‘Miss Elizabeth.’ His demeanour was no less rigid than it had been the last time she had encountered him, but something in Lizzy’s opinion had shifted. He seemed—in comparison to Mr. Collins—so measured, so economic with his words. What Lizzy had once perceived as a flaw she now thought almost refreshing.
‘Ah but of course, Mr. Darcy,’ Mr. Collins said in his usual almost apologetic tone. ‘You have already met my bride-to-be.’
Elizabeth couldn’t help but notice the slight deepening of colour in the face of the gentleman from Derbyshire, and the pursing of his lips. She forced herself to look away and smile at the other new arrival as Mr. Collins introduced her and her aunt to Colonel Fitzwilliam and owned that it was indeed a privilege that two such gentlemen would deign to visit his humble home.
14
The colonel, Elizabeth found to her delight, was a most genial character. He talked at length in a manner quite contrary to Mr. Collins, and sought her opinion on a wide variety of topics. In this way, Elizabeth happily engaged in conversation with him for almost an hour.
His cousin, on the other hand, barely uttered a word. At length, when the conversation between the ladies and the colonel had fallen into a lull, Lizzy could not resist the urge to mention the matter that troubled her greatly.
‘How was London, Sir? I do hope you and Mr. Bingley managed to settle your urgent business there.’
She coloured. It did not become a lady to ask after business matters, but she had been unable to help herself. That the gentlemen had known nothing of her father’s fate, she was certain. Still, she liked to think that it must have been an urgent matter indeed that had torn Mr. Bingley away from the woman by whom he had seemed so entranced.
Mr. Darcy appeared surprised by her question. After a moment’s pause, he replied ‘indeed’ and that was the end of the matter.
‘I must congratulate you on your engagement, Miss Elizabeth,’ Mr. Darcy said suddenly, looking uncomfortable.
Elizabeth’s first instinct was to wring her hands and explain the matter. She swallowed that impulse, surprised at herself for even reacting in that way. It was the sort of behaviour she might expect from her impulsive sister Lydia.
‘Thank you, sir,’ she said primly.
Mr. Collins turned away from the window and smiled at her in the proprietorial way he had come to look upon her. ‘Indeed, Mr. Darcy. It was your aunt who highlighted to me the importance of finding a bride and setting an example for the parish.’
‘Indeed,’ Mr. Darcy said, quickly looking away. His eyes landed on the volume Elizabeth had pushed aside upon their arrival. ‘An interesting book, Miss Bennet?’
Elizabeth coloured, remembering that Mr. Darcy had been perusing the same volume at Netherfield. Whether this was by chance or by some unconscious design, she did not know.
‘I beg your pardon, Mr. Darcy,’ Mr. Collins interrupted. ‘My future wife’s taste is certainly not my own. I have no doubt that her mind will be much enriched after we are married and I have had a chance to educate her. I find novels to be a frivolous waste of time. No doubt you agree.’
Lizzy bit her tongue. Mr. Collins’s impertinence was growing less and less tolerable, but she vowed that she mustn’t respond with scorn. After all, he might be able to forgive her for challenging him in Mrs. Philips’s company, but he would never be able to do so should she confront him in the presence of Mr. Darcy.
She glanced up and noticed that the latter gentleman was scrutinising her quite closely; his eyes bore a strange look that she had never seen before. He looked away.
‘I must say, Mr. Collins, I believe you yourself could learn a thing or two by paying close attention to your future wife’s taste.’
Mr. Collins stepped back as if stung by a wasp, but he soon recovered. ‘Indeed, Mr. Darcy,’ he said quietly, his usual fervour greatly diminished.
15
Not long later, the two gentlemen took their leave to return to Rosings. The colonel was in high spirits after a pleasant afternoon spent in the company of such delightful ladies. Mr. Darcy felt no such lightness. He was deeply troubled by the scene of domesticity he had just witnessed.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet had plagued his mind ever since the ball at Netherfield. Try as he might, he had been utterly unsuccessful in his quest to rid her from his mind. She was a pithy, wilful creature, who had surprised him with a wit that rivalled that of any gentleman at even the smartest clubs on St James’s.
