by Emma Crawley
Charlotte nodded. “Perhaps you are right. Lady Catherine is well known for only seeing what she wishes to see. I cannot blame two young men for wishing to return to London. But, either way, the result is the same. We are to dine with Lady Catherine this evening. I am glad you are feeling better, my dear. I do not know what excuse I could have provided to satisfy her if you were ill a second time.”
I smiled, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. I felt livelier than I had done since yesterday when Colonel Fitzwilliam told me of Mr Darcy’s role in separating Jane from Mr Bingley.
“I feel better than I have done in days. I shall certainly be there. I have missed the lady’s impressive speeches. It has been a trial to be without her guidance.” I shot Charlotte a mischievous grin that I quickly smothered with a cough when Mr Collins burst into the room to inform us Miss Anne de Bourgh and Lady Catherine had just passed by in her carriage. We arranged our expressions to look impressed and, pleased with the effect his news had on us, he hurried away with a promise he would wait by the gate in case they passed by again and required his assistance. After he left, I looked at Charlotte in wonder. How she could endure such a husband and remain cheerful was remarkable. But she had chosen her situation with her eyes open and was not to be pitied.
We spent the rest of the morning in Hunsford village where I assisted Charlotte in visiting the poor. Most of them appeared apprehensive as they opened their doors slowly. Their visible relief when they saw Charlotte made me suspect Lady Catherine and Mr Collins were dreaded visitors. I could well imagine Lady Catherine bursting into their homes to scold them out of their poverty or Mr Collins offering them condescending advice that would do more to insult than to comfort. Charlotte was probably the best thing that had ever happened to the village. I watched in admiration as she dealt out bread and chatted with the women of the houses in an easy manner they would never have received from Lady Catherine. No wonder she could manage Mr Collins as her husband when she had so much here to occupy her and provide a challenge for her talents and her good sense. I was not sure I could have borne it so cheerfully if I were Mr Collins’s wife.
“We should return, Lizzy,” Charlotte murmured as we packed up her baskets in the last cottage. “Lady Catherine will expect us to be there in good time for dinner. What are you smiling about?”
“Nothing.” A sudden image of Mr Darcy presenting me to the lady as her future niece had flashed through my mind, and it was all I could do not to laugh out loud. How she would have raged to have such a low person marry into her family. How would Mr Darcy have managed her temper?
That thought checked my impulse at once. Any objections she would have to me were ones Mr Darcy heartily agreed with. She could not think less of me than her nephew already did. If she condemned me, if she insulted my family, Mr Darcy would have done little more than nod in agreement and mention some nonsense about his intense passion for me which she would no doubt have blamed me for as if I had set out to encourage them. How humiliating that would have been. My future husband apologising for his decision in choosing me and polluting the family with my low connections. There were not enough riches in the world that could have induced me to accept such a fate.
Mr Collins hurried down the path to meet us as soon as we turned onto the lane that brought Hunsford Lodge before us. I assumed he had more reports to delight us with about Lady Catherine’s movements, but the first words out of his mouth had nothing to do with her.
“My dear, you will not guess who was here most of the afternoon. Why did you not return sooner? You were required here.”
“Tom Anderson’s grandmother is ill. I wished to spend some time with her to ensure she was comfortable…” said Charlotte. Mr Collins waved away her words as if the plight of an elderly woman was of little consequence.
“Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived not long after you left. I was sure you would return soon, so they insisted on waiting. Colonel Fitzwilliam had a mind to walk out in search of you, but Mr Darcy declined for fear of missing you and insisted on waiting for you here until you returned. They had little to say, but I imagine they wished to pay their regards before leaving. Is that not condescending of them? I am sure they would have much preferred to spend their precious few remaining hours with Lady Catherine. But instead, they waited here for you. I am most distressed you were not here to greet them…”
As Charlotte once again gently pointed out the absurdity of expecting us to know the gentlemen would call, I struggled to hide my relief. If we had returned sooner, I would have had to come face to face with Mr Darcy. Why had he stayed so long? Surely he could not wish to speak with me again? Not if he was so determined on not seeing me that he planned to leave Kent that day. The only solution I could settle on was that he wished to learn about my thoughts on his letter. Perhaps he could not bear the idea that I thought ill of him and wished to know if the letter had softened my regard.
