by Jann Rowland
“I am certain he does,” replied Elizabeth. “But I am also convinced that he does not venture beyond Bond Street for his personal requirements. No doubt he employs others to barter for goods required by his estate.”
“Then he must be cheated by everyone who works for him,” replied Charlotte with a laugh. “To give a servant so much autonomy would invite it.”
“Surely not!” cried Elizabeth. “I imagine the infamous Darcy stare of contempt would quell any such thoughts before they had even formed!”
Charlotte laughed they continued bantering, though the subject of their words changed. Soon Maria fell back to join them and they continued in this way until they arrived in the town. There, Charlotte visited several shops, arranging for certain items required at the parsonage to be delivered, all in accordance with Lady Catherine’s decrees concerning quality and quantity. Elizabeth shook her head in wonder; it truly must be onerous for Charlotte to live under the shadow of another who was so intent upon managing her house in her stead!
When Elizabeth had made this playful observation, Charlotte only directed a rueful smile at her. “In fact, Lady Catherine does dispense some useful advice. When I was newly married, there were times when I was not certain how much beef I should purchase, for example, and her assistance helped me gain the experience I required.”
“Lady Catherine actually knows how much beef to procure?” asked Elizabeth, feigning astonishment.
“I would certainly never subscribe to the theory that Lady Catherine is all-knowing, as my husband so often does, but she is far from senseless. As you likely already understand, there are times when it is . . . beneficial for me to follow her advice. There are other times, however, when I may safely ignore her, if I believe her to be in error. Though I might not always do everything she specifies, rarely is she completely wrong.”
“I am all astonishment! I would not have thought Lady Catherine anything other than a busybody with little actual knowledge.” Elizabeth directed a sly smile at Charlotte. “Unless, of course, you believe her when she says she would have been a true proficient if she had only troubled herself to learn to play the pianoforte.”
The two friends laughed together. “You must own that her advice regarding the necessity of constant practice is good, Lizzy.”
“Perhaps it is. But I do not consider it to be particularly profound.”
“I cannot disagree. But since I do not play, I may safely ignore her words on the matter, and if she insists on waxing eloquent on what might have been, it costs me little to smile and nod where appropriate.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I am happy to hear it, Charlotte. I am certain you have much more patience when confronted with such silliness than I would in your stead.”
“Which is why it was for the best that you refused him.”
It was only the truth, and Elizabeth was quick to acknowledge it. They completed Charlotte’s errands, and Elizabeth, in watching her friend, was forced to concede that Charlotte seemed quite content with her situation, as she had intimated when Elizabeth had first come to Kent. Mrs. Bennet might have been appalled at the thought of her own daughter being in a position which required her to make her own purchases for her family, or having no more than a maid and a cook in her house—never mind how she had attempted to force Elizabeth herself into such a circumstance. But in the Collins’s situation, Elizabeth knew it was necessary at present, and Charlotte had certainly not been raised so high as to feel disgust over the necessity of doing her own shopping. When she eventually became the mistress of Longbourn, Charlotte would be able to afford being a little prouder and avoid those tasks the wife of a gentleman might find beneath her.
Their final stop was at a shop which sold various fresh produce, at which Charlotte made a few purchases of items which were not grown in Mr. Collins’s garden or in the glebe, and they departed with a basket of fruit in Elizabeth’s hand. The three ladies stopped for a moment to confer, and they eventually decided they would proceed home, rather than indulge in any of the other shops. Charlotte’s situation, of course, did not permit the expenditure of their funds on frivolous items, and Elizabeth had no particular desire to purchase a ribbon or a bonnet.
While they stood in that attitude they were hailed by an acquaintance, and it was all Elizabeth could do to suppress a sigh at the man’s appearance.
“Mrs. Collins, Miss Bennet, Miss Lucas,” said Mr. Darcy as he strode up to them and executed a perfect bow. “How are you this fine day?”
“Very well, thank you,” said Charlotte.
