Implacable Resentment

by Jann Rowland

  But Darcy knew Elizabeth. He knew how strong-willed and how fierce she could be. It was the only thing which kept him from rushing off to Kent that very moment with the intent to impale the stupid man if he should so much as touch her. Darcy did not doubt that she would attempt to avoid Collins that night, and if she had no other recourse, she could simply refuse to allow him into her bed. And Darcy was certain that Collins—a man who looked to others to direct him in all things—was not the sort to force the issue. If Elizabeth refused him, then he would no doubt be angry, but whatever else he was, he was not violent. Lady Catherine would not employ a man with any history of such behavior.

  It was with these thoughts that Darcy at length made his way to the front drive of Netherfield. After arriving at the front entrance, he passed the reins off to a hostler and issued instructions that his carriage should be readied for immediate departure. Darcy then entered the house, intent upon finding its master.

  What he found instead was the master’s sister.

  “Mr. Darcy, we had quite despaired of your return!”

  Never before had Bingley’s sister grated on his nerves as she did at that moment. Her high-pitched simpering beat at his ears like the cries of a score of loud crows, and the cloying scent she used had him irrationally wishing he could bathe and have his clothes thoroughly laundered to remove the stench. He had no time to deal with the woman now.

  “I am sorry, Miss Bingley, but a matter has arisen which demands my attention. I must prepare to depart.”

  An expression of horror fell over Miss Bingley’s face. “Leave?” cried she. “But Mr. Darcy, you have only been here for a month. We expected you to stay for two.” She walked toward him with a smile in a manner which she obviously considered seductive. “Surely this matter may be concluded through correspondence.”

  Only years of conducting himself in a proper manner prevented Darcy from snapping at the woman. “I will leave immediately, Miss Bingley. I apologize for any inconvenience this might cause you.”

  With that, he turned and stalked off toward his rooms without a glance back in her direction, though not without a quick word to the butler to have his valet summoned and to inform Bingley of his imminent departure.

  It was a mere thirty minutes later when Darcy arrived in Bingley’s study. His emotions were a mass of competing thoughts and feelings, and several times, he had had to restrain himself from rushing off as had been his instinct all along. Though he could not state such with a certainty, Darcy thought that he was in love with Miss Elizabeth, and the idea of her being left to Collins’s mercy was almost more than he could bear.

  But he fancied himself a good judge of character, and he believed that Miss Elizabeth was as enamored of him as he was of her. Barging in without proper consideration could easily give rise to rumors which would be damaging to both of them, so Darcy had made the decision to trust in her. He would join her in Kent and begin to work on having the marriage annulled; there was little else to be done.

  The hall in the vicinity of Bingley’s study was quiet, but as Darcy traversed it, he thought he saw a swirl of skirts and caught a whiff of a sickeningly sweet scent drifting upon the air. With a scowl, he ignored it. Miss Bingley was nearby, undoubtedly hoping to gain some intelligence concerning his early departure. She would not receive it; she would learn the particulars in due time, but it would not be from him.

  Permission to enter the room was granted, and Darcy let himself in, taking care to ensure the door was closed behind him. As it was made of thick, sturdy oak, he doubted that Miss Bingley would be able to hear anything through it.

  The room was not as handsome as Darcy’s office in Pemberley, but of course, the entire building was not the equal of his own estate. Still, it contained a sturdy desk situated before a large windowed wall, and it gave an impression of solidity and constancy. The desk itself was littered with papers—not unlike Mr. Bennet’s had been, thought Darcy, his mind following incongruous paths—which bespoke the occupant’s naturally disorganized nature. Darcy had to suppress a smile; he had despaired of ever inducing Bingley to be more organized, and as the man seemed to be able to find anything he needed with minimal fuss, he supposed that it worked for Bingley, though it would drive Darcy himself to distraction.

