by Jann Rowland
Darcy could not suppress a laugh. “Do you suspect me of meeting a young woman alone on a country path?”
“No, I know my brother would never do such a thing,” replied Georgiana with a wink, suggesting she might wish he would. “I cannot be happier that you like her as much as I do, Brother.”
“I did not expect to find her likes here, of all places,” replied Darcy, his mind turning inward. A giggle alerted him to his sister’s amusement, and Darcy fixed her with an amused grin. “What do you find diverting, Sister dearest?”
“That my taciturn brother seems to have had his head turned by a young woman of little prominence. Might it be that I am soon to acquire a sister?”
Darcy shook his head. “That, I believe, is a little premature. Miss Elizabeth, fine woman though she is, was unknown to me two days ago. I wish to know more of her before I contemplate such things.”
“But you acknowledge it is possible?”
The eagerness with which his sister spoke alerted Darcy to her serious consideration of this matter. Then again, given her longer acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth, Darcy was not surprised she might be further on the path than Darcy was. Even so, she had not known Miss Elizabeth much longer than he had.
“Again, it is still premature,” replied Darcy. “Now, there is something else of which I would like to inform you, for I spoke with her of Wickham when we were walking together.”
Georgiana kept her composure at the mention of the libertine. “Oh? What did you tell her?”
“Nothing of Ramsgate, if that is what you are asking,” replied Darcy.
“Oh,” said Georgiana with unconcern, “we can trust Elizabeth with my secret, and I have no notion the knowledge would induce her to think anything less of me.”
“No, I do not suppose she would speak of it. It would be better, however, to keep the matter in strict confidence, for the more who know of a secret, the more difficult it is to keep.”
“That is true,” replied Georgiana, though with less concern than Darcy might have expected. “Then you must have told her about Kympton?”
“No, I did not speak of the living,” replied Darcy. At her questioning look he clarified: “Though Wickham is always eager to tell that story, I suspect he will not do so here, as Fitzwilliam will refute anything he says. The subject of our discussion was more general, as I informed Miss Elizabeth of Wickham’s vices and the dangers to her sisters.”
Georgiana sighed. “I do not suppose they will be as silly as I was.”
Though Darcy thought to interject with a protest, Georgiana shook her head. “Do not concern yourself, Brother. I have come to terms with my culpability in that manner, and I have determined I shall do better. It is nothing less than the truth that I did not behave as I ought. If one good thing has come of it, I am much wiser than I used to be.”
“Much wiser, I suspect, than the youngest Bennet sisters. They have not, as you have,” insisted Darcy when Georgiana made to protest, “been the target of a man of Wickham’s utter lack of morality. It seemed to me yesterday that they are still young and . . . immature, perhaps?”
With a sigh, Georgiana nodded. “So Elizabeth has told me.” Seeing Darcy’s look she smiled and said: “Kitty and Lydia can be great fun, but sometimes their immaturity shows. Mrs. Bennet and her elder daughters do their best, and they have a woman who gives them lessons, but I suspect they will not be the equal of their sisters when they are grown.”
“What is your impression of Miss Bennet?” asked Darcy, thinking of Fitzwilliam’s assertions of the woman and Bingley’s interest in her.
“She is a lovely woman,” replied Georgiana. “I do not find her as interesting as Elizabeth, but there is nothing the matter with her.”
“Does she return Bingley’s interest, do you think?”
Surprised, Georgiana gazed at him. “Oh, there is no doubt about that. I have never seen a woman so eager for a man’s attention as Miss Bennet is for Mr. Bingley’s.”
“That contradicts Miss Bingley’s assertion on the subject,” replied Darcy, his wry smile informing his sister of the jesting nature of his comment.
Georgiana understood and laughed. “Miss Bingley wishes for advancement in society, and though Jane is everything good, she cannot provide that.” Then Georgiana fixed him with a sly look. “If another were to display more interest in her, Miss Bingley would release her opposition to Mr. Bingley’s interest.”
