by Leenie Brown
Richard could not help the laugh that escaped him at that comment. “I shall see to our cousin,” he said to Anne, “if you will see to Miss Bennet.” He gave Mr. Collins a firm stare and tilted his head toward the door. “You will tell my aunt we will join her shortly.” He kept his intent gaze on the parson until the man decided it was best to do as instructed.
“Miss Bennet.” Anne extended a hand.
Reluctantly, Darcy released Elizabeth from his embrace, though his hand lingered on hers.
“I will see that she is safe,” Anne assured him.
Darcy gave a small smile and nod in response, but he still seemed reluctant to let her go.
Was he worried for her safety? The thought felt strange to Elizabeth. She could not help but compare such a response to that of her father who would have gladly allowed Elizabeth to follow after Collins for the sole purpose of seeing what might follow. Oh, her father would not allow her to fall into an untenable situation — she knew this for a certainty. Had he not allowed her to refuse Mr. Collins’s offer of marriage? But he would also not watch with the intent to protect nearly as much as the hope of finding something over which to laugh later. Was that perhaps why her father had allowed Mr. Collins to present his suit at all? She placed her hand in Miss de Bourgh’s and allowed herself to be led from the room.
She had never truly considered this a fault in her father before now, and the realization was rather unsettling. She turned her head to look back to the sitting room door. “Mr. Darcy is a very good man, is he not?” Quite a bit better than she had ever imagined. Indeed, she was swiftly coming to the conclusion that there were few men who were superior to Mr. Darcy in character.
“Without question,” Anne agreed.
“He is not what I thought. I have been completely wrong about him.” Elizabeth finally admitted aloud the thought that had been beginning to form in her mind from the moment Mr. Darcy entered the parsonage two days ago.
“How have you been wrong?” Anne asked as they descended the stairs.
“I thought him arrogant.”
“He is proud,” said Anne.
“But not improperly so. There is a pride of position, but not of one who lords that position over another solely for the sake of making them feel inferior.” Elizabeth stopped on a stair about halfway down the grand staircase and turned to look back up from where they had come.
Anne released Elizabeth’s hand and leaned against the balustrades across from her. “His countenance is so often grave when amongst strangers or those who make him feel ill at ease.”
Elizabeth nodded. “He scrutinizes.”
Anne laughed. “That he does!”
“But he is wise and discerning, is he not” Elizabeth turned questioning eyes towards Anne. There were still things that she did not know about the man to whom she had pledged her life. She once again wished for her sister Jane to be here to help her arrange her muddled thoughts
“I would say he is, but not always. He is not without fault. There is the matter of his sister,” she said the last part quietly.
Elizabeth’s brows furrowed as she thought about what she had learned of Georgiana’s narrow escape from Wickham. Mr. Darcy had readily admitted to having been duped by Mrs. Younge and to being less attentive than perhaps he should have been. He did not glance over it or deny any part he may have played in the affair. In fact, she had a distinct feeling that he felt his error far more heavily than he should.
Again, she was struck by the contrast between Mr. Darcy and her father. Her father would have found that the greatest part of the story lay with the foolishness of the young lady in being so easily led by pretty words and a pleasing countenance. Did he not speak of her younger sisters in such a fashion? Were their follies not his responsibility? Should he not be correcting them and their mother? Yet, he only found amusement. If he disapproved, he said very little! She shook her head. “Mr. Darcy is not without fault, and he accepts that he is not.” A small smile touched her lips as she once again realized just how fine a gentleman Mr. Darcy was.
Anne took a step down the staircase, and Elizabeth followed. “Was it only his pride that you had gotten wrong?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I had formed a great many incorrect notions about him, but they were all based on my thinking him arrogant.” She paused for a moment on the second step from the bottom. Her mind travelled back up to the room with the piano and the man she had discovered there.
