by Wynne Mabry
The colonel sighed. “I know you too well, Darcy. I think it safe to assume that you were very insulting.”
“I probably was.”
“And then?”
“She went and talked with some friends. They were all laughing a great deal.”
“I am sure it was only what you deserved for slighting her. Then what?”
“The next time I saw her, she was laughing again. Not at me though. Just laughing at something amusing, like she often does. There was the most delightful sparkle in her eyes.”
“It is a pity you did not see that at the assembly.”
“It really is, but one cannot undo the past.”
“That is also a pity. I can think of many things I would happily undo, but never mind that. Go on about Miss Bennet.”
“Every time I saw her, she seemed even more delightful.”
“Did you actually talk to her, or were you just standing there observing?”
“I did not know what to say.”
“Oh, heaven help us. You were falling in love with her from a distance, and it never occurred to you that she could not like you back without being given a chance to actually know you?”
“I was not thinking of encouraging her to like me. In fact, considering her circumstances, I thought it was better to discourage any such possibility.”
“Well, you certainly succeeded at that. I am happy to be able to give you a little credit for something.”
“Do not be facetious. Especially on such a day.”
“It is a day of your making. You must realise that. I really am very sorry about your disappointment, but you must open your eyes to why this happened. You did not even try to win Miss Bennet’s heart. You asked for her hand without first earning her affections. Anybody with any sense could see that she is not the sort of lady who would jump at the chance to marry you.”
“Then apparently I have no sense.”
“Apparently not. Now, do not take offense, Darcy. I am just trying to understand this. It is not surprising that she has no feelings for you, but was there any other reason for her to dislike you intensely? Something more than an insult at an assembly?”
“She gave me quite a few reasons. Arrogance, conceit, selfishness, and disdain were among them. She also has two particular grievances with me. One is that I ruined her sister’s happiness.”
“Did you?”
“It seems that I might have done, although that was not my intention. You may recall that I mentioned having recently saved a friend from an imprudent connection.”
“Yes. You did not give any names, but I thought it very likely that you were referring to Mr. Bingley.”
“I was, and the eldest Miss Bennet is the lady from whom I believed it best to separate him. I did not think she had any affection for him though. There was no appearance of it, but Miss Elizabeth has told me that her sister was heartbroken, for which she blames me.”
“I am afraid I may have had something to do with that. When we were walking yesterday, I told her of the service you had done for him.”
“Why would you do that?”
“It was relevant to the conversation. She said that you take very good care of Mr. Bingley, with which I agreed. I did not see any harm in mentioning that particular instance. After learning that she was here, you could have advised me of the connection.”
“I had no reason to think there was any need to do so. It did not occur to me that you would repeat what I said. Anyway, I was never intending to propose to her. I have been trying to conquer my feelings for her, not succumb to them.”
“I hope you did not tell her that.”
Instead of replying, Mr. Darcy turned red.
“You did tell her.” The colonel shook his head. “That was a terrible way to go about a proposal. You do not seem to have managed the matter with any competence. What about this other grievance? What else have you done?”
“Nothing. I am innocent of her second accusation, which was of having been a poor friend to Wickham.”
The colonel raised his eyebrows. “They know each other? What did he tell her?”
“That I deprived him of his livelihood and caused all his misfortunes.”
“Well at least you really are innocent of that. I could tell her if you like.”
“I already told her that she could apply to you for verification of the facts if she wished, but presumably she could not be bothered.”
“When did you tell her this?”
“I wrote a letter and gave it to her early this morning. Obviously, it had no effect upon her opinion. Her avoidance of me makes it clear that she chooses to believe Wickham. Did you see her?”
“No, I stayed for an hour, but she never joined us. A pity. I would have liked to say good-bye properly. She and I got along very well.”
That stung Mr. Darcy. If only he had more of cousin’s ease, he and Elizabeth might also have been good friends. “I expect she was avoiding both of us. Obviously, she did not want to hear anything you might have to say either.”
“She might have just been taking a long walk.”
“Nobody walks for that long. She knew that we would visit to take our leave, and as you say, she has been very friendly with you. Only something particular would have kept her away.”
“It may have been the awkwardness of the situation.”
“It was her loyalty to Wickham. She is in love with him.”
“How do you know that?”
“It was evident in her behaviour. She spoke so eagerly on his behalf, and her interest in his affairs is excessive. Her feelings for him were clear. Even if she did not hate me, there would still be no hope.”
“So you decided to marry Anne in a fit of anger.”
“I decided to marry somebody who will not care that I do not love her.”
“You might have waited and allowed yourself to love again.”
“I will never love again. It took me long enough to fall in love in the first place. There will not be anybody else.”
“Do you not think that a very short-sighted perspective?”
“I think that there was only one woman in the world for me.”
“So you decided to marry one whom you do not especially like. This does not bode well, Darcy. A man should never make decisions in anger. Especially decisions as important as this one. The day may come when you regret this choice.”
