by P. O. Dixon
Darcy had another purpose for that morning as well—one that had nothing to do with riding. He meant to surprise Elizabeth with a light repast. He chose a lovely spot near the outskirts of Netherfield Park, ideally suited to his purposes. Wanting to assure their privacy, he had his man, Waters, oversee all the preparations and involve as few of the Netherfield servants as possible. Waters and the servants were gone by the time Darcy and Elizabeth arrived. It was solely the two of them.
Elizabeth was not immune to the compliment her intended had paid her in arranging such an outing. “It’s lovely, sir,” said she, a little relieved that her feet were once again on the ground. She smiled up at Mr. Darcy. “Thank you for going to such lengths this morning on my behalf.”
“It is my pleasure.” He extended his arm to her. “May I?”
Elizabeth accepted his arm and commenced walking with him. Her stomach’s rumbling told her that she was hungrier than she imagined she would be. There was little wonder. The day before had been marked by such turmoil that she had done little more than push her food around on her plate. The last time she had come close to nourishing herself properly had been interrupted by Mr. Collins’s proposal.
The thought of being married to such a ridiculous man as that was enough to turn her stomach; hence, she decided to put all thoughts of the silly man out of her mind. Now and again, she couldn’t help wondering how he would bear the news that she was promised to Mr. Darcy. Having gained Jane’s word that she would not entertain, even for a second, a retaliatory proposal of marriage from Mr. Collins, Elizabeth was quite content to remain where she was—in that idyllic spot by Mr. Darcy’s side—for the better part of the day. If she were lucky, her cousin would be nowhere to be found by the time she returned to Longbourn.
After partaking of the little feast spread out before them, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy began to talk of many of those things that two young people wanting to get to know each other better must surely discuss.
“You have met most of my family, sir. However, I have yet to meet any of yours. Miss Bingley has sung your sister’s praises so often I feel I know her already. However, I do look forward to making her acquaintance.”
“Miss Bingley would have you believe that a great deal of affection exists between my sister and herself. However, I assure you that nothing could be farther from the truth. That being said, Georgiana looks forward to meeting you as well.”
“She does? On what basis, if I may ask? Surely you have had no time to inform her of our engagement. Although I suppose you might have written a letter to her and had it delivered by express. I do not imagine there has been a sufficient passage of time to allow for a reply.”
He smiled sheepishly. “I wrote to my sister telling her about you weeks ago.”
“Oh? Allow me to guess what you said.”
Darcy said nothing, which encouraged Elizabeth to speak with impunity. Her spirits rising to playfulness, her voice heavy with a measure of prudishness, she said, “There is an impertinent country lass who has thrown herself into our party who simply will not go away.” She looked at him pointedly. “What say you, sir? Have I managed to capture the essence of your missive to Miss Darcy?”
Her teasing manner had a way of lowering his usual reserve. He really liked that about her. Her smile persuaded him that he was in no danger, and thus he responded to her in kind. “I would say you’ve managed very well.”
“Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth cried, feigning outrage.
He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. “Surely you know I am speaking in jest. In truth, I only told my sister those things about you that would give a favorable impression of your character—your kindness to your eldest sister, your fondness for walking, and your wont to outwit Miss Bingley at every turn.”
“This is high praise indeed, and, if I might say, entirely unexpected.”
“Unexpected?”
“Indeed, sir. I always supposed you barely tolerated me.”
Here, Darcy felt his color rising, and he began to wonder if Elizabeth had overheard his unflattering remark to his friend Bingley at the Meryton assembly about her not being quite handsome enough to tempt him. What better time than that moment to amend any damage his carelessly spoken words may have inflicted? “Miss Elizabeth, I would ask that you disregard anything you may have heard that would cause you to think that way and consider these words instead….” His voice tender, he said, “It was not long after we first met that I began to consider you the handsomest woman of my acquaintance.”
Wholly unprepared for the bewildering emotions his words invoked, Elizabeth sought to change the subject. “Pray tell me more about your family. My cousin, Mr. Collins, has taken a great deal of pleasure in regaling us with stories of your aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s benevolence. Pray how does her legend meet with actuality? Is she the most divine being ever to grace this earth as my cousin espouses?”
“I believe my aunt will testify that your cousin’s assertions are exceedingly understated. She is very proud of herself and she is not one to countenance dissenting opinions. She likes to have her own way in every aspect of life.”
“Oh, dear! How do you suppose she will react once she learns that you are engaged to be married?”
“I have reason to suspect that she will suffer the news poorly. However, let us not concern ourselves with my aunt at this time. I had much rather discuss those matters pertaining solely to the two of us.”
“I am afraid, sir, that I will not be so easily dissuaded as that. Surely if your relations do not embrace our union, I ought to know.”
“Miss Elizabeth, would knowing such a thing in any way affect your decision to marry me?”
“No.”
“I knew you would not let the opinions of others influence you. You and I are so much alike in that respect. What do I care if her ladyship does not embrace our union? Her feelings are inconsequential. Should you be concerned that upon making her acquaintance she might say or do anything to injure you, do not be. Although I have no doubt of your ability to stand up for yourself against the likes of my aunt, you must always remember that I am your protector.”
