“Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy. “My aunt has given me the task of guiding the tour. I know you would wish to see the library but am uncertain about the rest of the guests. Do you think we ought to start or end the tour there?”
Elizabeth looked at him carefully. She had been accused of being a “great reader,” said in an insulting tone by Miss Bingley, while she stayed at Netherfield. Elizabeth had tried to demur, knowing Society’s opinion on well-educated women, but then Mr. Darcy had turned the matter around on her and claimed he believed an accomplished lady improved her mind by extensive reading. Elizabeth had assumed he said it only so she might be found insufficient whether she enjoyed reading or not. Now, knowing that she was wrong to trust Mr. Wickham and hearing the conversation of a relation Darcy apparently admired, she thought better of it. He intended no insult; it was only her own insecurities which made her read tones into his voice he did not inflect.
Yet still, a part of her wondered if Mr. Darcy meant because her uncle was in trade he would not enjoy the library. She raised her chin. “If I consulted only my own feelings we would never leave. My aunt and uncle enjoy reading, and Jane does as well. I believe ending the tour there would be pleasurable to all.”
Darcy looked immediately relieved, and Elizabeth castigated herself that she had assumed the worse about him, again. “I have enjoyed getting to know your aunt and uncle,” he said.
It looked as though he wished to say more, but the others were ready for the tour to begin. He spoke well on the curiosities in each room and knew the history of the house. His aunt sometimes supplied entertaining anecdotes. Having been through the principal drawing rooms of the first floor, the group made their way downstairs. Here they stopped at a small conservatory, a recent addition as smaller gardens were becoming the fashion.
As Lady Darcy treated her assembled guests to a horticulture lesson on a breed of orchid, Maria finally felt bold enough to speak. “It is a funny looking flower. So different than the usual roses you see often displayed.”
“This is true,” her ladyship replied. “However, I think they are increasing in popularity. I would not be surprised if some of the other great houses of England specialise in growing them.”
“We may see them on our summer tour then,” Mr. Gardiner said.
“I do not think they could ever become the favourites of Society the way tulips were,” Sir William added.
So began a discourse on the fascinating history of tulips in the Low Countries. Lady Darcy included information she had read in the original Dutch and promised to show them a copy of a portrait she had. Maria and Miss Darcy were attentive listeners but, having read such before, Elizabeth moved about the room. Mr. Darcy silently came to her side.
“Some would think the history lesson holds no interest to you,” he said.
“Do you come all this way to scold me or to tease me?” she asked.
“I do not dare do either. I daresay you are the proficient at teasing,” he offered a small smile.
Elizabeth laughed. “How impolitic of you! Leaving me to say you must be the proficient at scolding!”
“I am the guardian of a much younger sister,” he said.
“She does not seem the sort to need much scolding. My sisters on the other hand…” she trailed off. Should she take the opportunity to ask about Wickham? She chewed her bottom lip before deciding. “I am glad to have a moment of privacy with you, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and then lowered with a mixture of pleasure and satisfaction settling upon his face. “Is that so Miss Bennet?”
“Yes, I would speak with you on a matter of some delicacy.”
Darcy’s breathing grew harsher, which confused her as they did not move. He remained silent, so she pressed on, “Actually, I owe you an apology, sir. At the Netherfield Ball, I all but accused you of harming Mr. Wickham.”
She blushed and looked down before adding, “I am sorry to say I believed many tales he spun about you and has been telling the neighbourhood for many weeks now.”
Taking a cleansing, steadying breath, Elizabeth paused again for a moment. “But I have recently learned he is not a gentleman and not to be trusted.”
She glanced up to see a look of extreme displeasure upon Darcy’s face. At long last, he managed to inquire, “Has he harmed you in some way, Miss Bennet?”
“No!” A heavy silence remained between them, and she felt Darcy’s unspoken interrogation. “I take it by your response, though, you believe him capable of doing harm? Such as blackmail and extortion?”
