Elizabeth barely concealed a smile as she followed Charlotte who, lacking Elizabeth’s confidence in talking to such distinguished gentlemen with ease, hurried to obeyed Lady Catherine’s request.
The gentlemen seemed content to remain by themselves, but their host would not have it. A minute later, she also demanded their presence, and everybody gathered around her. However, all conversation ceased as her ladyship asked and answered her own questions; the others were merely a silent audience.
Lady Catherine brought up the subject of matrimony and offered her opinion on perfection in marriage. She addressed this mostly to Charlotte, but Elizabeth saw her glance frequently at Mr. Darcy, who appeared rather uncomfortable.
Lady Anne—Mr. Darcy’s mother and Lady Catherine’s sister—was also mentioned as being the embodiment of accomplishment and an exemplary wife and mistress, admired everywhere. Elizabeth listened with great interest, attempting to estimate the character of the beautiful lady she had seen in the main hall.
“I fully agree with your ladyship,” Mr. Darcy suddenly spoke with melancholy. “My mother was everything kind and generous. Her beauty was only equalled by her excellent character and gentle heart. And I am happy to say that Georgiana resembles her in that.”
“But Georgiana is too shy. She will never have Anne’s self-confidence and elegance. She barely opened her mouth the last time I saw her. What news have you had of her, Darcy?”
“All good news, I assure you,” he answered shortly.
Elizabeth listened unattached to the conversation, trying to infer the identity of this person. When she understood that Miss Georgiana was Mr. Darcy’s sister, her attention was fixed by the manner in which Mr. Darcy spoke of her. His voice was gentle and showed his affection, but it felt as if he would rather not talk about the subject—that it made him uncomfortable.
At last, Elizabeth dared another look towards the gentleman, whose countenance became even more severe. She was surprised to catch a quick exchange of glances between Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Mr. Darcy’s displeasure was apparent, and only Lady Catherine remained oblivious.
“Does she still play at the piano forte?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mr. Darcy replied
“I hope she practices daily—tell her that she must!”
Mr. Darcy met Elizabeth’s eyes briefly before he answered, “I assure you there is no need to remind Georgiana of anything. She is diligent with her studies and always knows what her duty is.”
He then took his glass and moved towards the window, consumed by grave thoughts that only he knew.
When the time for departure arrived, Mr. Collins was informed that he would have a carriage to take them home immediately. He bowed deeply to thank her ladyship for such consideration while Elizabeth and Mrs. Collins took their farewell from Lady Catherine, her daughter, and the gentlemen.
On the way home, Elizabeth was asked for her opinion on the evening, and she gave it as being far better than it was—failing to mention the awkward moment of introduction or the talk at dinner. Mr. Collins made the same pretence of forgetfulness and took the following half hour to praise the generosity of their hostess.
***
Alone with Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam expressed his wish to see Miss Bennet again, as he had found her a completely charming creature. Darcy remained silent and gave no opinion on the subject. Miss Elizabeth Bennet was intriguing, he thought, and her beauty was not of a perfect kind; however, she did leave an impression. Even covered in mud, she was a strong presence.
Her manners were pleasant, but he could not deny that he was most impressed with her frankness. He had been taken aback by her spirit and intelligence in returning each of Lady Catherine’s questions with clever retorts, regardless of their difference in rank.
There was, however, a question in Darcy’s mind regarding her sincerity: Were the views she expressed hers or merely a pretext to appear in a favourable light?
Darcy was also aware that, under such pretexts, the most appalling characters could hide. He knew it all too well, and thus he was more guarded. On whom is she trying to make an impression? Darcy determined that he could not make out her character after meeting only a few times.
From Elizabeth, his thoughts moved to his dear sister, Georgiana, and the letter he received from Pemberley. He took it from his pocket once more, briefly reading the last paragraph, which ended with Georgiana’s recount of her last piano performance.
