by Leenie Brown
“Mr. Collins,” Charlotte’s voice remained soft but had taken on an edge. “I begin to think you unhappily married.”
This comment brought an abrupt stop to the progress of the group.
Elizabeth and Maria drew back a short distance to give a perceived amount of privacy to the couple.
“My dear,” said Mr. Collins. “Mr. Bennet’s best decision was to allow his daughter to refuse me.” He patted his wife’s hand and drew her a step closer to him. “You are my blessing.” He lifted her hand and gave it a kiss.
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open slightly as she saw her friend duck her head and blush.
“Very well, you are forgiven for your foul mood,” said Charlotte. “Do not fear about your cousins getting married. I am certain that they will all eventually find a home. They are far too pretty to be left sitting on the shelf. And do not forget that having friends with such connections will do my sister no harm.”
“Ah, you are wise,” Mr. Collins muttered as he resumed walking. “Yes, yes. I had thought this arrangement to be a potential disaster, but perhaps I have been seeing it from the wrong perspective. It is perhaps the benevolence of the Lord Almighty being poured out on his servant.”
“Indeed, it might be,” said Charlotte.
The remainder of the walk was made in silence as Mr. Collins waxed eloquent on the many unusual working of Providence in setting His good and proper plans into action. They had nearly reached the steps at Rosings when he was finally reaching the end of his circle through the many acts of God in ordering and directing his children.
“And we must remember that it was a harlot who was used to shelter Joshua and Caleb, and even the mighty King David stumbled.” He nodded in agreement with himself as he continued the thought. “Therefore, it is not unthinkable that He should also use a wayward cousin to bring great blessing to our family.”
“Mr. Collins!” Charlotte removed her hand from his arm. “I will not listen to you speak of Elizabeth or Mr. Darcy in such a fashion. As has been explained previously, Elizabeth was led astray by Colonel Fitzwilliam and locked — trapped — in that room with Mr. Darcy. She did not plot to capture him.” She lowered her voice. “And there was no seduction.”
Mr. Collins shrugged. “Perhaps, but it was still highly improper for her to be kissing him, and in such a fashion!”
“Very well, Mr. Collins, I will allow that kissing might not have been proper. However, I do think I remember someone kissing me when I had agreed to marry him, and I dare say hypocrisy is not becoming.”
Mr. Collins’s eyes grew wide, and his face became quite red. “I shall remember that,” he muttered. Then, turning to Elizabeth, he added, “You are forgiven your folly.” Before Elizabeth could respond, he was up the steps and knocking at the door.
Charlotte stepped closer to Elizabeth and Maria. “All will be well now. He will write his pleasure at your good fortune to your father,” she flicked her brows up quickly, “without any mention of impropriety. One must always know how to guide her husband if he seems to be going astray.” She winked and turned to follow her husband into Rosings.
And all was well, or as well as one might expect with a man such as Mr. Collins. It appeared from the way he sought out Mr. Darcy to praise him that evening and the flattering comments he made about Elizabeth that both she and Mr. Darcy had been restored in his good opinion. However, the colonel did not fare so well. He was watched with suspicion.
That night, upon returning to the parsonage, Mr. Collins sat down and wrote a most satisfactory letter to Mr. Bennet, declaring the joyful news that Elizabeth’s father should expect a call from a particular gentleman for a very specific purpose.
It was, therefore, a rather peaceful week in Kent, both at the parsonage and Rosings, that followed the passing of Easter. Elizabeth found a book of sermons near her place in the breakfast room each morning, open to what Mr. Collins thought to be an appropriate lesson on some matter of female duty.
This morning was no different. Elizabeth smiled and nodded to her cousins and allowed her eyes to skim over the contents of the lesson enough to satisfy Mr. Collins, so he felt secure in leaving her to complete the task on her own. She made certain to read a few passages so that when questioned later, she might be able to respond with some semblance of knowledge on the matter.
“He wishes you to do well,” Charlotte assured her. “Being a wife, and if the Lord sees fit, a mother is not a small task, though having your own home is such a pleasant thing.”
