by Leenie Brown
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, Mama. You know I am not the tractable sort that a parson would need for a wife.”
Mrs. Bennet huffed. “Not being tractable is why you shall never marry,” her mother scolded. “Now, go make yourself presentable.” She turned to Jane. “Mary knows more scripture than our parson, and he gives the sermons every week. Perhaps she would be appropriate. I would not mind seeing her as mistress of Longbourn. She would keep it in good order.”
Jane guided her mother toward the sitting room. “Indeed, she would, Mama, but perhaps we should let Mr. Collins and Mary decide if the match is a good idea before we begin to plan their future.”
~*~*~
Darcy blew out a breath of relief as Mr. Collins exited the carriage in front of Longbourn.
“It was your invitation,” Richard grumbled. “He did not have to travel with us.”
Darcy grimaced. “I know. He talked more than I had thought possible.” He glanced out to where Collins was overseeing the removal of his trunk. The man pulled at his cravat and straightened his coat three times in the space of two minutes. “Nerves.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Darcy turned back to his cousin. “We must go in.”
“Must we?” Richard asked with a smirk.
“Yes, and not for the reason you think,” Darcy retorted. “At least, not entirely for the reason you think.” He moved to the door. While it was true that he wished to see Elizabeth, he was possibly more curious to see how Collins behaved when presented with the three remaining Bennet sisters. Whichever Bennet caused Collins to pull at his sleeves or adjust some other item of his clothing or caused him to bubble over with a litany of words would be the Bennet they would have to ensure he attained. He had been observing Collins for the entirety of their trip and had just now sorted out what he thought was the source of the man’s odd behavior
Richard climbed out of the carriage. “What other reason is there?” he whispered near Darcy’s ear.
Darcy simply shook his head and waved his hand for Collins to precede them to the door. This was his family’s home even if the man had been estranged from them for his entire life, and he should be the one to enter first.
Collins arrived at the door to Longbourn before Darcy but then fell back. “I cannot,” he muttered.
“You must,” Darcy encouraged. Had he actually seen the man tremble?
Collins shook his head.
“Very well. I know them, I will do the introductions if you prefer,” Darcy offered.
Collins’s head bobbed up and down mutely. Mutely. Darcy chuckled softly. That was not a word he expected to use about the loquacious Mr. Collins. Darcy spoke to Mr. Hill when he opened the door and then led his cousin and Mr. Collins to the sitting room.
“Mr. Darcy!” Mrs. Bennet cried in surprise, covering over the other names Mr. Hill announced. “Oh, we are honored that you would call at such a time as this.” She bit her lip as compassion filled her eyes. “It is never easy,” she muttered.
“No,” Darcy agreed. “It never is.”
“Please be seated. Hill, see that tea is brought quickly. Have you just arrived back in Hertfordshire?” As she spoke, she flitted across the room and prepared a table he suspected would be used for the tea service.
“Yes, I thought since my cousin and I were travelling this direction, we could deliver your cousin to you.”
There was a momentary look of displeasure that crossed the lady’s face before it was swiftly tucked away.
“Allow me to present to you my cousin, The Right Honorable Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, and your cousin, Mr. Collins.”
“Right Honorable,” Mrs. Bennet murmured, dropping into her chair as if overcome by the appellation.
“Yes, my father is Lord Matlock,” Richard said.
“Lord Matlock,” the words were more breathed reverently than spoken.
Darcy wondered for a moment if the woman was going to swoon.
“I am a poor soldier, ma’am. Nothing more,” Richard assured her as he took a seat as Jane was indicating he should.
“Mama,” Jane said softly. “You have not introduced us to our guests.”
Mrs. Bennet gave her head a shake. “Forgive me. I must say I have never had the relation of a lord, a real lord, in my sitting room.” She paused. “No, that is not true. I have never had the son of a lord in my sitting room. I have entertained his nephew and done so admirably. There is no want of hospitality to be found here, I can assure you.”
“I would not dare to even consider that there was,” Richard replied with a smile.