Elizabeth is Utterly Astonished
“Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam have departed from Rosings,” Mr. Collins announced, with the manner of someone making a momentous declaration instead of confirming an expected and not overly significant event. “I waited at the lodge and saw their carriage drive out not five minutes ago. Then I hurried back here to inform you.”
His shortness of breath was testament to the haste which he had apparently thought necessary. There was little that could be said in acknowledgement of this feat, but Mrs. Collins remarked that it looked as though the gentlemen would have a good day for their journey.
“I must hurry back to Rosings now,” the still-wheezing gentleman said. “It is my duty as Lady Catherine’s parson to condole with her over this loss.”
It was just the departure of guests, who obviously had to leave at some time, Elizabeth thought with irritation at her cousin’s absurdity. That sort of loss had little to do with a parson’s duty, but Mr. Collins was fond of visiting at Rosings, with or without a special reason.
“Lady Catherine bears it very well,” he reported upon returning an hour later. “Indeed, I thought she was in excellent spirits. Her ladyship sets a fine example of courageous resilience. But you will see that for yourself this evening. We are all invited to dine at Rosings.”
He was looking gleeful. Mr. Collins loved nothing more than an invitation to dine at Rosings. He was always enthusiastic about being asked to drink tea with her ladyship, or to make up her card tables, but dinner was the height of his social ambitions.
Elizabeth could not share his enthusi
asm for this invitation. Lady Catherine’s company had no appeal to her. Indeed, if she had ever considered accepting Mr. Darcy’s proposal, she would have had to seriously contemplate the disadvantage of being related to his proud, condescending, and very critical aunt. And he had been contemptuous of her family!
While she was dressing for the evening, her thoughts returned to his proposal. She hoped that he was not too disappointed, but presumably he would find some comfort in having escaped a connection which he considered to be beneath him. If she had said yes, he would probably have soon regretted it.
What a kerfuffle that would have been! Lady Catherine would not have liked her nephew’s choice. Indeed, it was reasonable to assume that she would have been furious. Elizabeth could imagine the vitriol which would have been directed her way if she had been the ruin of her ladyship’s plan for Mr. Darcy to marry her daughter. Instead of anticipating a tedious evening, she would this moment be preparing herself with trepidation, even though she was usually not the sort of person who succumbed to trepidation.
Mr. Darcy would no longer have been the exalted nephew either. His family’s disgust of the match would have humiliated him. It was fortunate for him that she had not been tempted. Her ideas of marriage, which were so very different from his, had spared him from the consequences of his own recklessness.
“Of course, he must have known that his family would not approve,” she said to her reflection in the glass. “Yet I was still his preference. Me, with no fortune and no grand connections. He loved me for myself, and he loved me enough to propose against all his instincts.”
It really was something to be valued above all else. In different circumstances, that could have given her the greatest joy. It was a pity such feelings had come from a man who felt compelled to illustrate the struggle which they had entailed.
She joined the others, and they walked across the park to Rosings, where Lady Catherine was indeed in such a good mood as Mr. Collins had described. If anything, he had understated the case. Her ladyship looked as though she were overwhelmed with joy instead of mourning the loss of her visitors.
Elizabeth thought that there must be something else going on, so she was not surprised when Lady Catherine said, “I have invited you this evening to share in some important news.”
Her next words were utterly astonishing though. “I am delighted to announce that my daughter has become engaged to Mr. Darcy. The match was always intended but now it has been formalised, and the wedding will take place next month.”
Elizabeth felt her mouth drop open. After a second, she realised that amazement must be showing in her expression, but fortunately, nobody was looking her way. The others had their eyes upon Lady Catherine, and her attention was given to Mr. Collins, who had embarked upon a speech of congratulations. With her thoughts awhirl, Elizabeth heard not a word of it.
She had heard of a supposed engagement between Mr. Darcy and his cousin. Mr. Wickham had first mentioned it some months ago, and Lady Catherine had alluded to it more recently; however, in the past couple of weeks, Mr. Darcy had shown no sign of desiring the match. His proposal to Elizabeth had certainly seemed to confirm her impression of his disinterest.
How was it that he had suddenly made this decision so soon after declaring himself to be ardently in love with her? He could not have loved her so much after all. Surely a man who loved ardently one day would not engage himself to somebody else the next.
Yet Elizabeth had seen the pain which her refusal had caused. His bitterness had been that of a man severely disappointed. Even the uncivil nature of his proposal had supported his claims of being deeply in love. Although it had been rude of him to talk of having tried not to care for her, his failure to achieve that did seem to prove the depth of his feelings.
It was almost insulting that he had so swiftly looked elsewhere. Not that she had any claim to feeling insulted. Perhaps she should not be surprised either. He had told her that he did not intend to humble himself by dwelling upon wishes which could not be too soon forgotten. Evidently this was his method of achieving that goal.
