On the whole, life had fallen into a contented routine. As Elizabeth had declared to her aunt before her wedding, she was not entirely content at Longbourn, there was vexation there. At Hunsford, she found less to provoke and spent her time occupied with her poultry and managing her household. She wisely chose to not hear Mr. Collins’ more embarrassing speeches. Instead, Elizabeth employed a tactic she used when learning French. She translating his words as he spoke into a more satisfactory arrangement and meaning. Unfortunately, such a trick had not assisted her with acquiring fluency in speaking French, nor did it assist with finding all the praise or subservience her husband and Lady Catherine seemed to often feel was required.
One thing was entirely intolerable, though. Elizabeth increasingly worried for Jane. Her letters proved her to be in depressed spirits. At last, a letter came recounting Miss Bingley’s call on Gracechurch street and her rude behavior. She had not written or called in the intervening weeks and Jane had no delusion that Miss Bingley intended to give up the friendship. Jane was still too kind on the subject, acquiting Miss Bingley of her conduct, but Jane did not excuse her of everything. Even Jane wondered by this point if Miss Bingley had some duplicitous design in their friendship. She ended the letter stating she was determined to forget Mr. Bingley.
From then on, Jane never again recounted the earlier events but every letter proved a want of cheerfulness. By March, Elizabeth was truly concerned for her sister’s health and welfare.
“My dear Mr. Collins,” she said one day at dinner. “do you recall your excessively kind offer that we might retrieve one or two of my sisters when the weather warmed?”
“I do not recall saying such but if it would please you, there is nothing I would deny you.” Elizabeth smiled, not at his words, but at proof that her tactic worked. He still said empty compliments, but she was pleased she had learned how to work them in her favor.
“Jane is still in London. Making arrangements for her visit would be very manageable.”
She watched to see if he seemed unduly interested in Jane visiting and was pleased when he did not. “If you think that it best to take her from London, then by all means we shall plan for it. As eldest she ought to receive our favour before the others in any case. Lady Catherine will be pleased to be of use to her in some way.”
“Wonderful. I shall write my aunt when we are finished.”
Mr. Collins’ attention returned to his plate and Elizabeth’s mind turned to her letter.
Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner arranged to accompany Jane on the journey. They could only stay a few days, but Elizabeth was pleased when they were invited to Rosings for dinner. She suspected Anne influenced her mother, who otherwise would be unlikely to dine with a tradesman and his wife. Elizabeth rejoiced in the presence of her sister. Jane thankfully was healthy and well, only her heart still sick from the autumn. She was convinced she had made the correct choice in preventing Jane from marrying Mr. Collins. For all Jane’s declarations that she had moved on from Bingley and that she could have managed to be content and even her usual serenity, it was evident to her that Jane could not entirely conceal her feelings or modify them on command.
Lady Catherine’s meddlesome mind clearly turned toward finding Jane a match while she was in the area, as though it would be as simple as all the governess positions she doled out.
About a week after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner left, Lady Catherine reported her nephews, Mr. Darcy and the Earl’s younger son, would soon visit. “They are both such splendid young men and excessively attached to Rosings,” she said with a significant nod directed at Anne. Elizabeth looked forward to the variety they would add to the party and particularly wondered how Anne would behave toward her imaginary husband to be.
A day or two later, Elizabeth was out walking alone while Jane was still abed in the morning and happened upon Anne in her phaeton. The two ladies often met in such an occurrence and enjoyed a few minutes’ conversation.
“I look forward to my cousins’ arrival tomorrow,” Anne said.
“Really?” Elizabeth said. “I had thought you did not mean to ever marry.”
“I do not and no matter what my mother hints at or says there has never been anything arranged between Darcy and me. I see your sister’s depressed spirits and think they might do her some good. They are both excessively charming and kind gentlemen.”
Elizabeth could not hide her look of surprise at applying such words to Mr. Darcy.
