by Linda Phelps
Charlotte tried to think of Mr. Collins, but her mind took her elsewhere. She thought of Frederick in Lover’s Vows. She thought of George Long, then of Mr. Bingley. She thought of the heroes in Mrs. Radcliffe’s works. Then, never letting go of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s hand, she scurried with him to the little shed where the pony was housed.
Amelia. Come, then teach love to me;
Somehow, he knew of an alcove where straw to spread in the pony’s stall was stored. It was a very snug place, warm, and sweet smelling.
“My daring Lady Charlotte,” he said in her ear. He saw that she was comfortable on the straw. “It is about time you knew a man.”
“Colonel Fitzwilliam, “she murmured, not at all sure what she wanted to say to him. It was much too late for her to pretend that she was offended by his caresses.
“What did I say about that?” asked he. “We agreed that we were no longer on such formal terms.”
“Frederick,” she said. Her lips uttered the name with utter sweetness. “Frederick.”
When Charlotte returned to the house, Elizabeth awaited her in the sitting room. “Charlotte, I do wonder if you have too much work here. Look. Your face is pink from exertion. Perhaps you should rest.”
“I thank you for your concern, but I feel quite well. Was your walk a pleasant one?” She picked up the purse she had been netting and set to work.
“It could have been, but once again I had the bad fortune to run into Mr. Darcy. It happens often when I walk. I have told him that there are particular walks that I favour, but he does not walk elsewhere. I think that to be rather ill-mannered, don’t you?”
“Perhaps he thought you were encouraging him to meet you there. I do not think it is mere happenstance that he runs across you so often.”
“Charlotte, do not be silly,” said Elizabeth. “These ideas are unworthy of you. Do I not recall you saying, ‘I am not romantic, you know. I never was.”?
“That was in reference to myself, “said Charlotte, colouring. “I have long thought Mr. Darcy had a special interest in you, Do you not recall him asking you to dance at the Netherfield ball? No, don’t stop me. Is not this persistence a sign of his desire to attach you? He seeks your company.”
“But he must know that I do not enjoy his,” said Elizabeth. “I have never done anything to suggest that I do. On the contrary, I am almost ill-mannered when I speak with him, which is seldom. You know how he has come here and sat in this very room without saying more than ten words in a half hour.”
Charlotte thought of Jane Bennet, who had, it seemed, lost any chance of Bingley because she would not show him her feeling for him. Was this the opposite situation? Did Mr. Darcy not understand that Elizabeth’s silence toward him indicated lack of interest? Perhaps he interpreted it as a feeling reciprocal to his own. He was unable to speak openly to her, and he believed that she was similarly unable to express herself to him. “Perhaps Mr. Darcy is shy,” she said.
“Ha. Not with those he considers his equals,” said Elizabeth, “and we quite remember his original opinion of me at the Assembly Ball, do we not?”
“But, that was long ago,” said Charlotte. Then she stopped. Suppose her own recent adventures were inspiring her to see romance where it did not exist. It would be cruel to raise hopes in Elizabeth that might come to nothing. Then, she owed a certain loyalty to Lady Anne in the matter. It was not easy to decide which to favour.
“Perhaps he has finally realized how unkind his words were,” suggested Elizabeth. “And let us not forget, he is destined to be the husband of Lady Anne. If it weren’t the pleasure that the company of Colonel Fitzwilliam provides our gatherings, I could wish them gone from Rosings.”
“Let us enjoy Colonel Fitzwilliam while we can,” said Charlotte. “I fear we will feel a loss when he leaves.”
Several days later Charlotte finished what needed to be done in the rectory and hurried to serve the livestock. The fowl received their feed with noisy appreciation; the pony began to chew immediately upon being released to the meadow, while the pigs idled in a pool of mud they had constructed. No shadow appeared in any of the doorways. In time, she returned to the rectory, her features carefully arranged to show no feelings of disappointment. Of course Frederick would, on occasion, find it difficult to slip away to meet her.
