by APRIL FLOYD
Elizabeth interrupted Mr. Collins before he might keep them all outside with one of his long-winded speeches. “Is that pork I smell, Cousin? Let us go in and break our fast.”
Presently, they were all seated at the long table in Charlotte’s dining room. Colonel Fitzwilliam was seated next to Elizabeth and turned to her as the breakfast was laid out on the long sideboard at the head of the table.
“Have you been to Kent before, Miss Elizabeth? There are many lovely gardens we might visit in the area. Wonderful exercise for such an excellent walker as yourself.”
Overhearing the offer, Mr. Darcy rose from his seat opposite Elizabeth and the colonel. He stood stiffly, his plate in hand. “Richard, might I speak with you for a moment?”
Elizabeth noted the edge in his voice. This was the man she’d known in Hertfordshire, the formal, cold, and irritated demeanor still present beneath the handsome exterior. The colonel stood and followed his cousin to the sideboard. Darcy remained silent until Mrs. Collins had filled her plate and returned to the table.
The colonel placed a huge pile of sliced ham upon his plate and shrugged as his cousin gave him a stern look. Darcy’s harshly whispered warning did little to affect his cousin’s enjoyment of their situation.
“You cannot entertain the idea of consorting with Miss Elizabeth. She has not the dowry nor connections your mother demands. You are most fortunate her mother did not come to Kent. She would have you matched in a trice just as she tried with Bingley and her eldest daughter.”
“Judging by your sullen looks in the lane as we escorted her home, that silly exchange with Mr. Collins, and now this jealousy, I do believe you are in love with Miss Elizabeth. Is she the one of the fine eyes, Darcy? You spoke incessantly of some fair lady all the way to Kent.”
Mr. Darcy glanced about to see who else might have overheard his cousin’s accusation. “I am quite serious, Richard. You must not raise the expectations of Miss Elizabeth nor her cousin. The man would be most happy to spread gossip near and far of an alliance between our family and his own.”
The colonel turned with his plate in hand. “He would never think such a thing possible Darcy for he is far too dull. I, however, am the sharpest gentleman in the room and it is apparent Miss Elizabeth is the lady with the fine eyes. Aunt Catherine had better never suspect it for she will not tolerate such a match.”
Chapter 3
Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam became frequent visitors at Hunsford in the days that followed and Charlotte mentioned to Elizabeth, when they were alone, that Mr. Darcy would not have come so often except for Elizabeth’s presence.
“Charlotte, do be sensible. You know as well as I he is promised to Miss de Bourgh. They are a perfect match.”
Her friend gave a most unbecoming snort at this and rolled her eyes. “Eliza, if you were honest, you would admit that Miss Anne does not fawn over him nor seek his particular attention. He pays very little in return, nothing more than you might expect between cousins. It is only Lady Catherine’s mislaid hope. They shall never be wed. I have told you so before.”
“How might you be so certain of such things, Charlotte? Even if they never wed it does not follow that Mr. Darcy loves me. You do recall his insult at the Assembly.”
Placing aside her embroidery, Charlotte sighed. “Mr. Darcy does not visit our cottage every other day for spiritual guidance, Eliza. I have seen the way he watches you in conversation with the colonel. He seems almost ready to throttle the man and sweep you off your feet. The tension in this parlor is unbearable when the three of you are present.”
To this, Elizabeth had no answer as she had noted the same. It must be obvious to all and the idea worried her. “Do you think Mr. Collins sees it too? Or the de Bourghs when we dine there? I would not like to be the cause of discord.”
Charlotte took her friend’s hand. “Perhaps Miss Anne knows for she is only frail of body and not of mind. Lady Catherine could never think either of her nephews would make a match with you. I do not think she would believe it even if Mr. Darcy proposed. As for my husband, he has his eye ever on his patroness. There is no need for worry where he is concerned.”
Elizabeth remained in the parlor as Charlotte went upstairs to rest before they were to have tea at Rosings Park that evening. Unable to remain trapped indoors with her thoughts, brought on by Charlotte’s talk of Mr. Darcy’s feelings, Elizabeth left the cottage. She longed to walk alone and sort her thoughts.
Mr. Darcy had walked with her upon three occasions in past days and she hoped not to see him this day. He had very little to say during those rambles across the park and she could not think of entertaining his brooding company.
Making her way farther across the park away from the grove, Elizabeth breathed deeply of the fresh spring air. The stillness of the woods to her right assured her the rough path she had found the day before would remain abandoned.
As she walked along, Elizabeth examined each meeting with Mr. Darcy. The colonel was ever present when she walked except for the few times Mr. Darcy had come alone. Nothing had transpired then to give her even a hint he might feel more for her than any other acquaintance. Charlotte must be mistaken or merely hoping for such a match since it would bring her friend to Kent every Easter.
Elizabeth allowed the sun to distract her and left the path to run through some wildflowers which appeared as the woods opened onto a small glen. Delighted by her find and no longer mindful of any company that might appear, Elizabeth plucked a handful to take back to her room at the cottage and settled upon a small boulder.