“If he had not wounded my vanity, my vision of his character might have been more clear.” She had been so determined to not like him and find fault. Her sister and even her own conscience told her she might be wrong. She shook her head and descended the last two steps. Indeed, that was the reason she had not been able to decipher his character — her conscience would not allow it. Her doubts had suggested she might be judging unfairly. Now, there were no doubts to cloud her appraisal of the man. She felt as if a veil had been lifted.
“So you are happy to be tied to him?”
Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide, and her brows rose as she realized that she was indeed happy to be tied to Mr. Darcy. She nodded as a smile spread across her face. She was happy, but it was more than that: her soul felt at peace. There was no indecision, no wavering, not a morsel of regret. Marrying Mr. Darcy was right, and not just because she had been found with him in a compromising position.
“Then, I am happy that all has worked out as it should,” said Anne with a smile as she led Elizabeth into her mother’s sitting room.
Chapter 9
Elizabeth was happy to see Charlotte was also at Rosings. Mr. Collins was deep in whispered discussion with Lady Catherine as Elizabeth and Anne entered the room and took a seat near Mrs. Collins.
“What has happened?” Charlotte whispered. “My husband was in quite a state when he entered and went directly to Lady Catherine and began whispering to her. Was there an issue with your practising. You did practise, did you not” Charlotte cast a second wary glance toward her husband as she spoke in hushed tones.
Elizabeth could not contain her smile. “I am to marry,” she said, keeping her voice low.
Charlotte’s eyes grew wide. “Whom?” her lips formed the word, but no sound accompanied it.
“Oh, Charlotte,” Elizabeth said, grasping one of her friend’s hands. “I have been so wrong, and you have been so right. He loves me, Charlotte, just as you claimed.”
Charlotte’s eyes stayed wide, and her mouth dropped open before forming a smile. “Mr. Darcy?” she whispered.
Elizabeth nodded her head.
“But you are smiling. I thought you did not like him.”
Elizabeth touched her lips with the tips of her fingers. “It is the strangest thing.”
Charlotte caught a small laugh before it could draw her husband’s attention. “You are happy?”
Again, Elizabeth nodded. “It is the strangest thing,” she repeated.
“But my husband is not,” Charlotte added with a raised brow.
“They were discovered together in the room with the piano,” Anne added the hushed explanation. “Kissing.”
Charlotte’s eyes were again wide and wary as she looked from Elizabeth to her husband.
“Mr. Darcy was not fully dressed,” Anne added.
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open at Anne’s comment.
“He was not,” Elizabeth looked toward Lady Catherine and then back to Charlotte and added, “undressed,” in as low a whisper as she could manage. “At least not then.”
Charlotte was about to ask for a further explanation of the comment, but Lady Catherine chose that moment to intervene.
“Miss Bennet.”
“Yes, my lady,” Elizabeth replied, squeezing Charlotte’s hand. She could tell by the way Lady Catherine’s chin was raised and how she peered down her nose at Elizabeth that she was not pleased.
“A troubling account has reached me. It seems you did not use your full practice time to improve your skills at the piano.
Was the instrument not to your liking?”
Elizabeth blinked. This was not the accusation she had anticipated, and from the opening and closing of Mr. Collins’s mouth, it was not the accusation he expected either.
“No, my lady, I did not use the full time to practice,” she replied. “There were distractions.”
Mr. Collins could not contain himself any longer and harrumphed softly.
“Was one of these distractions my nephew?” Lady Catherine plucked at the lace at her wrist.
“Yes, my lady, Mr. Darcy was one distraction.” Elizabeth could feel her face growing warm.
Lady Catherine’s eyes stayed lowered as she seemed intent on straightening that bit of lace. “Did you seduce him?”
Elizabeth gasped.
Lady Catherine’s lips twitched briefly before she raised her gaze to take in the look of shock on Elizabeth’s face.
“No, my lady. I did not.”
Lady Catherine’s left shoulder rose and fell. “Mr. Collins fears you did.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I did not.”