Elizabeth smiled as Charlotte sighed and sank back in her chair. Having a modest home of her own had always been Charlotte’s aim in life, and Elizabeth was happy to see her friend so well settled.
“I was right about him, was I not?” Charlotte’s eyes twinkled over the rim of her cup as she took a sip of tea. “He was in love with you.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks grew warm. Mr. Darcy being in love with her was still such a novel idea, but it was one that was quickly settling into her reality and becoming a piece of her.
“When does he ride to Longbourn to speak to your father?” Charlotte placed her cup on the table and broke off a piece of a roll and spread it with butter.
“Tomorrow, if the weather holds,” Elizabeth replied, closing the book of sermons and turning her attention to her own breakfast. A strange uneasiness settled in around her. It had been happening each time she spoke about Mr. Darcy’s trip to call on her father. She took a small sip of her tea. She was nervous about her father’s reception of the request, but this unsettled feeling seemed to be in addition to that flutter of nerves.
“I wonder if I should not travel with him,” she said. “My father will wonder at my reversal of opinion. He may wish to speak with me before he grants his approval.”
Charlotte’s brows flicked upward, and she smiled knowingly. “A letter should suffice.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “He may have questions that I have not thought to answer.”
“You not think of the answers to your father’s questions before he asks them?” Charlotte tsked and shook her head. “Not likely, my dear.”
Elizabeth knew this to be true. She was quite good at knowing just how her father would think about something, yet writing a letter did not ease her spirit the way the idea of travelling with Mr. Darcy did.
“I have never accepted a proposal of marriage before, so I cannot predict what he will wish to know,” she protested weakly.
Charlotte shrugged and sighed. “Go with him if you must, but do be honest about your reasons.” She stood and came round the table to give the top of Elizabeth’s head a kiss. “You wish to go with him because you do not wish to be parted from him.”
Elizabeth gasped and would have retorted that what Charlotte said was untrue, except for two facts, one, Charlotte had already left the room and two, Elizabeth’s heart spoke to her of her friend’s wisdom.
Elizabeth was still thinking about Charlotte’s comment about not wishing to be parted from Mr. Darcy when she went to fetch her hat for her walk in the grove. She could not come to an acceptable reason for her wish to be with him. She knew she enjoyed his presence. However, she also enjoyed the presence of Colonel Fitzwilliam, yet when she considered Colonel Fitzwilliam’s departure from Kent, she felt no great disappointment. It was the strangest thing — Elizabeth stopped mid-thought and mid-descent of the stairs as a familiar voice was heard in the sitting room. Her father was here?
“I do apologize for arriving without warning.”
“It is no imposition, Mr. Bennet.” Elizabeth heard Charlotte assuring him.
“My wife would have me search out the full extent of the matter about which your husband wrote. I must admit that it has taken us by surprise.”
Elizabeth placed her bonnet on the table in the foyer and, instead of going outside, turned into the sitting room. “Papa.”
A smile of delight lit Mr. Bennet’s eyes as he turned to greet her. “Ah, my Lizzy, you are a welcome sight.”
&nbs
p; Elizabeth gave him a hug and took a seat near Charlotte. “What brings you to Kent? All is well at Longbourn, I hope. Mama and my sisters are all well?”
“As well as can be expected after the news I received from Mr. Collins.” Her father’s head tipped, and his brows rose in question. “Your mother insisted that I come see you. She will not be settled until she knows all, and I shall have no peace until she is settled.” He chuckled and crossed his ankles as he leaned back and peered at Elizabeth, who was doing her best to look calm despite the rapid rhythm of her heart.
“Am I to understand that you have grown fond enough of Mr. Darcy to accept an offer of marriage?”
Elizabeth nodded slowly. “I have.”
Mr. Bennet blinked. “Well, well, well. So it is as Sir William suspected. The gentleman was fascinated by you.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks grew warm.
“He is wealthy. You will have no fear of want,” he paused, “but wealth has never been your desire.”
It was true, though Elizabeth wished for a home with ample income to be comfortable, she had never sought riches in a marriage partner. She had avowed that she would not marry unless it was to a man whom she could respect and would respect her in turn, nor would she be induced into matrimony without the deepest of affection. “It is still not my desire,” she admitted.
