a little more practice, Fanfiction, Pride and prejudice, tekstowo

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A Little More Practice ~ Section IBy Sandy W________________________________________Beginning, Next Section________________________________________Part OnePosted on Tuesday, 14 February 2006“I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will never play really well, unless she practises more; and though Mrs. Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the piano forte in Mrs. Jenkinson’s room. She would be in nobody’s way, you know, in that part of the house.”Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 31________________________________________“Are you certain it is no trouble?”“Quite so, Miss Bennet. Lady Catherine has instructed me to make the instrument available to you for one hour each day, should you desire it.”“I would not wish to inconvenience you or to intrude upon your privacy.”“That will not be the case. I am to accompany Miss de Bourgh in her phaeton this moment. We shall be from the house for the next two hours at least. There will be no inconvenience at all.”“Then I thank you.”Mrs. Jenkinson nodded her acknowledgment, and Elizabeth entered the room as the elder lady’s footsteps faded into silence.________________________________________‘She likes to have the distinction of rank preserved.’Mr. Collins’s words of the previous day echoed in Elizabeth’s head as she examined her surroundings. Indeed, there was no useless finery, no ostentatious display in this part of the house. Everywhere she turned, her eyes rested upon a dull grey. The simple, utilitarian furnishings promised significantly less comfort than their more luxurious counterparts in the main drawing room.She stood still for a time, having the leisure to wonder at her being where she was. A shrill voice drifted up the stairwell and into the corridor and soon halted her contemplation. Her ladyship, no doubt, was instructing Mrs. Jenkinson on the proper way to position Miss de Bourgh’s garment about her, or some equally inconsequential matter; the words themselves were indistinct but the tone was as commanding as ever.“Be sure to place it sufficiently high about the neck and shoulders.” Elizabeth whispered her mockery to the empty chamber. “Fasten it securely, but not so restricting as to impede the proper movement of the head. Miss de Bourgh must retain her ability at all times to offer a superior, condescending nod to the occasional villager as she passes by him.” She snorted, grateful to be only in Mrs. Jenkinson’s room and not in her position as well, where she might be subjected to such superciliousness every day. Between the Mistress of Rosings Park and the Master of Hunsford Parsonage, Elizabeth had had her fill of pronouncements. Respect and civility she tendered willingly, but reverence for Lady Catherine or her opinions was beyond Elizabeth’s desire and ability to feign.She fingered the rough fabric draping the windows. If not for the extensive, expertly manicured grounds revealed by drawing the curtains aside, she might have fancied herself elsewhere: Guilford House, before Mrs. Long’s most recent improvements; a rarely used apartment in her Aunt Philips’s home; perhaps even the Parsonage, although, to be fair, Charlotte’s modest guest quarters effected a more welcoming impression, fitted up as they were with comfortable trappings in cheerful hues.Her thoughts turned from Charlotte to that other permanent resident of Hunsford Parsonage. Thankfully, Mr. Bennet was in tolerable health, for the grasping Mr. Collins no doubt would hasten to claim Longbourn the very moment he heard otherwise. If that terrible moment were to come too soon—she hoped it would not take place for many, many years yet—Elizabeth might find herself in a similar situation to that of Miss de Bourgh’s companion: relegated to four drab walls in another woman’s house; compelled, at her employer’s whim, to share her pianoforte with visiting ladies of no great talent.Not one hour ago, she had sat in the dining parlour of the Parsonage, ill tempered and desperate to escape her cousin’s irksome society. Luckily, she had recollected Lady Catherine’s offer and informed Mr. Collins of her intent to depart for Rosings directly. Just as she had expected, he hurried her on her way. He could not approve of any scheme of Lady Catherine’s rapidly enough.She would benefit from the practice. It was true that she did not perform as well as she wished and slightly mortifying that Lady Catherine had not hesitated to point out her deficiencies in company. The primary inducement to seek out Mrs. Jenkinson, however, had been that an hour-long, solitary music lesson seemed a heavenly alternative to bearing with Mr. Collins for any length of time.The previous evening, the man had not waited for the carriage to pull away from Rosings before lecturing her on the impropriety of monopolising the attention of Lady