“Yes, but what if such a situation still arose.”
“I feel I must know more details. What is this behavior which she wishes to engage in? And why? And what is my basis for disapproval?”
“Oh. That matters not.” Elizabeth said frustrated, “Suppose you’d been wholly mistaken in her character when you married, and she wished to do something you thought immoral. What then would you do?”
Miss Bingley said from Elizabeth side, “Well that is a decidedly shocking question.”
The other two ignored her as Darcy gave Elizabeth a long knowing frown, which made her feel as though he could see through her. “I see,” Darcy said at last, “Mrs. Collins, any behavior which might force a really unwilling woman to do something is abhorrent to me. Further, I intensely dislike the many ways the laws of England allow husbands to harm their wives, and how there is no way for a woman to escape once married. I approve of little that the revolutionaries did in France, but we should adopt their divorce laws in England.”
While she still felt tense, Elizabeth looked at Darcy in pleased surprise, despite his cleverness many of his opinions were rather traditional.
Darcy colored slightly under the gaze of both ladies, and shifted uncomfortably, “I cannot detail particulars, but a girl whose family I’m acquainted with nearly married a fortune hunter. It made me think hard on the subject.”
Darcy leaned forward, “Thousands of girls. Every year thousands of girls marry vicious reprobate men who conceal their true character.” He gestured angrily, his face hard, “Once legally married, unless there is a settlement to protect her interests, the vile husband can take everything which is hers. And, since theft of her property was not enough, the law supports him when he chooses to beat her so long as he keeps his abuse ‘within reasonable bounds’. A married woman is not a child, but a rational creature like any other. The law should not strip her of her rights, and should let either party dissolve the bond.”
Elizabeth greatly approved of Darcy’s opinion, and said so in very warm terms. She enjoyed the way his countenance shifted as he accepted her praise.
Miss Bingley looked at Darcy with a combination of frustration, betrayal, and disappointment. “A husband who beat his wife — though I doubt such a shocking creature exists outside of the poorer classes — would be a poor husband indeed. Surely though you can see that a woman” — Miss Bingley looked at Elizabeth — “who intends to ignore his wishes whensoever she pleases would be an even worse wife. You could not wish to marry such a woman yourself.”
The implication of the speech offended Darcy. “I have no plans to marry at present,” he replied sharply, “but when I do marry, it certainly shall not be to a woman who attempts to attract a husband by pretending to agree with every opinion he offers, and who insults any unattached woman in his vicinity”
The three fell silent. Elizabeth could not avoid a stab of sympathy for the hurt look on Miss Bingley’s face. Darcy’s face was red, and his manner agitated. Before the silence had gone a full minute he stood, and bowed gruffly, “I recalled a matter I ought to speak to Bingley about.”
The two ladies watched Darcy’s tall form stride away; he was caught by Sir William Lucas, and listened to the words of the knight, gravely nodding when appropriate. Miss Bingley tightly gripped the fabric of her dress as she stared at him, and Elizabeth could see tears begin to gather in the edge of her eyes. “One of the flowers in your headdress has fallen out of place,” Elizabeth said abruptly, “You could refresh it in a room right out that door.”
Miss Bingley stared at Elizabeth, and said in a teary, high-pitched voice, “Thank you for telling me, I shall do so immediately.” She rose, walked to where her sister sat, pulled her up, and exited the door Elizabeth had pointed to.
Elizabeth slumped against the cushions. And the party had gone off so very well until this. Elizabeth felt tense and anxious. She wondered if Miss Bingley’s implication was correct, and Mr. Darcy had some interest in her. Elizabeth forced herself straight, and took a deep breath. She laughed, of course it was not true. The green eyed monster had whispered a ridiculous fantasy to Miss Bingley. Mr. Darcy was Elizabeth’s friend and nothing more.
Chapter 5
Darcy led his limping horse towards a well maintained two-story farmhouse with ivy growing over the walls. It had a large red brick barn. He was perhaps a third of a mile from Longbourn. Darcy had chosen to ride across a field without inspecting his path properly, and for his lack of care his horse had stepped into a gopher hole, and nearly thrown him.