The frail handwriting that spread across the paper impressed him, and the welcoming tone of its content gave him hope. However, he scarcely allowed himself to be completely convinced that the warm words his sister put in the letter were an indication of the healing he desired. It seems that the colonel was right: writing to Georgiana has helped, even if it is half a page. At least, I can see traces of Georgiana’s affection.
As Darcy sat at the desk, having decided to reply to her at once, he paused in search of the right words. His affection had not been changed by anything Georgiana did—or wished to do by wanting to elope with the ghastly Wickham. Nor had he remorse for any of the things he did for her. A conclusion arose as he was writing the letter: he could not allow a dishonest person into his presence ever again.
He was resolved to be guarded against everyone—including Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Chapter Four
The Collinses returned to their usual employments the following morning: Mr. Collins prepared for Sunday service while Charlotte decided to attend to members of the congregation she had neglected. Elizabeth chose to finish correspondence to Jane and her father, but she found it took only a short time to do so. She returned to her room and decided to organize her luggage again—for lack of anything else to do in the house—but such activity proved uninteresting. At last, she decided to take a walk, as it was too good a day to miss by staying indoors.
The park was large, and Elizabeth considered whether she should explore it on her own. Mr. Collins had told her about a portion of the estate that was never visited by her ladyship or anyone in the neighbourhood on account of some old ghost stories. She found the notion equally amusing and ridiculous, but it raised her curiosity. It was not far from the parsonage, and Elizabeth’s curious nature could not resist, so she decided to walk to the “ghostly” area of the park. Elizabeth removed her bonnet, allowing the gentle wind to caress her hair and enjoying the feeling of unrestrained freedom, and set off on her walk.
She felt invigorated when she left the clean-cut garden and perfect statues behind and entered an area of wild trees. A small path indicated that others had been here too, so she confidently followed the small road in front of her. The scenery was indeed suited for ghost stories as, from time to time, there were sounds that could have caused fear in someone less impressionable than Elizabeth. However, none of these noises prevented her from going further along the road.
Ghosts do not appear in the middle of the day! She laughed to herself, but she stopped again when she heard clear sounds just ahead.
Elizabeth turned to leave the spot, but in doing so, she saw Lady Catherine’s great hound. She knew instantly that he could not be alone in the woods.
“Hello?” she asked. “Is anyone there?”
Elizabeth took a few steps more before she saw Mr. Darcy appear from her right. Unlike the grey hound that was indifferent to her presence, Mr. Darcy was clearly surprised to see her there.
“Miss Bennet,” he said, “what are you doing here?”
Elizabeth wanted to say something but she could not find words. Her mouth was dry, unable to utter a single sentence. Their gazes locked, and nothing else was spoken until Mr. Darcy repeated the question.
“I was talking a walk, Mr. Darcy.”
“This is no place for you to be!”
His harsh tone compelled Elizabeth to make a quick curtsey and turn down the road to her left, thinking of nothing but her immediate return to the parsonage. As she walked, it took her only a moment to realize that she might not be on the correct
path. She stopped, dismayed.
“Miss Bennet,” she heard him again, “please allow me to accompany you home.” Elizabeth turned to face him, sure that she was to meet the same disapproving eyes as before, but Darcy looked genuinely concerned.
“I apologize,” he spoke, clearly uncomfortable about his behaviour. “I did not mean to sound rude. Please, allow me to escort you home.” As she stood in front of him, unwilling to move, Mr. Darcy added, “This is a dangerous place, and I would prefer to see you unharmed.”
Elizabeth nodded, and said nothing else. She drew near Mr. Darcy, and the gentleman stepped sideways allowing Elizabeth to join him on the road. She knew it was highly irregular for a young lady like herself to be in the company of a single gentleman, but she did not know what to do about it. However, her resolve was firm.
I shall speak to him as little as possible and look at him even less. I do not want Mr. Darcy to think that I am remotely grateful for having been saved from my own rash actions, she thought as she felt the gentleman walking beside her. She had been impulsive to venture so far—and to an unfamiliar place. “One not a ghost should be afraid of!” her father had always said.
