While in their discussions she had often found agreement with Mr Burnett, there had been times when she had contested him and, to her delight, found him quite untroubled by it. Indeed, he had encouraged her to develop and expound her point of view, so long as she produced the evidence to support it. When, for instance, she had declared a preference for the novels of Mr Dickens above those of Miss Austen, because she enjoyed the great variety of characters in them, Mr Burnett had smiled and said, "Indeed, that is as good a reason as any, but I trust in time you will learn to love Miss Austen, too, for hers is a rare and subtle talent."
This liberality had been refreshing indeed, after the general subservience of her opinions to those of Her Ladyship to which she had long become accustomed.
Undoubtedly, it had seemed to her that he enjoyed their association as much as she did and yet, despite the many occasions on which they had been together, often without another person in the room with them, he had not made any approach that she could have interpreted as romantic.
Catherine had been too young and far too inexperienced in such matters to even consider the reason for this behaviour, believing that Mr Burnett, who was some years her senior, regarded her merely as a young person whose company he enjoyed and nothing more. She was certainly neither vain nor devious enough to imagine that he could have fallen in love with her and was concealing his feelings in order to avoid displeasing his employer.
However, Lady Catherine had by her probing unsettled young Catherine's mind and excited ideas and feelings of which she had not been completely cognisant before. Lying in bed that night, Catherine had run through all of her recent meetings and dealings with Mr Burnett and there had begun to form in her mind a small kernel of awareness that lent itself to interpretation.
Perhaps,
she had written in her notebook on the morrow,
perhaps, I do love
him a little and maybe if I continue along this path, I may well love him some more and
then, if he were to discover that he felt some affection for me, it may even be possible to
conclude that we were in love with one another.
But, very soon afterwards, common sense had prevailed.
It is quite possible, though not very probable, since Mr Burnett is a man of
the world and I am sure does not regard me any more seriously than he would
a schoolgirl. But, I must confess, since my conversation with Lady Catherine,
I have, upon contemplating my own feelings, come to the conclusion that I
greatly admire and esteem Mr Burnett, which Mama used to say is a very good
foundation for a marriage.
Reading this again, after all those years, Catherine had blushed at her naiveté. She could not help wondering whether Mr Burnett had become aware of her feelings at the time or of Lady Catherine's involvement in their suppression. She wondered if Her Ladyship had similarly counselled her librarian. She thought not.
Despite Lady Catherine's expressed wish that their friendship should end, it had not been easy to do her bidding, for Mr Burnett had made no change whatsoever in his dealings with her. There had been no alteration in his manner, nor any diminution in his enthusiastic encouragement of her desire to read and learn.
On one or two occasions, Catherine had tried to make an excuse for not completing a book she had borrowed or failing to collect one he had found for her in the library, only to be scolded gently for her recalcitrance.
"Miss Collins," he had said reprovingly, in what she used to call his "schoolmaster's voice," "Miss Collins, I am surprised indeed. This is not like you. I had expected you would have quite finished that volume by now."
And when she had tried to explain that she had not been able to find the time to take up Mr Dickens's latest novel because of having to read a ladies' journal to Lady Catherine, he had been most censorious.
"Really, Miss Collins, so much exciting work awaits you on the road ahead, you will never come to it at all if you loiter in the alleys and lane ways of such paltry works. You must learn to read good literature with discernment and understanding."
Mrs Jenkinson, coming out of the schoolroom, had seen them talking earnestly together and Catherine had no doubt that Her Ladyship would hear of it before sundown. Her next encounter with Lady Catherine had been more solemn. It had begun with Her Ladyship appearing to rebuke her more in sorrow than in anger and concluded with a thinly veiled threat.
I knew Lady C was angry with me the moment I entered her private sitting room,
Catherine had written subsequently, in a somewhat shaky hand.
Coming directly to the point, she said, "I am sorry, Catherine, that you have
chosen not to heed my advice. If you will insist upon disobeying me, I shall
have to send Mr Burnett away. It will not be possible for me to have in my
employ a man who may put at risk your future at Rosings Park." She looked
very annoyed and clearly meant it and added, "He will have to go, unless you
promise me that you will not become involved in some silly flirtation with him,
which is bound to end in tears."
So horrified was I at the prospect of Mr Burnett losing his employment
because of me, I gave my word instantly. I assured Her Ladyship that as far
as I was concerned, there had never been any thought of "flirtation" with the
gentleman and was astonished when she interrupted me to say, "There, you
see, you do not know of what you speak, Catherine. Mr Burnett is not a
gentleman."
And seeing the expression of disbelief upon my face, she added, "I do not
deny he is an efficient and hardworking man, a good librarian whom I pay well
for the work he does for Rosings. He is also a respectable and educated man,
but his father is a tradesman and his family have no estate. Now, were he a
barrister or a clergyman, even a junior one, it would be quite different, because
there would be prospects of preferment and status in the community. But in
his present position, with no inheritance and no estate, his income dependent
upon employment alone, he can have no claims to being a gentleman. Which,
my dear Catherine, is why he cannot be considered a suitable match for you."
As she read the words, Catherine's face burned with embarrassment.
How could she have accepted such a judgment, distorted as it was by the prejudice and conceit of Lady Catherine de Bourgh? Deeply distressed, even after so many years, it was plain to her that it had been both unfair and untrue. Frank Burnett, regardless of his antecedents and the humble occupations of his forebears, had become by education and his own efforts a man of skill and integrity, with the ability to practice an erudite and respected occupation, whose worth was never in question, even by Lady Catherine.