“It is a surprise to see you here, sir,” said Elizabeth, not quite able to prevent herself from speaking. “I might have thought you would be touring your aunt’s estate.”
“I had business in the village,” said Mr. Darcy, showing no visible reaction to the understated asperity in Elizabeth’s tone. “The heel on a pair of my boots had come loose, and I brought them to the cobbler here, who does fine work.”
“Yes, Mr. Robbins does excellent work,” said Charlotte, shooting a quelling glare at Elizabeth. “We were just arranging for some goods for the parsonage for the coming week. Your aunt is very kind to assist in determining what is required. I dare say she has had many years of seeing to the welfare of those who live here to guide her.”
The face Mr. Darcy made suggested he was aware of his aunt’s fondness for being of use, but his reply was all cordiality. “Mr. Collins’s predecessor was a single man, but yes, she has overseen families at the parsonage. I am sure she understands your needs very well.”
The two spoke on for several moments, Elizabeth and Maria looking on. Maria watched in the manner of someone who wished to decipher some puzzle, but as Elizabeth had often seen the girl watching Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy when they were in company, she ignored her. Should Maria remained silent about any suspicions she possessed, Elizabeth would be content to allow her to see what she would see.
After speaking for some moments, Charlotte curtseyed to Mr. Darcy, and said: “I thank you for stopping to speak with us, Mr. Darcy, but I believe it is time we made our way back to the parsonage.”
“Then allow me to escort you,” replied Mr. Darcy with a returning bow.
“That truly is not necessary, sir,” said Elizabeth, her exasperation rising apace. What did the man mean by behaving in such a manner? “We are quite able to return to the parsonage without an escort. You must have some pressing business to attend to in your aunt’s stead?”
“I assure you that I am quite at my leisure at present, Miss Bennet,” replied Mr. Darcy. “I would be very happy to accompany you. If you will allow me?”
In saying so, Mr. Darcy divested Elizabeth of the basket she was carrying, with a deftness which surprised Elizabeth, and had her wondering how he had managed to take it from her with so little effort. And then, with Charlotte’s willing company, he began to walk toward the edge of the town, and the parsonage beyond.
“I do not know your opinion,” said Maria, as she and Elizabeth followed them, “but it seems to me that Mr. Darcy is now not nearly as disagreeable as he was in Hertfordshire.”
“Oh?” asked Elizabeth, still in the midst of her pique at his appearance and his insistence on joining them. “I must confess I find him as infuriating as ever. Only now we must contend with his aunt’s officiousness in addition to Mr. Darcy’s arrogance.”
Maria only looked at Elizabeth, apparently sensing that any attempt to excuse Mr. Darcy would not be met with a positive response, and since she was quite in awe of Lady Catherine and could not disparage the great lady if she tried, there was truly nothing for her to say. But beneath her hesitance, Elizabeth thought she recognized a hint of suspicion in Maria’s manner.
It was some time later—and Elizabeth, caught up in her annoyance as she was, could not quite understand how it had occurred—when Elizabeth found Mr. Darcy walking beside her. Blinking, she noticed that Maria was now walking ahead with her sister, though the looks she directed back at Elizabeth bespoke an
amusement which almost infuriated her.
“You have been quiet, Miss Bennet,” observed Mr. Darcy, as soon as he noticed Elizabeth’s preoccupation. “I hope there is nothing weighing heavily on your mind. Everyone at Longbourn is well, I trust?”
Suppressing the urge to snap back at him—she did not expect that he truly cared after all—Elizabeth could only say: “My family is all well, Mr. Darcy, though they are not all at Longbourn. My sister, Jane, has actually been in London since early in the New Year.”
If Elizabeth thought the man would betray any reaction to the news, she was destined to be disappointed, as he only looked on her with interest. “I assume she is staying with the relations of whom you have spoken?”
“Yes. The Gardiners are my aunt and uncle, Mr. Darcy; Mr. Gardiner is my mother’s brother.”