“There you suppose wrong, Georgiana,” replied Darcy. “Though I am her first priority, she still wishes her brother to make a splendid marriage. I doubt she will accept her brother’s interest in Miss Bennet until he is waiting in front of the altar for her as his bride.”
Proving Darcy’s supposition, Miss Bingley continued to disparage the Bennet family whenever the opportunity presented itself, though in a manner which was a little less overt than her usual manner. She spoke of the neighborhood and the dearth of acceptable people, she waxed poetic on the difficult marriage situation in which the ladies found themselves, and more than once she referred to Mr. Collins as if the Bennets could choose their relations. By the time Fitzwilliam arrived for dinner, Darcy was tired of hearing the woman’s voice and wished she would cease her diatribes.
There was a brief time in which Darcy found relief from her constant words, for Fitzwilliam had heard of the previous day’s events. “I understand Wickham visited Longbourn yesterday,” said he. Though she continued to speak, Darcy and Fitzwilliam ignored her in favor of the subject at hand. “My officers mention you were also present?”
“We were,” acknowledged Darcy. “I was there when Bingley delivered the invitations to the Bennets for his ball, for I wished to be introduced to them.”
Fitzwilliam gave a low whistle under his breath. “Bingley delivered the invitation to the Bennet family himself? That will do nothing to quell the rumors of his interest in Miss Bennet.”
It appeared Miss Bingley heard the exchange, for she shot them a hateful glare. It was no trouble for Darcy to ignore her.
“No, I suppose it will not. That is Bingley’s concern, however, and I mean to have no part in the debate.”
“Good,” said Fitzwilliam. “Did Wickham behave himself?”
“As far as I could see,” replied Darcy. Then he grinned. “I would not suggest he is not up to his old tricks or that he cannot sniff out a woman with a dowry from one hundred paces. The moment he entered he singled out Miss Bingley for his attentions and did not leave her so long as we were there. It appears Miss Bingley has no dearth of suitors, for Mr. Collins also wished to make his presence felt.”
“Mr. Collins?” asked Fitzwilliam, amused by Darcy’s tone of voice.
“A cousin of the Bennets,” replied Darcy. “If I had not seen him myself, I might not have believed it possible that he could be so ridiculous. I almost wonder if he is Aunt Catherine’s parson, for he is the kind of self-important sycophant she might choose.”
“Then Miss Elizabeth did not tell you?”
“Tell me what?” asked Darcy, confused.
“Your supposition is correct, for Mr. Collins is none other than the current parson at Hunsford.”
Darcy groaned, regretting the quirk of fate which led to Lady Catherine’s parson being the Bennets’ cousin. “Once he realizes our connection with her, he will turn his attention on us.”
“You more than I, old boy,” replied Fitzwilliam “It would not surprise me in the slightest if he has heard of your engagement with Anne.”
“That is a fool’s wager, Fitzwilliam,” growled Darcy. “When does Lady Catherine not speak of it as if it were an established fact?”
“Never,” replied Fitzwilliam. Then he paused and chuckled. “This news of Miss Bingley is interesting. Who would have thought she would attract so much attention? I must see Mr. Collins courting her, for I know it must be a spectacle.
“As for Wickham, my senior officers know to watch him. Should he step out of line, he will not like my response.”
/> Darcy nodded and their conversation ended when Miss Bingley approached. One thing the woman did not appreciate was Fitzwilliam escorting her to dinner whenever he dined with them, he, being the son of an earl, while Darcy was only a gentleman. Darcy knew she would prefer he did not come, but as Bingley had issued a standing invitation to Fitzwilliam, she could do nothing.
As the woman had one subject of which she wanted to speak, it was difficult for the other diners to speak between themselves, Miss Bingley being possessed of a strident voice. Fitzwilliam listened to her rants for some time before he lost his temper. That loss, however, he turned to a moment amusing to almost all.
“It is unfortunate you dislike the Bennets so much, Miss Bingley,” said he when she paused to draw breath. “Getting on with one’s neighbor smooths the path for a landowner.”
Miss Bingley delivered a saccharine smile to her dining partner. “As my brother does not own this estate and shall not purchase it, our relations with our present neighbors do not signify. The opinion of such people would not concern me a jot anyway.”