At first, Elizabeth thought she imagined the tiny, moist prickles on her skin. I do not think I have enjoyed such tranquility in Mr. Darcy’s company ever before. Pray our outing will last a good while longer.
The tingling drops grew too impatient to be ignored and before Elizabeth knew what she was about, Darcy seized her by the hand. The two of them raced over to a heavily wooded area in search of shelter from the pounding rain.
They settled underneath a large tree. Her muslin gown and spencer now thoroughly soaked, she wrapped her arms around herself. She was shivering. Darcy quickly removed his great coat and walked behind her. Draping his coat over her shoulders, he said, “Pray this will help keep you warm until the rain ceases. Then I shall see you back to Longbourn.”
“Won’t we be a sight when we return to Longbourn, both of us dripping wet?” Her voice now trembling from the damp clothing against her skin, she continued. “Pray this rain is not a precursor to a deluge similar to last week’s, for then there would be no telling how long we will remain here.”
“The Netherfield manor house is just beyond these trees. Unless you are in a rush to return to Longbourn, you and I might return to Netherfield instead, where we may both change clothing.”
“That is an excellent idea for you, but it hardly accommodates my needs, sir, unless you plan to lend me some of your attire.”
“I shall change and you shall have your privacy in another apartment while your things are drying by the fire if that meets with your approval.”
Elizabeth arched her brow. “I do not know that my reputation can afford such a prospect, sir,” she teased.
“The worst that might happen is that your father will hear about it and insist we marry sooner than planned. I am not entirely opposed to such a scheme.”
Indeed, the sooner they married, the sooner he would sp
irit Elizabeth away to Derbyshire—the sooner he would make her his in every way.
Chapter 7 – Must Now Reconsider
Mr. Collins, having petitioned for and received a private audience with Mr. Bennet, took a seat in the chair on the opposite side of the large, rather cluttered desk that he would one day call his own.
The thought that his future father-in-law might allow him to assume the role as head of Longbourn even prior to the former’s passing did cross his mind once or twice in the hours since he asked for Elizabeth’s hand. He did not wish to get too far ahead of himself. For the immediate future, he was more than happy to bring his bride to live with him in Hunsford. His position as Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s vicar afforded him status and connections the likes of which he was not eager to relinquish.
“I understand you wished to speak to me in privacy, sir,” said the older man, “the floor is all yours.”
The floor, the ceiling, the walls, the windows, all of this will be mine soon enough, the younger man thought but did not voice aloud. He had far more urgent matters to discuss. Clearing his throat, Mr. Collins said, “Sir, I could not help noticing that your second eldest daughter was nowhere to be found this morning. I sorely missed her presence at breakfast. Pray does she make a habit of going unaccounted for?”
Unwilling to answer the question directly, Mr. Bennet said, “Is there a particular reason for your interest in my second eldest daughter’s comings and goings?”
“Sir, you cannot possibly be a stranger to the fact that soon after my arrival, I singled your second eldest daughter—Cousin Elizabeth—out as the object of my most ardent fascination. Acting upon my profound admiration and esteem for your daughter, I offered her my hand in marriage and, in keeping with my character as a gentleman, I allowed her the additional time she requested before making me the happiest man in the world.”
Mr. Bennet sat back in his winged armchair and steepled his hands before his face. He said not a word.
“Surely Mrs. Bennet will have spoken to you about my plans for Cousin Elizabeth. Under any other circumstances, I would exercise more patience in awaiting my fair lady’s reply, but it appears my time here in Hertfordshire is drawing to a close. My noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, will want me to return to my duties as originally planned.”
“Mr. Collins, I am afraid you will not be pleased with what I am about to tell you. It has to do with my daughter. It seems that there has been a new development since the two of you spoke.”
The younger man’s expression bore out his concern. He tugged at his collar. “A new development,” he protested. “What manner of development?”
“Calm yourself, Mr. Collins. Is it not enough that you shall have all of this as soon as I am no longer of this earth? I have no say over any of that, nor do I have any say over whom my second eldest daughter chooses to marry. I will say, however, that had she chosen you, I would have been most seriously disappointed.”
“It is my turn to express my disappointment, sir, for it pains me to hear you speak this way. In such cases as this, you will be wise to put your daughter’s happiness above your own misguided interests.”
“I have no reason to suspect that my daughter will not be exceedingly happy as the wife of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
“Mr. Darcy?” Mr. Collins cried. “Surely you do not expect me to believe that the young gentleman, one who is looked up to as one of the most illustrious personages in this land and is blessed, in a peculiar way, with everything the heart of mortal can most desire—splendid property, noble kindred, and extensive patronage—has made Cousin Elizabeth an offer of marriage.”
“Believe what you will, sir. It in no way diminishes my joy for my daughter’s future prospects. A man such as you just described will be the means of securing every wish a father might have for a most beloved child.”
“For your sake as well as your daughter’s, I can only pray this is an attempt on your part to make light of the honor I have bestowed on both you and your daughters. Let me assure you that the gentleman’s aunt—my noble patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh—would not look on this so-called match with a friendly eye. Her ladyship would be most seriously displeased.”