“Along with gambling, cheating and lying, those are among his favourite activities. Have you heard him plan to blackmail someone?”
Elizabeth hardly knew how to reply but was certain Darcy would know if she completely disassembled. “I only overheard him planning to extort money from someone he knew well.”
He furrowed his brow. “You are certain that is all you heard?”
She chose not to answer. “Is he truly capable of following through in his schemes? He seems to lack a sense of industry and if he has invented this false tale of your dealings then might his imagination run a bit too fanciful?”
“Oh, I assure you he is perfectly capable of plotting.”
A chill ran up Elizabeth’s spine at Darcy’s words.
“Fitzwilliam, while I can well understand being distracted by the enchanting Miss Elizabeth, you are doing a very poor job of your duties,” Lady Darcy called from the doorway before leading the other guests from the room.
Elizabeth blushed, and Mr. Darcy also looked embarrassed. After clearing his throat, he spoke. “I am unable to explain my knowledge in more detail at this moment. I could call on your uncle tomorrow, before you leave, and explain matters to you both.”
“That will not be necessary. I will pass along the information to the appropriate party,” she quickly said. She could not fathom how he intended to have a private conversation with her and her uncle without rousing the interest of Sir William Lucas.
He looked at her intently. “You are certain he has not threatened you in any way? Should you ever need to speak about him, I hope you know to trust me. Her ladyship was correct last night. I will be journeying to Rosings in just over a fortnight. We will meet again soon, should you then feel the need to tell me more. Until then, if you or your family ever need my assistance, Lady Darcy always knows the best means to contact me.”
Elizabeth mutely nodded and followed Darcy to her ladyship’s library. She could not fathom why Mr. Darcy was so attentive to her.
Despite his kind words, Elizabeth found very little sleep that night. She wondered again and again if she ought to say something to her uncle or if she should have told her father. Writing to him would be nearly useless, as not only was he a terrible correspondent, he could not be relied upon to even read her letters. Elizabeth could not forget, however, that Darcy had a feud with Wickham and had just as much reason to lie as the other man had. Dark circles shadowed her eyes when she awoke late the next morning. Her uncle had already left for his office but she had determined Wickham’s words were merely idle boasting. If nothing else, how would they ever pay for the cost of an elopement? Elizabeth was hugged affectionately by her sister and aunt. Sadly, her little cousins had not come downstairs as they were suffering from a cold.
My Darling Niece,
You must not let the words of some prejudiced and vain people make you feel insecure. All who know you understand your worth. I would charge you to continue your daily reading and do not dwell on such negative thoughts.
Yours always,
A.F.
Chapter Three
“Eliza!” Charlotte said and embraced her friend tightly after greeting her family. “I am so pleased you came!”
“Thank you for the invitation!” Elizabeth returned the hug. “Three months without Jane, and seeing Kitty and Lydia run senselessly after officers, was more than I could bear!”
Charlotte laughed, and it seeme
d some of their earlier closeness was restored. However, as Mr. Collins approached Elizabeth, she had to wonder, again, how her best friend could have concealed such an artful heart. As Charlotte suddenly busied herself with talking louder than before with her father about the pathway to the house, Elizabeth perceived Charlotte was not as happy as she would pretend. For herself, Elizabeth always knew she would be in danger if she married for anything less than the greatest respect for a man, and he for her.
“Dear Cousin Elizabeth!” Mr. Collins hailed as he toddled closer to her. “Welcome to our home. In a moment, you can refresh yourself after your tiresome journey. I know how delicate young ladies are.” He opened the gate to come even closer. “Forgive me for not being out earlier, but I had abandoned my post of watching by the window to deal with a matter regarding our gardens. Very elegant gardens — you will see them later.”
“I would be most pleased —”
He interrupted her. “And how are your family? Your father is well?” He then brought his hands to his mouth steepled like a prayer. “Not that I am asking in hopes of finding him in deteriorating condition. Never think that I am anxious to see his demise and become master.”