Lady Catherine’s smile was soft. She could see that Elizabeth was on the verge of tears at having been accused of such an unseemly thing. It was a credit to the lady’s honor to be so shaken by such claims. “Then perhaps you can tell me how you came to be embracing my nephew when Mr. Collins entered the locked music room.”
Again, Elizabeth gasped. “I…I… did not lock the door,” she stammered.
Lady Catherine merely smiled and waited while Mr. Collins barely contained a comment.
Elizabeth swallowed. “I was on my way to practice, and Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had offered to escort me to the correct room, had to tend to some matter of business. He told me that the room I sought was three doors up on the left from where we stood, so that is where I went. I entered and closed the door.” Elizabeth paused, and her brows furrowed. The door had not been locked when she entered and yet when she had turned to leave moments later it was. “It was not the correct room, but I could not leave.” She shook her head. “It is most odd. A door cannot lock itself, can it?”
Lady Catherine shrugged. “None at Rosings do.”
“Then how was it locked after I entered if I did not lock it?” She thought back to when she closed the door. It had made two latching sounds. She had not thought much of it at the time, but now it struck her as not right.
“I could not say,” said Lady Catherine, plucking at the lace on her other sleeve. “You say you were in the wrong room, but Mr. Collins discovered you in the correct room. How did that come to be?”
“There is a door that connects Mr. Darcy’s room to the sitting room between his room and the one Miss Darcy uses when she visits,” said Elizabeth. “That room’s door was also locked.” Her head tipped as she considered that fact. “I was so mortified at having seen Mr. Darcy in his dressing gown and having spoken to him so harshly that I did not stop to consider how I was to enter that room to practice if the door was locked.”
“Mr. Darcy was in his dressing gown?” Mr. Collins asked in surprise.
Elizabeth nodded. “I believe he had just exited his bath. His hair was wet.” Though she was sharing what had happened, her mind was not fully thinking about what she was saying. It was still trying to reason away the locked doors.
She gasped almost in unison with Charlotte, who had been shocked by Elizabeth’s revelation about Mr. Darcy and his bath.
“Someone locked it!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Someone wished me to be locked in that room with Mr. Darcy.” She turned toward Anne. “Do you know who?” she asked.
“I do,” said Darcy, entering the room.
“It is good to see you properly dressed,” said Lady Catherine. “Miss Elizabeth was just telling me how you were in a robe when she entered your bedroom, and Mr. Collins assures me that you were not wearing boots or a coat when he discovered you and Miss Elizabeth in a most compromising position.”
Darcy tugged Richard forward and then gave him a shove toward a chair. “Richard would like to say something to you,” he said, turning to Elizabeth.
Richard sank into the chair that Darcy had indicated he take. Darcy had not been pleased to find out the truth of what had happened. He had not raised more than his voice at Richard, but he had made certain that Richard knew there would be a price to pay if he did not apologize to Elizabeth for his part in the scheme. Richard swallowed and bowed his head slightly. “I am to apologize for directing you to the wrong room.”
“And?” Darcy prodded.
Richard grimaced. “And locking the door.”
Elizabeth’s lips parted in surprise, and Mr. Collins sputtered something unintelligible.
“I will not, however, apologize for the results.” Richard leaned back, folded his arms across his chest, and gave Darcy a defiant glare.
“She cannot marry him,” sputtered Mr. Collins. “This must be stopped.”
“Why?” asked Lady Catherine.
“Why?” repeated Mr. Collins. “Why?” he repeated a second time. He flapped his arm in Elizabeth’s direction. “She is beneath him. Her connections are not so great as his.”
“I do not see why that signifies,” said Lady Catherine. “All I have learned of Miss Bennet is satisfactory to me. Her father is a gentleman with an estate that has been in the family’s possession for three generations. She is a lady of exceptional character. She is not a diamond of the first waters, but she is pretty. Her mind, I understand, is lively, and though she is without refinement in her accomplishments, she is not devoid of them.”
“But what of Miss de Bourgh?” Mr. Collins protested.