But now? He had witnessed her silence in the face of such insults from that ill-bred clergyman, who had proclaimed himself her husband-to-be no less!
It took Darcy the entirety of the return journey to Rosings to identify the feeling that gnawed at him, and it alarmed him when he did. The change in Miss Elizabeth Bennet dismayed him, even though he had convinced himself that he felt nothing for that fine young lady.
‘Why, you are even more sullen than usual, Darcy,’ his cousin noted before they walked up the steps to their aunt’s home.
Darcy grunted.
‘Oh, come, cousin. What is it that troubles you?’
Darcy was spared further inquiry by the timely intervention of his aunt’s servants opening the doors.
‘I met Miss Elizabeth Bennet at Netherfield,’ Mr. Darcy noted carefully after they had finished tea and the card table had been set up.
His aunt took a break from prevailing upon Mrs. Jenkinson to play, the latter having great concern for Miss de Bourgh, who had remained in her room for dinner because of ill health.
‘What’s that?’ Lady Catherine asked.
Darcy sighed. He knew his aunt’s nature, and sought not to invite her curiosity in the matter. But his own curiosity was too great. She was betrothed to another; she was none of his concern, but the fact was, the change in her demeanour bothered him greatly.
‘Miss Bennet and Mrs. Philips. I had the pleasure of their company at Meryton.’
‘Ah yes,’ Lady Catherine said with a sigh. ‘I must say, I’m relieved that Mr. Collins has found a bride—it will stand him in good stead with his parishioners.’
‘Indeed. It surprised me somewhat. I met the mother, you see. She appeared bent on creating a match for the eldest daughter. I must say, I’m surprised that she chose a clergyman.’
Lady Catherine huffed. ‘From what I’ve heard of that family, Mr. Collins is a fine match for one of their daughters. Especially now the father is deceased and their estate is entailed on Mr. Collins. He did them a kindness.’
The card table was ready then, and they stood to gather around it. Mr. Darcy did not mention the subject of Elizabeth Bennet’s marriage again, but his spirits were greatly improved. For the truth was now as plain as day—Elizabeth Bennet hadn’t been forced into the marriage by her overbearing mother. He knew enough of her to know she was too spirited to agree to that.
No, she had entered into the engagement of her own free will. His heart plummeted again. He had never known destitution or the threat of it, but he had tenants who had come close. That such a fine, lively-minded young lady had been forced by circumstances to agree to such a marriage filled him with sadness. He gave the appearance of utter indifference, but his heart was a different matter entirely.
16
A further invitation to dine at Rosings was not forthcoming, but it was to Lizzy’s great surprise that Mr. Darcy and the colonel called at the parsonage most mornings during that week.
What surprised her more was the change that had come over Mr. Darcy. Oh, it was a subtle change indeed, but she had spent so much time studying him at Netherfield that she noticed something different about him.
For one, he enquired after her health and that of her sisters and mother.
She found it rather amusing. Perhaps the match between Mr. Darcy and Miss de Bourgh had forced a change in him, she reasoned. For what could two reticent people possibly do to fill the silence that must yawn between them?
‘To whom do you write, Miss Elizabeth?’
Elizabeth glanc
ed up, surprised to find Mr. Darcy’s eyes upon her again. She smiled. ‘To my sister Jane. I do so love to receive her letters, but I must own that she has been slow in response of late.’ Elizabeth stopped, not wishing to reveal her sister’s sorrow to the friend of the man who had caused it.
Mr. Darcy’s expression clouded. ‘That is a shame. Indeed, my own sister awaits my response. I must write when we return to Rosings.’
‘Ah yes,’ Elizabeth said drily. ‘She is a lucky girl to have so attentive a brother.’
‘She is lucky indeed,’ the colonel said, overhearing. ‘I have never encountered a happier young lady.’
‘Then,’ Elizabeth countered, ‘she must surely possess an extraordinarily sunny disposition.’
At this, Mr. Darcy simply stared at her. Colonel Fitzwilliam, however, appeared to miss the meaning of her statement. ‘Ah yes. A quiet girl, but happy none the less. Most accomplished too, you know. Why her performances on the piano-forte are extraordinary.’