“You knew Darcy in Hertfordshire, correct?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth answered.
“I saw your look a moment ago. Tell me, what is he like with strangers?”
Elizabeth laughed. “I shall tell you, but it is particularly dreadful,” she waited for Anne’s eyes to light with merriment. “We met at a ball and he would not dance with any lady but that of the party he came with!”
Anne shook her head. “Oh, yes. That would give quite the poor first impression. He does hate dancing second only to be being told what to do. Well, he must have improved from that, although it is no wonder he suffers in comparison to Mr. Bingley.”
“Do you know Mr. Bingley?” Elizabeth asked. She could not help but wonder if she could gain any new information for Jane, who still suffered from heartbreak.
“Only a little. I have met his sisters as well. Darcy cares very much about Mr. Bingley’s welfare, I know.”
“Oh, indeed!” Elizabeth exclaimed with clear sarcasm.
“You may think it odd that a young man of Mr. Bingley’s age and situation in life may need someone to consider his well-being but from what Darcy wrote in a recent letter, I am inclined to believe it necessary.”
“What did he say?”
“Well, he did not say it was Bingley, I only inferred that it was because I know he spent so much time with him and from other things I have heard believed Bingley would be the sort that would get into this kind of trouble. But I had better not say.”
“Come, you know there is no one I talk to besides you anyway.”
“He congratulated himself on saving a friend from an imprudent marriage.”
“And what reasons did he have for such interference?”
“There were strong objections against the lady.”
“Ah, and how did he achieve his goal?”
“I do not know more. He gave no other details.”
Unable to hide her indignation, Elizabeth walked on.
“Lizzy! What has you so upset?” Anne called as she directed her ponies onward.
“Why should he be the judge?”
“You think he was officious?”
“Why was he to direct how his friend would be happy?” She took a deep breath and calmed herself. Anne did not deserve her anger and it would not do to offend her over the actions of her stupid cousin. “But I suppose there must not have been much affection in the case.”
“That would be the logical conclusion, and yet it hardly seems worth my cousin saying anything at all if the inclination would die a natural death in a matter of weeks.”
Elizabeth bit her cheek rather than cry out in pain for Jane. She consulted her watch. “I had better return to the Parsonage now and surely your mother has need of you at the house before the anticipated visit.”
“Do not remind me. You go on but I think I will drive around one more time,” she said with a huff.
When Elizabeth reached her home, she scurried to her chamber. She had always assumed Miss Bingley had the greater blame for her brother’s defection but now she could see how it would be Mr. Darcy all along. His pride could not suffer that one of his friends would be attached to someone with so little fortune and with connections to trade. Had she not been particularly acquainted with the arrogance and conceit of his relation these last three months? He was the cause for all that Jane had suffered and still suffered. It was impossible for Mr. Darcy to have complaints regarding Jane directly.
While Elizabeth did not think her family entirely above reproach, she also knew the lack o
f sense Mr. Darcy’s aunt often displayed. He could not esteem her ladyship and ridicule the Bennet family for the same lack of propriety. His disapproval must come entirely from their lack of importance.
By the time Jane awoke, Elizabeth had managed to dry her tears but a headache was left in its wake. Although Jane sat with her, Elizabeth found little solace. She had born with Lady Catherine’s arrogance and her husband’s ridiculousness well enough. How was she to look at Mr. Darcy? To be civil to him when they called at Rosings? Her only comfort was in the fact that he would be far too proud to call on the Parsonage. She hoped with the arrival of the gentlemen, Lady Catherine’s invitations would temporarily cease. She could possibly manage to avoid seeing him entirely, deciding she was not above employing fake illness to miss church while he was in the county. With any luck, Jane would be in love and married to some deserving and amiable gentleman by Mr. Darcy’s next visit to the area and Elizabeth might be able to look upon him without malice in her heart.
