Mrs Collins' Lover

by Bronwen Chisholm

  Darcy shook his head. “Lady Catherine will remain in the neighbourhood, and Mr. Collins will always kowtow to her.”

  His cousin did not respond, and they allowed a companionable silence to fill the air once more until Mr. Kite cleared his throat. The gentlemen jumped, having not heard the butler enter. Darcy withdrew his timepiece and confirmed her ladyship was most likely highly displeased with their extended absence. They finished their drinks and followed the butler out of the room.

  “Darcy! Enough of this.” Lady Catherine sat in her chair which was strategically placed in the centre of the room where she could partake in every conversation. “You will tell me what has you so distracted and we will address it. I cannot abide this attitude.”

  Without hesitating, Darcy bowed. “Forgive me, Lady Catherine. Perhaps it would be best then if I retire early this evening.” He turned and left the room before she could respond, feeling a small scrap of guilt over leaving his cousins to endure his aunt’s wrath.

  Once he entered his rooms, he dismissed his man and fell into the seat before the fire. The pain he had felt the night before after hearing of her marriage was nothing to the despair he felt now, knowing of her situation. He rested his head against the back of the chair and stared at the flames until they lulled him into a restless sleep.

  When he awoke, it was morning. A blanket had been draped over him at some time, probably by Fitz or his valet, Nelson. He turned to find the curtains opened enough to reveal the beginnings of a beautiful day. A glance at his timepiece assured him the majority of the household remained abed, so he rose and changed from his evening clothing into something warm that did not require his man’s assistance. As he passed through the kitchens, he grabbed a hunk of bread and nodded toward the kitchen maids who were preparing for breakfast, still several hours away.

  Finally, he was outside and breathing the chill, spring air; allowing it to fill his lungs and clear his mind. Despising the formal gardens for their rigid formality and the fact they were easily seen from the house, Darcy headed down a slightly overgrown path toward the outer edge of the park. When they were children, he and Fitz often escaped from the house during their visits and would race each other down this path. The thought of children brought tears to his eyes when he remembered his dreams of his own offspring; his and Elizabeth’s.

  He could feel melancholy nipping at his heels, trying to pull him under its spell, and he tossed away the bread and broke into a run. The wind stole his hat as branches swiped at his legs and arms, but he continued on. When his breath burned in his chest, he pushed forward, determined to outpace his dark thoughts and possibly turn back time. He saw the end of the path and forced himself faster until he broke out of the trees into the large clearing filled with wildflowers.

  “Oh!”

  The female cry caught his attention and he spun about to find her, the old her, the Elizabeth Bennet of his memory. He had to catch himself, fearful he had lost his mind and was seeing things; but when she blushed and turned away, he realized she was real.

  “Wait!” he cried out.

  Elizabeth stopped, but did not turn toward him. His eyes feasted upon her. Her hair was uncovered, and he saw no sign of that blasted cap or even a bonnet. Her luxurious curls had escaped their pins, if she had used them at all. The morning dress she wore was simple, he thought he remembered it from Hertfordshire, and the hem was caked with mud in areas. The back of the skirt was dirty where she must have been sitting.

  “I did not mean to startle you … Madam.” He could not bring himself to call her by her married name and he had to fight the urge to use her Christian name.

  Slowly, she turned toward him, but still she would not meet his gaze. “Forgive my appearance, Mr. Darcy. Normally no one is about at this time of day and I am able to return to the parsonage before I am seen.”

  He stepped toward her. “I find nothing amiss. I, too, have escaped the house early this morning before anyone was stirring.” He now stood directly in front of her and he bowed. “May I accompany you on your return walk?”

  Finally, she looked upon his countenance. A timid smile pulled at her lips and she nodded. Darcy held out his arm and she placed her hand upon it, barely touching him. Even so, her fingers felt like ice through his coat and he placed his hand upon hers to warm it. She gasped and tried to pull away, but he would not relinquish her hand now that he possessed it.

