Mr. Darcy groaned internally as she moved directly to his side. She was shrouded in a noisy and stiff, mustard-colored, silk gown. Her red hair, clashing hideously with the color of the gown, was swept up into a pretentious knot at the side of her head. The top of her head held a matching turban adorned with a full six inches of brown feathers. As she swept closer, Darcy held his breath in anticipation as her fragrance wafted towards him a moment before impact. He quickly pulled his coffee up to his face, this time to block the assault of her nauseating perfume. Miss Bingley prided herself in the unique mixture of rose and musk toilette water that she used. She did not know, however, that when combined with the natural moisture of her skin, the two scents created an aroma somewhere between vinegar with eggs and decaying flowers.
Upon reaching Darcy, Miss Bingley laced one of her cold, clammy hands through his arm with a proprietary air as she looked up to him and spewed, “Oh, my dear, Mr. Darcy! How worried we all were when we learned you had not returned from your ride in time for breakfast. It was not very gentlemanly of you to cause us such great concern.” With this, she swatted his arm delicately with the end of her folded brown fan, stirring the air ungraciously up to his nose and causing the feathers in her headpiece to flick him in the face.
With stiffness, Darcy turned and braced himself as he looked down at her. She smiled widely, and he noticed she had a bit of stewed tomato from her breakfast protruding from her tooth. He feigned a smile that looked more like a grimace and said, “My apologies, madam, I was detained.” He carefully detached his arm and walked towards the window in an attempt to find clean air to refill his lungs.
Bingley came to his rescue and began to explain the whole of the morning’s excitement responsible for his friend’s delay. With little grace, Miss Bingley’s cold tone betrayed her as she asked with the barest civility after the health of Miss Elizabeth. She was not happy to hear that the morning was spent with Eliza. She had just gotten rid of the chit who was now tromping across the countryside after her Mr. Darcy. Caroline wished she were a better walker and could find herself somewhere in need of Mr. Darcy’s assistance.
Her thoughts were interrupted as Darcy turned abruptly to Bingley and suggested they take the time before tea to look over some of the estate books. With his friend’s consent, Miss Bingley was forced to smile pleasantly and leave the gentlemen to their work as she exited the room in search of her sister.
* * *
Elizabeth paused as she considered what to say to Jane’s shocked outburst over the change in Mr. Darcy. She had no real answer to give except that he, indeed, had appeared different that day. She reflected that, in all the weeks she had known the gentleman, he had never before spoken as many words to her in all of their previous encounters combined. She also briefly considered how this new, open, charming and kind Darcy was affecting her equilibrium. This was the first time she had entertained positive thoughts about him. She had always considered the man attractive, a fact that only served to pour salt into her wounded pride whenever she was reminded of his most public denouncing of her physical attributes at the assembly. This offence had only served to keep her distaste for him in the forefront. The more times she met with him, the more she found him proud and arrogant. She questioned whether, had he not vocally debased her beauty, she would have tried so hard not to be affected by his by thinking ill of him whenever possible. She saw, that morning, moments of shyness and anxiety that had looked very much like the pride and conceit she had witnessed previously, and wondered whether she had not judged him wrongly.
Smiling at Jane, she decided she could not really change her mind about the man after just one pleasant morning. She also could not tell Jane about necessary (and accidental) embraces, the ride together or the fluttering in her breast she felt even now because she did not know yet what they meant to her. She determined to think no more of it until she could retire to bed and be alone with her thoughts.
Laughingly, she said, “I do not know, Jane. He was quite different, was he not? Perhaps it was the anxiety of it all.” With that, she shook off the subject as if nothing.
Jane had her suspicions that Mr. Darcy favored her sister because his eyes were so often on her. She believed this change was nothing more than his weakening resolve to hide his feelings for Lizzy. She also knew her sister held her thoughts to herself quite often, especially whenever she was unsure of her feelings. If she had been decided in one way or another, she would have voiced her feelings without hesitation. Recognizing this, Jane decided a change of subject would be welcome. Sitting down in Mr. Darcy’s vacated chair near the sofa, she remembered something her father had said when the family breakfasted earlier.