Catherine’s nephews. Mr. Collins renewed the subject this morning, insinuating that Elizabeth entertained presumptuous aspirations of marrying far above her station. How laughable! She had made the acquaintance of the Colonel only the previous week. He had to mean the Colonel. As for Mr. Darcy, the notion was ridiculous in the extreme.From his copious words and bitter tone, it was all too clear that Mr. Collins still resented her refusal in November. She understood that he thought her foolish for spurning his marriage proposal. He was entitled to his opinion on the matter, but to hint repeatedly at such a thing now that he had chosen another, and in Charlotte’s presence, too! How imprudent, embarrassing and entirely unreasonable! “Charlotte is the foolish one for connecting herself with such a man.” Her good friend may have cast her lot with Mr. Collins, but she would not subject herself unnecessarily to his company.And this was the gentleman who was to inherit Longbourn. The idea of Charlotte’s husband walking into her childhood abode as its owner, of anyone displacing her family, struck her as both unnatural and overwhelming. If Lady Catherine maintained successful control of Rosings, why might not Mrs. Bennet manage Longbourn if she were to survive her husband? Why must the result of some ancient quarrel, whose initiator was laid to rest long ago, determine the manner in which she and her sisters were to live? Elizabeth suddenly found herself in surprising sympathy with her mother. Before this, Mrs. Bennet’s confusion over the nature of entails had inspired frustration and, occasionally, amusement. Being at a great distance from home, however, with the opportunity to see more of the world, gave Elizabeth a fresh perspective on her own fate. Of course, it would have helped matters if…in truth, all might be very different, indeed, were Mr. Collins a man she could admire and respect…but, alas, that was not to be.At length, she crossed the worn carpet and sat down at the instrument. Ignoring the pile of music at her side, she began to play from memory one of several pieces she had taught herself in recent years. Halfway through the selection, she paused in wonder, with her fingers suspended over the keys. Not one note had sounded amiss. The rich, bright tone surpassed that of the pianoforte she and Mary shared at home. “I do believe I would find my sister’s most pedantic efforts much more tolerable on this jewel of an instrument…”She continued her playing, though with a different song now, bobbing her head in time with the reel. At first she grimaced at every note her impatient fingers misplayed, but by the end she was unable to keep a smile from her face. This was just the sort of music Kitty and Lydia favoured—youthful, lively, spirited—especially when the company of a redcoat was to be had. It was not made for regrets and melancholy.Melody after melody filled the room as Elizabeth recovered her natural good humour. Sometimes she sang, sometimes not. For her final piece she chose an old favourite: a lullaby, not quite the fashionable choice to perform at country assemblies, but she had no audience now, and she was fond of it, for it displayed her voice to advantage.She repeated the refrain at the end, humming this time instead of articulating the words. She looked around the room and somehow did not falter at the sight of a familiar form in the doorway. He had his eyes closed and, by the look of it, was enjoying her performance, but she could not be certain from this distance. His head rested against the doorframe. He had never appeared so at ease in her presence before. Was she lulling him to sleep with her singing?She returned her gaze to the instrument and finished the song, then waited a few moments before glancing at the doorway again. It was empty, as if the man had been merely a vision. She had not heard him walking to or from the room. Perhaps he meant to observe her discreetly. Did he even realise she had seen him there?Alone once more, she stretched her arms high above her head. The time away from her cousin had proven restorative, and now she felt weary of sitting and anticipated the walk across the lane to the Parsonage.She met the gentleman on the stair.“Good day, Miss Bennet.”“Good day, Mr. Darcy.”“I was not aware that you were to visit Rosings this afternoon.”She thought he looked as though he wished to say more. When he did not continue, she told him, “I have been practicing in Mrs. Jenkinson’s room. I found I could not refuse your aunt’s kind invitation.” She waited for him to divulge the fact that he knew this, that he had watched her play only minutes ago, but he merely coloured a little, as he had the previous evening at Lady Catherine’s words. “I hope I did not disturb you.” She wondered whether he had found her flawed performance distracting.... [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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