Mr. Bennet’s brows rose, and he clasped his hands in front of his stomach. “Then my daughter, you must explain yourself to me.”
Elizabeth’s brows furrowed. How was she supposed to explain something that she, herself, did not fully comprehend?
“Surely, my Lizzy, there must be a reason for your reversal of opinion of the man. Do you not still find him proud?” Her father asked as he carefully watched her face.
“Not improperly so,” said Elizabeth. “I admit that I did find him to be arrogant.” She sighed. “His words at the assembly hurt me, and I allowed them to colour my judgment of him. ”
Mr. Bennet nodded. “That is not unusual.”
“But it is not right,” protested Elizabeth. “I listened to stories about Mr. Darcy and delighted to hear him spoken of in unflattering ways. Those stories — by a man who should not be trusted –” she looked pointedly at her father, “those stories fed my dislike. They satisfied me not because I found them credible, for I did not stop to consider their veracity. They satisfied me because they agreed with my judgment based on a few hurtful comments. I did not bother to look for anything but fault in Mr. Darcy’s character. My wounded pride would not allow me to see anything different from what I wished to see.”
Mr. Bennet’s lips curled in amusement as his daughter’s voice became stronger and more forceful in her defence of her opinions being wrong.
Elizabeth stood and paced the floor behind the sofa on which she had been sitting. “The things that were told to me by Mr. Wickham were half-truths at best. He has not been ill-treated by Mr. Darcy. In fact, it is Mr. Darcy who has suffered at the schemes of Mr. Wickham.”
Mr. Bennet’s brows rose. “Indeed?”
“I cannot tell you all, for I have promised I would not.” She stopped and mentally shuffled through what she now knew of Wickham searching for something to tell her father that would not violate her promise but would allow her father to see Wickham for what he was. “Do you remember how Mr. Wickham claimed that Mr. Darcy refused to give him a living?”
Mr. Bennet nodded. “It was a request of Mr. Darcy’s father to bestow it.”
“It was,” Elizabeth came around the sofa and sat on the edge of it, facing her father. “It was not Mr. Darcy who refused but rather Mr. Wickham. He did not wish to take orders, and so Mr. Darcy paid Mr. Wickham a sizeable sum in lieu of the living. It was not until Mr. Wickham had wasted all the money and came back hoping to claim the living that Mr. Darcy refused to give it to him.” She leaned forward towards her father. “Three thousand pound along with an additional thousand given to Mr. Wickham by Mr. Darcy’s father was gone within three years. Four thousand pounds.” She shook her head. The fact that so much had been wasted on frivolous living still shocked her.
“So much?” Mr. Bennet could not hide his surprise.
Elizabeth nodded. “There is more, but I cannot speak of it.” She sighed. “You would do well to keep my sisters away from him.”
Mr. Bennet’s brows rose even higher, and his eyes grew wider. “Indeed?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Once I knew of the foolishness of my trusting Mr. Wickham, I had to reconsider my assessment of Mr. Darcy.” She sighed, and her lips curled into a small smile. “I was so utterly wrong about him, Papa. He is not what we thought. He is a caring brother, cousin, nephew, and friend. He is wise, but not without fault, which he will readily admit. When he errs, he makes amends. ” Her head tilted as she thought. “He is of noble character, Papa, and he promises not to scold too often when I make mistakes and wishes for me to read and debate. He does not find my wit to be a detriment.” Her smile grew. “And, Papa,” she clasped his hands, “he has thousands of books in his libraries.” She tucked her lower lip between her teeth.
“Thousands?” Mr. Bennet blinked at the thought.
“Yes, Papa, and all at our disposal.”
It was a moment before Mr. Bennet’s brows drew together and his eyes twinkled with delight. “So you would marry him for his libraries?”
She shook her head and laughed. “No, Papa, but Mr. Darcy thought it might help you grant your blessing.”
Mr. Bennet chuckled. “He respects you?”
Elizabeth nodded.
“Does he love you?” Mr. Bennet’s eyes grew serious.
Elizabeth nodded again. “Most ardently.”
Mr. Bennet sighed. “I have heard in your speech that you respect him.”