Lady Catherine blinked and looked at Anne and then back to Mr. Collins. “What of my daughter?”
“Is she not betrothed to Mr. Darcy?”
Darcy chuckled. “I have never offered, nor do I intend to make an offer.”
A smile spread across Lady Catherine’s face. “And I would have never accepted his offer if he made it.”
“You would not?” Darcy asked in surprise. “I thought you wished it.”
Lady Catherine rose from her chair. “I let you think that. It made it easier to search for the right lady if you thought I would be displeased should you tell me you were not marrying Anne.” She nodded her thanks for the tea tray that had been set up and began to pour. “Did I not do a good job of finding a lady for you?” she asked as she lifted a cup of tea for Anne to pass to one of their guests.
Darcy’s mouth hung open.
“Anne is too delicate for a northern climate,” said Lady Catherine as she poured another cup of tea. “And I really could not bear to have her so far from me.” She handed the cup to Anne. “And what would poor Mr. Abney do if you stole Anne away from Kent. He would never marry, and that would be a shame to have his estate untouched by a feminine hand.”
Darcy shook his head. “Mr. Abney?”
Lady Catherine nodded. “He has made his overtures.” Anne blushed and smiled as she took a third cup from her mother.
“When I heard about Miss Bennet’s refusal of Mr. Collins and her seeming dislike of you,” Lady Catherine continued, “I knew she was the one.”
Darcy’s brows furrowed, and he looked at his aunt and then Elizabeth, who was listening intently but looking as bemused as he felt. “You chose Miss Bennet because she did not like me?”
Lady Catherine smiled and shook her head. “No, because she was intelligent and given to debate. She did not dislike you.”
Darcy opened his mouth and then clamped it shut again. His aunt was making very little sense.
“You were rude,” said Lady Catherine, “and any lady worth her salt and able to take her place in this family would not let such a thing pass without displeasure.” She shook her head gently and chuckled. “Miss Bennet did not shun you. She engaged in a battle of wits, proving her value to you. And you were enchanted.”
“But she did not like me.”
“No, I did not,” said Elizabeth.
Lady Catherine smiled. “A misunderstanding. That is all it was.” She handed Darcy a cup of tea and patted his cheek. “How could anyone dislike you once they got to know you?” She returned to pour her own cup of tea. “That is why you had to be forced to spend time together. So, Miss Bennet could come to know and love you as Anne, Richard, and I do.” She turned to Mr. Collins. “I am afraid you will have to accept that fact that you were instrumental in bringing such joy to my family.”
Mr. Collins nodded mutely and slumped into a chair, clearly not feeling quite the thing.
Chapter 10
Mr. Collins remained melancholy for a full three days, only cheering up enough to do a credible job of playing the part of a carefree parson as required for services. On the third day, after he had finished his duties at the church, he seemed to have resolved whatever matter was causing him discomfort and, unfortunately for Elizabeth, found his tongue. Many were the comments about propriety and the recommendations of books that should and should not be read by ladies who aspired to such lofty positions as the niece of an earl. He could not stress to her just how important it was that she do her best to secure the Bennet family name as one worthy of consideration for positions of honor.
“And your sisters,” he said as the party from the parsonage walked to Rosings to spend the evening with Lady Catherine, “they could benefit from some instruction. It is not outside the realm of possibility that your mother would insist upon at least one of them attending a school if it meant the possibility of an excellent match. Why, with the name of Fitzwilliam and Darcy attached to her relations, she would be worthy of perhaps a baronet’s notice even without a fortune to her name. Connections, you see, are quite valuable.”
“Mr. Collins,” Charlotte said in a low voice. “It is not for us to arrange the disposal of all Elizabeth’s sisters.”
He harrumphed. “Her father has done a poor job of it thus far. He thinks them capable of selecting their own match, yet he does not present them in a greater society than Meryton. A shabby job he has done,” he muttered, “a right shabby job.”