Not a quarter of an hour later, when she had been tempted to rise from her seat, Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared on the path. He waved and called out to her and Elizabeth felt her breath leave her in a sigh of relief. Though she had not wanted company today, at least it was not Mr. Darcy.
She picked a few more flowers on her way back to the path and smiled as the colonel held out his arm for her hand. He was ever the gentleman and not just in his excellent manners. He did not unsettle her mind as Mr. Darcy did with his brooding spells. He was ever smiling and jovial, a most agreeable gentleman like Mr. Bingley, but far more steady in nature than that gentleman.
“Colonel, how lovely to see you today. How did you find me out here away from my usual paths?”
“Miss Elizabeth, it must have been fate that brought us together this afternoon. I left my horse to the grasses near the grove and wandered here unable to deny the lure of such a wild place. I am not a man who cares much for the symmetry of most gardens and paths.”
Elizabeth considered his words. “‘Tis odd for a military man. Precision and order guide your days, do they not?”
“Indeed, fair lady, you make a fine point. Perhaps that is why I abhor it in nature. It is a device of man that rules my days. To escape it from time to time feeds my soul.”
She felt a strong kinship to the man then, a knowing of the balm nature provided shared between them.
“If I may say, you seem so unlike your cousin, as does Mr. Bingley, his friend who let Netherfield Park. Mr. Darcy would never speak of the such things as we have since meeting. Even when he walks with me, he remains silent except for an odd question at the strangest moments.”
The colonel chuckled before regaining his composure. “Darcy is reserved with those he does not know well; I cannot deny it. But with family and friends, he is easier to know. He cares very much for our happiness. He told me of a friend he recently advised on a terrible match. Saved the man from a marriage doomed from the start, he said. I had thought it might be Bingley he spoke of but mind you that is only conjecture on my part. It seemed a recent event and I knew they spent the whole of last Autumn together.”
Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath. She had suspected Mr. Darcy of steering Mr. Bingley away from Jane. But in her mind, the chief architect had been Miss Bingley. The doubts planted drove Mr. Bingley to return to London without offering for Jane’s hand. The truth threatened to overtake her and she turned abruptl
y back the way they had come. With difficulty, Elizabeth kept her voice steady as she sought to know more.
“We cannot know who Mr. Darcy spoke of but I wonder why the young lady was considered unsuitable.”
Elizabeth marveled at her control over her emotions. Her sister Jane was more than a suitable match for Mr. Bingley. The objection must lie with her family. Either her uncles; the lawyer in Meryton and the one in trade in London, or perhaps it was her mother and father. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet’s behavior surely astounded Mr. Darcy.
Her head began to ache with wondering how Jane had offended the man yet she sought to know as much as she might from the colonel. “Did Mr. Darcy speak on his reasons for this interference?”
“There were some very strong objections against the lady.” The colonel watched his companion’s reaction as they left the path and entered the grove near his horse.
Elizabeth finally asked the question that had nagged at her since their conversation began. “And how did he separate them?”
“He did not go into such detail,” said the colonel, “he only told me what I have now told you.”
Elizabeth made no answer though her heart swelled with indignation. Colonel Fitzwilliam asked her why she was so thoughtful.
“Your cousin’s conduct vexes me. What right has he judge?”
“You believe his opinion carried such weight with Bingley?”
“You said yourself he admitted to saving a friend from an ill-advised match. Whether it was Mr. Bingley or another friend, why would Mr. Darcy presume to know better than his friends what might constitute their happiness?”
Richard Fitzwilliam could see the sharing of his cousin’s deed had not impressed Miss Bennet.
Before he might speak further on the matter, she graced him with a lovely smile. “We do not know the particulars of the case and so it is not fair to condemn him. Shall we talk of nature instead as you see me safely to the parsonage?”
The colonel whistled for his horse and the beast followed along behind them as he obliged Elizabeth’s conversation for the remainder of their walk.
When at last they arrived at her cousin’s cottage, she parted amicably with the colonel but shut herself up in her room when he had gone. Retrieving Jane’s letters from London and reading them left her with tears that only increased the aching of her head.
Elizabeth was unwell when a little later Charlotte knocked upon her door. The conversation with the colonel had left her without comfort. She would not go with her friend to Rosings Park for tea.
Chapter 4
Nearly a half hour after Charlotte left the parsonage for Rosings, Elizabeth returned Jane’s letters to the drawer in the small writing desk and left her room. She considered sitting in the garden for a time, but chose to have tea in the parlor instead.
Elizabeth smiled when Cook arrived with a small tray for her. The motherly woman expressed her satisfaction at Elizabeth’s presence in the parlor. “I am pleased you have come down, Miss. Mrs. Collins was worried when you did not wish to go to Rosings.”
“I am sorry to have caused my friend a moment’s discomfort. I fear I would not have been good company as I received distressing news this morning.” Elizabeth poured her tea and hoped Cook would not inquire further.
She need not have worried for the woman bustled from the room as the doorbell sounded. Elizabeth stood, wondering who had come to call. Charlotte had not warned her of any expected guests.
When she heard the voice of Mr. Darcy mingling with that of Cook, her heart sank and she glanced hastily about for any means of escape. There was none to be had.