“Oh, Lizzy, while you were out, Papa had the most surprising news for us.”
“And what was it, Jane?” Elizabeth was thankful for the new topic and also amused at the strange, humorous glint in Jane’s eye.
“It seems we are to have a visitor to arrive this very day!” The mock excitement in Jane’s voice alerted Lizzy that the best of the story was yet to come. But before Jane could continue, Mr. Bennet returned to the room and, after bestowing a loving kiss on Lizzy’s cheek, sat down near his two favorite daughters and prompted Jane to continue. “It is our long-lost cousin. He is Mr. Collins from Hunsford in Kent. He is a parson, and he is the man to inherit Longbourn when Papa goes.” Jane reached over and patted her father’s hand lovingly before continuing, acquainting Lizzy with the particulars of their visitor’s situation, his patronage of an illustrious Lady Catherine de Bourgh and his wish to reconcile with the family. Lizzy looked towards her father and saw him pursing his lips in humor during Jane’s account.
“He sounds like a peculiar type of man. Do you think he is sensible, Papa?” Elizabeth asked.
“Oh, no, my dear! I am greatly anticipating that he is quite the opposite,” he replied with a chuckle that was soon joined by his two daughters.
* * *
The remainder of the morning and afternoon was spent conversing comfortably between the sisters as Mr. Bennet returned to his library. Occasionally, one of the other sisters would flit in and out, but for most of the day, Lizzy was left to the enjoyable company of her favorite sister. They had tea and relished in the rare treat of getting to eat and talk sensibly without the wild emotional eruptions of their mother and younger sisters. However, the peaceful afternoon could not go on forever, and when Mrs. Bennet finally had finished her preparations for their soon-to-be-arriving visitor, she came into the room to see to her least favorite daughter and hopefully gain information about what really happened with Mr. Darcy.
“Lizzy, dear, you must tell me what happened this morning.” Her mother’s abrupt manner immediately put Elizabeth on her guard. She knew she would need to put an end to her mother’s imagination if she were ever to have any rest over the situation. Mrs. Bennet did not need one more gentleman to gush over in her attempts at matchmaking. Certainly, Mr. Darcy would thank her for tempering her mother’s wild presumptions.
“It is as you know, Mama. I was out walking, and I was near that forest by Mr. Gilmore’s property when one of the old oak trees broke in the wind. I was startled, and I fell and injured my ankle.” Elizabeth avoided mentioning the gentleman on purpose. If she was going to convince her mother, she needed to make the entire situation seem unimportant — a task made more difficult than she anticipated as she was forced to detach the feelings that were beginning to associate themselves with her memories of the events.
“Yes, yes, I know that, Lizzy. But what about Mr. Darcy?” screeched Mrs. Bennet.
“Oh, no, Mama, you are mistaken. Mr. Darcy did not fall; he was not even near the tree at all!” Elizabeth knew her teasing would infuriate her mother, but she could not help herself.
“Oh, ungrateful child! You know what I mean! What happened with Mr. Darcy? Were you walking together? Did you meet on purpose?” Her mother’s presumptions were getting to dangerous levels, and her voice kept increasing with excitement.
Elizabeth knew she needed to stop her and so, with a grave voice, dropped all joking and responded, “Mama, you know Mr. Darcy does not like me. Of course we did not meet on purpose. He was out riding and happened upon me after my fall. He did only what any gentleman would do.” Here Elizabeth had to pause and try to find words that would be truthful but not lead her mother on. “In fact, he was quite uncomfortable being alone with me.” There, that should quiet her! And it was true; he had been adorably nervous.
Mrs. Bennet was clearly disappointed but not yet resigned to give up an eligible match for any of her daughters, and she thought a bit on it. Elizabeth tried to invent some kind of stratagem to cause her mother to erase completely the idea of a match between the two of them. Suddenly, a brilliant idea came to her, and she schooled her features to hide her mischief and spoke conspiratorially to her mother.
“Mama, it has just occurred to me that, as Mr. Darcy is the particular friend of Mr. Bingley, we would not want to upset him, right?”
“Well, of course not! Heavens, child! Why would you think of upsetting Mr. Darcy?” chastised her mother.