They walked in silence for a while, but at last, Mr. Darcy spoke. “It is unlike you to have nothing to say, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth looked at him, surprised, only to discover an amused look on his face. She hesitated a moment before she spoke in a lighter tone, “Please instruct me: What would you like me to talk about, Mr. Darcy? I shall try to oblige you.”
He seemed cheered with her answer, which sounded like a command, and thus, joining her, he continued, “How does it happen that you are in this part of the park?”
Elizabeth replied that Mr. Collins had mentioned it, and her curiosity got the best of her.
“Has he not also said that it is not a place for young ladies?”
“Yes, I am afraid he has. But you see, we young ladies rarely allow ourselves to be discouraged by danger, Mr. Darcy.”
As she spoke, Elizabeth observed Mr. Darcy looking at her attentively. He looked genuinely puzzled by her answer in a manner Elizabeth could not explain. After a moment, his countenance changed completely, and Elizabeth wondered whether her words had caused painful memories.
“Yes,” he answered seriously, “regardless of the consequences.”
“Sometimes, being bold is the only choice we have, Mr. Darcy, as we are rarely allowed the same mistakes as our male counterparts.”
Mr. Darcy moved his gaze to Elizabeth, and she observed a deep furrow on his brow. He was clearly affected by what she had told him, although Elizabeth felt she had said nothing to offend the gentleman. Silence fell again, and it was up to Elizabeth to break it just to keep him from thinking of whatever troubled him.
“Do you come often to Rosings?” she asked.
“No, not really,” he replied. ”I travel only when my aunt requires my presence. I prefer not to leave Pemberley.” As he mentioned “Pemberley,” there was a sort of smile that Elizabeth fancied she understood. “I recall your telling my aunt yesterday that you miss your family.”
“Indeed, I do, sir.”
“Then you are truly fortunate to have a family to miss.”
Elizabeth was puzzled for a moment, uncertain what Mr. Darcy meant. However, his eyes, more vulnerable than she had seen them before, betrayed a deep sadness. She thought of what she might say to give him comfort, but eventually she chose to remain silent.
She had only been informed about his less pleasant features, of course, but this vulnerable side stirred her imagination. She knew Mr. Darcy had lost both parents, but he still claimed the affection of a sister. She had heard him speak of her with affection. What sorrow is he hiding?
Elizabeth withheld her desire for more hints about his thoughts and instead strove to keep pace with him.
Suddenly, there was a loud noise ahead of them in the bushes, and Mr. Darcy hastily grabbed Elizabeth’s arm, pulling her next to him. She had little time to react as he held her tightly still, and they saw a large, handsome stag moving beneath the trees.
The majestic creature reached the path and stopped in front of them, seemingly curious about how they came to be on his land. Darcy took a few steps in an attempt to protect Elizabeth. The stag turned his head and fixed them questioningly. Elizabeth felt her breathing increase—not with fear of the animal but with the excitement of seeing something so beautiful before her.
On sensing this, Mr. Darcy tightened his grip on her arm and whispered softly, “Do not be afraid, Miss Bennet. It will not harm us.”
“I am not in the least afraid,” she answered, not fully realizing that she Darcy still held her arm. “Mr. Darcy, it is beautiful!” Elizabeth continued, unable to take her eyes off the unexpected, mesmerizing sight unfolding before her.
A female deer followed the stag an instant later, and with her came a curious fawn that seemed at first intimidated by the presence of the two strangers. Elizabeth felt her eyes fill with tears of joy as she watched the small animal direct his muzzle towards them, driven by curiosity, and she drew herself closer to Darcy.
She raised her head and watched Mr. Darcy for a second. The gentleman was calm and poised yet on alert, but she discovered that he had been as enthralled by the view as she was. Neither of them knew how long the magic moment would last, and they remained side by side until another noise from the woods startled the stag. He raised his head, signalling it was time to move on, and his command was obeyed, the female and the fawn vanishing without a trace as if by magic.
Without looking at Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy released her arm. She felt he was on the point of telling her something, an excuse probably, but at the last minute, he changed his mind.