I drew a deep breath. Thank God Mr Darcy was likely to be halfway to London by now. Fortune was on my side. I was unlikely to see him again. I was sorry for whatever pain he felt, but I could regret nothing that had happened. I need concern myself for nothing more than enduring Lady Catherine’s company that night.
Despite my fears, I spent the rest of the day worrying that Mr Darcy might not have left Kent after all. Perhaps he might return, feeling sure I would be home by now.
No. I shook my head. Mr Darcy was a vain, proud man, but even he would not like to appear so ridiculous as to wait for the same lady twice in one day, especially when that lady had rejected him. I worried for nothing.
I turned back to my closet, complete with the fitted shelves that were Mr Collins’s pride and joy and chose my gown for the evening. As I did so, my eyes lingered on the gown I had worn the night before when Mr Darcy had asked for my hand in marriage. I shuddered. I did not think I would ever want to see anything that reminded me of that dreadful moment again.
My mind at once drifted back to the letter. I almost turned to read it one final time, promising myself I would burn it afterwards. But I paused and stopped myself. No, the best thing I could do for myself right now was to put Mr Darcy and his letter entirely out of my mind. With this resolution in mind, I turned back to the closet and selected a gown that would satisfy Lady Catherine’s notions of preserving the ranks.
3
We were shown into the drawing-room as soon as we arrived. Lady Catherine greeted us with a smile of such pleasure I was taken aback. What happened to the bereft lady who was so dismayed by her nephews’ departure? Perhaps it was my fancy, but I thought her smile looked oddly — triumphant. I dropped a curtsey and tried not to appear too wary as she greeted us and told us how glad she wants to see us.
“You will wonder at my cheerfulness, Mrs Collins,” she said. “When I sent you my note, I was downcast at the thought of my nephews’ returning to London sooner than I expected. So, imagine my surprise and delight when Darcy informed me they have extended their stay at Rosings for another day or two. Ah…” She smiled with a significant look at her daughter. “Darcy’s attachment to Rosing certainly increases year after year, does it not, my dear?”
Anne de Bourgh gave her mother a coy smile, but I stood rooted to the spot in horror. Did she… What this true..? Mr Darcy had extended his stay..? No, this could not be. Surely, Lady Catherine was mistaken…
“Mr and Mrs Collins, Miss Bennet and Miss Lucas. How wonderful to see you all here,” said a familiar voice behind me.
I turned to see Colonel Fitzwilliam standing in the doorway. His usual cheerful smile was missing, and instead, he frowned slightly as if something troubled him. His eyes lingered on me. I had a terrible feeling he knew what had passed between Mr Darcy and me.
My eyes went past Colonel Fitzwilliam as the gentleman himself appeared in the doorway. He bowed and straightened up without saying a word. As was usual, his eyes went to me, and he regarded me gravely. I recalled how I had noticed his eyes always seem to fix on me before. I r
emembered how irritated I have been by it. I could not understand why he looked at me so often. I had always assumed it was because something about my appearance caused him disapproval, and I always decided that I did not care enough about him to care about his dissatisfaction. What a fool I had been. How many times had he smiled at me, even as I joked to others that nothing seemed to please him and that he never seemed to smile? All the signs were there before me, and I have been utterly blind to them because I could think of nothing else except how much I disliked this man. I had been blinded in more ways than one.
My heart pounded as we took our seats around the dinner table. As usual, Lady Catherine dominated the conversation. I tried to pay attention and nod and looked impressed as she boasted of finding her housekeeper’s niece an excellent position with a prominent London family. The family, for all their importance, had nothing to do but write endless letters to Lady Catherine to thank her for finding them such a treasure. As she scanned the table, I made sure I looked impressed though I could hardly hear a word she said., I was always prepared to join in and offer my opinions when there was such an opening, much to Lady Catherine’s disapproval.