“Well it is just that we know he does not find me handsome. Would it not upset him to have a match with me be presumed upon? And if he is made to be upset, could he not persuade his particular friend to give his attentions to another in the neighborhood instead of Jane?” Elizabeth knew she should stop here but could not help herself. “And Mr. Bingley did dance first with Charlotte Lucas at the assembly before he danced with Jane.”
Mrs. Bennet was struck still at the thought of losing a most advantageous match between Jane and Mr. Bingley, especially at the thought of forfeiting him to Lady Lucas’s plain, spinster daughter. No, it would not be wise to upset Mr. Darcy. She thought that, if Elizabeth were right and the man was not interested in her, pushing him on the subject would not be a good idea. If it were not for his ten thousand a year, she would not even care about the fellow. She determined then that, if he were not to marry one of her daughters, she would continue as she did before and hate the man.
Elizabeth could see that her statements were working. She thought about the previous times her mother had been in contact with Mr. Darcy and realized that her mother had disliked Darcy ever since the Meryton assembly. She really was barely civil to him and quite nearly rude on some occasions. She decided to risk her newly won success by adding, “Mama, I think we should treat Mr. Darcy with all the civility we can, as it would please Mr. Bingley to see his friend so welcome. I know you do not like him, but you are such a good hostess that I am sure you could hide your contempt whenever he were to visit, could you not?”
Mrs. Bennet, not being a particularly intelligent person, was always mollified and convinced by a well-placed compliment and therefore was again persuaded by her daughter to rethink her behavior around Mr. Darcy, if only for the benefit of his friend.
* * *
The Bennet family gathered in the morning room to accommodate Elizabeth in preparation for the arrival of their much-anticipated guest and estranged cousin, Mr. Collins. Looking around the room, Elizabeth smiled to herself at the differing feelings on the event displayed so openly by the members of her family. Her mother was agitated, slightly vexed at having to host the man who was no doubt coming to appraise his future property and making plans to evict them all before her husband was cold in his grave. She did not believe for a moment that he could find any way to reconcile the impossible nature of the entail. Elizabeth turned her gaze towards Lydia and Kitty, who were redecorating a new bonnet and arguing over which ribbon to use, obviously uninterested in the arrival of their cousin.
Jane was serene as always, and Elizabeth could tell she was inclined already to like the man as she never seemed capable of finding fault in anyone. She sat, contented, with an embroidery sampler, waiting patiently. Mary was dutifully reading her favorite book of sermons and uncharacteristically fidgeting with her dress. Elizabeth paused a moment to consider this strange behavior in her younger sister. Mary never cared about her appearance and usually ignored any guests with a distinct preference for her books. It was not as if she was showing eager anticipation for their cousin to arrive, but Elizabeth could tell that she had a shade of nervous excitement about her.
Lastly, Elizabeth turned her gaze to her father, who was reclining lazily in his chair with the newspaper held up to his face. As if detecting her perusal, he lowered his newspaper at the corner and winked.
When their guest’s carriage could be heard on the gravel drive, Mr. Bennet stood to walk out and welcome him, as the ladies sat up properly in anticipation of their greeting. Within a few minutes, they could hear their father’s voice in the entryway with another male voice, and a few minutes more brought the sound of the men’s boots coming towards the morning room.
Mr. Bennet stepped into the room with Mr. Collins and began the introductions. Elizabeth immediately scrutinized her new cousin. He was not a handsome man. He wore his flat brown hair a little long on the side in an attempt to disguise his loss of hair by brushing it across his forehead. She noticed he had rounded cheeks and a flap of skin that dangled under a weak chin every time he bobbed his head. Mr. Collins looked gravely solemn in his ridiculous all-black parson’s suit, which appeared to be a bit small, especially around his midsection where the buttons and stitches whined with his every move. Elizabeth smiled to herself in anticipation of the great amusement she expected to have from watching such a character as her cousin.
Mr. Bennet presented his wife, who curtsied briefly with a stoic expression on her face as Mr. Collins gave an overly low bow, causing his waistcoat buttons to protest. Her father then began to introduce his daughters in order of age. When Mr. Collins fixed his eyes upon Jane, his hand brought a soiled handkerchief out of his pocket to dab at the sweat on his brow, and then held it to his chest over his heart as he smiled greasily to her and bent for another low bow. Jane politely curtsied, and Mr. Bennet moved towards Elizabeth.