Was this the way of all men who were rejected? Did the pain of rejection instill in them an immediate desire to seek out somebody else? Mr. Collins had done the same. Two days after Elizabeth had turned him down, he had been engaged to her friend Charlotte. And now it seemed that Mr. Darcy had looked for the same consolation. It was very strange, and in her opinion, very fickle.
Of course, it could be said that she was not entitled to an opinion on the subject. Having rejected both men, she had no right to question their resulting actions or criticise their devotion for having been excessively short-lived. In fact, as far as Mr. Collins was concerned, she had mostly been relieved to know that he would not address himself to her again.
Curiously, it was only Mr. Darcy’s inconstancy which bothered her. Perhaps that was because she believed that he, unlike Mr. Collins, had truly been in love with her. There had been too much feeling in his words for that to be disputed. His manner and behaviour had been evidence of it.
So how had he gone from such feeling to contracting a marriage for which he had previously shown no interest? Had he been tempted by the opportunity to increase his wealth substantially? Or had he decided that he really did prefer a wife who suited all his ideas of superiority? She would be dull, and perhaps even a little demanding, but he would never have any cause to be ashamed of her. As these were the sort of things which he cared about, Mr. Darcy should be well content with his second choice.
Elizabeth now looked at Miss de Bourgh and saw not the slightest sign of enthusiasm on her part. They might well have been talking about some stranger’s engagement. There was only disinterest in her expression even though her mother was now talking of her future life.
“They will go to London directly after the wedding. It would have been nice for them to live in Kent, but Mr. Darcy has too many engagements to be able to spend much time here.”
Elizabeth thought it quite possible that he was not desirous of living with his aunt. He had never shown much affection for her, or enthusiasm for his visit to Rosings.
“Naturally he ought to keep up his appearances in the fashionable world, so Anne is going to spend much of her time in London,” Lady Catherine continued. “He was insistent upon having his wife at his side. His attachment to her is excessive.”
Knowing very well that it was not, Elizabeth was surprised to hear that he had been insistent, but something might be allowed for Lady Catherine’s interpretation. Mr. Darcy had probably only made an ordinary assumption that his wife would go where he went.
“Fortunately, my daughter’s health has lately been very much improved, or else I would have had to protest against her going away.”
As Mr. Collins agreed that Miss de Bourgh must never exert herself too much, Elizabeth wondered if she really ought to marry at all. Perhaps she was not so very ill though. From her small size and sickly appearance, one could guess that she had been a frail child, but in the time that they had been acquainted, Elizabeth had never seen any particular signs of illness. Miss de Bourgh did go out in her phaeton, and she could sit many hours at a card table without tiring. There did not seem to be any particular reason for the excessive attentions of her companion. It was to be hoped for Mr. Darcy’s sake that there was not anything especially wrong with her. He had such an appearance of health and vitality that it was hard to imagine him with an invalid wife.
“I shall not think it too much trouble to visit them very often,” Lady Catherine said. London always has its attractions, and now they will be greatly increased for me by having a daughter in town.”
It appeared that Mr. Darcy was going to see more of his mother-in-law than he might have counted upon.
“You seem to be amused by something, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth hastily came up with an excuse for the smile which had slipped past her guard. “Oh, I was suddenly reminded of an amusing play that I saw recently. Your mention of Lond
on’s attractions reminded me of the theatre.” The play had been a tragedy, which accounted for a surprised glance that Elizabeth received from Maria Lucas, who had been with her that evening. Fortunately, Maria rarely spoke in Lady Catherine’s presence.
“You have attended performances in London, have you?” Lady Catherine queried. “I thought that your family never went to town.”
“Not all of us together, but I have often stayed with relatives.”
“And they like the theatre, do they?”
“They do.”
“I do not care for the theatre myself. There is nothing real about plays.”
“I have never attended a play,” Mr. Collins proudly announced.
The conversation was diverted in this direction for the next few minutes, and Elizabeth took no more part in it. She did not agree with her cousin that such entertainment was harmful to young minds, but she knew from past experience that it was a waste of time to try to convince him of anything.
Allowing her thoughts to wander, she only became aware that the subject had changed again, when Lady Catherine said. “Anne must be presented at court.”
“She must indeed,” Mr. Collins agreed. “The British court should not be deprived of its brightest ornament.”
Elizabeth was amused by her recognition of these words. Some months ago, when boasting of his skill at arranging compliments, he had mentioned one which was quite similar. It seemed that he could also count rearranging compliments among his skills. She made a mental note to tell her father of this repurposing, which he would find just as amusing.
“If only there could be an opportunity,” Lady Catherine lamented. “It is quite reprehensible of Queen Charlotte to have gone so long without holding a drawing room. The last one was at least two years ago.”
As that period of time had been a difficult one for the queen, with her husband being so ill and her family life severely affected, Elizabeth thought it understandable that she had not held a drawing-room. Lady Catherine was evidently not so understanding. She began to talk about the duties of queens, which was quite diverting. Even royalty was not exempt from her exacting standards.