“I think we better return home now,” she said, not really sure how she felt or what else she could say.
Mr. Darcy nodded, and they proceeded in silence.
***
The events that occurred during their walk—and her resolve not to reveal her encounter with Mr. Darcy to anyone—filled Elizabeth’s mind for days. Mr. Darcy had indeed returned her to the parsonage, parting with a simple “good-bye” and a brief bow. His presence was entirely missed by Charlotte—or her maid—and Elizabeth was largely content with it. She could not—or wished not—to explain why she had been alone in his company.
But Charlotte, who noticed Elizabeth’s absentmindedness and was increasingly engaged in taking care of all her acquaintances, demanded an explanation.
“Lizzy? Are you sure you are feeling well?”
”Of course I am; why would you ask me such a thing, Charlotte?”
“You have been much too quiet today.”
“No, indeed; or if I was, it must be because I feel so comfortable in your home and have little to say,” Elizabeth responded, wishing to satisfy Charlotte’s curiosity.
“I am glad to hear it because we are invited to dine with Lady Catherine tonight.”
“Again?” Elizabeth answered, somewhat alarmed at the news.
“Yes,” Charlotte replied, not oblivious to the stir such news created in Elizabeth. “Mr. Collins told me this morning before he left.”
Elizabeth’s first thought was to decline the invitation, but she knew better. She had no strong reason to do so, and if she had, she would have increased Charlotte’s curiosity.
“I confess I find these gatherings tiring, but I cannot leave poor Mr. Collins to face her ladyship alone. She can be so…” Charlotte could not allow herself to express a harsh opinion; their maid had been in her ladyship’s service before coming to the parsonage. “Anyway, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy will make the visit more tolerable.”
Elizabeth recalled the image of the fawn in the forest and Mr. Darcy’s closeness to her and simply said, “I suppose they will, Charlotte.”
***
The dinner was everything Elizabeth expected.
More than once, she unexpectedly met Mr. Darcy’s gaze. As she was no longer of interest to L
ady Catherine—who was intent on reminding Mr. Collins of his clerical duties—Elizabeth was at liberty to sit at the table unnoticed.
However, the constant interest on Mr. Darcy’s part made her uneasy, which affected her appetite. He seemed not to mind that others could observe him, and this created a greater stir in Elizabeth.
I wish he would stop. Why does he continue to stare at me? Elizabeth thought while lowering her gaze. He does not seem upset—rather intrigued or curious. He seems to be judging me in some way.
Elizabeth found this thought disturbing, barely admitting to herself that she was interested in Mr. Darcy’s opinion of her.
“Miss Bennet,” Elizabeth heard Colonel Fitzwilliam speak next to her, “you are quiet this evening.”
“I am more keen to listen than speak tonight, sir.” As she replied, she observed Mr. Darcy, whose expression was now changed as he was addressing to Miss de Bourgh. His betrothed. Elizabeth felt a strange sensation inside and could pay little attention to what the colonel was saying, replying with a simple “Yes” or “No” from time to time.
“I am glad to hear it, Miss Bennet,” he said at last. “I must confess I thought this evening was going to be a total bore.”
Lady Catherine observed them from the head of the table and felt the need to intervene. “Henry, tell me instantly what you two are talking about.”
“Music, ma’am,” the colonel said. “Miss Bennet has agreed to play and sing for us tonight.”
Upon hearing this alarming piece of news, Elizabeth attempted to retract such a promise, but Lady Catherine continued. “Miss Bennet, I thought you did not play the piano.”
“I do not, your ladyship. I mean—I do, but just a little and very ill, indeed. I am not proficient at all. I…”
Elizabeth looked around the table for an ally, but there was none. Mr. Collins looked at her in dismay while Charlotte cast her eyes down at her own hands. At last, Elizabeth caught Mr. Darcy’s gaze, and to her great surprise, she thought she saw the trace of a smile. She blushed as she imagined that it was his way of mocking her.
Meant to Be: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 6