While he had kept his saddle, the shock had twisted the horse’s leg. Darcy thought it was just a sprain, but he could not ride the horse further for fear of worsening her injury. A farmer whittled at a piece of wood on a bench in front of the house. He was a middle-aged man whose hair had begun to go gray, and he had the beefy appearance of a prosperous farmer.
Darcy called out to him, and the man started up, and put away his woodwork. He immediately saw the problem, “Let’s get ‘er into the barn, so we can properly take care of the poor girl.” The man shouted to his sons, “Robert, John — get out here and help me open up the barn for this gentleman’s horse.”
The two boys were youths, one about sixteen the other about thirteen. They both had a healthy active look, and hastened to open up the barn door, and prepare an empty stall with straw and hay before they crowded round to admire Darcy’s horse.
“My thanks,” Darcy said as he led his horse into the stall, and pulled off her saddle.
“She is a beauty of an animal,” the man replied. He then asked as Darcy felt along the leg to see how much swelling there was, “What happened?”
“Rabbit hole.”
The farmer nodded seriously, “Nasty pests. Eating roots, and getting into gardens, and leaving holes for horses to stumble in — say that don’t look so bad, I think she should be fine with a week’s rest.”
Darcy smiled slightly in agreement, as he finished his examination and went to sit on a bale of hay. Dim light filtered into the barn, bouncing off motes of dust, and Darcy was surrounded by the pungent, yet pleasant, smell of animals packed together for the winter in stalls that were regularly cleaned.
The farmer turned to his youngest son, “John, run on up to Longbourn, and tell them that — what was your name, sir?”
“Darcy.”
“Oh, yes. You are the friend of the young gentleman who took Netherfield on. Run up to Longbourn, and tell them Mr. Darcy’s horse has gone lame — have them send down Mr. Brown to give her a look and wrap up the leg.” He turned to Darcy apologetically, “unless you wish to wrap it up yourself, sir, or call your own groom to do so — while he hasn’t worked with such a fine animal as this, Mr. Brown is a wizard at keeping Mrs. Elizabeth’s animals healthy and productive.”
Darcy recalled the middle-aged man who took his horse when they called on Longbourn, and the well cared for look of Mrs. Collins’s stables. “I’m sure Mr. Brown will do an excellent job.”
The farmer’s young son, instead of immediately running off, continued admiring the horse, his father turned a stern look on him and shouted, “Go!”
Darcy smiled at the boy’s disappointed expression, and pulled a shilling out of his pocket to hand to him. “You will have plenty of opportunity to admire Brownie when you return.”
As the boy ran off Darcy saw a glint of amusement in the farmer’s eye, and responded to it, “My sister gave her the name; she was but eleven at the time.”
“It was kind of you to let her name the horse.”
The three sat in silence for a minute while the remaining son stroked the horse’s back. Sending for the stable master brought Darcy’s mind back to Mrs. Collins; she had clearly been unhappy during her marriage. Even a reminder made her tense and sad. How had she been mistreated by Mr. Collins? Darcy had hinted more closely about what happened to Georgiana than was prudent, but he had no regret. The look in Mrs. Collins’s eyes; he had needed to comfort her. He had needed to c
onvince her he at least would never behave in that manner.
Darcy also should not have snapped at Miss Bingley, but he was pleased that she had left him alone since the Longbourn party. Every time he thought about it Darcy felt angry again that she had seen Mrs. Collins’s distress only as an opportunity to score against her perceived rival. The character of Bingley’s sister was far poorer than he had realized before.
The farmer suddenly said, “I’ve not introduced myself, Robert Simpson at your service.”
“Fitzwilliam Darcy.” Darcy shook the man’s hand heartily, and asked, “Are you a tenant of Longbourn?” Darcy was desperately curious to know more of how Mrs. Collins was seen, and — if he were honest with himself — hoped to hear her praised.
“I am, though I also hold a small field which Mrs. Elizabeth sold to Mr. Goulding a year ago.”
“Have you been here long?”