But tonight, I could not. Mr Darcy sat across from me and was as grave and silent as I was, though in his case, it was no significant change from his usual demeanour. My mind spun, and I could think of nothing else but why he was here. Panic seized me that he wished to renew his proposal. Perhaps he thought his letter sufficient explanation and enough to change my mind and my heart about him.
No, surely he would not? Even a man as arrogant as he would not renew his addresses to a woman who rejected him as harshly as I refused him yesterday. Surely his pride would prevent it? But then why was he still here?
“You are very dull this evening, Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” said Lady Catherine from the head of the table. “I would have thought you would have much to say after your absence yesterday.”
I tried to hide a smile as I turned to address the lady. She expected me to apologise for committing the crime of not attending her tea the night before.
“Forgive me, Lady Catherine. I am rather tired.”
Lady Catherine looked as though she searched for some complaint to make, but could find none. Instead, her attention turned to her nephew.
“And you, Darcy. I should have thought you would be in much better spirits now knowing you will stay at Rosings a few days more. Are you still in such misery at the thought of leaving?”
Mr Darcy roused himself as if he had been miles away, lost in his thoughts.
“Not at all, Lady Catherine. I am eager to return to London to see my sister. I am afraid I too am rather tired.”
Lady Catherine threw her hands up as if bewildered by us.
“I do not know what is happening in Kent today. It seems no one could sleep last night.”
I could not resist raising my eyes to meet Mr Darcy’s. His glance also flickered in my direction, and though he looked away, it was less an embarrassed look rather than that of a man who was troubled by something. I recalled what Charlotte had said that she thought he might have received some bad news. Perhaps he had? Maybe it was my vanity alone that led me to believe he looked distraught merely because I had refused him. Suppose he had received word from London that something had happened his sister, Georgiana? After her ordeal the previous summer, I would not at all be surprised if Mr Darcy worried about her excessively.
I turned away from Mr Darcy and instead found myself looking at Colonel Fitzwilliam. I gave him a slight smile and expected him to return it. To my surprise, he looked as grave and concerned as Mr Darcy. I dropped my eyes to my plate, feeling more and more troubled. I longed for the evening to end. The sooner these gentlemen left for London and the sooner I never had to see them again, the happier I would be.
A movement at my arm caught my attention. I sat back in my chair to allow the footman to set a new dish beside me. I glanced up to thank him but paused when I realised that he was staring at me with a curious smile about his lips.
“Thank you,” I said with a frown to convey my disapproval. He coloured and quickly stepped back, casting a glance at Lady Catherine for fear she had noticed his behaviour. He removed himself to the sideboard, and I promptly forgot about him.
Unfortunately, Lady Catherine did not seem inclined to lose her company early that evening. I cherished some small hope that the company of her nephews would render ours obsolete and she would find some excuse to send us home after dinner.
But, it was not to be. Instead, Lady Catherine, on retiring to the drawing-room, requested that I perform for them at the pianoforte. I rose at once, keen to be away from the rest of the room and in particular apart from Mr Darcy. I tried not to hurry as I went toward the window and sat at the pianoforte and played some songs I knew were favourites at Rosings. My focus on the music allowed me some relief from worrying about Mr Darcy’s presence and why he appeared so agitated.
A movement at my shoulder alerted me that I was no longer alone. I looked up, and to my dismay, I saw Mr Darcy had moved to join me. I was so startled by his presence, I missed a few notes that echoed painfully across the room. I turned back to the pianoforte, hoping it would signal to Mr Darcy I did not desire his company.
