by Olivia Kane
An examination of her behavior toward Mr. Darcy was necessary. She feared that her great dislike of the man, which led her to taunt him, may have been read by him as encouragement.
It was a miscalculation she had not foreseen. She resolved to keep her distance from him for the remainder of their stay and refrain from teasing as a means of engagement. The Rosings drawing room was vast; she would be sure they stayed on opposite ends.
Footsteps sounded behind her and she turned to see to whom they belonged. To her horror, Mr. Darcy appeared on the path, trespassing on her territory. His expression was one of grave determination and Elizabeth could only hope that his surprise appearance in the garden did not concern her.
“Good morning, Miss Bennet,” he said, bowing slightly.
“Good morning, Mr. Darcy,” she said. Afraid that he would read into her appearance there, she said, “Your aunt invited me to view her spring flowers last night.”
“Yes, she confirmed to me this morning that such an invitation was issued.”
“How come you to be here in this place knowing I was to frequent it? I imagine you would have walked elsewhere to avoid me,” she said in a lively tone, quickly failing to keep her promise not to tease to him.
“Please don’t leave if I admit to hoping to run into you here,” he pleaded.
“I won’t leave, as my curiosity is now too great not to be satisfied.”
“I merely have a question to ask you.”
“I will certainly try to answer whatever inquiry you have truthfully,” she replied forthrightly.
“Please, I wish to know what I must do to be granted the high honor of being one of your suitors? It cannot have escaped you how ardently I admire you; you must know how my gaze is set on you as if there were no other company in the room, how there is no other opinion I care to hear professed more than yours.”
Elizabeth stopped, stunned by his avowal and was momentarily silent. Then she held up her hand and hurriedly said, “Mr. Darcy, say no more lest you regret your imprudent declarations.”
“I could no more regret this declaration than I could regret breathing. I cannot stand by and watch the Mr. Collins or the Mr. Skeffingtons of the world make their claim on you,” he exclaimed with some agitation.
“Their claim on me? What can you be speaking of?” she cried, astounded at his suggestion.
“I cannot stand by mutely when my attachment to you is so great and my intention is to make you my spouse. I have fought against my feelings but cannot conquer them and so rely on your acceptance for my relief. Never mind the difficulty of our different ranks, as we discussed, our affection for each other will help us overcome. Then there is the matter of Lady Catherine’s expectations; she is not an easy woman to let down.”
“Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth felt so dreadful that she could make no attempt to stop him and so she was forced to listen to all she did not want to hear.
“I thought by leaving Netherfield these feelings would wane, but they did not. In London, they increased and I came to Kent to think, only to find you here. Through the hand of fate, I was able to observe you separate from the impropriety so often demonstrated by your mother and sisters, and I have now come to regard you as the finest of your family. But the thought of a new suitor being introduced to you this afternoon has made me agitated beyond relief. Knowing I had never declared myself to you, I could not rest until I did.”
His declaration, a mix of insults and compliments, created such a swirl of feelings within her she could not formulate a reply. That he thought their differences were only of rank! Her personal feelings of hurt over his separating Jane, his insulting comments about her looks made freely and without caution in public, as well as his ruinous treatment of Wickham were true, heartfelt grievances not easily swept away or forgiven. They were all certainly too much to accuse him of right there. Instead, she chose merely to remind him of his most obvious commitment and why his request to her was absurd.
“Mr. Darcy, you forget yourself. You have a fiancé. Propriety prevents me from participating in this discussion.”
But Darcy persisted. “I will speak to my aunt, if you wish, and remove the impediment. Your sensitivity to this supposed engagement is understandable. My aunt will be disappointed, but she will manage it. It is probably past time that I do so.”
“Do not do so on my account,” she said with haste.
“But it must be done anyway. My situation is such that I was hoping my cousin would be the one to let her mother down gently, as her feelings are the same as mine, I believe. But perhaps that is improper as time goes on. My feelings for you are such that I cannot allow my aunt to continue this charade. But what of your feelings?”