Elizabeth nodded slowly. “Very much.”
“Do you love him?”
Elizabeth’s brows drew together, and her shoulders lifted and lowered as she shook her head. “I do not know. I think, I might.”
Mr. Bennet grasped her hands firmly. “My daughter, if I were to refuse you this request, and Mr. Darcy were to return to Derbyshire never to return, what would you do?”
Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief. Her mouth opened, and she closed it as if she were lost for words. Her heart ached, and her chest constricted, making it hard to breathe.
Mr. Bennet released her hands and searched for his handkerchief, so that she could dry her tears. “Would you wish to follow him?” he asked softly.
She nodded.
Mr. Bennet’s smile was soft, as were his words. “You love him. I am satisfied.” He blinked against his own unshed tears, and then with a sigh, he clapped his hands on the arms of his chair and pushed to his feet. “Now, where might I find the man who has had the audacity to steal my Lizzy’s heart, so that I might give him my permission to continue to care for it?”
Chapter 11
Mr. Bennet found his quarry in the grove, pacing beneath a large tree and swatting at the grass with his walking stick. Once Darcy got over his shock at coming face to face with Elizabeth’s father so unexpectedly, he did an admirable job in presenting his request. Mr. Bennet wished to discomfit the man, but as he watched Darcy wring the life from his hat, he relented and readily gave his permission.
“I will require some time to come to terms with losing my daughter, and my wife will wish to make her good fortune known far and wide,” Mr. Bennet watched the tip of his walking stick as he twirled it in a circle. “A month should suffice. Although I would wish for longer, it is doubtful that you, Lizzy, or I could tolerate Mrs. Bennet’s raptures for any longer than a month.” He cradled his stick in his arms much as he did his rifle when out on a hunt. “Will Mr. Bingley be returning to Netherfield, or do you require accommodations at Longbourn?”
Darcy thought there was a bit of an accusatory tone to Mr. Bennet’s question. It seemed that it was not only Elizabeth who held him responsible for Bingley’s departure. “I am uncertain, but I believe he may indeed return.
The outcome of his calling at the Gardiners will be the deciding factor.”
Mr. Bennet’s brows rose. “He has gone to call at the Gardiners? I had not heard such. Jane is circumspect, but I would think she would have mentioned seeing a friend such as Mr. Bingley in one of her letters.”
“He has only just received notice of Miss Bennet being in town,” said Darcy. “I have not had a reply, nor has Miss Elizabeth had word from her sister, so I am uncertain if the call has taken place or the results.” He turned to Mr. Bennet. “Had I known Miss Bennet was in town or that she had called on Bingley’s sisters, I would have informed Mr. Bingley of her presence much sooner. However, I only just discovered this information when I arrived in Kent.”
Mr. Bennet’s lips puckered and relaxed as his brows drew together in question.
Darcy shifted uneasily under the man’s scrutiny. “When we left Netherfield, I thought Miss Bennet indifferent and cautioned my friend against forming too deep an attachment.” He sighed. “Miss Elizabeth assures me I was wrong.” He grimaced. “And from the melancholy I have observed in my friend, my warning came too late as it was.”
One corner of Mr. Bennet’s mouth tipped upwards in a half smile. “So my wife’s raptures might not be confined only to Elizabeth’s conquest of a wealthy gentleman?”
Darcy shook his head and chuckled slightly. “Mrs. Bennet might be doubly delighted, but I cannot guarantee it.”
“Very good. Very good, indeed.” Mr. Bennet’s smile grew wide. “I must request one more thing of you for my wife’s sake.”
“Whatever you wish,” said Darcy.
Mr. Bennet smirked. “I could be requesting something very nearly impossible.”
“Whatever you ask, if it is in my power to provide it, I will,” Darcy assured him.
Mr. Bennet’s smile softened, and Darcy was surprised to see understanding in the gentleman’s eyes. “You love my Lizzy dearly, do you not?”
Darcy felt his ears and cheeks grow warm. He had admitted his love for Elizabeth to Elizabeth and even to his aunt and cousins without much uneasiness, but admitting it to her father was somewhat more disquieting. “More than life itself, sir,” he answered softly.