Mr Darcy stood at my side with his eyes fixed on me. I kept my eyes on the instrument, hoping it would discourage him from staying. I fancied that Mr Darcy wished to speak with me on some topic. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him open his mouth as if he were trying to summon the courage to speak. I would not look at him to encourage him. He drummed his fingers on the top of the instrument. There was something urgent about the way he looked at me. I glanced across the room at Charlotte and Mr Collins hoping for some signs they were preparing to leave. But of course, they were not. Mr Collins was seated at Lady Catherine’s side gazing up at her and listening to her advice as though there was no one else in the world. But the lady must have felt my eyes on her. She glanced across the room, and when she saw Darcy beside me, she rose at once.
“Darcy, I believe Anne would like to show you her embroidery.”
“Her embroidery?”
I smiled to myself as I heard the confusion in Mr Darcy’s voice.
“Yes, her embroidery. It is an image of Pemberley, and she is most keen for you to see it.”
I glanced up at Mr Darcy to see him look from Lady Catherine and back to me.
Without saying a word, he strode across the room to join his cousin. Lady Catherine remained where she was for another moment before she took her seat. I heaved a sigh of relief. Who would have ever thought the day would come when I would feel grateful for Lady Catherine’s interference?
The evening never felt longer. Finally, Lady Catherine offered us her carriage to return us to Hunsford Lodge. I rose before anyone else even had time to register her remark. Charlotte looked at me with some surprise and stood up to join me. Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam rose from their chairs likewise. I turned away but could not resist glancing behind me. Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were having some urgent conversation away from the group. Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed to be trying to persuade Mr Darcy to do something, and Mr Darcy was shaking his head. I had a sinking feeling the colonel was urging Mr Darcy to speak to me again. I could only pray that the gentleman would have more pride than to address himself to me once more.
As I walked out the passage towards the main door, two young maids walked by me. One of them started when her eyes met mine. She nudged the other, and they both turned to look at me. They whispered together, and one of them giggled. I was perplexed by their behaviour, but as I noticed Mr Darcy coming towards the passage, I was too impatient to get away from him to wonder too much about it.
I hurried down the steps, but because I had been in such haste to get away, the carriage had not yet arrived. I cursed at my stupidity. Lady Catherine had barely had time to send word to the stables to let them know to bring the carriage around for us. It would be far faster for me to walk t
o Hunsford Lodge, but I knew if I insisted upon it, I would only arouse suspicion considering that the sky was already dark. Instead, I stood as close to Charlotte as possible, knowing Mr Darcy would dare not approach me if I were not alone. Charlotte looked at me with concern.
“Are you sure you are well? I do not think you have recovered from your headache, my dear. You look rather pale.”
I shook my head. “It was just as I said to Lady Catherine. I am tired. A good night’s sleep will see me right again.” I looked across the sweep toward the stables, barely preventing myself from bobbing up and down on my toes like a child. “It is why I am so impatient to be home.”
Charlotte sighed and nodded. “I am scarcely less eager myself. That felt like a long night.”
I heard a rumbling come around the corner and straightened up, looking in the direction eagerly. “I think our wait might be over. I am certain that is the carriage now.”
To my joy, I saw the vehicle come into view. Charlotte had walked away from me to say something to her husband, and I hurried down steps towards the carriage. I had moved around the corner out of sight of the main door when someone caught my hand. I cried out in alarm and turned around to see Mr Darcy. He released to me at once, though his face was stricken.
“Miss Bennet, I must speak with you. It is of the utmost importance…”
“Good evening, Mr Darcy,” I said loudly enough to attract Charlotte and Mr Collins’s attention. I dropped him a brief curtsey and hurried away from him as the carriage drew to a stop. As I hastened by, Colonel Fitzwilliam approached me.
“Miss Bennet, I am afraid we must…”
“Good evening, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” I said, stepping to one side around him. The carriage door was barely opened when I jumped inside. Charlotte climbed in after me, followed by Mr Collins and Maria Lucas. As the carriage pulled away, I could scarcely suppress a sigh of relief. I felt Charlotte’s eyes on me as Mr Collins and Maria talked cheerfully about the pleasures of the evening.