‘So I have heard,’ Elizabeth said, recalling Miss Bingley’s applause of Miss Darcy. She glanced at Mr. Darcy and was greatly surprised to see a smile playing at his lips. He turned his head and caught her eye. Lizzy looked away.
What had come over her, she wondered, that she was now sharing conspiratorial glances with the man she had once held such a low opinion of?
‘Where is your dear husband-to-be, Miss Elizabeth?’ the colonel said, sighing indolently and getting to his feet. ‘I must inform him that my aunt has invited him to Rosings on the morrow.’
Elizabeth glanced around, surprised. She had not become aware of Mr. Collins’s absence, and had to own that she missed him not in the slightest. ‘I do not know, colonel. Perhaps he is in the garden. He takes great pleasure in cultivating it.’
The colonel nodded and stood. ‘I shall go speak to him at once before it slips my mind.’
The room appeared to shrink as the colonel left it. Mrs. Philips had drifted off, head against the back of the rigid armchair in the corner.
‘This seems a very comfortable house,’ Mr. Darcy said quickly.
Elizabeth nodded, careful not to express her true feelings on the matter. The truth was she had begun to feel confined by its four walls, as if they were slowly closing in on her and confining her to Kent forever. ‘Indeed.’
‘And such a well-tended garden.’
‘Yes,’ Elizabeth said. For some reason, she was finding it difficult to breathe even though the room was cool and airy.
‘A good living, provided the mistress of the house is sensible.’
Elizabeth wanted to cry out and object—why was he reminding her of her fate in such a way? ‘Oh yes, indeed.’
Mr. Darcy sighed, staring at her as if he was waiting for some mystery to be revealed.
17
Fitzwilliam Darcy had grown accustomed to being referred to as an honourable man. Now, he found himself wondering what that even meant. That he was wealthy? That so many depended on him for their livelihoods? He certainly didn’t feel honourable at that moment, sitting with the fair Elizabeth Bennet in the home of the man who would soon be her husband. It was perhaps the first true test that his honour had faced.
All he wished to do was take her by the hand and lead her away from this solemn place, which seemed to have sucked the very life-force out of her. But how? For it wasn’t simply a matter of his honour, he had hers to think of too. And there was the matter of her circumstances in life; matters which couldn’t easily be overcome.
He sighed. It was, after all, her choice. ‘I’m sure you will be very happy here.’
She smiled, but the quirk of her brow betrayed her true feelings, and Darcy was once again thrown into confusion and indecision.
Finally he settled the matter in his mind. There was nothing to be done. Surely matches had been made that were far more unhappy than this one.
‘Tell me more about your sister, Mr. Darcy,’ she said.
And the order was once again restored.
‘You would like her,’ he said softly. ‘She is a gentle girl, as my cousin said. Kind and good-natured.’
At that moment, the door opened and Mr. Collins returned with the colonel. ‘I have good news, Miss Elizabeth. The colonel has just expressed to me that Lady Catherine requests our presence at Rosings tomorrow. You must be honoured.’
Darcy watched her face; saw it crumple for a second or two before she corrected it. High birth or low birth; regardless of her place in society, marriage to Mr. Collins seemed a terrible fate for a young woman with such a quick mind and fair countenance. But what was to be done?
18
Elizabeth Bennet felt giddy with relief as she tiptoed past Mr. Collins. She had already evaded a napping Mrs. Philips and thought herself lucky that Mr. Collins was so devoted to his garden. He was knee deep in his flower bed. Elizabeth thanked heavens for primroses as she crept along the grass, through the gate and out of sight.
This was a new limitation for her. For her whole life at Longbourn, she had enjoyed the freedom to move and walk as she pleased. Things were different in Kent. Mrs. Philips was a lax chaperone, something which greatly aggrieved Mr. Collins. The first time he had spied her attempting to leave the parsonage by herself, he had rebuked her, suggesting that Lady Catherine might look unfavourably on his future wife going out unescorted.