Chapter Five
Rosings, Kent
March 24, 1812
Darcy’s hands were sweating as he and his cousin followed Mr. Collins to the Hunsford Parsonage. His aunt mentioned in her most recent letter that the new Mrs. Collins had been acquainted with him in Hertfordshire, and her sister, Miss Bennet, had recently arrived to stay with the couple. It appeared he had been correct in separating his best friend from Jane Bennet since the lady married where her mother told her to. No matter, at last, he would see Elizabeth again.
He had expected his fascination with the lady to cease when he was no longer in her company, but he was mistaken in himself. He undoubtedly preferred her to every other lady of his acquaintance. As the months slipped by, he realized he would be willing to take on the degradation of a connection to her relations in trade, and he could accept his in-laws’ numerous improprieties. Plenty of members of the ton had far more scandalous families. Darcy had the highest pride in his own legacy but hoped marriage to Elizabeth did not mean he had to socialise with her family. They never came to London, and Darcy would not finance their trips. Once married, he and Elizabeth could visit Longbourn a few times a year; it was close enough to London. Pemberley was too far away for the Bennets to visit on their income.
Yes, it could all work out nicely. The only problem was that he had not kept an acquaintance with the Bennets and his only way of doing so, through Miss Bingley keeping in touch with Miss Jane Bennet, was destroyed by his agreement to protect Bingley. In the back of his mind, he was aware of his hypocrisy, claiming Bingley should not marry Jane Bennet while he schemed for a way to meet Elizabeth Bennet again, but he pushed it aside. He had been right to caution his friend if for no other reason than the lack of affection evidenced by Miss Bennet. He had almost accepted some plan to meet Elizabeth’s London relations when his aunt’s letter arrived. This would be his redemption, his salvation. He could meet Elizabeth again at Hunsford, propose, and other than a meeting or two and the wedding, would scarcely need any contact at all with her abominable family.
Now he sat in the Parsonage’s sitting-room, drinking his fill of Elizabeth’s fine eyes and shiny, dancing curls. Darcy realised he had been silent since entering and extended some civilities.
Looking at Mrs. Collins, he said, “This seems to be a very comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford, but I am certain the present lightness is owed all to you, Mrs. Collins.” The compliment was genuine; he was surprised at the taste the present parlour afforded.
He was startled to hear Elizabeth reply, “I thank you, Mr. Darcy.”
In horror, he saw Mr. Collins bound over to Elizabeth, put a hand on her shoulder and begin to speak, but Elizabeth interrupted. Her eyes looked strained, and there was a twinge of pink on her cheeks as she spoke. “I assure you she could not have bestowed her kindness on more grateful objects.”
Darcy looked incredulously at Jane, who gave her sister a sad smile.
“Oh, Lizzy! You forgot your lace cap again.”
“Forgive me.” Elizabeth murmured. She stood and searched the room for one. She looked in the mirror hastily as she placed it on her head. “I had just returned from a walk.”
Darcy’s heart shattered to see her spirits so low; to think of how often she must feel the need to flee her own home.
Mr. Collins had sidled up to Darcy and whispered to him. “My dear Mrs. Collins and I have but one mind and one way of thinking. There is in everything a most remarkable resemblance of character and ideas between us. We seem to have been designed for each other. And I wish you every bit of such similar felicity in your upcoming marriage to Miss de Bourgh.”
Before Darcy could stutter some response, the parson continued.
“And I believe you have done much to increase your betrothed’s affection by paying your attentions elsewhere instead of at Rosings for all these months. I know from experience. Mrs. Collins rejected my proposals at first and claimed no great affection for me until I began to bestow my attention on my cousin Jane, and then Mrs. Collins came gratefully to me. We have been blissfully happy since just after Christmas. So you see, sir, I am certain Miss de Bourgh will prove quite an eager bride.”
