Being master of such a house would be exceedingly pleasant. Longbourn was all well and good, but this house was bigger and this estate far more profitable. Were he someday to be the master of Stag Hill, he might just as easily let Longbourn to some gentleman or other for a tidy yearly sum.
The idea of securing Miss Mallory and her estate had come upon him suddenly, and it had come upon him like a hurricane wind. There had been an overpowering sense of urgency in it. Then, when he’d considered that Colonel Fitzwilliam had paid Miss Mallory marked attention, he’d become determined to ask her that very night. To support his courage in the matter, he’d had another glass of port.
The events that transpired after that were somewhat hazy, though Mr. Collins recalled Colonel Fitzwilliam threatening to thrash him. He dearly hoped that was only a turn of phrase, as hand to hand combat was not really within his scope of skills.
Now, he must write Lady Catherine an answer. And yet, it must be an answer that contained no real answer as he had nothing to say for himself. There was very little positive to say of his current circumstances, but for the fact that her nephew, Mr. Darcy, was in the neighborhood.
Yes. That was it. He would distract with news of Mr. Darcy and the fact that the gentleman was now known to his own relatives, the Bennets. That Mr. Collins himself had not the opportunity for any lengthy conversation with Mr. Darcy might be left unsaid. He’d attempted it the evening before, after Mr. Mallory had provided the introduction, but Mr. Darcy had only nodded and walked off. Still, it must be a credit to himself if Lady Catherine was to understand that her nephew held his own relations in high esteem.
He might turn Lady Catherine’s head with news of Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy, and Colonel Fitzwilliam, while at the same time gently hinting that their original plan, that he should marry a Bennet, might not come off.
Mr. Collins knew from painful experience that if one were to disappoint Lady Catherine de Bourgh in a scheme, one had better do it in easy stages, rather than all at once. The best strategy, he’d found, was to drop enough hints that the lady finally determined a new course of action on her own.
He dipped his quill and wrote:
Dear Lady Catherine,
I was most gratified to receive your letter, as I know a great lady such as yourself has a burdensome amount of correspondence to manage. You will be surprised to hear, and happily I trust, that your nephews, Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, are on the scene, as is your niece, Miss Darcy. Mr. Darcy’s friend, Mr. Bingley, has rented an estate called Netherfield which is very nearby Longbourn. Mr. Darcy has spent much time with my relatives the Bennets and I have had the pleasure of meeting him only last night at a dinner.
Mr. Collins paused. Mr. Darcy had not spent all that much time with the Bennets, but who was to say how much actual time ‘much time’ really was? Now, he must just think of how to knock one Bennet girl after the next off Lady Catherine’s list.
Mr. Darcy appears exceedingly admiring of the Bennets and was noted enjoying the company of his dinner partner, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, last evening. In truth, I believe he may have some special regard for the lady. Naturally, while Elizabeth Bennet would be the most desirable of the Bennet ladies, I do not like to tread on another gentleman’s toes. Particularly not toes as distinguished as Mr. Darcy’s.
As for Jane Bennet, she is exceedingly pretty, so much so that it might disturb Miss de Bourgh. Lydia Bennet is bold, I fear far bolder than you would like. Mary Bennet considers herself learned and is prone to lecturing. I cannot conceive of you tolerating being lectured, it is too absurd.
Mr. Collins paused. What to say of Kitty Bennet? She was a fairly foolish young lady, but that might not be enough to put Lady Catherine off. In truth, his benefactress might find a malleable girl preferable.
He poised his quill and quickly wrote:
Kitty Bennet drinks too much.
Mr. Collins sat back, satisfied. Lady Catherine would be unlikely to wish him to proceed with any of the Bennets after receiving those descriptions.
I pray all is well at Rosings and I await your command on how I am to proceed.
William Collins
Darcy pretended to read a book, though he did no such thing. At regular intervals he turned a page, that activity meant to stave off Miss Bingley. She’d been circling the drawing room and making comments to the air for some time.