  Bingley was pacing the room, clearly agitated and worried. Darcy’s sudden departure must have caused him to assume that something serious had occurred. He would be correct, though Bingley could not have conjectured the truth of the matter.

  “Darcy,” exclaimed Bingley as he entered the room. “What is this I hear about you departing early? I hope your family is all well.”

  “They are indeed well, I thank you.”

  “Then why the rush to leave?”

  This time, it was Darcy’s turn to pace, as he was uncertain how to address the matter with his friend. In the end, he decided simply to be blunt.

  “I asked Miss Elizabeth for a courtship, Bingley.”

  A smile of delight broke out on Bingley’s amiable face, for which Darcy was grateful; he knew his friend had the highest opinion of Miss Elizabeth.

  “I cannot but congratulate you, man,” said Bingley. “She is a jewel, to be sure.” His smile was soon replaced with a frown. “Then why the sudden need to depart? Have you spoken with her father?”

  “After a fashion, Bingley,” said Darcy, the scowl he had worn after departing Longbourn returning easily to his countenance. “I must leave because in asking for Mr. Bennet’s permission, I learned that he had forced her to marry his cousin.”

  Bingley’s jaw dropped, and he gaped at Darcy. “Forced her to marry him? When he had your offer before him? I must own to being completely at sea, Darcy. How could this have come about?”

  Forcing himself to remain calm, Darcy recounted the events of the morning, including what he had witnessed himself and what the housekeeper had told him. Once he had finished his tale, he noted that Bingley had become almost green at the implications of Darcy’s communications. Darcy believed that Miss Elizabeth had been singled out for this treatment from her father, but if Mr. Bennet was capable of forcing one daughter to marry against her will, then he would almost certainly be capable of doing the same to any other of his daughters. Such a thought no doubt passed Bingley’s mind as well.

  “Is the man mad?” cried Bingley. “I know a father has control over his children until they become of age, but this is completely incomprehensible!”

  “I know. And I shall see it annulled if it is the last thing I do.”

  Caught up as he was in his own worries, Bingley clearly had not considered the effect on Darcy, nor had he considered the reason for Darcy’s departure.

  “I apologize for focusing on my own thoughts, Darcy. But surely you cannot think that an annulment will be granted. Annulments are very rare indeed, as I am certain you well know.”

  “I am,” said Darcy. “But consider what we know about this marriage. Mr. Bennet forced his daughter to be married in front of a priest. The housekeeper testified that the bride was unwilling. I suspect her sisters would confirm it, should they be canvassed. In addition, were the banns read? We have been in church these past weeks, and the curate has never announced such a thing. And has Mr. Bennet obtained a special license? Though I cannot be certain, I very much doubt it.

  “When you add it all up, this entire event contains so many irregularities that it might as well be considered a farce. I intend to discover exactly what has happened and petition the church to put the marriage aside.”

  Bingley nodded slowly. “Have you approached the parson?”

  Darcy shook his head. “I was rather preoccupied when I left Longbourn and thought only of returning to Netherfield. I will let the church handle it; I am certain they will send someone to investigate when I bring it to their attention.

  A knock sounded at the door, and rather than granting permission, Bingley approached the door and opened it himself, revealing the butler and an agitated Miss Bingley.

&nbs
p; “Sir, a note has just arrived for Mr. Darcy.”

  “I told Mr. Colford that I would see that it was delivered to Mr. Darcy, but he would not give it to me,” said a clearly vexed Miss Bingley.

  Eyes narrowing, Darcy glared at Miss Bingley, certain that she had intended to pry into his correspondence.

  The butler did not appear ruffled. He simply offered the letter to Darcy and said, “The instructions were very clear. The letter was to be delivered to none other than Mr. Darcy himself.”

  “Thank you, Colford,” said Darcy, accepting the letter.

  The butler bowed and departed from the room, Bingley closing the door behind him before an obviously upset Miss Bingley could enter. Darcy decided that it was not worth making an issue of her behavior; Bingley would control his sister, or he would not. Darcy would not have anything to do with the woman, so it signified little.