“Mr. Darcy. My feelings about you are so harsh that I fear wilting the crocuses should I release them into the air.”
“Harsh? In what way?”
Before she could expound on her feelings, a rustling in the shrubbery distracted them and a gardener entered the walled garden. He nodded to the couple, knelt down on the path ahead of them and began quietly working the beds.
Unable to continue their conversation, Elizabeth hissed, “Say nothing to your aunt on my account. Please, I implore you, do not mention my name in connection with yours. I take my leave now, Mr. Darcy. Good day.”
“As you wish. Good day.”
He made a brief stiff bow as she fled his presence.
Discouraged but not defeated, he waited a few minutes to give her space, exchanging small civilities with the groundskeeper before departing the garden. The interruption of his declaration was untimely but he did not believe it ruinous. He would appeal to Miss Bennet again when she came to Rosings that afternoon for tea as planned. After being given ample time to reflect, he was certain her answer would be more agreeable.
Elizabeth’s feet carried her by habit down the long drive and back to the Crane Inn. She burst into her room and ripped off her bonnet, tugging at the ties.
Jane stood up in alarm at her whirlwind entrance and cried out to see her sister’s visible distress.
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Mr. Darcy is what happened. Oh, Jane, I am humiliated. We must leave for Longbourn, immediately. How is your headache?” she added suddenly, remembering Jane’s ill health.
“I am fine, but leave now? Why?”
The slamming of the door and the girls’ heightened voices roused Mr. Bennet from his room. He made his way down the hallway to their open door.
“My dear Lizzie, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” he exclaimed.
“Pappa, if you please, I wish to return to Longbourn immediately. I cannot stay here at Rosings. I cannot go to tea or dinner or be in the same company he is in,” she cried as she paced the floor.
“He?”
“Mr. Darcy, Pappa,” Jane explained.
“What did Mr. Darcy do this time? Did he insult you again?”
Elizabeth sat down on the bed, sinking her head down into her hands.
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head.
Jane tilted her head. “Pappa, Mr. Bingley indicated to me the other day that Mr. Darcy’s esteem for Elizabeth has driven him to distraction. I’m afraid that this news has finally reached Lizzie from no other than Mr. Darcy himself.”
A broad smile broke out onto Mr. Bennet’s face.
“I suspected as much. Congratulations, Lizzy, for you have attracted one of the finest men of my acquaintance. His taste in young women is a mark of his intelligence.”
Lifting her head, she exclaimed, “Pappa, how can you say such a thing? This is dreadful news. I dislike Mr. Darcy more than the influenza.” Elizabeth’s cheeks still flamed from the encounter. She went to the basin and poured cold water into it then splashed her face.
“What did he say to you that has caused such turmoil?” Mr. Bennet said, his tone softening. Elizabeth dried her face and sighing, returned to the edge of the bed.
“He wished to be one of my suitors.”
> “How is that a bad thing, requiring our exit at this very moment from Kent?”
“Because he is the last man I would marry, unless you wish for me to marry someone whom I disliked.”
“I do not understand young women these days. Is not Mr. Darcy the type of suitor most young women pine for? He possesses wealth, status, and height. He is a pleasant conversationalist and the owner of an impressive country home.”
“Don’t you see how manipulative he is? You must add that trait to your list, Pappa, for he has surely won you over in little time,” Elizabeth insisted.
“What are you intimating? Are you saying Mr. Darcy bought my affections?” Mr. Bennet struggled to keep a straight expression in the face of so much drama.
“Yes, I am.”
“Lizzy, you insult me.”
“Forgive me, Pappa, but I truly believe the means of his manipulation knows no bounds. I speak the truth when I say he does not treat the less fortunate in a righteous manner. I am certain he separated Jane and Bingley because of our perceived low connections. He ignores his fiancé, despite being under the same roof. And I am afraid he is using me as a pawn to be released from the obligation of an engagement he does not want and is not gentleman enough to decline.”
“These are grave sins indeed,” Mr. Bennet opined.