Of course, Richard would find Mrs. Bennet entertaining rather than vexatious. Darcy supposed he should likely adopt the same point of view if he were to become part of her family.
“Colonel, Mr. Collins,” Mrs. Bennet rose from her chair and crossed to where her eldest daughters were standing. “This is my eldest daughter, Jane, and my second eldest, Elizabeth. Next to her is Mary.” She cleared her throat almost imperceptibly and glared at Mary, who tucked her book behind her and followed her sisters in dipping a curtsy.
Darcy watched Collins. He was obviously not unable to notice beauty when it stood before him. There was a bit of redness creeping up the man’s neck as he greeted each daughter as she was introduced. But he kept his greetings short, his hands were still, and his bow only what was necessary.
“And next to me,” Mrs. Bennet had crossed to her chair once again, “is Catherine, though we call her Kitty, and then my youngest, Lydia. I am certain Mr. Bennet will be along soon to greet you as well. He has been out with Sir William doing who knows what today, but he expects you, Mr. Collins, and he will be delighted to meet you, Colonel.”
Darcy took note of how Collins stumbled over the name Catherine and tugged at his cravat before bowing low. Miss Kitty. She would be the one. That settled, he relaxed into his chair and allowed the conversation to flow about him as he considered Collins and Miss Kitty until Elizabeth interrupted his reverie.
“I had not expected to see you so soon,” she said.
“I did not wish to be rude and deposit your cousin at your door without calling for a few moments myself.”
She blinked. “You did not?” Her eyes grew wide and her cheeks flushed.
“I can understand why you would wonder. I have not been the friendliest sort of fellow during my stay with Bingley, have I?”
She grimaced and gave a small shake of her head in reply.
“I must apologize for that and attempt to amend my ways.” He smiled at her and spun the ring on his finger.
“You are well?” Jane asked.
“I am. Not even a lingering cough. And you? The last I saw you, you were not well.”
“I am not quite so fortunate. My cough has not left me so quickly as yours has you. But, I am well.”
“I am relieved to hear it.” He glanced surreptitiously at Mrs. Bennet and lowered his voice. “Has my friend called to inquire after your health?”
Miss Bennet blushed prettily and ducked her head as her sister laughed softly.
“You surprise me with such a forward question, sir,” Elizabeth said.
“Do I indeed?” he asked without giving an explanation for his action.
“Yes, you do, and I am certain you wish to draw me out, so that I will impertinently inquire after your reason for such uncharacteristic behaviour, revealing me to be less proper than I should be.”
“I assure you that is not the reason at all,” Darcy replied. “I had hoped to inquire if his sisters have attended him.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth blinked. “They called once since Jane arrived home, but then it rained for four days, so we have not seen them since.”
“I had noticed the roads were showing signs of rain. And how were his sisters?”
Her brows furrowed. “The same as always.”
“This will sound very arrogant, but did Miss Bingley mention me?”
Jane nodded. “Yes, but not any more than she nor
mally would.”
“And she was just as civil and polite as she always is,” Elizabeth added.
Darcy bit back a laugh at the sardonic tone Elizabeth used. “I am relieved. I feared she might have redoubled her efforts to snare me. Bingley had to explain a bit about my betrothal when requesting that the ball be postponed.”
“She did not know of it before?” Elizabeth asked in surprise.
Darcy shook his head. “Very few knew of it. Anne had only recently agreed to make our arrangement public knowledge.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth said once again but this time fell silent.
“I should like to explain that arrangement to you sometime. I cannot now, of course.”
Elizabeth nodded.
“And you did promise to tell me of your friend. I admit I am curious to learn of her… and you.”
Just then, their conversation was interrupted by the serving of tea, and it was not afterwards possible to return to in the same fashion. However, Darcy felt he had accomplished his purpose in speaking with Elizabeth, for she was eyeing him curiously.
In truth, his comments had found their mark, for Elizabeth found herself considering him even after he had departed as she wandered up to her room while Mr. Collins babbled on about some gardening fact with her mother and Kitty.