“I suppose the dinner at Lucas Lodge this evening will be just as tedious as the Mallory’s was,” Miss Bingley said. “Good Lord, I was seated next to that dreadful Mr. Collins. I suppose you know he is your aunt’s clergyman?”
Darcy did not answer, though of course he did know. He could not help but know it, as the man had told him it three times when they were introduced. He’d finally just nodded and walked away.
“He would go on about it,” Miss Bingley said. “I really do not understand how a gentleman spends an entire dinner talking of the closets his benefactress has suggested to him. Though I suppose it is kind of Lady Catherine to take an interest in such small matters. If poor Mr. Collins cannot manage his own closets, it is well he has help in that direction. Though really, he did go on about it.”
Just as Darcy was thinking that Miss Bingley also had a marked ability to go on about things, Colonel Fitzwilliam strode into the room. Darcy suppressed a smile; his cousin always entered a room as if he were charging into battle.
The Colonel stopped short when he saw Miss Bingley. He said, “I must confer with my cousin on some business matters.”
Miss Bingley waved her hand and said, “Confer away, Colonel.”
“Privately,” the Colonel said.
Miss Bingley reddened, then with a sniff, said, “I will walk in the gardens. It is a fine day.”
She turned and left. Darcy laid his book down, grateful.
“I do not know what business you wish to speak on,” Darcy said, “but I am obliged all the same. Georgiana made her escape from the room nearly an hour ago.”
The Colonel looked toward the door that Miss Bingley had exited and folded his arms. “She is highly annoying.”
Darcy laughed, as he did sometimes when his cousin’s bluntness caught him unawares. “Indeed, she is,” he said. “What do you wish to discuss?”
“It is personal business. I have a mind to court Miss Mallory.”
Darcy was surprised, though he should not have been. He knew his cousin wished to marry, and Miss Mallory had the funds to make such a match practicable.
“She is a good sort of girl,” the Colonel went on. “She can seem somewhat silly upon first acquaintance, but that is only nerves. After speaking with her further, I like her. I like her a lot. Thank God she comes with a suitable dowry.”
“Thirty thousand, I believe,” Darcy said.
“And Stag Hill is not entailed,” the Colonel said. “She will inherit the estate.”
“It would be a fine situation for you,” Darcy said. In truth, he could think of no better situation for his cousin. The estate was sizable. It would not only set up Fitzwilliam, but it would also provide safety and comfort for his children and their children in perpetuity. It was far more than most second sons could hope for.
“Now Darcy,” Fitzwilliam said, “you will not go on about the Mallory’s lack of London connections or their less than storied family history? Mr. Mallory is a first generation gentleman farmer. You should know that his father was a bookkeeper in Meryton. I do not care a farthing about it and, in truth, if Miss Mallory brought far less than she does, I would be inclined to pursue her all the same. I am certain we should get on well together. Further, my own mother and father will not go against it. My father said I might marry a horse if that horse came with money. My mother put it somewhat more delicate, but made it clear she does not wish me to be a soldier all my life.”
Darcy smiled. “I will not dispute the amiableness of the scheme, nor will I recoil in horror to hear of the family’s background. I have quite thrown over my earlier opinions on that score. As well I might, my own fr
iend’s father was a tradesman.”
“Do I detect Miss Bennet’s influence in this change?” Fitzwilliam asked.
“Yes, but it matters little from whence the change has come. Miss Bennet thinks me deplorable, and not just for my unfortunate opinions.”
“Come now,” Fitzwilliam said, “I know you often say a thing that might be better left unsaid, but you cannot have done anything particularly egregious.”
“It is not what I have done,” Darcy said. “It is what Miss Bennet thinks I have done. Wickham has put it about that I denied him the living. He has also told people that I have banned him from my presence. So, as you can see, he’s made himself out to be a charming victim by telling one truth and one lie.”
The Colonel laid his hand where he was accustomed to finding his sword. “What will you do?”
Darcy tented his fingers. “My first thought, last night, was to visit the regiment this morning and thrash him to within an inch of his life. However, I dare not. Georgiana’s secret is too dear to risk it. I will not have our whole history with that scoundrel known.”