“Pappa, please, I have never seen Lizzie so shaken. I am concerned for her health if we were to stay and encounter Mr. Darcy again so soon,” Jane joined her sister in entreating her father.
“I need to go back to Longbourn now and put as many miles as possible between us,” Elizabeth insisted.
Jane put her arm around her sister. “If we could, Pappa. I hate to see Lizzy so distressed. And there can be no more purpose for us here. Mr. Collins will not miss us.”
“Lizzy, is this honestly what you want?” Mr. Bennet asked.
“Yes, Pappa. Only promise to speak of this encounter to no one.”
Jane and Mr. Bennet swore their silence.
“Very well. Then I shall go to Rosings to inform them while you gather your things,” Mr. Bennet said, moving to do so.
“Oh no, Pappa,” Elizabeth cried out. “A quick note telling them that we have urgent need to return home will suffice. It is Mr. Darcy’s preferred way to say goodbye.”
“A note it is then,” he complied.
A carriage was called for, their trunks quickly packed, and their excuses sent to Rosings for the missed afternoon tea invitation with Mr. Skeffington. Jane herself penned a letter to Bingley apologizing for their quick exit. The past few days with him had given her strength; his regard for her was evident and she believed that an offer would be coming her way soon enough that she could leave his presence without regret.
For now, her thoughts were with her sister. Having escaped Mr. Collins’ tentacles, Jane wanted her sister to feel the same relief from Mr. Darcy’s unwanted favor. An hour later their belongings were safely loaded and without a backward glance, the travelers departed the Crane Inn and were on their way to Longbourn.
Chapter 14
The trio arrived at Longbourn to find the family home in a general state of upheaval.
“Lizzy, Jane, thank goodness you are here. We are in an uproar having received the most terrible news!” Mrs. Bennet wailed. Used to her mother’s daily upset of nerves, Elizabeth was alarmed to see real tears flowing down her cheeks.
“What can it be, Mamma? Is someone ill?” Elizabeth said, taking off her coat.
“Worse. Ruined! Someone is ruined,” she wailed.
Lydia was crying effusively, Kitty was white with shock, and Mary had retreated to her Bible for comfort.
“The news must be grave. Do tell,” Elizabeth urged.
“Prepare yourself,” Mrs. Bennet said, wiping her tears. “But Mr. Wickham has been found to be a thief.”
“A thief?” cried both Jane and Elizabeth.
“Yes. Apparently, he has been stealing monies from several of the Meryton residents kind enough to host him,” Mrs. Bennet explained.
Elizabeth scowled. “This cannot be true.”
“It is. In fact, he even stole from my dear Mr. Phillips, who has personally confirmed the theft to me. Silver candlesticks that were a wedding gift. To think that the Phillips’ constant hospitality cost them in such a way. I feel ill.”
“He stole from Sir Willaim Lucas too! Smuggled out a silver place setting,” Kitty said. “Dropped the fork and spoon right into his boot.”
“This is grave news indeed, Mamma,” Elizabeth said, sinking down in her chair.
“He is disgraced. Who are we to believe when such an amiable, humble gentleman turns out to be a common thief?” Mrs. Bennet sobbed.
“I am sure it is not his fault. He was deprived a living by Mr. Darcy causing him to resort to thievery. With more support from Mr. Darcy, perhaps Wickham’s character may not have turned bad,” Elizabeth defended him.
“Now Lizzy, that is enough,” Mr. Bennet interrupted. The family paused to see their father speak sharply to his favorite daughter. Upon seeing their astonished faces, he softened his tone.
“If he is indeed a common thief then surely you can not blame Mr. Wickham’s stealing on Mr. Darcy. As a member of the regiment, he has a salary that more than covers his needs. And he has been the beneficiary of much hospitality in our town. Mr. Darcy has no blame in this matter. You have simply backed the wrong horse, my dear. A common mistake.”
“Mr. Darcy? You mean that tall, rude man? Why would he care? What do you mean backed the wrong horse?” Mrs. Bennet asked.