  “You are cold. Allow me to warm you. Please.” He hoped she did not hear the note of desperation in his voice.

  She refused to meet his gaze again but did nod her consent. They walked slowly, neither eager to return. The silence between them was deafening, leading Darcy to finally speak.

  “I was surprised to hear of your presence when I arrived.”

  “Yes, everything happened rather suddenly; much like your party quitting Netherfield.”

  Darcy winced. Had she accepted Collins because he left her behind? But surely, she had not … He thought he had been careful not to raise expectations.

  “Mr. Bingley and his sisters were well, I hope, when you left London?”

  His thoughts turned to his friend’s despondency, but he replied, “Perfectly so, I thank you.”

  “I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of ever returning to Netherfield again?”

  “I have heard him say so; but it is probable that he may spend very little of his time there in the future. “

  Elizabeth huffed. “If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for the neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then they might possibly get a settled family there.” Her voice took on a bitter tinge. “But perhaps, Mr. Bingley did not take the house so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood as for his own, and we must expect him to keep it or quit it on the same principle.”

  Darcy stopped walking, drawing her to a halt as well. She turned her head to the side, so he could not see her features. Realization struck him, and his brow creased. “You are displeased with him?”

  “Why would I be displeased with Mr. Bingley?”

  This time he detected a tremble in her voice. His mind raced trying to determine what Bingley might have done which would discompose Elizabeth. They began walking once more at her urging, but Darcy was unable to speak while deep in thought. A few steps farther, she slipped her hand from his arm.

  “Thank you for your company, Mr. Darcy. We are nearing the parsonage and I should not be seen ... with you or in this state of dress.” She dipped a quick curtsey.

  As Darcy was rising from his bow, he realized she was already rushing away. He watched until she was out of sight, then slowly made his way back to Rosings so lost in thought that he entered through the front door. The startled expressions of several servants brought him back to himself and he remembered how casually he was dressed. He nodded toward Kite who smiled, his brow raised questioningly.

  “Is her ladyship at breakfast?” Darcy asked as though there were nothing unusual regarding his attire or his coming in at so early an hour.

  “No, sir, but I expect her quite soon.”

  Darcy nodded once more and rushed up the stairs to his room before he might encounter any other members of the household. Nelson had removed the clothing which had been discarded earlier that morning and could be heard bumping around in the dressing room. Still desiring time to reflect on what Elizabeth had said, Darcy decided not to alert his valet of his presence. When he had paced the full length of the room and back, a knock interrupted his thoughts. Fitz responded to his call to enter and Darcy continued another pass of the room.

  “At least you have changed,” the Colonel said as he took the nearest seat. His head cocked to the side as he watched Darcy’s progress. “What has occurred?”

  It was unsurprising that his cousin would recognize a change in Darcy, though he was unable to put a name to the emotions he was feeling. He stopped and stared at Fitz, running a hand through his hair. “I spoke to her.”
/>   The Colonel leaned forward. “When? Where?”

  “This morning.” Darcy dropped into the companion chair. “I woke long before anyone else and felt the need to be outside. I found her in the glen. You remember; where we played as youth.”

  Fitz nodded. “What was she doing there?”

  “I am uncertain.” Darcy shook his head as a sad smile spread across his countenance. “I wish you had seen her, though I am glad we were alone. She was herself … for the most part.” He chewed his lip as he rubbed the stubble on his chin. “She is angry with Bingley.”

  “Bingley?”

  Darcy nodded. “For a moment I thought … I am really not sure what to make of any of it.”

  “Come,” Fitz said as he leaned back in his seat and brought his foot up to rest on the opposite knee. “Tell me all that transpired. Perhaps I might be able to assist you.”

  When Darcy had finished his tale, his cousin appeared equally perplexed. Nelson chose that moment to knock and was granted entry.

  “Are you ready to dress?” the valet asked, his gaze travelling over Darcy’s clothing. “One of your hats is missing, sir. I am uncertain what might have become of it.”