Quite clearly, he had not been impeded in his career by the disabilities attributed to him by Her Ladyship. Indeed, it could almost be said that the wheel had come full circle and the salvation of Her Ladyship's legacy at Rosings now lay in his capable hands.
Smiling as she pondered the quirk of Fate that had brought this about, Catherine turned once more to the present question of Mr Adams's letter.
Recalling her sister Rebecca's reservations, which seemed in a strange way to reflect the views of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, she read again Mr Adams's ardent declaration of love for Lilian and his simply stated wish to have her mother's consent to his proposal. Catherine could see nothing in his letter which gave her any cause for concern. It would be ironic indeed, she thought, if her own daughter were to be denied the chance to marry the man of her choice, for reasons similar to those that had been used by Lady Catherine to separate her from Frank Burnett many years ago.
The arrival of the post brought another, more urgent letter from London that claimed her immediate attention. It was brief, and in it, Lilian pleaded to be allowed to return home to Kent.
Dearest Mama,
she wrote,
Forgive me for troubling you in this way, but I can
remain in London no longer.
Despite Aunt Becky's best efforts, I have no wish to spend the rest of the
season here and am determined to return home. I cannot say more, but when
we meet, I promise to tell you all about it. For now, all I wish is to return
home.
It is unlikely that my aunt will agree to this, but if no one will come to
fetch me home, I intend to leave and find my own way back to Kent. I have
most of the money I brought with me to London and am sure it will suffice to
purchase a seat on the train.
Shocked by the intensity of Lilian's single-minded determination, Catherine realised she would have to confide in Mr Burnett. There was no one else to whom she could turn. She was surprised by the ease with which she had decided to trust him.
When he arrived as arranged, later in the day, she showed him both letters. Having waited until he had read them, she said, "I intend to go to London myself to fetch Lilian home. I fear I shall have to take the train and my maid will come, too. I wonder, Mr Burnett, if you would be so kind as to accompany us on the journey?"
He said, without any hesitation, "Of course," and inquired when she intended to leave.
Having detailed the plan she proposed, Catherine asked Mr Burnett, "Do you think I am doing the right thing?"
His answer was unequivocal. "I most certainly do. Who could ignore such an appeal? Clearly, Miss Lilian is unhappy in London, and while I am sure your sister Mrs Tate may not be entirely aware of the reason for her distress, it is nevertheless unfair to expect Miss Lilian to remain in a place that she finds so uncongenial, when she clearly wishes to return home."
"I am relieved that you are in agreement with me on this; I do not wish to upset my sister, and I should have found it difficult to proceed without some support. But what of Mr Adams's letter? Have you no advice for me there?"
Mr Burnett was silent for a few moments, then said quietly, "That is a more difficult question for me to answer. As Miss Lilian's mother and in the absence of her father, it is right that Mr Adams should seek your permission to approach her with an offer of marriage. The answer you give must be yours alone."
Catherine shook her head, her uncertainty obvious.
"But do you not agree that it is Lilian's happiness that matters?"
"Indeed it is; I am certain that in responding to Mr Adams, you will do nothing that will be inimical to your daughter's happiness," he said.
Catherine nodded and thanked him for his confidence in her. Then she said, "Perhaps I could make it simpler for you; if I were to say that I have already written a letter, which I have not as yet sent to the post, informing Mr Adams that if Lilian's feelings were also engaged and she were to accept him, I would have no objection, what would you say?"
Mr Burnett appeared a little surprised, but answered without ambivalence.
"If you were indeed to say so, I would applaud your judgment, Mrs Harrison. From my knowledge of Mr Adams, which I grant is the result of only a brief association, I regard him as a fine young man with a promising future. In addition to his excellent character and disposition, his recent inheritance should make him a most eligible suitor. But—and in this I beg you not to misunderstand my reservations—it is in the end a deeply personal family matter, which only you and Miss Lilian should decide."
Catherine smiled; she was certainly not dissatisfied with his answer. Indeed, it was exactly what she had hoped to hear.
"I do understand and appreciate your meaning, Mr Burnett, but it is not the kind of decision I am accustomed to making, which is why I value your opinion and I thank you."
"Mrs Harrison, I have every confidence in your capacity to reach the right decision. I know how very much you love your daughter, and that alone would suffice to ensure that you will do only that which will ensure her happiness," he said and she could not doubt his sincerity.
"I thank you very much for that confidence, Mr Burnett," she replied. "For my part, I am not always so certain of my own judgment."
Even as she spoke, Catherine could not help speculating whether Mr Burnett could have had any intimation of her feelings for him in the past. He had shown commendable sensibility in his response to her and had seemed truly keen not to impinge upon what were matters for her family alone. Yet she had sensed a desire to reassure and give comfort, which she found quite touching. Could there have been some residual feeling, she wondered. But it had been a long time ago and she would not pry, lest she should embarrass him.
Their present situation, friendly and open as it was, uncomplicated by emotion, seemed to suit them both well, and Catherine was reluctant to do or say anything that might disrupt such an agreeable association.
Chapter Ten
The arrival in London, at the house of Mrs Tate, of Mrs Harrison and her maid, accompanied by Mr Frank Burnett, caused both consternation and delight.
Delight was a word inadequate to describe Lilian's feelings when she saw her mother alight from a hired vehicle at the entrance to her aunt's house. She had been awaiting either a letter or a message, depending upon its contents to determine what she would do next. That her mother would arrive without fuss or fanfare to take her home was so completely unexpected, Mrs Harrison was taken aback by her daughter's excessive expressions of joy.