“I see what you say,” the Colonel said. “Though it is a shame, Darcy.”
“Yes,” Darcy said quietly, “it is.”
“Well,” the Colonel said, “if it cannot be helped it must be borne. By the way, that ridiculous Mr. Collins was attempting a drunken proposal to Miss Mallory as we were leaving last evening. I hope you do not mind that I swore I would thrash him if I saw him in the vicinity of Stag Hill?”
“Not at all,” Darcy said. “Thrash him all you like.”
The Colonel departed for Stag Hill to make his intentions known, and Darcy was left alone with his thoughts. Despite his appearance of equanimity in front of his cousin, his thoughts roiled.
How cruel the fates could be that his cousin, whose prospects had been so poor, was to find himself in the happiest of circumstances. While Darcy, who had been given everything, would be blocked from his one true aim by that rogue George Wickham.
If only Miss Bennet could know the truth of what had really transpired with George Wickham. He’d refused the living, demanded money, and got it. Then, after gambling it all away, he’d attempted to elope with Georgiana! Darcy had bought him his commission to get rid of him for good, and here he was. Wickham was like a leech draining the blood from all who came into his sphere.
If not for Wickham, Darcy knew he would still have much ground to make up in Miss Bennet’s eyes, there was no use denying that. However, if he could only erase her most serious charge against him, there would be at least a chance.
Might it not be done? He would not wish for others to know of Georgiana’s near-elopement with Wickham, but might he not trust Miss Bennet with the knowledge? Might he not expose George Wickham for what he really was?
Emma had not yet been to visit Aunt Phillips and Elizabeth began to feel that they’d all treated the proposed visit rather like a trip to see Miss Bates—a necessary thing that somehow kept getting put off.
Though Emma was not a blood relation of that side of the family, there still was a connection that should be acknowledged. Particularly since her aunt and uncle had been excluded from the recent society they had all been a part of, and would be again. Lady Lucas would not have issued them an invitation to dine as she and Aunt Phillips were rather like oil and water.
Elizabeth could not put off the visit longer and so Elizabeth, Jane and Emma made their way there.
Elizabeth had thought they would find her aunt alone, Mr. Phillips being out of the house all day at his work. Instead, they walked into a party of sorts. Lydia and Kitty were holding court over tea, surrounded by a group of officers.
Though some of the officers were as yet unknown to Elizabeth, Mr. Wickham and Mr. Denny were not. While Emma exchanged pleasantries with her aunt, Mr. Wickham made his way to Elizabeth’s side.
“I am very glad to see you, Miss Bennet,” he said. “I would call at Longbourn, but I understand your father must issue the invitation and so far he has not.”
Elizabeth smiled. “My father does not institute many rules, but that is one of them. It is for his own peace and comfort—he grew rather alarmed to hear my mama talking of an endless line of officers coming and going.”
“I am only grateful that Mrs. Phillips does not take such a hard line on the subject, we are welcomed here nearly every day.”
Every day? Elizabeth had been under the impression that Lydia and Kitty walked aimlessly about the street and pretended to shop for ribbons when they came into Meryton. Not that they were closeted in Aunt Philips’ house with officers. Her aunt would not be held up by anybody as the most careful chaperone.
“You have found out our secret, Lizzy,” Lydia called from the other side of the room. “Do not you dare tell papa, I never know what he will say about things.”
“I believe I know what he would say,” Elizabeth said softly.
Mr. Wickham’s face grew serious. “Truly, there is no harm in it. We play cards and drink tea. It is only a pleasant way to pass the time.”
Thinking this might be her only chance to discover more about the rift between Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham, Elizabeth put aside her concerns for her sisters for the moment.
“Mr. Wickham,” she said, “as you have made it no secret what the circumstances have been between you and Mr. Darcy, I did see fit to help him understand that his villainy is known.”
Mr. Wickham paled ever so slightly. “You did?”
“I did,” Elizabeth said. “I must say I expected him to be ashamed to be caught out, but he was rather vehement in his defense.”
Mr. Wickham was silent for a moment, then said, “He would be, would he not?”
