by APRIL FLOYD
Elizabeth understood the courage it took for Mr. Darcy to confess such a secret. “I would never share such unfortunate news, Mr. Darcy. You have been most kind to my family and I am grateful for your care.”
The man moved closer and raised his hand as though he wished to touch her face. Elizabeth’s breath caught and she dared not move. Lydia’s voice reached them and Mr. Darcy stepped away quickly, his arm dropping to his side.
“I left an invitation to dinner at Netherfield with your father. I hope you shall come, Miss Elizabeth.”
Chapter 17
The Bennet family arrived at Netherfield the following evening for dinner with Mr. Darcy and Lydia, though angry over her complete banishment from Meryton, made ready for their outing with great enthusiasm. The frock she chose was one that seemed a bit much for dinner but Mrs. Bennet had allowed it as a concession. Even she was weary of Lydia’s tantrums.
Elizabeth had settled upon a light blue silk dress after trying and discarding three others. Her nerves were on edge for the occasion and she wondered whether Mr. Darcy might propose to her that night.
The way he protected Lydia in Meryton and his words later in the garden of Longbourn had fanned the flame of hope flickering in her heart. That he still cared for her company after the embarrassment of Mr. Collins’s outburst showed her again there was much more to the character of the man than she first thought.
Mr. Darcy was standing at the front door of Netherfield looking his most dashing when they arrived and Elizabeth wished Jane were present to help settle her nerves. Lydia, in spite of her ire with Mr. Darcy’s interference into her fledgling romantic notions, was unable to hold the gasp of surprise as the family exited the carriage to find footmen with bouquets of fragrant flowers for each Bennet lady.
“La, Mr. Darcy has gone to some expense and trouble to find such blooms this time of year with the greenhouses of Netherfield not yet filled.”
Mrs. Bennet’s face beamed her approval and her effusions of surprise even moved the dejected Mary to smile. Elizabeth thought how very young her mother looked when she was truly pleased. The woman she’d always thought fussy and difficult had not always been unhappy. Knowing the small but thoughtful and certainly expensive offering came from the man she hoped to wed, Elizabeth allowed her eyes to admire Mr. Darcy as he stood ready to greet them in the waning light of the day.
He was the perfect height for his chin would find its home naturally against the top of her head. Such thoughts stirred strong, thrilling emotions as she followed behind her parents to be received at Netherfield.
When Mr. Darcy took her hand and placed a chaste kiss against the fabric of her glove, Elizabeth breathed deeply to remain steady on her feet. Did he know the storm of emotions he stirred in her breast?
“Mr. Darcy, you surely know that ladies of every age do love exotic blooms. I believe Mother shall have the best time regaling her friends with tales of extravagance and such gallantry.”
He leaned close and whispered as Mary and Lydia approached. “Tis my plan, Miss Elizabeth. I would win the heart of your mother so that I might conquer your own.”
The admission of his aim so boldly given weakened her knees further and Elizabeth could only gaze into his eyes, words failing her. Mary and Lydia joined them and thanked Mr. Darcy for their perfect bouquets.
Mrs. Bennet had been given the largest and the girls had been given matching smaller arrangements. Elizabeth’s was the loveliest. A bouquet of hothouse flowers with greenery that resembled the fields of Hertfordshire in summer.
As the party settled in the parlor before dinner was served, Mr. Darcy engaged Mr. and Mrs. Bennet in pleasant conversation while Elizabeth listened intently. Lydia and Mary drifted to the pianoforte and soon the strains of Mary’s practiced hand filled the room. Elizabeth thought to discourage the younger girls but Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bennet stood and bowed to her and her mother.
Moving about the room in Mr. Darcy’s arms seemed a dream to Elizabeth. He truly might ask for her hand that very night! Forcing her excitement down, she gazed into his eyes as he skillfully moved her around the room.
Mr. Darcy gazed intently upon her face before speaking low, his tone sending shivers through his partner. “To be fond of dancing is a certain step towards falling in love, Miss Elizabeth. I was never fond of it until now.”
Elizabeth knew then her hopes were to become reality. “Till this moment, I never knew myself, sir, the joy of moving as one without thought for where my feet are placed. What could it mean?”
