by Jann Rowland
“And given what I know of how the marriage came about, I suspect that if the details are ultimately made known to society, your father and Mr. Collins will receive the lion’s share of the derision, given how they have behaved in the affair.
“Besides, I despise society and its pretensions.” This last, he said with nearly a growl. “If society should shun us, then it would not cause me a moment’s concern. We may retire to Pemberley and live out our lives in peace.”
Though it sounded heavenly, Elizabeth was still concerned. “But what of our children, should we be blessed with them? They will need our good name in society for when they are grown themselves.”
“That is true,” acknowledged Mr. Darcy, “but by then, the matter will be long forgotten, for some other delicious scandal will have reached the attention of London’s wagging tongues. Besides, I tend to choose friends that view London society in the same manner as I do. I am certain most of those friends will stand by me, so we have little to fear.”
Elizabeth hoped, rather than believed, it would be thus, but she made no further mention of the subject. “Then I will leave the annulment to you. I will deal with Mr. Collins and ensure the man does not lay so much as a finger on me, and you shall work on having the marriage annulled.”
“We shall conquer this, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy, stopping and turning to gaze at her. “We must simply be patient.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth paused, looking at him through eyes which were quickly misting with emotion. After all she had been through these past months, it was comforting to have a man nearby who wished for nothing more than her happiness.
“I wanted to say that . . . that I am grateful for your constancy, Mr. Darcy.” She smiled and blushed a little before forging on. “I cannot say how our courtship will turn out, but I find myself anticipating the opportunity to know you better. I say this not because of my thankfulness, but because I believe you are the best man of my acquaintance.” She flashed him an impish grin. “I am certain you will acquit yourself as a suitor most admirably.”
“And I long for the opportunity to show my devotion,” was Mr. Darcy’s quiet reply. “It is ironic that some of our courting period shall pass while you are at least nominally married to another man.”
“Ironic indeed!” said Elizabeth.
Elizabeth reached into her pocket and produced a letter to the Gardiners. “I wrote to my uncle the morning before my father dragged me off to church, but my father prevented me from sending it. I wrote a new letter based on my changed circumstances this morning, hoping I would be able to post it. Will you see to its posting, Mr. Darcy?”
“I will send it express, Miss Bennet,” replied Mr. Darcy, taking the letter from her hand. “When he learns of these events, I do not doubt that Mr. Gardiner will return from Ireland post haste. He may even arrive before Christmas if he hastens enough.”
“I hope that is the case. But I truly must be going.”
“Of course,” said Mr. Darcy, bowing to her. “Please let me know if there is anything you require. Should you dispatch a note to me, I will come immediately, regardless of the circumstance.”
It took no greatness of thought to note that Mr. Darcy was concerned that Mr. Collins would demand his rights. Elizabeth was warmed by his desire to keep her safe, but she knew that Mr. Collins, ineffectual and stupid as he was, was no match for her.
“Thank you.” Though her reply was quiet, she was certain that Mr. Darcy heard it and could feel the emotion behind it.
There was nothing further to be done than to return to the parsonage, and after curtseying to Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth departed. But it was as if some invisible bond stretched between them, calling to her and inducing her to look back at him several times as she made her way back toward Hunsford. And every time she looked back, he still stood there, a tall statue of a Greek god, watching as she walked away. In that moment, Elizabeth thought that her feelings for Mr. Darcy were becoming very strong indeed. It would not be long, she sensed, before she was able to say that she loved him.
Which made the current situation even more pitiable. She could not fathom what she would do if the church would not hear her pleas, but the thought of being chained to William Collins for the rest of her life was unbearable. Not when she was rapidly coming to know what it was to care deeply about Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Chapter XIX
As expected, Elizabeth was subjected to Mr. Collins’s displeasure on her return to the parsonage. He expressed his feelings in a way which was long and rambling and centered about the idea that he did not think it proper for her to be wandering country lanes alone. Elizabeth was certain the man did not consider it to be proper because he believed it infringed upon his authority as head of his house.
“In summary, Mrs. Collins,” said he as his long-winded discourse lurched and stumbled to a halt, “you must understand that a man in my position cannot tolerate a wife who is constantly plodding through the countryside, her hair wild and her clothing tossed to and fro in the wind. If you feel you must take a constitutional, then I suggest you walk in the garden behind the house. In that way, you will always be in close proximity should I have need of you, and you will in no way be behaving in a manner which is unseemly. It is to your credit that you wish to keep yourself young and attractive for your husband by partaking in the benefits of constant exercise,” here, he paused and turned a lascivious smirk on her which she barely managed to refrain from removing from his face by means of a hard slap, “but it is not necessary. My love for you has already grown by leaps and bounds, I assure you. It is now more important for you to behave as the young married woman you have become rather than as a carefree young girl. You recently resigned that estate, after all.”
His arguments completed, Mr. Collins ceased speaking and looked at her expectantly, but Elizabeth did not respond. In fact, she decided that his silly soliloquy was not worth a reply, and she steadfastly held to her purpose of not responding to his idiocies.
