by Jann Rowland
The family settled and they all sat down to discuss the matter before them. Even the earl, who had been the most reticent of them all congratulated Elizabeth with a warmth which made her feel as if she could expect excellent relations with her future husband’s closest family. When the explanations and congratulations had all been offered and accepted, they sat down to a more serious conversation about the practicalities. There were several questions posed of them, for Lady Susan wished to clarify a few of Elizabeth’s thoughts.
“I have heard you say you intend to return to your childhood home for a time, Elizabeth. Might I assume you do not mean to inform your sister’s husband of your understanding?”
“That would not be prudent,” confirmed Elizabeth. “If it were anyone other than Mr. Darcy, Mr. Collins would eagerly wish me on my way so he may be rid of me. When he knows the truth, he shall, I have no doubt, plague us with vociferous objections and put forward Lady Catherine’s interests in Mr. Darcy as her daughter’s future husband.”
“That is the truth,” muttered Lord Matlock. “Catherine has clutched to that delusion for many years, despite anything anyone says to her.”
“It is my understanding that William expects her interference,” said Elizabeth, turning a questioning look on her betrothed.
“Expecting anything else would be foolish,” said he. “But Lady Catherine possesses far less ability to sway me than she believes. I shall not yield to her demands.”
“If you have more trouble with her than you expect,” said Lord Matlock, “you may send her to me. She may not listen to me any more than she does to anyone else, but she will know my opinion if nothing else.”
William nodded to his uncle, and it struck Elizabeth how fortunate she was that the earl had chosen to support them. Had he taken it into his head to oppose them, he would prove to be a far more serious opponent than Lady Catherine.
“What of your wedding, Elizabeth?” asked Lady Susan. When Elizabeth turned to her, a question on her lips, the countess clarified her question. “I suppose, having been raised in the neighborhood, that you would wish to marry at the parish church you attended as a girl. But as your sister is to move away, leaving only your eldest sister and her husband, who we expect will oppose the match, will that be advisable, or even possible?”
The wedding was not something that Elizabeth had considered, and she thought on the matter for a moment. “While being married at Longbourn church would be preferable, I must confess your ladyship’s observation is correct. If Longbourn is not possible, then the location does not concern me. Perhaps we may make use of the church near my brother’s new home.”
Lady Susan smiled and said: “If you please, now that we are to be related by marriage, I should be delighted if you would call me ‘Aunt Susan,’ rather than my other, more formal, appellations.”
Pleased, Elizabeth nodded her head, which earned her the countess’s approval. As she was already referring to Charity and Rachel by their first names there were no changes there, though Colonel Fitzwilliam informed her he would prefer a more familiar address as well. Though she was uncertain if it would be proper to call him by his Christian name, Elizabeth agreed.
“Then Pemberley might be a suitable option,” said Lady Susan, returning to the previous conversation. “Or your sister’s parish would be fine, as long as you establish your residence in the neighborhood before your wedding.” Lady Susan turned to William. “Or, do you intend to purchase a common license?”
William turned a questioning glance on Elizabeth, who attempted to inform her without speaking aloud that she had no preference. After a moment, William nodded and addressed his aunt.
“Moving to another parish injects another level of complexity into the matter, so I suppose it would be preferable. While I have no objection to reading the banns, I should like to be in a position to marry wherever is most convenient.”
“Then a common license is your best option,” said the earl. Then he laughed. “If you wish, I am well acquainted with the Duke of Devonshire, who is a personal friend of the Archbishop of Canterbury. You could request a special license if you were so inclined.”
William laughed, though Elizabeth, who was still becoming accustomed to the casual dropping of names of those in lofty positions, looked on with shock. “Though that might quell Lady Catherine’s objections, I do not think we require that level of ecclesiastical sanction. A common license shall do very well.”
“I believe you ascribe far too much credit to Lady Catherine,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam with a laugh. “She would object if you were marrying a princess, officiated by the archbishop, where the king and queen themselves were attending!”