Mr. Darcy halted their steps as the music faded. He held her gaze as time slowed. “Miss Elizabeth, would you do me the great honor…”
His words were drowned by the noise of an arrival in the entryway and Elizabeth turned as Lady Catherine swept in with Mr. Collins scrambling behind her.
Mr. Darcy moved quickly across the room leaving a worried Elizabeth glancing nervously to her father. The appearance of Lady Catherine could only mean Mr. Collins had carried the tale of her refusal back to Rosings.
“Aunt Catherine, why have you come? Is my cousin well?”
The Bennet family fell silent with even the noisy Lydia having the good sense to mind her manners. Perhaps it was the curiosity over the arrival of the lady and the parson that stayed her tongue. Elizabeth was grateful no matter the reason but it was Mary’s small whimper that drew her eyes away from Mr. Darcy’s aunt.
Her expression was one of great pain and embarrassment and Elizabeth went to her where she still sat before the pianoforte. Mr. Collins took a step forward but Lady Catherine pinned him with an imperious gaze and he halted, his head cast down to avoid causing Mary further pain.
“Fitzwilliam, I cannot think you are concerned for my Anne if what my parson reports is indeed the truth. Send your guests away at once, there is much to be discussed.”
The grand lady proceeded to make her way to the sofa fully expecting her nephew to do as she ordered. Instead, Mr. Darcy advanced on Mr. Collins. As his hands went to the man’s lapels, Mary jumped from her seat beside Elizabeth and dashed to the parson’s side. “Mr. Darcy, you must not hurt him!”
Chaos descended in the parlor of Netherfield as Mr. Bennet retrieved Mary and Mrs. Bennet’s voice joined Lydia’s in excited exclamations over the thrilling tension and certain violence.
Elizabeth hung her head in shame and wished she might slip quietly from the room. Looking about for an exit, she was brought up short by the booming voice of Lady Catherine. “Which young lady is Miss Elizabeth?”
Mr. Darcy forgot his anger with Mr. Collins and turned on his aunt. “It matters not Aunt Catherine, as you will not be staying downstairs. I will have dinner sent up and in the morning you will leave Netherfield. If the hour were not so late, I would have you removed.”
The lady rose and looked around the room, her eyes assessing each Bennet daughter. When she fixed Lydia with a reproving stare, the young lady gave away the identity of her sister in her unease. “That is Lizzy there at the pianoforte, your ladyship. She would not marry your parson for she is in love with Mr. Darcy.”
Mr. Bennet whirled around and descended on his youngest daughter taking her in hand. “Come along, Lydia. You have just lost your seat at Mr. Darcy’s dinner table. Mother,” he called to Mrs. Bennet, “we are to home.”
Mrs. Bennet stomped a foot and began to fuss at her husband when Lady Catherine made a most terrible shrieking noise. “This is not to be borne! However might my nephew have considered a young woman from such a crass and low family? The shades of Pemberley shall not be thus polluted!”
Mr. Darcy bit back the anger he held for his aunt and spoke only to Mr. Bennet. “Please, sir, see your family into the dining room and I shall join you after I have seen my aunt settled above stairs. I wish to speak to you and ask for Miss Elizabeth’s hand this night.”
Lady Catherine lunged at her nephew, her cries piercing the ears of all present. The Bennets hurried from the room and only Elizabeth remained frozen to her seat at
the pianoforte.
Mr. Darcy held her gaze, his eyes pleading with her to join her family but her body would not obey his wishes. He had just told her father of his wish to marry her and the terrible sight before her of Lady Catherine crashing into Mr. Darcy did not signify.
Mr. Collins dashed across the room and took her by the arm pulling her to her feet. Elizabeth tried to resist but he hissed at her, his words piercing her brain. “Come, Cousin Elizabeth, you must not anger Lady Catherine further.”
As Mr. Darcy held his aunt firmly, she continued to screech at him and the vile words issuing forth shocked Elizabeth to her core. As Mr. Collins pulled her past the pair, Lady Catherine twisted in her nephew’s grasp and lunged at Elizabeth.