“Have I made myself clear?” asked Mr. Collins after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.
Elizabeth sat looking at him placidly for several more moments before she rose to her feet. “I believe I shall speak to the cook about dinner. I will inform you when it is ready.”
For the briefest of moments, Mr. Collins appeared confused by her sudden non sequitur, but he quickly recovered and favored her with an unctuous smile. “Of course, my dear. I shall await your summons to the dining room.”
Then, with a leer, which he no doubt intended to be flirtatious, he left the room, taking the time to bow every few steps. Once he was out of her sight, Elizabeth heaved a sigh of relief. The man had obviously deduced—incorrectly—that she would obey his directives, no doubt due to her delicacy and reluctance to discuss the issue. As she was already highly anticipating meeting Mr. Darcy on her daily rambles, Elizabeth had no intention whatsoever of agreeing to so unreasonable a demand.
They were soon situated in the dining room, and while Elizabeth’s appetite was greater than it had been the day before, she still ate relatively little. Mr. Collins, on the other hand, seemed to relish every morsel which passed his lips. For once, the conversation was muted and understated, and Elizabeth, though she did not know the reason for his uncharacteristic reticence, did not question it either. Silence was said to be golden, after all, but that was most especially true when it came to William Collins.
After dinner, they retired to the drawing room, where Mr. Collins once again became voluble, but whereas his words normally consisted of whatever was passing through his mind at any given time, he seemed on this night to center upon his happiness toward their situation. Furthermore, he seemed to expect that tonight was the night when all his expectations for their felicity would come to pass.
As was her habit, Elizabeth allowed the man to drone on for some time without making any response while she concentrated on thinking of Mr. Darcy and how he had looked so very handsome that day when they had met.
But this time, Mr. Collins did not continue on interminably. Instead, he paused after speaking for some time and then turned to her and said:
“Perhaps it is time that we retired, Mrs. Collins. I find that I am eager to start our married life in earnest. Shall I come to you in thirty minutes?”
Though she knew exactly to what he referred, Elizabeth decided a little ingenuous behavior was in order.
“For what purpose, Mr. Collins?” said she, her brow wrinkled up in a frown of confusion. “Do you wish to read together tonight?”
“No, my dear,” was the reply. “I mean to come to you so that we may consummate our marriage. I am certain you are as eager as I, so I should not wish to keep you waiting!”
“Consummate?” echoed Elizabeth. Perhaps she was overdoing it slightly, but the man was not clever enough to detect her pretense, and she was enjoying confounding him. “I am certain you are the consummate rector in Hunsford. You do not need my approbation.”
“I was referring to the marriage act,” replied Mr. Collins. It seemed as if her manner was beginning to wear on him, as his reply was more than a little testy.
Widening her eyes in mock understanding, Elizabeth shook her head. “I am afraid that will be quite impossible, Mr. Collins.”
A frown of confusion settled over his face like night falling. “I assure you it is not, Mrs. Collins. In fact, it is not only expected of married couples, but it is also necessary to beget children. As a sheltered young lady of gentle birth, you would not have any knowledge as to what it actually entails, but it is a wondrous gift given to us by our Lord which allows us to participate in the act of creating life. There is nothing more natural and just than for two such as you and me to cleave together once we have been married.”
In fact, though Elizabeth was a sheltered young lady, she was not as bereft of knowledge as the parson thought. Though her uncle would certainly not allow her to read the type of book which would explain the matter to her in full, she was a curious and intelligent woman and was thus able to read between the lines. Besides, her aunt was a woman of decided opinions who did not hold with the idea of sending a young woman into the marriage state only to be scared half to death by learning what occurred between man and woman. She had not been explicit, but she had given Elizabeth enough information concerning what lay in store to bring her comfort should she marry, though she had left enough unsaid to leave Elizabeth an innocent.
And unfortunately for Mr. Collins, the thought of engaging in such intimate acts with him was beyond repugnant to Elizabeth.
“You are correct, Mr. Collins,” said Elizabeth slowly. “I do not know much of the matter. But I am aware of the fact that it cannot be done when a woman is suffering from her womanly indisposition.”
“In-indisposition?” echoed the parson, confusion written upon his brow.
“Surely you are aware of this?” asked Elizabeth innocently, secretly rejoicing that the parson did not know nearly as much as he thought he did. “A woman suffers from an indisposition frequently which makes what you suggest quite impossible.”
“Of what are you talking, Mrs. Collins?” demanded Mr. Collins. It was clear that he was becoming somewhat cross. Elizabeth was certain she knew just how to deflect him.
“It is somewhat . . . embarrassing,” replied she. “But there is blood involved, and it can be quite messy, you understand. I thought you knew of this.”
The parson clearly had little understanding of the matter, but it was equally obvious that the thought of blood upset him, and he pursued the matter no further. “A thousand apologies, my dear, but I had not realized what you meant. It is truly unfortunate that you have been visited by such a calamity at such an inauspicious time.” He regarded her, his air faintly radiating suspicion, before he said, “Excuse me, but how often does this indisposition intrude, and how long do you expect it to last?”