Chapter 7
Two days later, as the sun climbed to its peak in the sky, Elizabeth and Mary climbed the path to Oakham Mount. She had finally been able to escape from the confines of Longbourn without all of her sisters and Mr. Collins in attendance. That man spoke so much and so pointlessly! She supposed it was good that he had taken orders, for a love of speaking was an asset for a parson. She was equally as glad that his sermons were prepared beforehand, as that must decrease the likelihood of his rambling off after some lost rabbit in the midst of delivering his sermon.
Elizabeth paused to watch a pair of riders in the distance. They raced along the field and then turned toward her. She stood where she was until she could make out who they were. Then, she lifted a hand and waved.
Colonel Fitzwilliam waved in return before saying something to his cousin and pointing to where she and Mary stood.
“Is that Mr. Darcy?” Mary asked.
“And his cousin.” Elizabeth waved again as Darcy looked her direction. She had not seen either gentleman since the day they had deposited Mr. Collins at her door.
“You seem rather eager to see them.” Mary gave Elizabeth a questioning look.
“I suppose I am,” was Elizabeth’s only reply.
“Why?” Mary prodded.
Elizabeth shrugged. She did not wish to tell Mary that she suspected she liked Mr. Darcy and not just as a friend. How he had managed to worm his way into her good graces with a hasty apology for his behaviour the other day, she was uncertain. No, she thought as the riders approached. It was more than that apology. It was seeing him as a gentleman capable of great depths of emotion that had first endeared him to her. And then, with every disparagement she had heard fall from Mr. Wickham’s lips and replayed in her mind as she lay in bed thinking before drifting off to sleep each night, her esteem of Mr. Darcy had grown. She had determined that her feeling of unease about Mr. Wickham must be accepted as a warning and every word he said scrutinized and doubted.
“Do you like him?” Mary continued.
Elizabeth sighed. “I might,” she whispered. “But please do not tell anyone, especially Mama,” she begged.
“Why should I do that?” Mary asked in surprise. “I hear enough about Mr. Bingley and Jane, and then there is Mama attempting to push me towards Mr. Collins.” She shook her head. “I do not wish to hear any more talk about matches!” She bit her lip and ducked her head. “I can tell you a secret in return that should Mama hear of it, I would be doomed.”
“Indeed?” Elizabeth pulled her eyes away from the approaching gentlemen and turned them toward her sister. “Do tell.”
“You may tell Jane but no one else.” Mary’s tone demanded compliance, and Elizabeth readily gave her assent.
Leaning a bit closer to Elizabeth, Mary whispered, “Mr. Lucas has been sending me letters and intends to speak to Papa when he has completed his studies.”
“Mr. Lucas?” Elizabeth repeated in surprise.
Mary’s head bobbed up and down. “When he is home, we often talk at church, and he is one of the few who asks me to dance at assemblies. He has approached me in town now and then when I am on an errand and he is home. But we have spoken of many things by way of letter, so I am certain we will get on quite well together.”
“How have you received letters without Mama knowing?” Elizabeth could not contain her surprise. Mary was so proper. Mary reprimanded anyone who was improper. And yet, Mary was carrying on a secret correspondence with a gentleman?
“If one appears excessively dull and proper, Mama will leave her alone.”
“But even Mama would know about your receiving letters and would not remain quiet.”
Mary shrugged. “Not if they are delivered by Maria instead of Hill.”
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open.
“You will not tell,” she repeated.
“Of course, I will not, but do be cautious, and consider Mr. Lucas when he returns before you accept any offer.”
“I am not so silly as Papa believes,” Mary said with a sly grin. “I will not tie myself to anyone unless I am certain of their constancy and respect.”
“And love?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes, of course,” Mary replied. “Without love, how would a gentleman be able to remain constant?”
“Why, his honour would demand it!”
Mary shook her head. “Honour has its limits, but love endures always.” She looked past her startled sister and extended her greetings to the gentlemen who had finally reached them.
“Are you well?” Darcy asked Elizabeth after the pleasantries of meeting had been performed, and he and Elizabeth were walking ahead of Richard and Mary.
