The Impulse of the Moment

by Jann Rowland

  “To push me to the side may not have been the best course,” replied Jane, her typical serenity firmly in place, “but this level of caution is not required. Thomas will be the master of the estate one day. As you are his wife, you will be the mistress. I fail to see how there is any ambiguity in these facts.”

  “There is not, I suppose,” replied Caroline slowly.

  “Caroline,” added Elizabeth. “Jane is not concerned about being supplanted. It is not necessary for you to shoulder the burden alone—we will help you in whatever you require. But I believe Jane is correct; I would never have thought I would see the day when Caroline Bennet would give way to such an extent as you have since you arrived. Has marriage to my brother truly changed you so much? Or has he simply addled your wits?”

  The teasing tone with which Elizabeth spoke induced them all to laughter though Caroline somehow maintained a scowl as she laughed. When their mirth ran its course, she turned that scowl on Elizabeth.

  “It seems to me our younger sister’s impertinence requires curbing, dearest Jane. With your assistance, I will attend to it first, as I suspect it is more important than anything else.”

  “Perhaps you will try,” said Elizabeth. “But you will fail. I suggest you retreat from the field before you are required to resign in humiliating defeat.”

  “It seems you are correct, Caroline,” replied Jane. “Decidedly impertinent.”

  “We must stick together, Lizzy,” said Mary. “It appears our elders wish to make improvements to our characters.”

  “Do not think you have escaped our notice, dearest Mary,” said Caroline.

  When Thomas returned from his visit, he found the ladies ensconced in the sitting-room, sipping tea and speaking of their plans for the room. Mrs. Bennet had not redecorated the main sitting-room in the time she had been the estate’s mistress, and as a result, the wallpaper was a little faded in places and the furniture was beginning to show its age. As affectionately as a newlywed man can, he greeted his wife and then his sisters, sitting with them for a few moments, looking on them all with some speculation.

  “I see you are already intent upon spending as much of my father’s money as you can manage, Caroline,” said he.

  “It may wait, if you feel that is best,” said Caroline, unperturbed by his tease. “But you must own that the room requires updating.”

  “Oh yes, I suppose that is so,” was Thomas’s offhand response, though he did not look about the room at all. “There is no reason it may be put off that I can think of, and I am certain my father would agree.” Thomas paused a moment, his eyes finding each lady in turn. “Is everything well?”

  “Why should it not be?” said Caroline, her question clearly rhetorical.

  “Indeed, I have no notion at all,” replied Thomas.

  While he allowed the subject to drop, the changes in the house soon became clear. The subject was never raised in Elizabeth’s hearing, but she did not think he misunderstood what had happened. But as a resolution had been achieved, he appeared content to leave well enough alone.

  As the month of August was waning, so too were the warm summer days, which would soon devolve to the less certain weather of autumn and the rains which came with it. Given the lengthening of the season, the inhabitants of the area were more likely to wish to be out of doors, to store up their fill of the warmth and comfort against the onset of cooler temperatures which were approaching. And as the intimacy between Longbourn and Netherfield continued apace, it was unsurprising the two families were often to be found in each other’s company.

  One such occasion was the day after the ladies’ conversation. Elizabeth suspected the outing was suggested partly as a means by which to throw her into the company of Mr. Darcy—at times Caroline’s motives were not precisely hidden. And she hardly needed to bother, for Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley came to Longbourn almost every day, or the Bennet ladies visited Netherfield, and Elizabeth had met the gentleman once more during a morning walk. But as she was willing to further understand the gentleman’s feelings and determine her own, Elizabeth raised no objection.

  The location chosen for their outing was a little glen on the northern edge of Longbourn’s boundaries. Oakham Mount stood to the north of the estate along its border with Netherfield, but if one traveled a little to the west and around the foot of that prominence, there was a delightful location, forested with a bubbling brook running through its center. Since it was a little distant to walk, the party set out on horseback, their food baskets for their picnic strapped to the saddles. When they arrived, a location under the extensive branches of a large tree was chosen, their lunch laid out, and consumed amid the laughing conversation of the company.