  Looking down at the letter, Darcy noted that it was simply addressed to him in a feminine hand. He glanced up at Bingley, noting his friend’s interest, and broke the seal, opening the letter and noting that it contained one page written in a delicate script.

  Mr. Darcy,

  I beg you will forgive the impertinence of my writing to you, but as events this morning spiraled out of control more quickly than any of us could have imagined, I found myself almost literally in shock due to the unfeeling actions and implacable will of my father. I was not informed of your visit until after your departure and was thus unable to pass the message with which my sister charged me. Thus, I determined to write a letter to you, trusting Mrs. Hill to ensure that it is placed in your hands.

  My sister has not confided in me, yet given her words this morning, I suspect that something has happened between you which makes my sister’s situation that much more desperate. I cannot imagine what you must be feeling at present if my suspicions are at all correct. But before my father dragged my sister off to the church this morning, she charged me most to inform you that she did not go of her own free will. How my father could possibly behave in this manner, I cannot fathom. But Elizabeth was not a party to it, and she fought it until the very end.

  Please forgive Elizabeth, as she is blameless in this matter, just as she has been blameless for the misfortunes which have befallen my family. My parents to this day continue to lay the fault at her door, but since she was naught but a small child at the time, I cannot hold her accountable. Perhaps I have said too much, but I wished you to know that I do not doubt that whatever regard you had for my sister was returned in full measure, little though anything can be done concerning it now.

  Please think on my sister fondly, Mr. Darcy.

  God bless you,

  Jane Bennet

  “Well, what does it say?” prompted Bingley once Darcy had perused the letter at least twice.

  Not trusting himself to speak, Darcy merely offered him the letter, which Bingley took and began to read. It was only a moment before he looked up.

  “It appears Caroline was right,” said he in a soft tone. “There does appear to be some great mystery concerning Miss Elizabeth.”

  “I suggest you control your sister, Bingley,” said Darcy. “She should not speak so, especially given what Miss Bennet has now told us in confidence. I do not doubt that the rumormongers would be merciless should any hint of this get out.”

  Bingley nodded. “I will handle Caroline. I assume this does not change your plans?”

  “Not in the slightest. In fact, it only spurs me on. I cannot imagine anything more powerful than the testimony of her older sister.”

  Extending his hand, Bingley returned the letter to Darcy, who folded it and secured it in his coat pocket. It was a boon to have the housekeeper’s words confirmed by the testimony of Miss Bennet, but Darcy would still approach the situation with caution. He now trusted, more than ever, that Miss Elizabeth would never submit to Collins. That allowed Darcy to be a little more deliberate in making his way to Kent.

  Turning his attention back on Bingley, Darcy noted that his friend was focused inward, a frown of concentration fixed upon his countenance. It was so unlike Bingley. He was gregarious and happy most of the time, though he could be sober and deliberate when required. He was also of a rather impetuous disposition, and Darcy thought that this natural impulsiveness might be of benefit in his own situation with Miss Bennet.

  “I must depart, Bingley,” said Darcy, drawing his friend’s attention. “But before I go, I thought to advise you that if you are decided on Miss Bennet, that you had best move forward with alacrity.”

  A more typical expression appeared on Bingley’s face, and he replied, “I would have thought you would warn me away from so strange a family.”

  “It would be a little hypocritical of me, do you not think? I have every intention of seeing Miss Elizabeth’s sham of a marriage annulled and then making her my own wife.” Darcy frowned. “I doubt we will ever have anything to do with her parents, however, and I have no doubt that she would not wish to in any case.”

  Bingley sobered. “I believe I know enough of your implacable resentment to understand you capable of that, my friend.”

  “Then I must depart.” Darcy directed a pointed look at his friend. “Miss Bennet is a gem, Bingley. Do not let her escape.”

  Nodding, Bingley stepped forward and clasped his hand in a firm grip. “Then we shall be brothers, Darcy. I wish you well.”