This time, Elizabeth thought she sensed a hint of distaste around the man’s mouth, though he made no overt reaction. Elizabeth was angry all over again; she found her mother to be a trial, it was true, but the Gardiners were two of the most sensible people she had ever met. In her pique, she continued to speak, when it perhaps would have been best to remain silent.
“I understand you have been in London yourself, these past months. I am surprised that you have never chanced to see Jane, as I know for a fact that she visited Mr. Bingley’s sisters, though they were rather derelict in returning the favor.”
If the man was one thing, Elizabeth was forced to concede he was inscrutable. Though she suspected his involvement with Mr. Bingley’s sisters, there was no response to her sally.
“I did not have the good fortune to meet with Miss Bennet in London,” said Mr. Darcy. “In the future, however, I hope to have the opportunity. She struck me as an intelligent woman, one self-effacing and everything good.”
“Jane is an angel, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth. “I cannot think there is anyone who would disapprove of her.”
Those words somehow pierced Mr. Darcy’s reserve, and he started a little in surprise. Elizabeth was not certain why—she had not actually intended to provoke him with that statement. Surely the man could not look down on Jane too!
The rest of the walk to the parsonage was accomplished in silence, though Mr. Darcy did assay to make a comment or two. Elizabeth responded in a like fashion, which is to say, not at all. While she wondered at his reaction and could not fathom how she had been able to silence the man, she rejoiced to see the return of the taciturn, unsociable man with whom she had been acquainted in Hertfordshire. If only she could discover how to avoid him altogether!
When they reached the parsonage, Mr. Darcy said his farewells, much to the relief of Elizabeth, who had wondered if he would insist upon accompanying them inside. With the basket once more in her hands, Elizabeth followed her friends into the house and, after handing it to the maid, returned to her room to refresh herself before once again descending to Charlotte’s parlor.
“Well, Lizzy,” said Charlotte as she stepped into the room, “it seems to me that Mr. Darcy is seeking out your company quite frequently. How can you account for this behavior?”
“I am sure it is nothing,” replied Elizabeth, once again annoyed that the subject of Mr. Darcy was being raised to bedevil her. “I would appreciate it if you would avoid this subject, Charlotte. I am certain the man is only bored, and I am not convinced that today’s meeting was anything other than chance. Do not give your sister any reason to speak of it, for I would not wish for any rumors to make their way back to Lady Catherine.”
“Then I shall not tease you,” said Charlotte, though her countenance still bespoke her amusement.
“It is nothing,” replied Elizabeth, happy to have the subject deflected for the time being.
It sounded suspiciously like Charlotte said “You may believe that, if it brings you comfort” under her breath, but Elizabeth was content to ignore her. She had spent far too much time already considering Mr. Darcy.
Chapter VII
Whether it was good fortune, or the man had finally understood her disinclination for his company, Elizabeth was not certain, but the next day she was relieved to be free of Mr. Darcy. They were to attend dinner at Rosings that evening, but at least her walk was free of the man that morning. It was, however, interrupted by another, though one not nearly so objectionable.
She was walking along a wide avenue on the grounds, and one through which she had a fine view of the house, when she heard herself hailed from behind. When she turned, she noticed Colonel Fitzwilliam approaching her at a fast walk, a smile of greeting on his congenial face.
“Miss Bennet!” called he, striding up and bowing to her. “I am happy to have met you today, for a little company would be welcome.”
“I did not know you walked the estate, colonel,” replied Elizabeth, feeling a playful easiness in his company.
“I take a tour of it every year,” said the colonel. Then he laughed. “In fact, I much prefer to leave the business, dusty ledgers, and all other assorted tedious tasks to Darcy while I survey what needs to be done for the fields and tenants.”
“And Mr. Darcy does not do these things?” asked Elizabeth, thinking of the many times she had met him on the grounds.
“Of course he does,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam with a wink. “But being in the army, I fancy myself a man of action, not one of books and management. You must allow me to keep these little idiosyncrasies, else all my carefully kept illusions will fall to dust.”