“Rest easy, cousin. I would not think—”
“Of course, when that most unfortunate event does take place, you will always have a place with us as my dear Charlotte is your friend.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said without the intention of saying more. She did not need to wonder why Mr. Collins believed she would need housing and protection like a pitiful spinster. In his proposal to her, he had argued she would never have another offer.
After pausing and apparently expecting Elizabeth to prostrate herself on his intended future kindness, he frowned. Charlotte and the others moved toward the house, and Mr. Collins followed. He resumed speaking, now and then looking over his shoulder to confirm Elizabeth followed like a dog at his heels.
“And your mother and sisters are well? I trust Mrs. Bennet’s nerves have not consumed her too much since my marriage. Although Mrs. Collins’ letters from her family sometimes indicate there is much to vex your mother.”
Before Elizabeth could answer his question, he began speaking again. “Your sisters enjoy good health, although I wonder if such liveliness does not come with its own cost. It is hardly worthwhile to never be ill but have your soul in mortal danger.”
“Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth bit out. How dare he insinuate that her sisters were at risk of hell. She may not like their behaviour all the time, but they were not godless sinners!
“Mr. Collins, my father would like refreshments,” Charlotte quickly interjected and cast an apologetic look at Elizabeth.
“Oh, certainly, certainly! Well, Sir William,” the parson lumbered up the walk to his fatherin-law.
“Charlotte, how shall I ever live without your timely rescues?” Elizabeth asked, and her friend gave her a tight smile. A faint blush swept over Elizabeth. She should recall that Charlotte would not appreciate her poking fun at her husband.
Once inside the house, Mr. Collins again welcomed them. Tea was brought in, and although Charlotte saw to everyone, her husband echoed every request she made. In between bites of biscuits, he would point out various pieces of furniture, their cost and how he came by them. More than once he addressed Elizabeth by name to single out her reaction to the proportion of the room and any other means of making her regret her refusal. Elizabeth blushed for Charlotte’s sake but took secret delight in knowing that she could not fulfil his fondest wishes. Everything seemed neat and tidy, no doubt due to Charlotte, but even with all the simple luxuries the parsonage afforded, she could never regret not marrying such a ridiculous man.
Finally, it was recommended they see the garden. Mr. Collins excitedly herded them outside and whisked his fatherin-law about.
“I encourage him to work in the garden as much as possible,” Charlotte said at Elizabeth’s side. “It is so beneficial to his health,” she managed to say without a smirk or sigh.
“Indeed,” Elizabeth offered, quite at a loss of what else to say.
Next, he desired to show them his two pastures, but the ladies did not have the proper shoes and they returned to the house while the gentlemen stayed outside. Charlotte led them to a small parlour in the back of the house. At first, Elizabeth was surprised her friend had not chosen the larger room for herself but recollected that Mr. Collins’ office had windows facing the road. He would forever be lurking and waiting for the admittance of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, so the smaller back parlour had its advantages.
Of her, Elizabeth thought with a brief smile. Mr. Wickham had shared many humorous stories about the old lady and how much her nephew was like her. However, remembering his story recalled only his degenerate words and actions in the alley and Mr. Darcy’s visceral reaction to hearing of his schemes.
“Eliza,” Charlotte interrupted her thoughts. “I do not think you heard me. It is unlike you to not offer an opinion on what I just said.”
“Oh, yes!” Maria said excitedly from beside her. “I know you cannot like him, but I only hope to hear all the hateful things you have to say about him.”
“About who?” Elizabeth rapidly blinked her eyes and shook her head to dispel her previous thoughts.
“Mr. Darcy will be visiting his aunt for Easter,” Charlotte said.
“As it happens, I already knew,” Elizabeth said with assumed nonchalance.
“What?” the Lucas sisters cried in unison.
“Yes, he told me the other evening.” Elizabeth sipped her tea.
“You saw him the other evening!” Charlotte cried.