“Quite well,” Elizabeth replied.
“You looked a bit out of sorts when we rode up.”
“My sister,” she said with a shake of her head. “I cannot tell you what she said, but you must believe me that it was shocking. It is nothing which warrants your concern, however, for it is nothing dreadful. It was just so different from what I ever expected from her.”
“Sisters can surprise us,” Darcy agreed.
“Has your sister surprised you?” Elizabeth asked.
Darcy wore a grim expression as he nodded. “I fear her surprise was not as innocent as your sister’s appears to be, but like you, I do not feel at liberty to speak of it at present. She is well, so do not fret on that account. Not uninjured,” he added, “but well.”
“I am pleased she is well.” Elizabeth was not sure what else to say. Her curiosity was aroused, but she would not pry into something that was so obviously grave a subject. Perhaps with time, he would share his secrets with her. They did seem to be becoming friends, so it could happen, could it not?
Of course, Elizabeth’s curiosity would not leave the topic alone, and as they walked on in silence, Elizabeth pondered her sister’s revelation and then Mr. Darcy’s comments.
Had Miss Darcy hidden something from her brother? It seemed most likely. She wondered what Miss Darcy was really like? Was she serious like Mary or lively like Lydia? Perhaps she was more like Miss Bingley. If Mr. Wickham’s words were correct, Miss Bingley was who Miss Darcy would most likely resemble. Elizabeth’s steps faltered. However, if Mr. Wickham’s words about Miss Darcy being cold and proud were wrong, was it because he had been spurned by her? Could he have been the surprise she had kept from her brother?
“Are you well?” Darcy asked as he caught hold of Elizabeth’s elbow, as once again she stumbled as she realized just why Mr. Wickham might despise Mr. Darcy.
“I was too engrossed in my thoughts,” Elizabeth explained.
“Do you often stumble when your thoughts are so encompassing?” Da
rcy tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “I should not wish for you to fall,” he said with a smile in response to her raised eyebrow.
“I am usually very sure on my feet,” she assured him.
“I am glad to hear that.”
Something in his tone had shifted from one of ease to one tinged with sorrow.
“Are you well?” she whispered.
“Anne died when she fell,” he explained and then looked away to somewhere far off in front of them.
“Tell me about your Anne,” Elizabeth offered. She recognized the look he was wearing. His Anne was in his thoughts, and Elizabeth knew that often speaking of Celia had helped ease the pain that mere thinking had brought.
“You do not mind?” he asked.
“I am willing to listen if you are able to share.”
“Anne is…was…the daughter and only child of my mother’s sister, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
“Your poor aunt,” the words escaped Elizabeth before she could catch them.
“Indeed,” Darcy replied. “She has lost both her husband and now her daughter.”
Elizabeth blinked against the tears that sprang unbidden to her eyes.
“My mother and her sister were not only sisters but also dear friends. Correspondence flew from Pemberley to Rosings and back on a regular basis.”
He was smiling softly and looking into the distance as he spoke. Elizabeth was struck with a sense of grief for Lady Catherine once again as she recalled that Darcy’s mother had also died.
“Lady Catherine is not an easy person to love.” He glanced down at Elizabeth. “She is demanding and particular, but my mother was an angel who could soothe a dragon’s anger with a smile.”
Elizabeth could not help smiling at the sweet way he spoke of his mother.
“When Anne was born, my mother was as delighted as could be, but then, Anne became ill and grew weak. She never fully recovered. The weakness remained, and my mother, as well as Lady Catherine, feared for her as she grew older. How would such a lady find a husband who would treat her well? How would she endure a season, so that she might find a husband? But then, my mother landed on the perfect solution. Me.” He drew a breath. “Anne and I have…had…always been great friends, so when my mother approached me with the idea, I was not entirely against it. Then, when my mother became so ill that she could not write her own letters and could not leave her bed, she called me in and made me promise to marry Anne and to love her as she deserved to be loved.” He shrugged. “How could I refuse my mother what became her last request of me?”