  Darcy felt his colour rise. “I fear I have lost it, Nelson. It was blown from my head this morning and I did not take the time to chase it.”

  The servant glanced toward the window. “I was unaware the winds were so strong to-day.”

  “No, it was my own doing.” Darcy stood and entered the dressing room. “We will have to make do with what there is unless it is found.”

  “Very well, sir.” Nelson followed him.

  The Colonel stood and began to follow but stopped just before the doorway. “If you will excuse me, Cousin, there is something I must do before breakfast.”

  Darcy nodded as he sat back in the chair to be shaved. “I will see you below in half an hour.”

  ***********

  Darcy found his cousins deep in conversation when he entered the breakfast-parlour. Lady Catherine had not yet appeared, and they quickly included him in their discussion.

  “You did not chase Elizabeth from the field, did you, Darcy?” Anne asked beseechingly.

  Taken aback by the question, Darcy stuttered his response. “Chased? No, I … She said she was returning to the parsonage. I escorted her a short distance. Why would you ask such a thing?”

  “It is her time of freedom.” Anne lifted her ever present handkerchief and dabbed her nose. “She wakes early each morning, before even the maids, and slips from the home so she can return before she is missed. If Mr. Collins would learn of it …” She shook her head but did not finish her statement.

  Darcy’s heart clenched and he took the seat beside her. “Anne, what occurred to change her so?”

  A glance between his cousins caused Darcy’s spine to stiffen. There was some uncommunicated conversation of which he was purposely excluded. Finally, Anne turned to answer him.

  “It is not my story to tell, but I will say that Mr. Collins has used the Bible to support everything he and Mother have done. Elizabeth is his wife and, therefore, must submit to his wishes.”

  “Which correspond with Lady Catherine’s.” Darcy swallowed. “Has he … has he struck her?”

  “Not that I am aware.”

  Lady Catherine’s voice entered the room before she did, so the gentlemen were standing when she came into view. Her gaze swept over them as she headed for her chair. Knowing what was expected of him, Darcy held it for her.

  “You appear slightly improved this morning, Nephew.” Lady Catherine took her seat and motioned for food to be brought to the table.

  Darcy and Fitz took seats across from their Cousin Anne.

  “Where is Mrs. Jenkinson?” her ladyship demanded of her daughter.

  “She was unwell this morning. Fitzwilliam escorted me downstairs.”

  It suddenly occurred to Darcy that Anne’s voice had taken on that whispery feel, but previously it had been strong and nearly petulant when she confronted him.

  He studied his aunt, taking in her features. The lines about her mouth showed her age, but more so, her bitterness. Her lips were pinched revealing her continued displeasure with all about her. Had he noticed it a year ago, he would have pitied her for a life which caused such discontentment. To-day he only saw a resentful woman determined to make those around her as miserable as she herself was. Determined to make Elizabeth live a similar life.

  Fitz kicked him, drawing Darcy from his thoughts and he swung his head in that direction. His cousin’s eyes widened slightly as he smiled pointedly. It took a minute to understand, but Darcy realized he must have been frowning most severely at their aunt and instead adopted his normal reserved mask.

  The meal progressed, but Darcy found it difficult to eat. He was able to manage enough not to draw his aunt’s attention and then announced he must return to the ledgers. As he was about to leave the room, he hesitated.

  “Fitzwilliam, would you accompany me to inspect the tenant homes this afternoon?”

  “Oh,” cried Anne. “May I go along? I will drive my phaeton.”

  Lady Catherine appeared about to speak out against the idea, but remained silent, watching Darcy for his response. Seeing her hesitation as hope that he might finally propose, Darcy balked at acquiescing, but did not want to disappoint Anne.

  “I believe the fresh air would do you good, Cousin. Shall I arrange for a maid or footman to accompany you?”

  “Nonsense!” Anne shook her head. “I often drive the cart alone with a footman following on horseback. I will be safe enough with the two of you in my company.”