“That will be her misfortune, indeed, but as the grand lady is so wholly unconnected to me and my family, I shall not give it a single care.”
By the look on Collins’s face, he likened Mr. Bennet’s words to blasphemy. “You ought to know, sir, I had planned to offer my hand in marriage to your eldest daughter, Miss Bennet, in the event Cousin Elizabeth’s stubbornness exceeded her good judgment. However, I must now reconsider. A man in my position would have to be a fool to act so injudiciously in aligning himself with a family who had placed themselves on the wrong side of Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s approbation.”
“I suppose that is our misfortune, for no one who has suffered the pleasure of your company would accuse you of being a fool.” Standing, Mr. Bennet continued, “I trust this conversation is over, sir, for I am much in need of the solace of my library.”
Mr. Collins, who thought of himself as one of the most decent and upstanding men he knew, had never been so offended in all his life. He had come all that way merely for the sake of extending an olive branch to the Bennets and this was his payment—to be mocked and ridiculed. Even worse, to be lied to!
What else could it be but a scandalous falsehood? The nephew of his noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, would never offend his aristocratic family and the world in general by entering into such an unequal alliance as Mr. Thomas Bennet had suggested.
Mr. Collins would not believe it. He could not believe it. He had seen no evidence that Mr. Darcy even knew his cousin Elizabeth, other than the fact that the two of them danced together at the Netherfield ball. Is that the basis for Mr. Bennet’s fabrication?
Collins’s vexation was palpable. Elizabeth was as good as promised to him. He had spent the entire evening planning how his future life would be. She promised she would give him a favorable reply after a fair amount of consideration.
Could that have been the reason for the clandestine looks between the father and daughter at dinner last night? Did they mean to embarrass me before the eyes of the world with such subterfuge?
His thoughts now tended to his situation in Kent. Her ladyship had told him to go forth and secure a wife, and he thought he had done it. Now what was he to do?
His hands clutched behind his back, Collins paced the floor. I strongly suspect that my crafty cousin merely meant to deceive me, but what if, on the off chance, his assertion that his daughter is to be married to Mr. Darcy has some basis in truth? This is information that Lady Catherine ought to know.
He walked straight over to the desk and retrieved his pen and paper. He read the beginnings of the letter to her ladyship—the one he had started just that morning announcing his great expectation for future marital felicity. He balled up the unfinished letter and tossed it aside. What a waste of a fine piece of paper, he thought. A part of him refused to believe what his cousin had said—Mr. Darcy of Pemberley and Derbyshire was to be married to a young woman with no fortune, no connections, and nothing to recommend her save a pretty face. How preposterous! Even if Mr. Bennet was lying—toying with him as a means of prolonging his suspense—it was too late. He would not offer for his cousin or any other Bennet daughter for that matter, even if they were the last single women in all of England.
Some time later, Mr. Collins folded and sealed his letter. Writing it was such a balm to his badly bruised feelings. He found he could not wait to send the missive on its way. Not willing to chance that someone in the Longbourn household might intercept it, he set off to post the letter himself.
He had not walked very far before he had the good fortune of meeting Miss Charlotte Lucas. The two of them had enjoyed such congenial intercourse at the Netherfield ball. He grinned. Now, there is a sensible woman if ever I saw one. He arched his crooked brow. If I am not mistaken, she is Cousin Elizabeth�
��s intimate friend. Mr. Collins knew in an instant how he needed to act.
Chapter 8 – In Suspense
Shortly afterward, Darcy and Elizabeth found themselves once again alone at Netherfield. Not wishing to alert any of the few household servants to Elizabeth’s presence, Darcy had spirited her upstairs undetected. He led her to his apartment only because he knew it was one of the few rooms that would have a proper fire, what with Bingley and all his relations being in town.
Still wearing Mr. Darcy’s greatcoat, Elizabeth stood at the fireplace warming her hands. As if mindful of propriety, Darcy remained standing by the half-opened door.
“I trust this room meets with your approval.”
“It does. Unless I am mistaken, this is your apartment, sir.”
“Indeed.”
“I hate to think I am inconveniencing you, sir.”
“No,” said he, shaking his head. “On the contrary, for my man is preparing another room for me as we speak.” The way he looked at her aroused a measure of nervous anticipation in Elizabeth.
At length, he said, “Should you need anything at all I shall be in the apartment adjoining this one.”
Darcy paused a second and then turned to take his leave.
“Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, halting him.
He did an about-face.
“Your coat,” she said, clutching its broad velvety lapels. The masculine scent of it comforted her as much as the fire did.
They met each other halfway. Elizabeth surrendered the garment. Folding it over his arm, Darcy prepared to quit the room. He made it as far as the door.
She quickly removed her damp spencer. She shivered. Her voice trembling, she said, “Sir—”
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said, turning to face her once more.
“I’m afraid I require a bit of assistance … my dress … the laces.”
Darcy closed the door and tossed his coat on the bed. “Of course. Allow me to be of service.”