“I am sure I do not know. It was not the reaction that I expected. He appeared to think himself in the right.”
Mr. Wickham gazed down at his folded hands. Softly he said, “There is one circumstance that I have not told others, but it is a circumstance in which Darcy would think himself in the right, as much as I think him in the wrong. It involves a lady, and I did not wish to involve her in this sordid business.”
“Certainly, I do not press you on it, if that is the case.”
“No, No, Miss Bennet, I will tell you all. I am convinced you are to be trusted and would not reveal the lady’s secret.”
Elizabeth nodded and waited for him to go on.
“As you know, I was raised at Pemberley. In close quarters such as that, it would not be so unusual for two persons unrelated to develop an attachment.”
“Do you allude to Miss Darcy?” Elizabeth said, working to keep the shock from her face.
Mr. Wickham nodded sorrowfully.
“But Mr. Wickham, Miss Darcy is very young. She is not even out.”
“All of that was accounted for. I swore I would wait for Miss Darcy to come of age. I would take myself off elsewhere so she should not fall under any undo influence and, after a suitable number of years had passed, she would be able to ascertain if her feelings remained unchanged. I had every confidence of it and believe she loves me still.”
“Is that why Mr. Darcy banned you from his society?” Elizabeth asked. “Because he did not wish for Miss Darcy to become reacquainted with you?”
“Precisely,” Mr. Wickham said. “When I told Darcy of our love a year ago, he promptly refused me the living and threw me out of the house. I am sure you have noticed, Miss Bennet, that Darcy is a frightful snob. I always knew it of him, and yet I thought he might have a care for his sister’s happiness. As it happened, he’d happily ignore any of her wishes in order to force her to make what he would consider a brilliant match. He did not consider me brilliant in any way.”
Elizabeth was pensive. On the one hand, no gentleman would dare tell such a tale unless it were true. Involving a lady in scandalous gossip could well lead to a duel and the tale-teller end up dead because of it. On the other hand, Miss Darcy did not appear particularly lovelorn. Elizabeth found she’d gained no more clarity than when s
he’d walked in the door.
“Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth said, “when Miss Darcy saw you in my drawing room, it almost appeared as if she was frightened.”
“I am sure she was,” Mr. Wickham said. “God only knows what sort of bullying Darcy has heaped upon her head. She is a gentle soul, not at all like her brother.”
“But you did say that Miss Darcy was too proud like her brother. Was that not true?”
Mr. Wickham seemed startled. He collected himself and smoothly said, “That was a lie, Miss Bennet, made to protect Miss Darcy.”
Mrs. Phillips interrupted their conversation. “Lizzy, come and gather round, Mr. Denny has promised us an amusing story.”
Upon returning to Longbourn, Elizabeth had gone to her father and enlightened him as to where Kitty and Lydia were going every day. She, Jane and Emma had talked it over on their walk home and agreed that the situation could not be allowed to continue.
She had hoped her father would have expressed some outrage over it, but he took the news in stride, noting that Aunt Phillips would keep the girls out of any real trouble and they were likely safer in her house than milling about on the road.
Elizabeth could not agree. The atmosphere of her aunt’s house had been one of casual familiarity. She thought the officers might dare anything and her aunt would not find it too far.
Nevertheless, it was her father’s judgment to make. She could only silently worry over what might come of it. Her thoughts could not be entirely consumed by Lydia and Kitty, though. Mr. Wickham had given her much to consider.
As she and Jane readied themselves to dine at Lucas Lodge, Elizabeth’s head fairly spun. She would wish, more than anything, to tell Jane of what Mr. Wickham had communicated. Jane might be relied upon to give a measured opinion. And yet, she could not. Mr. Wickham had told her the alarming story in confidence and she would not for the world break it. If it had not involved Miss Darcy she might have considered it, but as it was she dared not.
Could it be true? Was Miss Darcy in love with Mr. Wickham? It seemed true and untrue at the same time. Ludicrous that Mr. Wickham would dare invent such a tale and equally ludicrous that cheerful Miss Darcy was secretly pining for her beloved.
Cousin Emma Page 17