ever since Lord de Bourgh's passing, Lady Catherine had ruled Rosings alone, and her vanity had prevented her from making sound decisions in its management. The estate suffered under the misfortune of incompetent stewards and indulgent expenditures. This was precisely why, every April, her two nephews visited Rosings—to inspect the accounts and, more often than not, to repair the damage their aunt had inflicted.

While Adele and Elizabeth dressed, Mr. Collins made several interruptions, urging them to hurry. "Lady Catherine very much objects to being kept waiting for her dinner," he fussed, his exaggerated concern only serving to irritate Adele further. His ceaseless praises of Rosings, its grandeur, and his own good fortune in being admitted to such a circle were a source of endless amusement for Elizabeth, though Maria Lucas seemed genuinely anxious.

As the weather was fine, they walked the half-mile to Rosings Park. Though undeniably impressive, the estate did little to awe Adele. She had visited it in her youth, and the grand houses of Lady Marshall and Pemberley had set a high standard. Elizabeth, while appreciating the beauty of the grounds, remained unmoved by Mr. Collins's enumeration of the windows and the costly glazing.

When they reached the entrance hall, Maria's apprehension only grew. Even Sir William Lucas appeared rather overwhelmed by the grandeur before him, though Elizabeth, possessing no particular reverence for rank, remained composed. Adele, meanwhile, had spent too many years in Lady Catherine's company to be intimidated.

Mr. Collins led the introductions, bowing so deeply that Adele wondered if he might topple over. Charlotte had just begun to introduce her when Lady Catherine interrupted.

"Miss Bennet," the matron declared.

Adele smiled, her mischief barely concealed. "Lady de Bourgh, how good to see you after so long. You have aged beautifully, I see."

It was an old game—one she, Darcy, and Richard had often played as children, offering their aunt such excessive flattery that she mistook it for sincere admiration. Across the room, Anne de Bourgh coughed to disguise a laugh, her frail shoulders trembling slightly.

Lady Catherine preened at the compliment. "Well, you too have grown quite pretty," she conceded, "especially when one recalls how plain you were as a child."

Adele held her tongue, resisting the urge to return the insult. If she replied, she would be subjected to an insufferable lecture from Mr. Collins on the wisdom and condescension of her ladyship, and she had no wish to endure two misfortunes in one evening.

Anne remained silent, as she always did in company, though Adele knew she was not incapable of conversation. Lady Catherine had long discouraged her daughter from speaking in inferior company, and Anne, never one to rebel, had learned to keep her thoughts to herself.