Mr. Collins appeared entirely insensible that the occupants of the room had turned bright red during his speech as it grew in volume. That Mr. Collins had been pushed towards Elizabeth had been evident to Darcy at the Netherfield ball, but he had no worries she would accept him. It had been abundantly clear Mrs. Bennet expected Jane to marry Bingley. Shortly after the ball, Mr. Collins must have proposed to Elizabeth, who refused him. Mr. Collins then turned his eyes on Jane, undoubtedly encouraged by the absence of Bingley, and Elizabeth intervened on her sister’s behalf. The torment Darcy now understood—of seeing Elizabeth married to this ridiculous man, a man she could not respect and who could not treasure her—was his own doing!
He sat numbly in his chair, incapable of speech, as Collins carried on and on, and Colonel Fitzwilliam talked with the ladies, making them laugh. Elizabeth occasionally glanced at Jane, appearing to search her sister’s face, but more often than not looked mostly disconcerted. Jane was not in the best of humour either. Darcy perceived the difference in the way she accepted Colonel Fitzwilliam’s attentions to the way she had accepted Bingley’s. He grew increasingly uneasy.
“Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth’s voice was the only thing that could register in his mind at this point, and he turned his eyes to her.
“Pardon, my distraction…” He could not bear to call her Mrs. Collins.
“My sister was asking you if Mr. and Miss Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, were in good health when last you saw them.”
He looked at Jane, who was quite pink. “Very, I had the pleasure of seeing them the day before last.”
Jane looked excessively relieved. Before he knew it, she had tears streaming down her face. “Oh, thank goodness. My aunt had written of several families in the area contracting a fever. You are certain Mr. Bingley…that is, all of them, are quite well?”
Jane’s concern for Bingley was unmistakable. “Miss Bennet, I assure you the Bingleys and the Hursts were in the best of health when I left Town. I will be happy to forward your concerns to Mr. Bingley and his family, though. They do you great credit.”
Elizabeth looked at him sharply as he spoke, and Darcy was sure she perceived the truth. It was impossible to explain his regrets to her. As a married lady, he was only allowed to speak to her with the barest civility on a confined selection of topics. Under the present circumstances, he found it nearly impossible to speak at all. But the distress and concern on her face for her sister, a sentiment he understood entirely, caused him to act when nothing else could. He simply could not allow Elizabeth to think ill of him.
“How long do you remain in Kent, Miss Bennet?” Darcy asked.
“I shall depart in just over three weeks.”
“And do you return to London?”
“Only for a d
ay, sir.”
“That is quite unfortunate. My aunt informed me of your visit in her most recent letter, and I made mention of it to my friends when I recently spoke with them. They regretted they did not have more time to visit with you while you were in London, and enthusiastically hoped to see you again.” It was near the truth, for Bingley certainly hoped to see Miss Bennet again; he still spoke of her.
Jane’s eyes lit up, and she looked to Elizabeth, who smiled and nodded. His message had been received. It now fell to him to explain the matter to and hope for his forgiveness.
At long last, Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed ready to depart. Darcy looked around uneasily. He could never bear to call here again.
While collecting his hat and gloves from the table near the main door, he overheard Elizabeth and Jane, who trailed behind. “You see, Lizzy! I told you Mr. Darcy was not so awful. There was no wilful deceit to keep Mr. Bingley from me. And I still believe Mr. Wickham misunderstood the will.”
Darcy was blessed with sensitive hearing and so was well able to detect Jane’s whisperings to Elizabeth. The same could be said of his cousin Richard, for suddenly Darcy was being hurried out the door. He had missed his chance to have even one last look at Elizabeth. He was left with the shattering knowledge that she had never even liked him and doubted his character entirely.
Darcy left the next day. He could not bear to be near Elizabeth any longer. Before his departure, he also made it plain to Lady Catherine he would never marry his cousin Anne. Lady Catherine spewed forth nothing but vitriol. He could almost wish for a permanent breach in the relationship. He knew not how he could ever return to Rosings and see Eliza…Mrs. Collins, again.
One Autumn with Darcy Page 35