“Fitzwilliam nodded, his manner serious. “I suppose you are correct, Miss Bingley. For myself, I find the Bennets to be a good and interesting family, one with which I wish to deepen my acquaintance.”
Fitzwilliam paused in thought. “If you are amenable to the suggestion, perhaps I shall suggest my father visit.”
“Your father?” Miss Bingley’s words were no less than a squeak.
“Yes,” replied Fitzwilliam. “The earl appreciates people of intelligence, and I suspect he will like the Bennets as much as I do.”
Miss Bingley’s surprise changed to a flat stare. “The earl would like the Bennets.”
“My father is not proud, Miss Bingley,” replied Fitzwilliam. “He accepts others on their merits, not their standing. Yes, I believe my father would like the Bennets very much.”
It seemed there was little more for Miss Bingley to say, for she remained quiet for the rest of the meal. Though Darcy could not speak for the others in the room, he appreciated her forbearance.
Chapter X
Visits were an important part of society, and Mrs. Bennet, as a woman who had not been born to the station she held as the wife of a gentleman, was careful to adhere to all such norms of gentle behavior. Elizabeth knew this about her mother. What she also knew was that her mother was a social woman, one who delighted in friends and family, in pleasant company and sharing news. That this rarely descended to gossip filled Elizabeth with a measure of gratitude, for it could have, given her mother’s open temperament.
Mrs. Bennet demonstrated this facet of her character the day after Elizabeth met with Mr. Darcy on the paths of Longbourn. While her mother was cognizant of the polite forms of society, however, it did not mean she was blind to certain facts regarding those at Netherfield. It was the principal reason they had not visited the estate often since the Bingleys had come to the neighborhood.
“I suppose,” said Mrs. Bennet that morning, “we should return the Bingleys’ civility and visit Netherfield, for we are already several visits in their debt.”
“Yes, that would be the proper thing to do,” replied Elizabeth.
Mrs. Bennet, knowing Elizabeth’s character well, noted the irony in her daughter’s voice. “If Miss Bingley was more welcoming, we might go more often. As it is, as they have been so good as to deliver the invitation to the ball to us, it would be rude if we did not return the call.”
“Miss Bingley is not so severe, Mama,” said Jane from where she sat nearby.
It was a matter of some urgency for Jane to think well of Miss Bingley, though it was true she felt that way about everyone. In Miss Bingley’s case, Jane’s growing feelings for the gentleman and her desire for good relations with a woman she hoped would be her future sister provided the impetus for her wishes. Elizabeth could well understand, though she knew Miss Bingley would not return Jane’s overtures. Elizabeth also felt, however, that Miss Bingley would, if faced with the reality of Jane as her sister, relent, though she was uncertain if the woman would accept Jane’s position as mistress of Mr. Bingley’s house, a position she held herself. In that instance, Jane’s sweet demeanor could either be a benefit or a detriment, and only time would tell which it would be.
“I think Miss Bingley would prefer not to associate with us,” said Mrs. Bennet, “but she will be gracious and accept us, I am certain.
“You consider the woman your friend, I know,” added Mrs. Bennet when Jane would have protested again. “It speaks well of you that you do, Jane dear. I say nothing derogatory of Miss Bingley; I only wish you would take care and accept the woman’s sincere overtures while seeing her with an eye free of any occlusion.”
This Jane accepted with a nod, and Mrs. Bennet turned her attention back to Elizabeth. “The only matter which concerns me is the fact that the Bingleys are to host a ball next week. Would we impose on upon them when they are engaged in planning?”
Elizabeth pursed her lips and considered her mother’s question, when Mr. Collins, who had been listening to their conversation, interjected with his own opinion.
“There can be no imposition. Why, my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, has always maintained that it is nothing to entertain guests whenever they deign to appear at her door.”
“That is interesting, Mr. Collins,” said Mrs. Bennet, her tone impatient. “Did Lady Catherine say as much when amid planning entertainment for the entire neighborhood?”