Mr. Collins was quicker and kept his cousin clear of his patroness and her white hot anger. He knew she would punish him later for his part in removing the object of her vitriol but he cared not at that moment.
Before Mr. Darcy might control his aunt once more, she stumbled and fell upon the floor, her cries becoming garbled as her body went limp at Elizabeth’s feet.
Chapter 18
Mr. Darcy paced the hallway awaiting word from the apothecary, Mr. Jones, who had come from Meryton. He had already dispatched a rider to London for the Darcy family physician as he knew his aunt had suffered more than a mere fainting spell.
Her anger had been such that he was certain she had suffered nothing short of an apoplexy. He ignored the parson who had been the cause of his aunt’s doomed mission as the man sat brooding quietly in a chair across the hallway. He ought to have gone home with the Bennets but Mr. Bennet had not wished to have him under the same roof as Miss Mary. Mr. Darcy could certainly understand the sentiment.
When the door opened and Mr. Jones stepped into the hallway, Mr. Collins jumped to his feet and stood beside Mr. Darcy. Keeping his emotions in good regulation, Mr. Darcy continued his avoidance of the parson and instead gave his full attention to the apothecary. “What can be done, sir, to ease my aunt’s suffering?”
Mr. Jones shook his head. “Tis only a matter of the passage of time Mr. Darcy. I fear she has suffered an apoplexy and there is little I might do other than advise that she is kept abed and not exposed to bouts of temper. To that aim, I administered a bit of laudanum to keep her quiet. I trust you have a physician coming from London?”
Mr. Darcy nodded. “Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Jones. I shall see that she is tended well by the staff. The physician should arrive by the morning.”
Mr. Jones tipped his hat to the gentlemen and made to leave them. Mr. Collins seemed to stir and called to the apothecary before he was many steps down the hallway. “May I sit with her Mr. Jones? She is my patroness.”
Mr. Darcy’s expression darkened as he stared at the foolish man. Before he might berate Mr. Collins, the apothecary replied. “Mr. Collins, it is my recommendation that she be left to the care of the servants this night. If Mr. Darcy would care to sit with her, he may, though I strongly urge everyone to leave her be to avoid worsening her condition. She is not able to withstand visitors now.”
Several maids joined the men in the hallway and Mr. Darcy sent the dejected Mr. Collins away down the hall to settle himself in his rooms. “Mr. Jones, rest assured that we shall abide by your word.”
Soon, the master of Pemberley was pacing the library of Netherfield wondering how it was that the evening had gone so wrong when all he intended was to seek Miss Elizabeth’s hand in marriage.
Through the intervening hours after his aunt’s collapse and the Bennet family’s exit from Netherfield without dinner, he recalled Miss Lydia’s willfully provocative declaration to his aunt. Miss Elizabeth had refused her cousin’s offer of marriage because she was in love with him!
Could it be true or was Miss Lydia merely seeking attention in the way she knew best? Regardless of the veracity of her claim, his aunt had believed it and so had he in his heart of hearts.
Only moments before Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins arrived, he had been lost in the warm depths of Miss Elizabeth’s fine eyes with the words he longed to ask tickling the tip of his tongue. Had that worm Collins not carried his foolish words back to Rosings, Mr. Darcy might this very night have become engaged to Miss Elizabeth!
Now instead, his Aunt Catherine lay ill upstairs and would remain at Netherfield for some time. He would have to send word to Anne in the morning and certainly she would come to sit with her mother. Mr. Darcy shook his head at the complications his family had suddenly visited on his peaceful existence at Netherfield. His friend Charles Bingley was in for a rude surprise when he returned from his wedding trip.
Seating himself at the desk, he began the letter to Anne before he succumbed to the tired ache in his shoulders. Of course, he ought to leave in the morning to fetch his cousin himself to see her safely to Netherfield but the idea of leaving his Aunt Catherine alone with only the parson displeased him.
Instead, he decided he would send Collins to do the deed. It served the man right for being the cause of his current difficulty! Pleased with himself, he finished the letter and left it on the desk for morning when he would send it along with Collins after the doctor had made his diagnosis.