“Aye, I was twenty and five when I first took the lease, that would have been, oh — some twenty years ago now, Mr. Bennet — that would be Mrs. Elizabeth’s father — had only held the estate for a few years at the time.” The farmer shook his head, “It astonishes how quickly time passes.”
Darcy nodded at the truism, he was young, but it still surprised him how it had already been a full five years since his father died and he became master of Pemberley. “How does Mrs. Collins differ from her father, or Mr. Collins?”
“In truth, it was a surprise. I don’t believe she was yet sixteen when Mr. Collins died, and she is a woman. I rather thought she would be very like her father, so long as nothing went awry, he was happy not to be bothered. And when something did go awry, he was not happy to be bothered. He was almost always resident, but still left most everything to the management of his steward. And Mr. Rowland — I daresay he was not the most active steward either. He did not enjoy it, not at all, when Mrs. Elizabeth demanded he show her every inch of the property, and go over every record book with her.”
Mr. Simpson shook his head with a smile, “I remember when she visited here, a little thing of just sixteen, and bold as you please she asked me question after question about everything I did. Dragged me around every corner of my fields, and demanded I justify each choice I’d ever made. The entire time Mr. Rowland stood as though he’d swallowed something unpleasant. I always thought, the only reason she never dismissed him, was because her father had promised him a pension, and she’d be damned if she paid him for doing even less work.”
Darcy smiled at the image this story conjured — it fit his picture of her character perfectly. The farmer laughed at his memories, “She is a good woman though — always polite and kind to her inferiors. She has been especially kind to my daughter, Mrs. Elizabeth bought her several books and a shawl last time she was in London. If a woman or a child is in trouble anywhere in the parish she will make sure their basic necessities are cared for, and they are put in the way of some employment.”
The farmer now gave a rueful smile, “As a landlord: she is very active — and not one of those foolish youngsters who think they know everything because they read a book on crop rotation once — she knows what the land is worth, and how to get the most out of it. This always turns to her benefit, but not always to mine. She’ll provide help to make sure we succeed. But, she knows exactly how much the land is worth.”
Darcy smiled broadly, “I daresay she gets the full value when leases are renegotiated.”
“That she does. That she does. I would have had the better of it, had Mr. Rowland negotiated it when I renewed my seven years lease — still, I cannot complain. She is fair, and she knows the value of an old tenant who understands the soil.”
There was a sound from the entryway to the barn, and the man Darcy recognized as Mrs. Collins’s stable master walked in, followed by the smiling Mrs. Collins herself. All of the men rose to greet her. Mrs. Collins looked around, while her eyes adjusted to the barn’s dim light. She wore a dark blue pelisse and gray gloves to ward off the early winter cold, and when she noted Darcy’s position her eyes lit up, and she gave him a bright smile which made Darcy’s nerves twist uncomfortably, before Mrs. Collins stepped closer and quietly said, “I’m very, very sorry to hear about your horse. You are entirely unharmed I hope?”
Darcy warmed at the concern in her wide eyes, and he hastened to reassure Mrs. Collins. She caught sight of the horse, “Oh! She is beautiful. I hope the injury is not serious?”
“I believe it will heal quickly,” Darcy replied as the stable master knelt and made soothing noises as he carefully felt at the area of swelling.
“That is good,” Mrs. Collins said as she walked forward with her gown billowing around her to stroke the forehead of the horse. Brownie appreciatively pushed her head into Mrs. Collins’s hand in Darcy smiled as he saw that his horse liked her. “What is her name?”
Darcy had a slight sense of embarrassment as Mr. Simpson grinned at his response, “Brownie. Georgiana named him.”
Mrs. Collins smiled, “I think it is a beautiful name for a beautiful horse.”
The stable master finished his examination, “I believe it is just a strain, if you keep her off her feet for a couple of days she should be fine. An excellent animal Mr. Darcy. My compliments — it may be best if I wrapped the leg up, and have her stay here for a few days. I will look in on her each morning and evening, and exercise the leg to keep it from stiffening.” He looked at the two boys who enthusiastically watched the horse, “I’m sure the Simpson boys will be happy to take good care of Brownie.”