“You will excuse my second eldest daughter, Elizabeth, if she does not rise. She has only lately sprained her ankle and cannot stand at the moment,” Mr. Bennet explained.
Mr. Collins bobbed his head in understanding, causing his neck flap to dance wildly and bowed again. With every bow, Elizabeth held her breath with amusement — and a small amount of fear that his clothing would actually lose a button in the process. Mr. Bennet then proceeded to introduce Mary, Kitty and Lydia. The first smiled calmly at her cousin, and the last two gave obligatory curtsies and whispered to each other while stifling laughs. When Mr. Collins bowed lastly to the youngest girls, a soft, gaseous noise erupted from him and he straightened quickly, coloring bright red, while Lydia and Kitty burst loudly with laughter. Covering her own incredulous smirk, Lizzy quickly chastised her younger sisters.
As soon as the room recovered its reserve, Mr. Collins opened his mouth to speak for the first time beyond the small greeting he had given each cousin upon introduction. He had a nasally voice that clashed with the serious expression on his face. “My dear, dear cousins. It is an honor finally to meet you all. Your reputed beauty and grace have gone before you, and I assure you, they have most grievously done you a disservice.” At this, Mrs. Bennet huffed, and Mr. Collins rushed to add, “That is, to say, your beauty has far surpassed the report, and I am indeed honored, deeply honored, to make your acquaintance. I am also blessed to bring you the condescension and greetings of my most noble and gracious benefactor, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.” Here their cousin paused for dramatic effect, and when nobody seemed moved, continued, “Lady Catherine, if you do not know, is the owner of the great estate, Rosings Park, to which my own humble parsonage is attached. I am most fortunate in my patronage and have come to your home with her permission and condescension.” After this, he began to bow again, but thinking better of it, just smiled at the room.
“Mr. Collins, we are, indeed, truly in debt to Lady Catherine for condescending to spare you for a time to visit our humble home.” Mr. B
ennet spoke with mock gravity, causing his second eldest daughter to shoot him a censuring look before speaking to her cousin herself.
“Indeed, Cousin, we are happy to make your acquaintance.” Mr. Collins nodded and made his way to Jane and Mrs. Bennet for conversation. Elizabeth watched Mary attempting to divert Mr. Collins’s attention by asking whether he had read the particular book of sermons that she was reading and what his opinion of it was. She mused at the sight as she had never seen Mary take an interest in a guest before. Soon after, the dinner bell was rung, preventing his response.
Everyone exited towards the dining room. Elizabeth was helped to her feet by Jane and was pleased to see that, after resting her foot all day, she could almost put her weight on it. With Jane’s assistance, she joined the family in the dining room, biting her lip in anticipation of more entertainment from her new cousin.
* * *
After the excitement of the day, Elizabeth found that she desired to retire early because of mounting fatigue and a heavy mind. She and Jane, who would be assisting her, made their excuses before Mr. Collins began reading to the group, much to the dismay of her youngest sisters and the delight of Mary. Upon their exiting the room, Mr. Bennet gave his oldest daughters a look of abandonment.
After readying herself for bed, Elizabeth sat at her dressing table and combed out her long curls. She smiled softly as she remembered sitting in the same place that morning, anticipating her walk. She had thought about Mr. Darcy then, and once again thoughts of the strange man came back to her as she plaited her hair in preparation for bed. He had been so kind and solicitous towards her comfort. She remembered, as a shiver stole through her, how his voice was low and husky with worry when he had hastily embraced her. She was certain that he was very concerned for her, but she could not understand why he would be so moved as to hold her to his chest. It was as if he was deeply grieved by the thought that I was seriously injured. It was this topic that Elizabeth found most troubling. She was not a close relation to him — indeed, not even a close friend. She determined that Mr. Darcy must be a man of great feeling. That he was a man of action she knew before, but she had not anticipated that he would combine the two so passionately.
Falling for Mr. Darcy Page 5