The company all joined Colonel Fitzwilliam in laughter, even Elizabeth, who still had a healthy respect for Lady Catherine’s officiousness based on nothing more than her cousin’s testimony—and that of present company.
“I will own,” said William, changing the subject a little, “your proposed return to Mr. Collins’s house concerns me. Should he learn of our understanding, I cannot imagine he will be at all sanguine about it.”
“No, he will not,” said Elizabeth. “If we do not speak of the matter, nothing will happen. My mother wishes me to return, William, and I will not disappoint her, especially since I will not live in the neighborhood any longer. Mama will lose all of her daughters but Mary, and I know she will feel it keenly.”
While Elizabeth could see that William still did not like it, he knew there was no arguing her from her position and did not belabor the point. In this manner, they continued to speak of the day’s events, and to Elizabeth’s eyes, she thought Charity and Georgiana were more excited than she was herself. The closeness of this family and their inclusion of herself with such little effort spoke to the brightness of their future together. And Lady Susan was not finished informing her how she would welcome her to the family.’
“I am happy you are to be my niece, Elizabeth,” said Lady Susan that evening as the time to retire approached. “You will be a positive influence on my nephew—I am absolutely certain. We shall marshal the full might of the Fitzwilliam family behind you. You will fit in with us very well.”
Heart full at this further display of confidence, Elizabeth voiced her happiness. There was little more that could be added to this day. It had been most excellent.
Chapter XXIX
Happy as she had been at Snowlock, Elizabeth was loath to leave it, though the prospect of seeing Jane again was welcome, as was her desire to see her mother. The Fitzwilliam family seemed to also regret her going, for they spoke many words of appreciation for Elizabeth’s visit and all that had happened there.
“Of course, we shall see you again,” said Lady Susan, her manner exuding a hint of satisfaction which had not waned since Mr. Darcy’s proposal.
“If she does not come to her senses and reconsider her rash decision,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, elbowing William, a broad grin stretching his face.
“Be silent, Anthony!” cried Charity. “For you may provoke her, and I wish to have her as a relation!”
They all laughed, including Mr. Darcy whose mood was irrepressible those days. In the next moment, he proved it by turning the tables on his cousin.
“Perhaps you should rein in your jealousy, Fitzwilliam, for it does not become you. You are only cast down because I saw what a gem Miss Bennet is before you did.”
Undaunted by William’s tease, Colonel Fitzwilliam rejoined: “If I had met her before you, I have every confidence she would have been dazzled by my dashing looks and awed by my experiences in the army.”
“Yes, you spin a good yarn,” said William affably. “But I believe Elizabeth prefers someone of substance; she will not get that from you.”
“Boys!” scolded Lady Susan. “I sometimes wonder how anyone could see anything of merit in either of you!”
The gentlemen grinned, as did most of those present, and Lady Susan appeared to decide it was best to ignore them.
&n
bsp; “I hope you have a safe journey home, my dear,” said Lady Susan to Elizabeth. “You will always be welcome at Snowlock, even should your future husband annoy us with his rivalry with my son. Words cannot express how happy we are that you will join our family.”
“Thank you,” said Elizabeth, feeling emotional at how good these people were and how they had accepted her into their lives. “These weeks have been among the happiest of my life. I shall anticipate being in your company again very much.”
With these and other words of comfort and love, Elizabeth boarded the carriage the next morning in the company of Mr. Darcy, Georgiana, and Mrs. Annesley for the journey back to Hertfordshire and her waiting family. The party was merry, the weather fine, and the miles sped past amid a haze of love and friendship, such that Elizabeth did not note the passage of time.
Snowlock, situated to the south of Pemberley, and Longbourn, to the north of London, were close enough that the distance between them required but two days of travel. As William’s stated desire was to leave Elizabeth at Longbourn and press on to London the following day to speak to Mr. Gardiner, they traveled long with brief rests, the horses changed at several stations along the way. Thus it was that Mr. Darcy’s carriage drove onto Longbourn’s drive late the afternoon of the second day.