However, when she found the house to be empty, the feeling of loneliness to which she had fallen prey to before the arrival of the guests returned. Mr. Collins had taken Maria into the village for some small purchases, and Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen. Nancy, her forehead drenched with perspiration, was pounding a piece of beef to make it more tender before roasting it. She had no suggestions for ways Charlotte could help in the kitchen. Queried, she said, “Miss Elizabeth was reading those letters from her sister, and she went out into the garden of the big house again. She did not say when she would return.”
“How do you know what she was reading?” asked Charlotte sharply. “You have not been going through her things, I hope.”
“Indeed, no, ma’am. I delivered the latest letter into her very hands, so I recognized it. It was from her sister, she said, so I knew it when I saw her carrying it as she left the house.”
“If I ever suspect you are reading what you should not—”
“No, ma’am. I would never do so.” Nancy resumed pounding the beef with extra energy.
Charlotte wandered through the few rooms on the ground floor of the rectory, looking for something to straighten or dust or arrange. Finally she took up the purse again and set to work..
Within a few minutes, Elizabeth entered the room. She looked none the better for her recent exercise. Charlotte could see she had been crying. “Why, Lizzy is something wrong?”
“I am undone, “said Elizabeth. “Give me time to regain my manners.”
Obediently Charlotte cast her eyes back to the purse. As well as she knew Elizabeth, she could not remember her ever seeming so discomfited. She was reminded of Mrs. Bennet’s nerves. Surely Elizabeth was not destined to follow that path.
In time Elizabeth said, “I have learned today that it was not Caroline Bingley who maneuvered to have her brother leave Netherfield so suddenly.”
“Then who?” asked Charlotte.
“Whom do you imagine? It was Mr. Darcy, of course. It seems he took alarm at the growing attachment between Mr. Bingley and Jane, and he ‘rescued’ his friend from such an unsuitable union.”
“That is unfortunate for Jane, but really, could Mr. Bingley’s affections have been genuine if he was so easily distracted by his friend?”
Elizabeth placed herself in a chair next to her friend. “Do not expect me to view this situation rationally, Charlotte. Perhaps in time I can, but not at the present. Had Darcy not removed Bingley from Netherfield, I am sure the feelings he and Jane had for each other would have grown. I cannot forgive him for his actions.” She rose and began to pace about the room.
Charlotte’s own passion for Bingley now seemed to her to have been foolishly childish, but she understand how Jane must had felt about the man, how she might still feel today. Bingley, with his easy manners and talent for making friends of strangers had been, at the time, a worthy focus for her own dreams and for those of Jane Bennet. Still, because of his money, his standing placed him above any hopeful girl in Meryton. Further, would any man of wealth have settled for marriage with Jane Bennet, knowing of her distressed financial situation? Could there be a man who would not recognize that marrying Jane could result in him eventually housing all her sisters and Mrs. Bennet should Mr. Bennet die. What man could face that prospect with equanimity?
Charlotte did not expect that Elizabeth would be able to sympathize with Bingley’s possible objections, so she remarked mildly, “And there is no reason you should forgive Mr. Darcy, any more than you should forgive Caroline Bingley, but Elizabeth, is not your quarrel with Mr. Bingley himself? He is an independent man. He could not have been so prone to fall to trickery if his own feelings had been d
ecided.”
“To my mind, Mr. Bingley has been made a victim of his own easy nature. Mr. Darcy took advantage of Mr. Bingley’s desire to please his friends. Mr. Darcy is to be despised. I am determined to hate him forever.”
Charlotte looked nervously in the direction of Mr. Collins’s study. “I pray you, remember where you are and who he is. It would be a great unkindness to my husband and myself if you display your displeasure for her nephew to Lady Catherine.”
“You may depend on me not to do that,” said Elizabeth. “I am aware of the debt you owe to that lady.”
After a pause Charlotte thought to ask, “But did Mr. Darcy tell you this directly, or are you inferring from his words what happened?
“I did not speak with Mr. Darcy on this matter, said Elizabeth.” I met Colonel Fitzwilliam, and he related the tale himself. He did not know the name of the lady from whom Mr. Darcy had ‘rescued’ Mr. Bingley. That is the only positive part of the story. Still it was unmistakable that Mr. Darcy, full of pride in his accomplishment, had caused his friend to be removed from Netherfield.”