  As Elizabeth’s habits were well known to them all, no one was surprised when she rose after their repast and indicated her desire to walk a little along the stream. She did not misunderstand the amused looks of the company when Mr. Darcy indicated his intention to accompany her. In times such as this, however, Elizabeth recognized the benefits of simply ignoring them and set to it with a will.

  “Have you come here often?” asked Mr. Darcy as they walked away from the rest of the group.

  “It is a little further from Longbourn than I usually roam,” replied Elizabeth. “At times I have come on horseback, but I do not ride so often as I walk.”

  “Georgiana would love it here.”

  Elizabeth turned a curious look on her companion. “Your sister.”

  “Yes,” replied Mr. Darcy. “My mother, you see, suffered multiple miscarriages. Georgiana is my only sibling and my junior by twelve years. As she was born at a time when my mother had given up hope of another child, she is precious to us all. She is also the youngest of my generation in my extended family by several years.”

  “What kind of girl is your sister?” Elizabeth directed an arched brow at her companion. “I suspect, considering your own character, that she is confident and poised, yet uneasy in society. Am I correct?”

  Mr. Darcy chuckled and shook his head. “You are partially correct, for Georgiana shares the Darcy trait of reticence. In her case, however, it is more shyness. If she did not have my mother to guide her, I might worry that her retiring nature would be her undoing. But my mother is attentive to her difficulties and has done much to soothe her fears. She is still but sixteen, and will not be out for two more years.”

  “And her interests? Does she share these with you?”

  “To some respects. She is intelligent though I say it myself. But I think she may enjoy novels too much; as my mother declares there is no harm in them, there is little hope she will desist. Georgiana’s favorite pastime is music, particularly the pianoforte. If my mother allowed it, I am certain she would play and sing all day long.”

  Elizabeth laughed. She stepped up to the stream beside which they walked and bent down, slipping her hand into the water, allowing the flowing liquid to run through her fingers. Then as Mr. Darcy stopped beside her, watching her with a half-smile, Elizabeth experimentally flicked her fingers, spraying water in his direction, though it did not travel half the distance.

  “I would suggest you take great care, Miss Bennet,” warned he, though his smile never faded. “As it is you who are destined to lose such a battle, it would not be in your best interest to draw me in.”

  “Surely you are too much of a gentleman to seek to wet me through,” said Elizabeth, injecting a measure of shock into her voice.

  “Rather, I would be honor-bound to respond,” was Mr. Darcy’s amused reply. “To refuse such a challenge would be unconscionable.”

  “Then I suppose it is for the best that I have little desire to provoke a battle.” Elizabeth shook off the hand that she had trailed in the water and rose. “As for Miss Darcy, I hope that I am introduced to her one day. She sounds like a delightful girl.”

  “My dear Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy. “I believe your introduction is inevitable. The timing is yet to be decided, but
it shall happen.”

  The intensity in Mr. Darcy’s countenance and stare was something to which Elizabeth was still becoming accustomed. She did not misunderstand the inference, however, and she blushed and looked away. Since Mr. Darcy did not speak, they continued their walk in comfortable and companionable silence.

  Though Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy appeared comfortable in each other’s company, one of those watching them was not certain. There was something odd going on, and Jane Bennet did not know what to make of it.

  Having been her sister’s confidante for many years and knowing Mr. Darcy’s actions toward Elizabeth, Jane had long been doubtful of the man. Her natural instinct told her that there was some explanation, but the protective elder sister rejected such possibilities in favor of suspicion. When he had been absent from the neighborhood, it had been easier to allow the first part of her nature to dominate her thinking. Now that he had returned and was paying Elizabeth so much attention, the latter part was gaining strength.

