by Ola Wegner
Mr. Collins gaped at him, closing and opening his mouth.
“You cannot do that,” Mr. Collins spoke meekly, in a high pitched voice. “I am the Master here now. My noble patroness, Lady Catherine, your aunt, told me to come here without delay, in order to take over my new possessions.”
As Elizabeth looked up at Darcy, she saw him grinding his teeth, his jaw line tense, his face set in an ugly grimace.
“Go back to the library and wait for me there, Collins.” he growled.
Mr. Collins opened his mouth to say something, but Darcy seemed to change his mind with a hard stare. The parson turned on his heels, obediently making his way to the pointed room.
Elizabeth bit her lip to prevent herself from bursting into tears. “He will throw us out,” she choked. “Perhaps even before the funeral. Mama will not survive this.”
“Nothing like that will happen, love,” Darcy said calmly, placing his hands on her shaking shoulders. “I shall talk to him; do not worry.”
She lifted her eyes full of tears. “Your aunt told him to come here. He listens to everything she says. He will not even allow us to take our personal things, I am certain. What are we going to do now?”
“You will go upstairs to your mother,” he spoke slowly. “I will talk with that creature of a cousin of yours. I promise you that he will be gone from here before evening.”
“But…” she started to speak, stopping when he put a gloved finger on her lips.
“Have a little faith in me, love.”
A sob broke through her tight throat, and she began to cry in earnest.
“Shush,” he wiped the tears from her cheeks with his handkerchief. “There is no need to cry.” He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her.
She closed her eyes, taking comfort in his embrace as his hand stroked her back in soothing touches.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart as she pulled away from him. “Perhaps I should talk to him?” she suggested.
“No, love,” he disagreed, his voice gentle but firm. He turned her by the arms towards the staircase, and pushed her gently.
Elizabeth climbed a few steps before she turned to look at him. He was standing by the library door, clearly waiting for her to disappear from his view.
As she reached the landing, she was tempted to go back quietly and wait at the library door, hoping to hear something.
The door to her mother’s room opened and Mr. Gardiner stepped out.
“Lizzy, your mother has been asking for you,” he said. “She is awaiting you.”
“Oh, uncle,” she rushed to him. “Mr. Collins is here.”
He nodded. “Yes, I am aware of that. My sister has already told me the news. He came the day before yesterday, late at night. It put your mother into hysterics, and this time I honestly cannot blame her for reacting as she is. She has not left her room since then, I understand.”
“Oh, uncle, I fear that he will simply throw us out without any consideration.”
Mr. Gardiner’s expression turned troubled, his eyebrows drawn together. “I do not wish to scare you, but from what your mother and younger sisters told me about his behaviour since he arrived here almost two days ago, I believe that you may be right on that, niece. He may try. I will go now and talk with him.”
“Mr. Darcy is there already, talking with him.”
“He is?” her uncle asked, his face instantly more relaxed.
She nodded. “Mr. Collins saw us together, standing close, as Mr. Darcy touched me…” she blushed. “He began to call me names… and Mr. Darcy stopped him, ordering him to go to the library.”
“And Collins did?”
“Yes, he did. Then Mr. Darcy sent me here, going to the library himself.”
“Well, Lizzy, I think that you are a very lucky girl. Things might become very ugly without Darcy’s presence here with us. His name alone is enough to protect you, your mother, and your sisters. You do as your betrothed asked you and greet your mother. I will join Mr. Darcy in the library.”
Elizabeth wanted to go with her uncle and witness the conversation with Mr. Collins, but she knew that neither Mr. Gardiner nor Mr. Darcy would welcome her there.
She knocked on the door to her mother’s room and walked in.
As she expected, her mother was half lying in the bed with all her sisters except Lydia gathered around her.
“Lizzy!” she cried out as soon as she saw her, opening her arms.
“Mama!”Elizabeth ran to her, sat on the edge of the bed, and returned the embrace.