At the mention of Colonel Fitzwilliam, Charlotte dropped her netting on the floor. She and Elizabeth bent together to pick it up, crashing their heads. Once they had recovered their seats, Elizabeth laughed. “We are a spectacle. How fortunate it is that no one has seen us.”
Charlotte rang the bell. When Nancy appeared, she ordered two cold cloths for their aching brows. “You were walking with Colonel Fitzwilliam?”
“Yes,” said Elizabeth. “He said he often walks the grounds at the end of a visit to Rosings. He said that he and Darcy had planned to be off several days ago, but they have put it off. I can’t think why. It can’t possibly be amusing to spend many days with their aunt.”
“So,” thought Charlotte, “Frederick has managed to delay his departure so as to spend more time with me.” The thought made her so happy that she smiled as she placed the cloth on her forehead.
“But then,” continued Elizabeth, “there must be many details to clarify before Darcy and Lady Anne can be married. No simple wedding will do for that couple. Why, the monetary settlements alone would require an army of solicitors to prepare the papers that would bind them.”
“How many days do you think the men will stay?” asked Charlotte.
“If it were up to me, I would send them away no later than tomorrow morning. My greatest wish is that I do not ever again be in a room with Mr. Darcy.”
“Then you will be distressed to recall that we are invited for this evening,” said Charlotte.
“Oh, I cannot,” cried Elizabeth. To the distress of both women, she began to cry. I cannot see him tonight. I am not well.”
Mr. Collins, responding to her cry, heard her words. “My dear cousin Elizabeth, I am sorry if you are ill, but I fear Lady Catherine will be most displeased if you fail to answer her kind invitation. She is very likely to take your absence as an sign of lack of proper respect and appreciation on your part.”
“You must offer my apologies, Mr. Collins,” said Elizabeth.
“Husband,” added Charlotte, “Elizabeth is ill. You are unkind to press her in this fashion. Further, you are imputing unkindness to Lady Catherine, who, I am sure, would never take offense at the failure of a guest who felt ill to appear in her drawing room on this one occasion.”
“My dear wife,” began Mr. Collins, but he was silenced by the stony eyes she turned to him. Not for the first time he wondered to whom he was expected to pay more deference, his patroness or his wife.
Mr. and Mrs. Collins and their sister Maria arrived at Rosings at the appointed time. A lavish small supper awaited them.
“But Mrs. Collins,” said Lady Catherine, “where is your pretty young friend? I had expected her to be here. I find her rather amusing.”
Mr. Collins answered. “I am so sorry to tell you that my cousin Elizabeth is not in health. Even so she stated her intention of coming here tonight. She was concerned that her absence would be interpreted by you, Lady Catherine, as a slight. I assured her that you, known by everyone for your constant amiability and hospitality, would pardon her failure to answer your kind invitation. Still she would insist. I found that I had to forbid her most sternly, as I knew your ladyship would not wish her to be uncomfortable.”
“Quite right, Mr. Collins,” said Lady Catherine. “You have represented my wishes perfectly. But, Darcy? Where are you going at this hour? We are about to begin our game of whist.”
Mr. Darcy bowed to the room and left. Not even the reproaches of his aunt, which became louder and more demanding, served to make him return to the drawing room. Charlotte risked an inquisitive look at Colonel Fitzwilliam, who shook his head slightly in a show of puzzlement.
“Fitzwilliam, where has Darcy gone,” queried Lady Catherine. “This behavior is extraordinary. It is nearly dark, and here he has disappeared.”
“Perhaps, Aunt, he felt suddenly ill. If that is the case, we should not follow,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I am positive he will return to us when he can.”
“I do not understand,” complained Lady Catherine. “Anne, he said nothing to you?”
The girl shook her head. “I know nothing about my cousin Darcy or his intentions.” Puzzled, Charlotte saw her look to Fitzwilliam, as if for his approval.