  But how could Jane be certain? To her eyes Elizabeth was not distressed in Mr. Darcy’s company—quite the opposite, in fact. But Jane had seen enough of Elizabeth’s blushes to wonder if the man was sincere in his affections, or merely flattering her for some purpose of his own

  The worst part of it was that Elizabeth had not confided in Jane as she always had in the past. Was that not a reason for concern? Jane could not say for certain, but it worried her. Could Mr. Darcy have improper motives? Was he attempting to charm Elizabeth because of those motives? Or had he threatened her somehow to prevent her from speaking to her family?

  Surely that last was unlikely. But Jane still worried. She did not know what to do. Her claim she would approach her father should she be excessively concerned flitted in the back of her mind, and she wondered if she should not have done it already. Elizabeth’s countenance, which did not seem concerned at all, kept Jane’s fear in check. But it did not dispel it.

  “Some deep thought seems to have come over you, Miss Bennet.”

  A blink, and Jane turned to Mr. Bingley, noting his jovial smile, tinged with concern. Jane blushed, for she had been so caught up in concerns for her sister, she had not paid any attention to Mr. Bingley. And here they were walking some distance from their picnic site, yet she had not said a word since they had arisen and walked away!

  “Pardon me,” said Jane, her cheeks heating from mortification. “I was not attending. It seems I am prone to woolgathering today.”

  “It is no trouble,” replied Mr. Bingley, his good humor completely restored. “The times in which I am introspective are few, but I do have them.”

  Sensing this was an opportunity, Jane turned to Mr. Bingley and said, as casually as she could manage: “You have known Mr. Darcy for some time, have you not, Mr. Bingley?”

  “Some years, yes,” said Mr. Bingley. “We attended university together—or rather, my first two years overlapped with his last two.”

  “You seem like close friends,” said Jane.

  “Yes, we are,” replied Mr. Bingley, his voice firm. “There are few friends as dependable as Fitzwilliam Darcy once he admits you to his circle. That he has few whom he calls friend makes it even more of an honor once it has been achieved.”

  “And you have never known him to be . . . dishonorable?”

  Mr. Bingley turned to Jane, a question in his eyes. Then they widened, and he looked over to where Mr. Darcy was escorting Elizabeth along the stream. A grin suffused his countenance, and he turned his attention back to Jane, mirth dancing in his eyes.

  “It is obvious to where these questions tend, Miss Bennet. While I would not have you question Darcy’s character or his honor, the happiness of a most beloved sister is reason enough to do so, indeed. And you need not worry. Darcy is as good a man as ever breathed. Should he decide on your sister as a prospective bride, Elizabeth will be very well cared for. There is nothing he would not do for her happiness.”

  Reassured by Mr. Bingley’s testimony, Jane glanced again at her sister, noting that Elizabeth appeared to be teasing Mr. Darcy. Surely if he had threatened her, she would not show this uninhibited playfulness. Perhaps her worries were without foundation. At the very least, Thomas was here and would provide an able protector. And so, Jane turned her attention to Mr. Bingley and attempted to put the matter of Mr. Darcy from her mind.

  There was another who noted the attentions of Mr. Darcy to Elizabeth Bennet. And unlike Jane, he had no intention of allowing the matter to proceed without some measure of reassurance. The happiness of that good woman was too important a matter to leave it to chance. Thus, after observing them for some days, he finally mustered the courage to bring up the subject with the man in question on Sunday after church.

  “Mr. Darcy, I would like to speak with you, if you will spare me a moment.”

  It was clear that the gentleman was taken aback by this somewhat terse request, but he did not hesitate to give an affirmative response. It was fortunate that Miss Elizabeth was engaged in conversation with Miss Lucas, for he did not know what she might say in response to his interference. As it was, he led Mr. Darcy to the side, out of hearing of any parishioners departing after the church services. When they had reached an out of the way location, Mr. Darcy turned a questioning look on him.

  “Yes, Mr. Collins? How may I be of assistance?”