Mrs. Bennet’s reply threw Mr. Collins into confusion, his mouth opening and closing in a vain attempt to speak. Then he closed his mouth, swallowed, and offered a spurious declaration, one Elizabeth thought would have been worthy of his patroness.
“Lady Catherine is of such consummate ability that it should not matter what she was planning. I have seen her act as a hostess for friends she invited to dine as easy as she has hosted me for a night of cards.”
“In other words,” said Mrs. Bennet, “Lady Catherine does not host balls.”
“Well—” stammered Mr. Collins. “Not since I have been at Hunsford, though I am certain it is not beyond her capabilities.”
“In this instance,” said Elizabeth, eager to avoid an argument, “I believe I must agree with Mr. Collins’s assessment.”
The parson preened, but the smile ran away from his face when Elizabeth added: “But not for the same reasons. Were today the day before the ball, I believe it would be an imposition to interrupt their preparations. As there are several more days before the event, we can visit for a half-hour and not impose.”
A beaming Mr. Collins fixed Mrs. Bennet with a satisfied smirk, to which Mrs. Bennet caught Elizabeth’s eye and rolled hers discretely where the parson could not see. Elizabeth held in a laugh, knowing Mr. Collins would demand to know what was so diverting.
Amusement, when it came to Mr. Collins, however, was a fleeting emotion. After the private exchange between mother and daughter, Mrs. Bennet fixed Mr. Collins with an exasperated glare.
“I take it you mean to accompany us.”
“Well,” said Mr. Collins in his conceited tones, “one day I am to be master of this estate. As such, it behooves me to become acquainted with my neighbors.”
“Perhaps it is true you will one day own this estate,” replied Mrs. Bennet, “but you should remember that Mr. Bingley does not own Netherfield—my brother does. Thus, there is little reason for you to come to know him, for he will not reside there when you inherit.”
A mask of confusion overcame Mr. Collins’s countenance. Though she smirked at the point she had scored, Mrs. Bennet did not bother to revel in her victory. Rising, she fixed her three eldest daughters with a significant look.
“We shall depart in fifteen minutes’ time.”
Intent on accompanying them, Mr. Collins also left the room humming to himself, though his grasp of music was so poor that Elizabeth had no notion what he could be singing. Jane and Elizabeth shared a look, laughed, and then left the room t
o see to their own preparations, Mary following along behind.
The Bennet carriage was not a large vehicle and had been strained to capacity more than once since the Bennet sisters had become adults. With seven family members, Mr. Bennet was often obliged to ride on the box with the driver, for to seat seven in its confines was next to impossible. But the carriage had never seemed so small as it did that morning, though only five entered therein.
When one considered the relative sizes of the two men, there was no escaping the fact that Mr. Collins was a larger man than Mr. Bennet. The differences, however, we not so profound as to lead the Bennet women to suspect that Mr. Collins’s presence in lieu of Mr. Bennet’s would leave them all so cramped. Mr. Collins lolled about the carriage, unheeding of the family’s discomfort, never saying a word of apology, or even so much as noticing he was making the journey difficult. Rather, he fixed his gaze outside the window, ignored them all, and continued to hum in his tuneless approximation of a song.
It was fortunate that Mrs. Bennet had taken it upon herself to sit on the same bench as the parson, for Elizabeth wondered if she or one of her sisters might be considered compromised because of their forced proximity to him. Though her mother pushed experimentally at the hand which lay on the seat a time or two, Mr. Collins took no notice and remained where he was. At length, she sighed, shook her head, and exchanged a heavenward glance with Elizabeth. And while there had been times when Lydia or Kitty had behaved in a like manner, never had they been this heedless.
The carriage pulled to a halt in front of the estate, and Mr. Collins, taking no thought for his duty as a man, bounded out of the carriage and up the stairs to the manor’s entrance, leaving the four women behind. The surprised footman, who had not had time to open the door for him, looked inside at the mistress, uncertain of what he should do.
“Perhaps it is for the best,” muttered Mrs. Bennet, as she allowed the footman to hand them down.
“Had Mr. Collins taken my hand, it might have forced me to ask for a room in which to wash it,” said Elizabeth.