  With that, Darcy departed. As he was leaving, he caught a glimpse of Miss Bingley as she descended upon Bingley, undoubtedly eager to pry any information she could glean concerning Darcy’s departure and the letter he had received. But Darcy turned his mind to other thoughts. He must decide how to approach the situation and, more importantly, how to extricate the woman he intended to marry from her predicament.

  The journey to Kent was miserable for Elizabeth. As if it were not terrible enough to be forced to leave Longbourn in the company of Mr. Collins, the carriage they used belonged to her father. Clearly, Mr. Bennet had offered it up in an effort to remove the “newlyweds” from Hertfordshire as quickly as possible. Elizabeth thought it cowardly of him, and it did not assist in softening her hard feelings for the man; of course, it was likely impossible for anything to do that at this point.

  Some hours later, they arrived in London, where Mr. Collins arranged for a hired carriage—again, she suspected it was done at her father’s expense—for the final leg of the journey into Hunsford. The family carriage was to return to Longbourn, where Elizabeth would have hoped the conveyance rotted and burned if it had not been for her concern for the safety of at least a few of her sisters.

  Throughout all that miserable day, Elizabeth could not help but be amazed at Mr. Collins and his inexplicable inability to see what was right in front of his eyes. She was not certain whether to attribute it to abject stupidity or willful blindness but concluded that it was likely a mixture of the two.

  “We are finally alone, my love,” Mr. Collins had said when the carriage first lurched into motion and began to leave Longbourn behind. “I dare say you have been longing for this moment as much as I.”

  He had attempted to sidle up to her and draw her close to him, but Elizabeth had been quick in moving to the other side of the carriage, though she refused to make any verbal response.

  But her actions had not deterred Mr. Collins; indeed, nothing had seemed to affect his equilibrium or his good spirits.

  “Ah, your feminine delicacy is truly something to be admired! I shall respect it, knowing that the day can only end in one manner.” The disgusting leer which accompanied his statement, not to mention the lascivious manner in which his eyes raked over her form, had made Elizabeth feel unclean, but she had resisted saying anything, determined to remain silent. If only she could induce him to do likewise!

  Unfortunately, Elizabeth was not naïve enough to believe that she could ever induce him to silence. Instead, the man kept up an unending monologue the entire length of their journey, speaking on such disparate topics as the
state of the roads and the countryside in which they travelled. The random comments concerning his lady patroness with which he interspersed such subjects did nothing but make the monotony of the road seem even more pronounced.

  By the time they arrived at Hunsford, the daylight was waning. There were only a few servants at the parsonage, but they had gathered together at the return of the master and were waiting in the drive to the house as the carriage pulled up.

  The parsonage itself was a handsome building, and for once, Elizabeth thought that the man’s overweening sense of pride might actually be somewhat warranted. It was a two-story house, seemingly quaint and comfortable, and it was situated in the midst of several strands of woods, with the fields of the great estate it served on the other side of the road. If Elizabeth looked around toward the back of the house, she could see signs of a small park which undoubtedly contained gardens and perhaps even some small area in which to indulge in a morning stroll. The entrance was protected by a small portico, and the door appeared to be made of the same solid English oak which typically decorated the doors of most houses in the country. In other circumstances, Elizabeth thought that she would have been very comfortable there indeed.

  Mr. Collins stepped out of the carriage, and though Elizabeth considered refusing to alight, she decided it would serve no purpose. Therefore, she stepped down and stood in the gravel, though she did reject the parson’s hand when it was raised to assist her.

  “Mrs. Collins,” began Mr. Collins in a grandiose tone, “welcome to your new abode. I trust that you will find our home to be comfortable and convenient, and I would count it a most sensible mark of your foresight if you should call on Lady Catherine de Bourgh regarding anything of which you are unsure, for she has the most particular experience and will direct you in everything in which you stand in need.”