  “Then it is settled.” Darcy bowed and headed for the study. Once inside, he threw himself into the work. He was determined to make up for the time he had lost the day before. He was pleased to see what had been accomplished by the time Kite appeared in the doorway.

  “I beg your pardon, sir, but her ladyship requests you join her in the parlour for refreshments before you ride out.”

  A glance at the mantle clock revealed it was a full hour before he had intended to leave, and Darcy frowned. “Is she awaiting my presence now, Kite?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Is anyone with her?”

  The wrinkles about the butler’s eyes deepened and his lips twitched in ill-concealed amusement. “Miss de Bourgh, sir.”

  “I see.” Darcy looked at the ledger before him. “Please inform my aunt that I will appear shortly and ask the Colonel to join me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Though uncertain, Darcy thought he heard a chuckle as the man left the room. A short time later, Fitz entered.

  “Kite appears highly amused; do you know the source?”

  Having just finished balancing the page before him, Darcy inserted a piece of scrap paper and closed the book. “Lady Catherine has requested my presence.”

  The Colonel shook his head. “It is rather soon for her to press her point, but you have made it clear you intend to leave earlier than planned. I suppose you have forced her to move her agenda forward.”

  Darcy stood, straightened his sleeves, and put on his coat. “You will have my back as always?”

  “Need you ask?” Fitz patted his hip. “Damn, I left my sword in my room. Have I time to retrieve it?”

  Chuckling, Darcy shook his head and clapped his cousin on the shoulder. “Your razor-sharp wit should suffice to-day.”

  The cousins found Kite standing in the hallway just outside the parlour as they approached. He did not announce them, but simply bowed as they passed and motioned for the door to be closed behind them. They expected he would remain near enough to hear what transpired and hoped they could bring him some small enjoyment. The old man seemed to delight in his mistress’s disappointments.

  “Fitzwilliam, why are you here?” Lady Catherine demanded.

  “Forgive me, Aunt, I had not realized I was excluded.” He took a seat by Anne. “I thought we were to take tea or some refreshments befo
re our ride. Had you other reasons to ask Darcy here?”

  Anne handed him a plate and he began picking bits of cold meat and cheese from the ladies’ luncheon tray. Lady Catherine continued to frown at him.

  “You wished to see me, Aunt?” Darcy bowed before her.

  Her lips pursed as she threw one last disgusted look at the Colonel before turning her full attention on Darcy. “I am requesting Mr. Collins read the banns this Sunday.”

  “For whom?” he asked in a calm voice as he accepted a plate from Anne and began to fill it.

  Lady Catherine sputtered. “For you and Anne, of course. It has been far too long. You must marry.”

  Having filled his plate, Darcy took a seat to his aunt’s left, opposite his cousins. “As you well know, Lady Catherine, Anne and I have no desire to marry.” He took a bite and leaned back in his chair.

  “It is your duty,” she flashed a menacing glare toward her daughter, “both of you. Since you were in your cradles, you were promised, and you have avoided it long enough. Darcy, you need an heir. It is high time you wed. Anne’s health has improved …”

  “Not enough to survive childbirth.” Darcy set his plate aside. “Even if I wished to marry Anne, I would not be so heartless as to endanger her life in such a manner.” He wiped his hands on a serviette from the tray and stood. “I will be ready to ride out in half an hour. Is that sufficient time for you, Anne?”

  “Yes, Darcy.” Anne and Fitz both stood. “I will meet you outside.”

  After Anne had left the room, the gentlemen turned their attention toward their aunt. Darcy clasped his hands behind his back; Fitz mimicked his stance.

  Lady Catherine sneered at them. “Am I to be intimidated?”

  “No, Aunt.” Darcy shook his head. “Though I believe it is time we spoke of Anne’s birthday.”

  Her features fell. “Her birthday?”

  Fitz nodded. “Yes. My father said the most curious thing last year. After Anne turned three-and-twenty, he mentioned that she had only two more years before she would come into her inheritance.”