Rising to leave the library, he wandered to the front door of Netherfield and breathed deeply of the frigid night air. He wished he might walk to Longbourn and see his love but he must remain nearby in case his aunt’s condition worsened. Besides, one did not pay a call on a young lady so late. It simply was not done.
He chuckled to himself knowing Mrs. Bennet would not have cared one bit if he arrived after dark to pledge his love to her daughter. His ten thousand pounds would smooth his way with the mother but Mr. Bennet was a bit more formidable. Miss Elizabeth was his favorite child and he would do no less for her than he had for Miss Mary.
Turning back to make his way inside, Mr. Darcy promised himself that he would speak with Mr. Bennet regarding Miss Elizabeth after his cousin had come from Rosings to see to her mother. Once his Aunt Catherine was out of the woods, he could get on with his life.
Chapter 19
As Lady Catherine’s carriage rumbled away from Hertfordshire, the driver having been supplied his instructions from Mr. Darcy as to the speed with which he must perform his task, Mr. Collins sulked as he stared at the passing scenery from his seat upon the bench.
His body was weary from the travel to and fro in the past days and he wished now that he had not spoken a word of his cousin and Mr. Darcy to Lady Catherine. Whatever trouble he wished to spare himself was only delayed by the terrible attack her ladyship had suffered in the parlor.
The doctor from London had arrived before he was to leave for Rosings to collect Miss de Bourgh and the diagnosis of the apothecary had been validated. His patroness would remain in Hertfordshire for weeks until she was well enough to travel home to Kent. In the meantime, he was to fetch her daughter and see that she was safely delivered to Netherfield Park.
The memory of his cousin Mary’s behavior the night before had lit a small flame of hope in his heart but Mr. Bennet had snuffed that out when he refused to make a place for Mr. Collins at Longbourn. It was likely he would never have the woman he truly loved and his efforts to save his own living had backfired spectacularly.
As the miles passed beneath the carriage wheels, Mr. Collins thought how he might save himself and impress Lady Catherine though she lay ill and Mr. Darcy would not allow him admittance into her rooms no matter how he begged.
At Longbourn, Mary Bennet would not come down for breakfast and though both Lydia and Elizabeth went to her door and sought entrance she refused them with anguished cries. “For pity’s sake, leave me be in my shame!”
Mrs. Bennet went to her husband after leaving Hill to sort the dining room after breakfast and petitioned him on behalf of their middle daughter.
“Husband, you know well that we shall not have many young gentlemen seek our Mary’s hand in marriage. Why could you not allow Mr. Collins to stay with us? Certainl
y he has caused a most terrible calamity but he was correct in his estimation of our Lizzy and Mr. Darcy. Surely you see that?”
Mr. Bennet listened patiently as his wife paced his study carrying on over Mary and Mr. Collins. He was most unhappy with the parson and his plot to ruin Elizabeth to save himself. For that was all he had done! Though his wife was correct with her reasoning regarding Mary, he did not wish to see the man gain the true desire of his heart after having caused such upset for Lizzy.
“Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Collins has shown a decided lack of decorum and caused a terrible fate to befall his own patroness. Why would I wish such a man for our Mary? Tis true she shall likely spend her life as a spinster but that is preferable in my opinion to her spending her life with a foolish man who meddles in the affairs of his betters.”
Mrs. Bennet gave an irritated huff and turned to leave her husband to his books. “His room here shall remain empty Mr. Bennet and if he is cast out of Netherfield, you must reconsider. You have not thought that the influence of our middle daughter with her steady and sedate nature might be the antidote for his impulsivity. At least she would have a home of her own and a life beyond Longbourn where our neighbors shall forever laugh behind her back.”
Mr. Bennet watched his wife quit the room and held his tongue. She was not often right, not by his estimation, but the story of Lady Catherine’s arrival had certainly already traveled among his neighbors. The scene that had played out in the parlor at Netherfield would be added before the day’s end and cause not a small amount of whispers for his middle child to endure.
He decided if the parson was put out of Netherfield by Mr. Darcy, which was truly a distinct possibility, he would offer the man lodging but with the agreement that he must not encourage Mary unless there was a stated offer for her hand.