While it was no surprise that the hulking figure of Mr. Collins exiting the house to greet them would tax their endurance, Elizabeth welcomed the sight of a sister with whom she had never been close and a mother with whom she had often disagreed. When Mr. Darcy stepped down from the coach, he turned to hand Elizabeth down, then stepped aside as she shared an affectionate greeting with her family. Mrs. Bennet, true to her emotional character, was crying and exclaiming her happiness over Elizabeth’s return, but the true surprise was Mary, who appeared a little misty-eyed, and embraced Elizabeth, her countenance showing genuine pleasure.
“How wonderful it is to have you among us again, Elizabeth,” whispered Mary.
There was something different about her sister, something which Elizabeth could not quite determine. There did not appear to be any physical differences in Mary; the affectionate greeting was the only change Elizabeth had not expected. A voice, however, interrupted Elizabeth’s musings and pushed the matter from her mind.
“Mr. Darcy,” the voice of Mr. Collins reached her ears, “my family and I thank you for your generosity toward my poor cousin, for taking the trouble to see her to our doorstep. I know you are a busy man and must, I think, have better matters with which to occupy yourself than going out of your way to see my cousin to her home.”
“It was no trouble, Mr. Collins,” said William, though Elizabeth could see his disinclination for her sister’s husband. “As Bingley has extended an invitation for us to stay at Netherfield, we were bound for the neighborhood, regardless.”
“Mr. Bingley!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet. “How cruel it is for him to take my dear daughter away from me to the north. I have already lost my second and third daughters, and now I am to lose my fourth as well!”
Though Elizabeth knew Mr. Darcy found her mother difficult to bear, he smiled at her and said: “But think of the enjoyment you will receive from visiting your daughter in Derbyshire. And your third daughter . . . Miss Kitty? Perhaps you could visit her also.”
Whether Mrs. Bennet had not considered this Elizabeth did not know, but she quieted and appeared thoughtful. Elizabeth caught Mr. Darcy’s eye and smiled in thanks, to which the gentleman nodded. Mr. Collins, however, interrupted, for it appeared he was not finished speaking.
“We are eager to allow you to visit all your dear daughters, Mrs. Bennet.” Then he turned back to Mr. Darcy. “How intelligent of you to have suggested it, sir. As for my cousin, I hope she has not imposed upon you and your excellent family, though your generosity cannot be questioned. Had you left her in Meryton and sent word, I could have sent my poor conveyance to retrieve her, preventing you from putting yourself out on her behalf. I cannot but assume you have had enough of her impertinence for the moment.”
Though Mr. Collins could see nothing of the flashing anger in Mr. Darcy’s eyes, Elizabeth did and was concerned by it, for she was not eager for Mr. Collins to know of her changed situation. Mr. Darcy, however, was nothing if not in control of his emotions, for he mastered his anger, though when he addressed Mr. Collins, his voice was distant.
“As I said before, Mr. Collins, it was nothing, and no gentleman worth the title would have done something so crass as to leave a woman a mile from her home and not see to her safe delivery.”
“And that is why you possess such nobility of character as can scarcely be replicated,” said Mr. Collins with a beatific smile, not understanding Mr. Darcy’s words were a barb against his behavior. “As for my cousin,” Mr. Collins turned a severe eye on Elizabeth, “I assure I shall educate her with extreme prejudice on the proper way to behave with those of your station, for I fear she has imposed upon you.”
“Nothing of the sort, Mr. Collins,” William was quick to say. “If my aunt had not wished for Miss Bennet’s presence—if Georgiana or I had not wished it—we would not have invited her. Miss Bennet was welcome in our homes and will be so whenever she wishes to return.”
It was clear Mr. Collins could not quite understand this praise for Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth knew, was second-guessing her decision to stay at Longbourn, repulsed as he seemed to be by Mr. Collins’s performance. While he may have had something more to say, Elizabeth exchanged a glance with him in which she attempted to inform him that she would be well, and he nodded, albeit with reluctance.