“And yesterday,” Maria leant forward to tell her sister. “He spent many minutes speaking with her alone both times.”
Charlotte gaped at her friend. “Is this true, Eliza? He must be in love with you!”
“Maria makes too much of it,” Elizabeth said as she shook her head. “I was separated from our party at the theatre and accidentally ran into him. The others in our party approached just as his aunt did and she invited us all to her home. I am certain she was only extremely polite. Mr. Darcy did not speak with her at all to indicate a desire to spend more time with us. He never would, you know.”
“And he would never ask you to dance either,” Charlotte said with a raised eyebrow.
Elizabeth hoped her friend would not talk about the subject in front of her husband. “As to his visiting his aunt here,” Elizabeth ignored her friend’s hint. “There is no reason to believe it was not his usual time of year to visit. Rosings is quite convenient to London over the Easter holiday. A man may come and go as he pleases without young ladies fancying it is because he loves them.”
Even as she said it, she rather wished ladies had the freedom men did, and they could come and go as they pleased. Eventually, Charlotte and Maria worked on some embroidery while Elizabeth pulled out her sketch book.
“Have you drawn anything new?” Charlotte asked and peered over Elizabeth’s side.
“Oh, I am forever re-imagining Longbourn,” Elizabeth sighed.
“I would be eager to see what the parsonage could look like,” her friend said.
“Really?” Elizabeth asked hoping to conceal her disbelief. Would Lady Catherine allow alterations?
“Indeed. Her Ladyship is often saying it could benefit a more substantial remodel.”
Elizabeth troubled her lower lip. She had every expectation that Rosings was a very modern building and Elizabeth favoured an older style. “The wattle and daub timber framing of the house would look garish when matched with the contemporary propensity for Palladian symmetry and stone work.”
Charlotte nodded. “That is why I think you could draw up sufficient plans to show Her Ladyship.”
Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders and agreed. However, she thought to herself that when she married she would rather have more freedom to choose matters of her life, not have to satisfy a patroness’s whims. The Collinses did not have a lease, nor
pay rent for their house, but had little say in matters which must be quite disagreeable. And of course, Lady Catherine had opinions about matters large and small.
The following day, Elizabeth readied herself for a walk when Maria flew up the stairs telling her to look out the window.
“Why, it is only Lady Catherine and her daughter. You gave me a fright!” Elizabeth admonished the younger lady.
“La! ‘Tis not Lady Catherine. That is Mrs. Jenkinson, Miss de Bourgh’s companion.”
“They ought to come inside. How rude of them to keep Charlotte out of doors in this wind.”
Never mind that she had planned on walking in the mild breeze only a moment ago. She could not bear to think of the ladies of Rosings with any charity at all. Nor did she care to wonder why she presumed the worst.
“Charlotte says they rarely come in. It is the greatest honour when Miss de Bourgh enters the house.”
Elizabeth took a moment to evaluate Miss de Bourgh. She knew from Wickham that the lady was Mr. Darcy’s intended. Of course, they must keep all the wealth and estates in the family. Beyond that, she saw only a frail, sick looking woman.
“She will do very well for him, so sickly and cross.”
“Do for who?” Maria asked.
Elizabeth’s eyebrows jumped to her hairline. She had not meant to say her thoughts out loud. “Oh, not to worry. I simply remembered a book I read.”
Elizabeth contained her laughter as she saw her cousin bow whenever Miss de Bourgh looked his way. At length, the ladies rode away, and Charlotte and her husband returned indoors. The hefty parson defied the laws of gravity by bouncing on his toes.
“What good fortune! What good fortune!”
“What?” Maria asked, catching her brother-in-law’s excitement.
Elizabeth cringed but checked her mouth lest she hurt Charlotte.
“Lady Catherine, with such amazing condescension, has invited you both and Sir William to dine at Rosings Park tomorrow evening. To dine.”
Mr. Darcy's Bluestocking Bride Page 3