“Only that Elizabeth thought Wickham the superior character and thought ill of Darcy. I dare say, where Meryton society is now concerned, the feelings must be now as ill toward Wickham as they are toward Darcy. By chance I happened to meet with Darcy at Rosings and found him to be the best kind of man,” Mr. Bennet said. “I will not have Darcy disparaged in my home.”
Stunned silence filled the room. Elizabeth dared not speak, as she feared offending her father a second time.
“How was the thievery discovered?” Jane inquired, turning the conversation away from the dangerous topic of Mr. Darcy.
“One of his fellow officers gave him away. He was found with a haul in his private quarters, but a great percentage of what he stole was already pawned. It appears that his frequent trips out of town were to unload the goods,” Mary said.
“Oh dear,” Lizzie said. “I cannot believe it.”
Dabbing her eyes, Mrs. Bennet inhaled deeply and composed herself. Smiling weakly, she said, “Now Mr. Bennet, please, tell me some good news. Which of my two lovely daughters is engaged to Mr. Collins?”
Mr. Bennet cleared his throat and said plainly, “There is no engagement. It was discouraged by Lady Catherine herself.”
“Discouraged? I don’t understand. You mean encouraged. It was she who urged him to marry in the first place,” Mrs. Bennet maintained.
“After being introduced to our daughters, she thought neither Jane nor Lizzy appropriate wives for a clergyman. ‘Mr. Collins, you are not looking for entrée into the ton,’ I believe were her words.”
“What did you do to make her think such a thought? We packed only modest dresses! Did you not wear your lace?” Mrs. Bennet’s nerves were beginning to fray from the news and she looked from face to face for an explanation that would satisfy her.
“We had barely arrived, Mamma, when Lady Catherine issued her edict,” Jane explained.
Mrs. Bennet put her head in her hands and stood there unmoving as the room went silent. After a pause of high drama, she lifted her head and stated, “I am going upstairs to my bed while I still own it.”
“Don’t be vexed, my dear. Mr. Collins will soon return to pursue one of the remaining five graces of Longbourn. Wasn’t that how he referred to you all?” Mr. Bennet grinned.
Lydia, Kitty, and Mary grew pale.
“Oh thank goodness!” Mrs. Bennet clapped her hands. “I knew Mr. Collins was heaven-sent.” She started for t
he stairs. “Hill, bring up a pot of tea. I am overcome at the moment and fear a collapse coming on. And bring some of the cake as well.”
The entire room held their breath as the sound of her bedroom door slamming shut reverberated throughout the house.
Mr. Bennet shook his head as if shaking off the topic of Mr. Collins and declared a sudden craving for strong whiskey, ordering Hill to bring him one as soon as she was done tending to Mrs. Bennet. Then mumbling, he headed to his library and shut the door.
Hill left the room to boil the water and returned quickly to begin slicing cake for Mrs. Bennet’s tray.
Kitty began the complaints. “Lydia, you should be the one to accept Mr. Collins for I will throw myself in the stream if he makes me an offer and Mamma forces me to accept it.”
“No, if he asks you must accept him,” Lydia directed. “You are older; it would be improper for me to marry first.”
“That is not what you said when we thought Mr. Collins would be handsome! And my heart is set on winning Captain Carter. Oh, how Mr. Collins ruins everything!” Kitty cried.
Only Mary was silent in the midst of the tumult. After a moment of contemplation, she solemnly announced, “If Mr. Collins were to direct his attention toward me, I would be prepared to enter into a courtship with him.”
Jane gasped. “Mary! You are not serious!”
“I am sincere. I would consent to a year minimum of courtship. In that time span, I would hope all my sisters would endeavor to find appropriate spouses. As I do not ever intend to marry, I will eventually be required to break off the courtship,” she explained.
“You would do that for us?” Kitty asked.
“Yes, I would. I care little for what society thinks of me, but I care very much for my sisters’ felicity. My greatest hope in life is to see you all well-settled to kind and virtuous men in whom your hearts delight. Besides, Father may not die first. We must stop acting as if this is a certainty. After all, there seem to be as many widowers as widows in my acquaintance.”