  Now that he had the gentleman’s full attention, William Collins was not certain what to say. It felt, at once, to be both his duty and an impertinence to ask such questions of a man of the eminence of Mr. Darcy. But the weight of his resolve once again settled over him, and Collins straightened and looked the other man in the eye.

  “I would like to know, sir, of your intentions regarding Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

  Had he declared his purpose to walk to the moon, Collins did not think Mr. Darcy could have been more surprised. He did not respond for several moments, apparently attempted to discern whether the question had been asked with a seriousness of purpose.

  “You wish to know of my intentions toward Miss Elizabeth,” repeated Mr. Darcy after a moment of silence.

  “Yes,” replied Collins firmly. “Let me say that I do not suspect you of ulterior motives, Mr. Darcy. In fact, I possess the highest respect for your position in society, and your character, especially considering others whom I consider highly moral and intelligent people have a good opinion of you.

  “But Miss Elizabeth is my cousin, and I am . . . I have the highest opinion of her. I am neither her father nor her guardian. I am nothing more than her cousin. As her cousin, I would not wish for anything untoward to affect her happiness. Therefore, I should like to know if you are serious in your pursuit. Or is she simply a pleasant diversion while you are here?”

  Though he appeared bemused, Mr. Darcy was much quicker to answer this time. “I assure you, Mr. Collins, that I too think the best of your cousin. There is nothing more in my interest for her than you see. My intentions are entirely honorable and not the whim of a moment.”

  Until that moment, Collins had not known he was trembling, but he realized that his shaking was now from emotion, rather than anxiety. It seemed Mr. Darcy realized this also, for he looked on with compassion.

  “This is difficult for you, is it not?”

  “Nothing less than concern for my cousin prompts me to speak so,” said Collins, attempting to hold on to the merest shred of his dignity. “Though you are a man to whom I would never speak in such a fashion, it is imperative that whoever chooses my cousin must understand the worth of the gem they seek. She is the most remarkable young woman I have ever had the good fortune to meet.”

  Collins had the distinct impression that Mr. Darcy was not misled at all in his attempts to obfuscate. The words he spoke next were proof of his supposition.

  “Then you may rest easy, Mr. Collins, for I quite agree with you. At this time, I cannot speak with any surety about the ultimate success of my suit. But if it is successful, she will al
ways be treated as a woman of her caliber demands. I give you my word.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. Now if you will excuse me.”

  With a nod, Mr. Darcy turned away and rejoined Miss Elizabeth, who was watching them curiously. When he felt her gaze on him, Collins gave her a smile, hoping she did not see how difficult it was to avoid bursting into tears. As the congregation slowly made their way from the church, Collins avoided her, speaking with other gentlemen, until the crowd finally cleared. Then he made his way slowly toward the altar, sitting on the front pew and gazing at the cross displayed so prominently there.

  That this day would come was something William Collins had always known. But that did not make it any easier to bear. Though he had been in love with his cousin since the first moment he had come to Longbourn, he had always known she would never be his. The reality of how soon he expected she would belong to another man was akin to the crushing weight of a quarry full of rocks on his head.

  Feeling, rather than seeing someone sitting to his left, Collins turned his head slightly to see his patron sitting beside him. What Mr. Bennet displayed for his benefit was not pity—would never be that. But it was compassion, respect, and the pride of a father for a son, something Collins had never known until he had come to Longbourn.

  “It is difficult.”

  The voice breaking the silence caught Collins off guard though he supposed it should not have. Though he had attempted to keep the matter quiet, hoping to avoid attracting attention, his cousin was as observant a man as Collins had ever met. It was not surprising that he had noticed what had occurred.

  “I never thought it would be this excruciating,” whispered Collins. “I would never stand in the way of her happiness. But the very thought of her in another man’s arms fills me with sorrow such that I wonder how I shall withstand it.”

  “And yet you shall,” said Mr. Bennet. “When Elizabeth marries, you will finally be free to move forward, to find your own happiness. In some ways, her presence at Longbourn has not allowed you to look at life with hope and anticipation.”