Before she could say anything, her mother surrounded her with questions. “Oh, Lizzy, is it true what I hear from my brother and Jane? Are you engaged to Mr. Darcy? Is he truly here? Has he brought you in his carriage?”
“He is here, Mama,” Lydia who just entered the room replied instead of her. “I listened at the library door. Mr. Darcy is there talking with Mr. Collins and Uncle Gardiner. I heard raised voices, but I could not hear exactly what they were saying.” She glanced at Elizabeth. “However, earlier, I heard as Mr. Darcy told Mr. Collins that he would throw him out of the house if he did not stop making rude remarks to Lizzy.”
Mrs. Bennet's eyes moved from Lydia to Elizabeth, who understood that her youngest sister had been hiding downstairs the entire time, witnessing everything, including her interaction with Darcy. She was not in the least surprised with Lydia’s behaviour. Moreover, she was almost certain that it was their mother who had asked her sister to do that.
“Is it true, Lizzy? I must hear it from you,” the woman insisted.
Elizabeth gave her a pale smile. “Yes, Mama. I am engaged to Mr. Darcy. He came here with me to help us.”
Mrs. Bennet sat speechless for a good minute before she began to cry and laugh interchangeably. She loudly thanked the heavens several times for rescuing all of them.
“Now, Lizzy,” her mother spoke as she calmed herself. “You must tell me everything. Where did you meet him?”
“In Kent, Mama. We met again in Kent,” Elizabeth answered evenly.
“Kent? What was he doing there? Did he come to see you?”
“No, Mama. He came to visit his aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings Park.”
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes widened. “That horrible woman who told Mr. Collins to come here is his aunt?!”
“Mama, Mr. Collins mentioned that Lady Catherine is Mr. Darcy’s aunt during his previous visit,” Jane reminded.
The older woman frowned. “I do not recall him saying that. It is of no importance now. Lizzy,” she turned to her second daughter, patting her hand. “You met in Kent and then what happened? How did you manage to catch him?”
Elizabeth barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. With a resigned sigh, she began telling in short words the tale of their unusual courtship. She confessed that she had not expected the proposal, but she did not mention that she had refused when Darcy asked for the first time. It was a personal matter between Darcy and herself, and her mother and younger sisters did not have to know everything. The Gardiners were not gossipers, and they would never betray her confidence; nor would Jane, naturally.
“He promised to help us?” Her mother reached for her hand, squeezing it.
“Yes, Mama. He promised to buy a house for you, and ensure my sisters’ future.”
“He did.” Mrs. Bennet smiled blissfully. “He did. Thank you, God.” She closed her eyes, bringing her hands together like in a prayer.
“I must say that I am very proud of you, Lizzy,” Mrs. Bennet spoke after a moment. “You are such a smart girl. I always knew that you were not so smart for nothing.”
“I think I should return downstairs, Mama,” Elizabeth stood up.
“Oh, yes, go Lizzy, go,” Mrs. Bennet encouraged her. “I will dress myself to greet him. Before that, I need to talk with Hill about dinner. Jane, Jane, send Hill to me. We must make sure that the guest bedroom is prepared for him and that the best bed clothes are placed. I am certain that Mr. Darcy is hu
ngry after such a long journey and talking with that horrible Mr. Collins. Lizzy, what is Mr. Darcy’s favourite dish?”
“I do not know, Mama,” Elizabeth answered.
“Then go and ask him, girl, so we may cook it for him for dinner!”
Elizabeth left the room quietly, listening to her mother ordering her sisters around. Mama seemed her old self. It pained her that she had not mentioned Papa even once.
She walked to the library doors and listened. It was quiet. Lydia had mentioned raised voices, but now no sound was heard.
As she knocked, she heard her uncle’s voice calling to enter.
Mr. Darcy and Mr. Gardiner were standing by the window. Mr. Collins was nowhere in sight.
“Elizabeth,” her uncle spoke first. “You may thank this gentleman here, as Mr. Collins shall not bother us for the time being.”
She walked to Darcy, standing by him. “Truly?”
He smiled down at her. “He is gone. He will stay at the inn in Meryton, I believe, or return to Kent.”