Darcy gave the young men a serious look as they eagerly looked back at him, before he nodded, “That would be acceptable.”
As the boys cheered the stable master said roughly, “This is like to be the finest horse you two will ever lay hands on, you will act responsibly, keep the stall warm, clean, and well stocked — and you’ll not annoy or stress Brownie, or I swear I’ll have your father thrash you. Even you Bobby, sixteen though you may be.”
The way they vigorously nodded their heads made Darcy smile as Mrs. Collins cried out as she fed Brownie an apple she’d brought with her, “Oh! I’m sure that will not be needed.”
Darcy pulled two half crowns from his money purse, and handed one to each boy. Hiding his internal amusement he said seriously, “I expect you both to do an excellent job.”
At this Mrs. Collins stroked the forehead of the horse one last time, and said decidedly, “I am certain they will. Now that that is settled, I wonder if you might join us for dinner at Longbourn, afterwards we can fix you up with a horse from my stables, and send you back to Netherfield.” When Darcy nodded she added, “I’m afraid I keep my table rather simple when I do not expect any guests, but, given your eloquence on your relative poverty the last time you dined with us, I suppose you shall not mind.” She stepped close with a bright and mischievous smile, “I even — as you said it was your favorite part of the meal — told Cook to properly salt the soup.”
It felt oddly natural to Darcy to smile back as Mrs. Collins teased him — before he met her he never laughed at himself. He replied, “I would be delighted to join you — though I had meant that my favorite part of the conversation was while we consumed the soup.”
Mrs. Collins’s delighted laugh gave Darcy a pleasant sensation which wriggled in his stomach, and which he did not desire to think on.
“It was quite amusing. I nearly hurt myself keeping my laughter to a level appropriate for a dinner party.”
The moment Mrs. Collins stepped out of the barn there was a child’s cry of, “Mrs. Elizabeth!” And a small black haired girl about ten or so ran up to hug her.
The two made a pretty picture as Mrs. Collins laughed, embraced the girl back, and fished a wrapped chocolate treat out of her pocket to give her. “How have you been Millie?”
The girl responded shyly, and Mrs. Collins proceeded to speak to her for a few minutes, praising her, and making her laugh in equal measure. The scene exuded a sense of pretty domesticity. He’d not thought on
it before, but Darcy had a sudden certainty that the passionate argumentative Mrs. Collins would make an excellent mother. The odd flutter in his stomach intensified, as he watched her fine mobile features shift as she spoke, and the way the girl beamed after her once Mrs. Collins embraced the girl a final time, and walked to join Darcy.
“I apologize for the delay, but she is such a dear and —”
“Say nothing of it,” Darcy interrupted. “She is an adorable child, and thinks the world of you. As I daresay she ought.”
Mrs. Collins blushed and laughed, and leapt into a funny story about a prank Millie Simpson performed last Easter. With Mrs. Collins’s laughter, and Darcy’s smiles the two walked to Longbourn.
Chapter 6
One day about a month after Bingley and Darcy arrived in Hertfordshire, Elizabeth spent several hours discussing plans for improving the selection of seeds with one of her largest tenants and his wife. It had been overcast all day, and when Elizabeth was in sight of Longbourn it began to rain. She rushed and within a minute was under the roof of her home. When she looked out it was clear that this would be a heavy rain, and had she been out only five minutes more she would have become soaked.
Elizabeth went to the sitting room to greet her family, and after she looked around asked, “Where is Jane?”
Mrs. Bennet replied with a smile, “Miss Bingley sent her an invitation to spend the afternoon with her and Mrs. Hurst while the gentleman dine with the officers. She set off on horseback fifteen minutes ago.”
“In this weather? Good heavens! Why did she not call for the carriage?”
Mrs. Bennet smugly replied, “I reminded her that you think it is important to make sure the horses are available for the farm.”
“Not much work could be done in this weather in any case — besides do you not usually wish us to use the carriage?” Her mother’s pleased expression told Elizabeth what her game had been. It was a transparent ploy. Darcy would see through it, Elizabeth’s face heated — what would he think?
Mr Darcy and Mr Collins's Widow Page 5