Steeling herself at last for his imminent arrival into the sanctuary of Charlotte’s parlor, Elizabeth clasped her hands tightly before her. Why on earth had the man come to call mere hours after she had learned of his betrayal of her sister?
Cook brought him to the parlor and left quickly with the excuse of fetching a second teacup. There was an awkward silence between them that was only broken with Cook’s return.
“Mr. Darcy, how lovely to see you again,” Elizabeth lied as the servant place the cup upon the tray.
“Miss Elizabeth, I was not aware Mrs. Collins was not at home. It is just as well as I have come to speak with you.”
He did not sit when she did but Elizabeth poured his tea and inquired about his desire for sugar and cream. Mr. Darcy behaved as though she had not spoken. Taking her own cup and sipping slowly, Elizabeth watched him pace about the room.
Whatever he had come to say seemed to vex him and she hoped the Colonel had not spoken to him of their walk that morning. Though she wished to hurl her cup at him, it would not do.
Of a sudden, he ceased his irritating habit and crossed the room. He sat very close beside her on the sofa. Elizabeth knew not what had overcome the man. Placing her cup upon the low table before them, she once again clasped her hands tightly.
“Mr. Darcy, I do not wish to appear rude but I am unwell this afternoon. What is it you wished to discuss?”
“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
Elizabeth stood suddenly and moved away from him. Had the man gone mad? Keeping her composure, though later she would not know how she had accomplished such a feat, she managed to speak.
“If I could feel gratitude at this offer, Mr. Darcy, I assure you I would make it known. I have never desired your good opinion and you have bestowed it most unwillingly.”
Mr. Darcy rose from the sofa, his countenance gone white and his lips forming a thin line of anger. Elizabeth thought better of her words but it was far too late for that now.
In a moment, he appeared under good regulation and Elizabeth gave a deep sigh of relief. It proved to be a small consolation as his next words would call up the anger the colonel had lit earlier with his tale.
“And this is all the reply I may expect? I wish to know why, with such little effort at civility, I am thus rejected? But it is of small importance.”
Elizabeth loosed her resentment upon the man, withholding nothing. “You insult me again, Mr. Darcy? It is with little effort at civility that you proclaim to like me, love me even. Had not my own feelings decided against you, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who has been the means of ruining forever the happiness of a most beloved sister?”
“I am not ashamed of the feelings I related, they are natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? To congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?”
Elizabeth very nearly did bend to retrieve her teacup then and hurl its contents at his head. Instead she pointed her finger at him and raised her voice.
“You care little for the feelings of others but yet your own should be given consideration? You interfered against my sister with Mr. Bingley and Mr. Wickham, you reduced him to his present state of poverty and withheld advantages designed for him. Do you deny any of it?”
If he was foolish enough to attempt a denial, Elizabeth knew she would indulge herself in the breaking of the dishes.
“I admit I did everything in my power to separate your sister and my friend. To him I have been kinder than to myself. As for Wickham, you know only that which he wishes for you to know. Had I employed flattery, as he does, I might have had you for my bride quite easily.”
“You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy. Had you behaved as a gentleman from our first meeting until this, which I hope shall be our last, I could have believed you cared for me. But that is not the case and so you could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it.''
With this, Elizabeth left the room with all the grace she could muster given the anger boiling within. How dare he come here, accost her with such a vile proposal, and pretend he was the wronged party!
She did not hear the slamming of the front door nor d
id she answer the knocks upon her door afterwards. Upon entering her room, she had fallen upon the bed and sobbed for Jane and for herself. How was it that Mr. Bingley was lost to her sister and Mr. Darcy was to blame? How had the man decided to come to her now and declare his affections?
Elizabeth did not know how she might continue at Hunsford after the disaster in her cousin’s parlor.
Chapter 5
The next morning, Elizabeth could not avoid Charlotte. They sat mending clothing in the parlor together and her friend had taken note of her somber mood and attempted to know why she was so afflicted.
“Eliza, you did not come down for dinner last evening and I know you did not break your fast earlier than the rest of us this morning. Cook said she had not seen you when I came down. What has happened?”
Though Elizabeth wished to confide all to her dear friend, she would not speak of Mr. Darcy’s proposal. It did not seem the proper thing to do until she or Mr. Darcy left Kent.
“I am most worried for Jane, Charlotte,” she had said in reply for it was part of the truth, “I must return to London soon, I think.”
Having said all she might, Elizabeth arose and begged leave to quit the parlor. “I believe a bit of fresh air might be a tonic for my worries, Charlotte.”
Her friend merely nodded and Elizabeth knew she ought to speak to Charlotte of Mr. Darcy’s visit before Cook revealed the news. Instead, she hurried from the room and left the cottage. Before she knew it, her feet had taken her to the grove.
With no desire to wander the park around Rosings lest she meet with Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth stayed in the lane and walked to and fro wishing she might enter the grove. She desired the green solitude of the place. Soon she stood at one of the gates before the grove and placed a hand upon the wooden railing.
The figure of a gentleman appeared and thinking it might be Mr. Darcy, she turned away and hurried back down the lane. Moments later, he called her name and though she did not wish to meet him here, she turned without hesitation.