“How did you accomplish that?” she asked in curiosity.
“I threatened him,” he answered flatly.
She heard her uncle's retreating steps. As she glanced behind, she saw Mr. Gardiner closing the door carefully behind him, leaving them alone.
“Threatened him?” she repeated, her attention on Darcy again. “I do not understand.”
“I told him that my friend, the archbishop, would gladly hear how he treated his relatives in the face of family tragedy. Throwing away a mother with five children, a few days after her husband’s death is not something that a clergyman should do, after all.”
“He believed you? Are you truly the archbishop’s friend?”
Darcy gave her a half smile. “Not exactly, however my father befriended him in Oxford, and he is my godfather. I have not seen him since my father’s death, but I am certain that he remembers me, and would not refuse me a small favour if I asked him.”
Elizabeth took her eyes from his face, staring in front of herself. She had no idea that Mr. Darcy had such connections.
“I negotiated with Collins that you have three months to leave Longbourn. I am sure that we shall find something suitable for your mother and sisters within this time. I have also announced to him that he is not welcome during the funeral.”
“Mr. Darcy,” she started with emotion. “I truly do not know what to say. I feel humbled by your goodness. I do not want to think what would have happened, had you not been here. Thank you.”
Impulsively, she reached for his hand, lifting it to her lips. He stopped her, before she could kiss it.
“Do not ever do that, Elizabeth,” he ordered harshly, placing his hands on her arms. “It is not necessary,” he added in a gentler tone.
“Thank you,” she said again. She wanted to show him her gratitude, but she was not certain how to do that.
“Speak no more about it,” he hushed her, bringing her closer.
With trust, she went into his arms, placing her head on his chest.
She felt his chest rising and falling, before he let out a quiet sigh. She raised up on her toes and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “Thank you,” she whispered one more time. She hoped that he would understand how grateful she was.
“You are welcome,” she heard, feeling a kiss on the side of her neck. He had one hand wrapped around her waist, and the other placed higher on her back, stroking her nape.
She had to admit that she liked the way his touch felt on her body. He was very gentle, never forceful, but he seemed to carry some hard object in the pocket of his coat. It was poking at her upper leg.
Slowly, she pushed away from his embrace and looked up at him with smile. “Mama asks about your favourite dish. She wants the cook to prepare it for dinner.”
He frowned. “I think I should go. It would be better if I stay at the inn.”
“No, you cannot,” she protested with energy. “Mama will never allow that. She is already preparing the guest room for you. It is much more comfortable than the rooms at the inn.”
He seemed unconvinced. “Will I not impose? You are grieving.”
She shook her head vehemently. “Please stay. You will have company in Uncle Gardiner.”
He smiled in agreement. “As you wish, if it pleases you.”
“It does,” she smiled back. “What about your favourite dish? Mama will demand an answer from me, and if she does not receive it, she will bother you.”
Darcy presented an exaggerated, terrified expression. “I like everything well enough except carrots. I like fish.”
She blinked at him. “Carrots?”
“Yes. I do not eat carrots,” he informed her.
She nodded. “No carrots for Mr. Darcy.”
“My mother forced me to eat them when I was a child,” he offered as an explanation. “Nasty orange things.”
“Do you wish to refresh yourself and rest before dinner perhaps?” she asked, taking his hand in hers. “I will show you to your room.”
He smiled shyly. “Yes, please.”
She led him out of the library, thinking what a contradiction this man was. One moment he was haughty and arrogant only to become sweet and boyish the next one. Perhaps she should trust him when he claimed to love her? What could be another explanation for everything he had done for her and her family today?
Chapter Nine
Darcy’s first night in Longbourn passed peacefully. He chose to retire early, feeling considerably awkward in the room full of women. Elizabeth was kind to keep his company, staying close to him, as if she sensed his discomfort. Regretfully, he could hardly talk with her freely with her mother and sisters listening to his every word. Mr. Gardiner was quiet and lost deep in thought. Darcy guessed that he was worried for his wife and sick child whom he had left in London.