Just a year before, Elizabeth might not have cared about her ladyship’s opinion—now it mattered very much. But she couldn’t settle. She had grown used to regular exercise and felt that to be accompanied on her loop of the park by Mr. Collins might detract from the physical benefits. She kept close to the palings and resolved to stay a good distance away from the great house. Besides, she had watched the comings and goings of her ladyship and determined that she rarely if ever left Rosings before the afternoon.
Once Elizabeth was out of sight of the parsonage, her mood improved greatly. There was one benefit that would accrue to her once she was married, she thought—she’d be free once again to go walking alone. She couldn’t think of a pastime more pleasurable, especially not in Hunsford.
‘Mr. Darcy has been surprisingly amiable of late,’ she murmured to herself, bending to examine a little sunken pool in the grass which had frosted over during the night. The ice was so delicate; lined with thin cracks and yet transparent in the places that remained untouched. She stared at it a while, resisting the temptation to tap it with her toes and shatter its perfection.
‘Miss Bennet,’ said a familiar voice that made her start. ‘You’re out early this morning.’
Lizzy looked up and saw that the colonel was approaching fast, not twenty yards away. ‘Good morning, Colonel Fitzwilliam,’ she said, cursing herself for taking a risk and disobeying Mr. Collins. ‘Yes, indeed. It is a fine morning. So fresh and bright for a change.’
‘Indeed,’ he said, coming to a stop beside her. ‘I was just coming to the parsonage to make sure you’ll be joining us this evening.’
Elizabeth swallowed. If Mr. Collins was to see her return with the colonel unescorted… She smiled wryly, knowing that her cousin’s displeasure would be proportionate to the position in society of the man with whom she had been alone. ‘Oh yes of course we are,’ she said. ‘I’ll accompany you back to the parsonage.’
‘Why there is no need, my dear, haven’t I confirmed your attendance?’
Elizabeth smiled. He was such a contrast to Mr. Collins and his rigid formality. ‘Indeed you have, I suppose.’
‘May I accompany you on your way?’
‘Yes, if it pleases you. Though I must say, I have no route in mind. The park is so unfamiliar to me still that I enjoy the simple pleasure of exploring its walls without regard to a particular route.’
‘That is quite fine by me, my dear. The day is young and unfettered—so long as Darcy does not decide to depart. I am at his disposal.’
Elizabeth smiled. ‘He is a lucky man, Mr. Darcy, to act as he pleases.’
‘He likes to have his own wa
y,’ the colonel agreed. ‘But that is true of us all. My cousin is a man of means; he can afford to do so more than the rest of us.’
She couldn’t help but smile at this. ‘Surely the same could be said for the son of an earl.’
He sighed but his expression remained genial. ‘Oh but it were true for the second sons as well as the first.’
‘Or even the daughters,’ Lizzy added, in an unguarded moment.
The colonel appeared to take her remark as having referred to the daughters of his family, rather than her own. ‘Oh, Miss Darcy is very well cared for,’ he remarked. ‘She wants for nothing; her brother sees to that. I share guardianship with her brother, though I must admit he does the larger share.’ He paused and added, ‘A wonderful young lady,’ as if Elizabeth doubted it were so.
‘I have heard,’ Elizabeth said, hoping to allay any misunderstanding for she had not meant to refer to Darcy’s sister. ‘I have never had the pleasure of meeting her, but some ladies of my acquaintance, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, are most enamoured of your young charge.’
‘Ah yes,’ the colonel said. ‘I am aware of them. Their brother is a great friend of Darcy’s.’
‘Mr. Bingley,’ Elizabeth said. She couldn’t utter the gentleman’s name now without conjuring up an image of poor Jane and the tearstained letter that had dashed all of their hopes for the future. Having spent time at the side of Mr. Collins, Elizabeth couldn’t help but resent Mr. Bingley for the fate he had left her. ‘Indeed. The poor fellow must be exhausted. Why, I heard he positively dashed away from the country home he had rented; summoned to town for some important business or other.’
At this, the colonel’s eyes lit up. ‘Is that so, indeed? I had wondered of whom Darcy spoke on the journey hither. Ah, in that case Bingley is very much indebted to him.’
Darcy Steps In Page 4