The evening proceeded in its usual fashion; Charlotte was called upon this once to play on the instrument to provide a pleasant background for the card game. Colonel Fitzwilliam, trapped in a partnership with Mr. Collins, watched for moments in which he could signal his surprise and delight at her skill. Charlotte had seldom felt a pleasure as great as the one that sprang from a few seconds of looking across the room into his eyes. She knew she was playing better than she ever had before.
At the appointed hour, the carriage was summoned to take the guests back to the rectory. Mr. Collins and Maria carried on their customary conversation, praising the dishes that had accompanied the coffee and praising Lady Catherine for her myriad kindnesses. Charlotte, who had hoped to relate Darcy’s surprising behavior to Elizabeth, found that her headache had been severe, for her friend was already sleeping in her room.
Elizabeth left the house directly after breakfast, having said scarcely a word to anyone. Charlotte repeated her now regular task of feeding the chickens and gathering the eggs, and as she had hoped, she soon had company.
“What did you understand of Mr. Darcy’s disappearance last night?” she asked, when she lay in the straw with her head on Colonel Fitzwilliam’s shoulder.”
“I don’t understand it, but he has today announced that we leave in the morning. Before the day is out, he and I will be by to pay our formal farewells.”
“As soon as that? But is this not quite a sudden decision?” asked Charlotte. She had known that this pleasant interlude with Frederick must end. When faced with the actuality she was not dismayed. She would miss his company, but it would be pleasant to revert to her practical self without constant fear of discovery and disgrace.
“I myself was quite willing to stay longer,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, He twisted a lock of her hair into curls. “I have, in fact, never before enjoyed Rosings as I have this Easter, but I am Darcy’s to command. That is not to forget that in another week I must be with my regiment.”
“I shall miss you,” said Charlotte. “It is hard to think that I will not see you for another year.”
“Perhaps my respect and affection for my aunt and cousin Anne will impel me to return sooner than that,” said he as he kissed her.
Mr. Darcy did arrive at the rectory where he most politely bade his farewells to Charlotte, Maria, and Mr. Collins. He stayed only a few minutes, saying he had things to which he must attend. Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived separately, and under the pretense of waiting to say good-bye to Elizabeth who apparently still rambled in Rosings Park, managed to stay almost an hour in the sitting room. Eventually, even he acknowledged that he was sure to be needed by his cousin.
Mr. Coll
ins saw him to the door, never noticing his special smile as he parted from Charlotte. When her husband returned, he said, “I followed Colonel Fitzwilliam to the road, but he seemed to head for the village. I would think he would not want to miss a minute he could spend with Lady Catherine.”
“Perhaps he had an errand,” said Maria. “We shall miss him. He has been excellent company, has he not, sister?”
“None better,” said Charlotte. “We shall miss him indeed.”
Chapter Seven
MR. COLLINS, WHO HAD been waiting by the lodges to bow to the departing Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, entered the breakfast room. “Happily theyey both looked in very good health and spirits,” said he, “which is more remarkable when we consider the melancholy farewell in which they have just participated.”
“That is indeed a favorable report, husband,” said Charlotte. “I am sure we are relieved to know that all went as well as we had hoped.” She thought briefly of the departed Frederick, and then remembered her resolve to put him from her mind until he should return to Rosings.
“Evenings will be much duller for us without them,” said Maria. “And I am sure they will be very much missed by Lady Catherine and Lady Anne.”
“As their pastor, I fear they are in need of the type of consolation that only I can provide them. I shall now betake myself to Rosings to offer my condolences for their loss.”
“My dear husband,” said Charlotte, “they are not dead. Remember that this separation is only temporary and speak accordingly.”
When Mr. Collins returned from offering his professional sympathy to Lady de Bourgh and her daughter, he had the pleasure of proffering an invitation for all to dine at Rosings that very evening. Lady Catherine was in need of diversion. Lady Anne also needed their company. “I found her quite undone,” said Mr. Collins. “She has taken this loss very hard.”
Charlotte noticed that Elizabeth was rather quiet as they dressed. “Are you troubled by anything, my dear? I hope all is well at home.”