Elizabeth laughed. “It seems like you manage to keep your illusions very well yourself.”
The colonel laughed with her. “Shall we take this way together, Miss Bennet?”
Nodding, Elizabeth turned and walked with him for a time, reflecting that she would like Mr. Darcy better if he was his cousin. The thought of the infuriating man, however, caused Elizabeth’s lip to curl with distaste, before she schooled her expression lest the colonel wonder as to its cause. She did not wish to think of Mr. Darcy, so she focused on her companion.
Their conversation as they walked was light and easy, focusing on playful repartee and inconsequential subjects, yet Elizabeth was diverted for all that. He was an intelligent man, and he was amiable and in possession of seemingly every virtue. But he had never given her any reason to suspect attentions which were anything out of the common way—certainly never anything which would give rise to any suspicions of partiality—so Elizabeth was able to enjoy his company.
At least, she enjoyed his company until the subject of his cousin came up. How utterly infuriating that the man should intrude upon her senses even when he was not present!
“I understand your visit is coming to a close, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” said Elizabeth after they had walked for some time.
“If Darcy does not delay our departure,” replied the colonel. “We have already stayed longer than we usually would.”
“You are at Mr. Darcy’s beck and call?” asked Elizabeth, almost unwillingly.
“No,” replied the colonel with a laugh. “I am quite at my leisure, and I rather enjoy being away from town, which is where I would be, if I was not here. In fact, Darcy and I both appreciate the opportunity to spend more time with my cousin. Anne is usually here with naught but her mother’s company, and I am certain you can understand that is more than a little dull.”
“Then she should go to town with you,” replied Elizabeth, eager to leave the subject of Mr. Darcy behind. “I am sure she would enjoy the change of scene and society.”
“Perhaps she would. But the difficulty is convincing Aunt Catherine, though I am hopeful that will happen soon.”
Elizabeth was intrigued by the colonel’s words, but she did not deem it proper to ask further, so she allowed the matter to drop.
“But back to your other assertion,” continued Colonel Fitzwilliam, “Darcy is, indeed, his own master, and he is adept at having his own way. We are very close and have been since childhood, and our opinions are often in agreement. We are still at Rosings as we have both agreed
it is best to stay here for the nonce. That will change at some point, but at present, I do not know when.”
“I did not mean any disrespect, Colonel,” said Elizabeth, wondering if she had said too much.
A smile was the colonel’s response. “I know you did not, Miss Bennet. But while you would be correct that many men of Darcy’s station would order their lives and their movements without any concern over those whom they affect, Darcy is not one of them. In fact, Darcy is a conscientious master, and a good friend, and I am prodigiously proud to have him as a cousin. There is nothing he would not do for those he deems his friends.”
Of course, if you do not fall in that expansive category, you are less than nothing to Mr. Darcy, thought Elizabeth with some asperity. Certainly Mr. Wickham had felt that other side of Mr. Darcy’s character, and Elizabeth herself had experienced the man’s towering pride and active disdain.
“In fact,” continued the colonel, oblivious to the turn Elizabeth’s thoughts had taken, “he numbers among his friends those who many would not even recognize. I am certain you are familiar with Mr. Bingley and his sisters?”
“Oh, yes I am,” replied Elizabeth. “Mr. Bingley seems to be a great friend of Mr. Darcy. It seems odd, to be truthful, as their characters are much different.”
The colonel eyed her for a moment before he nodded. “Their characters are quite different, but you must confess that mine is much different from Darcy’s too.”
Elizabeth allowed it to be so, and the colonel continued: “Most of those of our circle do not wonder at their different characters. Most show their disdain because of Bingley’s roots in trade and the fact that he is deemed to be ‘new money.’ Bingley’s status at present is solely dependent upon Darcy’s friendship, and though he would not be a complete pariah if that friendship were ever severed, still he would suffer.”