“It is difficult to say,” said Elizabeth, though she had to fight to keep the laughter at bay. “It comes without any warning, and sometimes it can stay for some time. I will be certain to inform you when it has safely passed.”
Mr. Collins nodded sagely. “It is unfortunate indeed, but I believe that I will be quite content waiting for you to be ready to receive me. Far be it for me to rail and murmur when the Lord sees fit to try my patience in such a fashion. Rather, I believe that the suspense caused by the additional wait will increase my love tenfold, and the fact that I can imagine the act will keep me quite well while we wait.”
Elizabeth looked at the man with distaste. Surely a parson should not be given over to such “imagination” as Mr. Collins suggested, and she rather thought the only suspense involved with the situation was whether she would be able to avoid laughing in the man’s face when he began spouting his inanities. She therefore simply smiled at him, though she was surprised that he was not able to detect the frostiness of her mood, which should almost have frozen him solid.
“Then it is fortunate that you have acquired such patience, Mr. Collins. I believe that I shall take my leave to retire.”
And without waiting for an answer, Elizabeth departed the room, ignoring the parson as he bowed and scraped and wished her a pleasant night, all the while expressing his happiness and his willingness to wait until she was ready. Inside, however, she was wondering how she would be able to manage to remain calm throughout the ordeal. She was ready to strangle Mr. Collins, and it was only the second day in his company!
For the next several days, Elizabeth felt that the only thing that kept her going was the knowledge that Mr. Darcy was nearby. Dealing with Mr. Collins in any fashion was exhausting, and though the man did not directly bring up the subject of their marital duties, his constant innuendo about how much he was anticipating them and the delicate compliments he seemed to believe necessary exposed to her a degree of civility entirely beyond what was endurable.
Thus, she took every opportunity to visit the woods of Rosings, and there Mr. Darcy would meet her away from prying eyes, his presence like a balm to her bruised soul. That was not to say that Mr. Collins was happy with the fact that she continued to walk great distances in defiance of his orders. On the contrary, he was as voluble concerning the matter as he had been that first day. By this time, however, Elizabeth was becoming adept at ignoring the man while appearing as if she was actually attending him. Yet every day after he had once again demanded that she avoid the activity, he appeared to be satisfied in his own mind that she would begin to obey his wishes upon the morrow.
Those times with Mr. Darcy were enough to induce Elizabeth to forget her cares for a brief moment and to immerse herself in no more weighty matters than simply coming to know the man better. They spoke of many subjects—politics, literature, and their respective childhoods, among other things—and it was not long before Elizabeth began to take the measure of the man who was so assiduously paying court to her. As for the annulment, Mr. Darcy had sent some letters which he hoped would lead him to the proper authorities, and when it was time, he would leave to see to the matter personally. Elizabeth was dreading the time when he would not be in residence, but she knew it was necessary.
Elizabeth had always known that Mr. Darcy was an intelligent man, but it was not long before she began to understand that he was even more estimable than she had suspected. They had canvassed literature previously, so Elizabeth was well aware of his capabilities there. He was also a responsible landlord, and his account of his actions with regard to his estate in the north revealed him to be a liberal master who was involved intimately with the business of his estate. Furthermore, though he was by his own admission not at his best in company, he was an ardent suitor, concerned with everything about her, including her comfort and her feelings. Underlying his words appeared to be a depth of feeling which would prove him to be an ardent lover once they were allowed to progress to the point of being able to announce their relationship openly.
It was truly unfortunate that this season of courtship should be so marred by this sh
am of a marriage which Elizabeth’s father had forced on her. As the days progressed, she found herself becoming ever angrier with her father for robbing her of the magical wonder of Mr. Darcy’s full attentions.
While they did speak of the situation at times, they restricted the subject to Elizabeth’s account of how she was dealing with Mr. Collins and Mr. Darcy’s efforts to determine how to release her from the marriage. It was an unspoken agreement that they should avoid speaking of the matter in favor of taking the opportunity to further become acquainted with one another.
Only once was this embargo broken. And while it was concerning a subject which Elizabeth would prefer not to have spoken of, she knew she owed Mr. Darcy an explanation.
“So you believe Mr. Bingley will make my sister an offer?” said Elizabeth as they were walking through Rosings’ woods the day after he had arrived in the neighborhood.
“We had that conversation just before I left,” confirmed Mr. Darcy. “Bingley is in the habit of having his head turned by a pretty face, but it does not take long for him to lose interest. As your sister has held his attention for so long, I suspect that it shall not wane.”
“Then I imagine my mother shall be in a frenzy of preparations, and they will both wish they had eloped before they finally arrive at the altar.”
A shadow passed over Mr. Darcy’s face, and Elizabeth, realizing what she had inferred, could only wish that she had held her tongue.
“Was your mother in such a state before your departure for the church, Miss Elizabeth?”