Mrs. Bennet asked Darcy some questions, visibly attempting to engage him into conversation. He offered polite answers; however, in general, he found talking with her bothersome. There was one vast similarity between Elizabeth’s mother, and Darcy’s aunt Lady Catherine, despite the obvious differences between them. A man could never expect what new idiocy would fall out of their mouths.
Darcy praised the dinner to Mrs. Bennet, which indeed was very tasty. Elizabeth must have repeated exactly what he had told her about his favourite dish, because there was fish prepared in three different ways on the table, cooked, fried, and in jelly. Moreover, no carrots were present, not even in the soup.
As he had gone to sleep before nine, almost like a baby, he woke up early, at five. He was shaved and dressed by six, and decided to take a morning walk. He considered going to Netherfield to see whether Bingley had indeed arrived yesterday, as he had planned to do when they had talked last time. It was only a three-mile walk, and as Elizabeth had once travelled the distance on foot, he could do it as well.
As he came downstairs, he thought to hear Elizabeth’s voice. He followed the sound, finding her in the small room at the back of the house. She and Jane, dressed entirely in black, were kneeling in front of the open cabinet, looking through some linens.
Shuffling his feet, hoping to be noticed, he cleared his throat.
Both women turned simultaneously to look at him.
“Mr. Darcy, you are awake so early,” Elizabeth noted, rising to her feet.
Jane stood as well, her arms full of what looked like tablecloths to him. Darcy bowed his head in her direction. She answered him with a warm smile and nod of her own.
“You are up early as well, ladies,” he spoke conversationally.
Elizabeth’s face saddened visibly, and he was at loss what caused this.
“We do not rise so early on a daily basis,” Jane explained kindly. “However, as the funeral is tomorrow, we must make preparations and plan the meal for the guests. Later today, Mama expects possible callers, so it was decided that we should began our day as early soon as possible. Uncle Gardiner will be absent for most of the day, taking ca
re of the arrangements concerning the burial itself.”
Darcy did not respond to Jane’s words, only looked away, berating himself inwardly. Naturally, they would start their day earlier than usual, needing to prepare the house for the funeral. He had a rare talent for saying things which offended, or saddened others. Usually he did not care, but not in this case.
Jane , her arms full, made her way to the door. “I will bring these to Mama, Lizzy,” she said, leaving them alone.
He was both surprised and relieved when Elizabeth stepped up to him, smiling.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, dearest,” he said, grinning back at her.
Her beautiful eyes were looking into his, and he sensed that she was still pleased with him today. He more than liked that. She had never before gazed at him like this, with admiration. Who knew that the idiot Collins would have turned out to be so useful to him? She was obviously impressed with how he had managed the situation with the parson yesterday. He could bask in her warm eyes like in the summer sun the entire day and night, especially night. He wondered what the expression in her eyes would be when she was well loved after he had pleased her.
He took his time to appraise her appearance. She looked impossibly small and delicate in her black dress. Her hair was drawn into a tight, heavy looking braid, laid over her shoulder, the end tied with a black ribbon resting against the top of her bosom. He marvelled that the braid must be almost as thick as his hand. He craved to see her hair let free, strewn around her shoulders, down her back and scarcely covering her bare breasts.
“Are you done, sir?”
He blinked rapidly, focusing his eyes on her face again. “Excuse me?”
She smirked, ducking her head. “Forgive me, it was rude of me. I noticed you gazing at me, so I wished to ask whether you were finished with your staring.”
He gaped at her for a moment, not sure how to react. “You are teasing me,” he stated, frowning.
Her dark eyes met his. “Do you mind?”
“No, not at all,” he murmured quietly, leaning to her, searching her face.
He noticed with pleasure that her pale cheeks flushed a delicate pink. The fact that he was able to affect her made this already pleasant morning even better. Only a few days had passed since he had professed his feelings to her, and despite her denial, he could see that she was not indifferent to him. He had high hopes for the future, becoming even higher with the every new blush he elicited from her.