The Darcys departed soon after, amid Elizabeth’s affectionate farewells with Georgiana and Mr. Collins’s further effusive thanks to the gentleman. Mr. Darcy bore them well, ignoring what he could and responding with monosyllabic acknowledgments when he had no other choice. It was unfortunate that Elizabeth could not share the farewell with her betrothed that she wished, but the knowledge that soon they would not be required to part at all gave her the necessary will to bear it.
Soon Mrs. Bennet inundated Elizabeth with questions, for she knew her mother wished to know of her adventures in Derbyshire, and more particularly, if she had met any eligible gentlemen who showed any promise. This was not unexpected, for Mrs. Bennet had made it her life’s work to see all her daughters married, and as Elizabeth was the last remaining who was unattached—as far as her mother was aware!—such subjects would be much more important than any other. However, whether Mr. Collins had spoken at great length of Mr. Darcy’s position high above her or other such nonsense, Elizabeth could not say, but Mrs. Bennet was more circumspect than Elizabeth might have expected, not that it made any difference to the gentleman.
“How did you enjoy your stay in Derbyshire, Lizzy?” asked she that evening when they were all sitting together.
“I am certain she could not have failed to enjoy it,” interrupted Mr. Collins, “for the estates are so fine, the company so excellent that it must be a treasure to be immersed in their homes.”
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes narrowed, and she looked on Mr. Collins with some asperity; this was not the first time he interrupted with some such nonsense. “Oh, so you have seen Pemberley and Snowlock yourself, have you? Perhaps you should describe them for us, Mr. Collins.”
The question threw the gentleman into confusion, for Elizabeth was aware he had never traveled within one hundred miles of either estate. “You are mistaken, Madam,” said he at length, with more than his usual measure of pomposity. “Lady Catherine has given me such excellent accounts of both locations that I almost feel like I have been there.”
“And yet you have not. If you do not mind, Mr. Collins, I should like to hear of Lizzy’s impression of them, for she stayed at each for a month complete.”
Then, feeling she had won a significant point, Mrs. Bennet turned her expectant gaze back to Elizabeth, who was not at all disinclined to oblige. Thus, Elizabeth informed them of what she did and what she saw, the lovely vistas and the
friendly and obliging welcome of her hosts in both locations. In addition, she spoke of Hazelwood, the journey there and the principal rooms, the improvements Mr. Bingley would need to make, and how she felt it would suit the Bingleys more than any estate she had ever seen.
For some time, Elizabeth spoke, and not even Mr. Collins interrupted her as much as was his wont, though when she spoke of Pemberley and Snowlock in particular, the gentleman regarded her with suspicion, as if wondering if she was hiding something. The fact that she was he could not know, for though Elizabeth spoke of everything else, the one subject she did not speak of was the single most important event of her sojourn in the north. Not even this appeased her sister’s husband, for he could not remain quiet when there were inanities to be spoken.
“It seems you have seen and done much, Cousin,” said Mr. Collins when Elizabeth’s words slowed. “Indeed, you are fortunate that you were thus favored by a family of the prominence of the Fitzwilliams and Darcys, for who could have predicted such kindness?”
“They are everything good, Mr. Collins,” said Elizabeth. Then, unable to resist tweaking his nose, she added: “But as they are such excellent people, one must expect them to be affable to all; if you consider that, their invitation to me cannot be a surprise, for they are by no means above their company.”
“With that I cannot disagree,” said Mr. Collins, misunderstanding the thrust of Elizabeth’s comment. “As you have been so favored, I hope it has not affected your sense of worth or expectations for similar preference in the future. One cannot allow greed to rule.”
“No, I would not wish that. However, Lady Susan Fitzwilliam herself informed me before I left that she would be happy to host me again, for she claimed to enjoy my company. And her daughters have become the best of friends, as has Miss Darcy.”
“What a fine thing!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet, though Mr. Collins did not appear to know what to make of Elizabeth’s comment. Aware that the gentleman, when he gathered his wits, would oppose any notion of a repeat visit, Elizabeth hastened to reassure him.
