A Case of Some Delicacy

by K C Kahler

  Elizabeth grinned. “I suppose his arms were generously covered when he made it.”

  “Pity…” Lydia sighed. “You should have seen when he defended me to that wretched Miss Bingley by saying he would allow his sister to play cricket in mixed company! He is so kind, do you not think?” Lydia was quite giddy.

  Jane soothed her. “He is very kind, but perhaps you should go to sleep now.”

  “Very well, my head does hurt. I suppose you will all go to church tomorrow without me.” She pouted as she snuggled into her bed. Jane kissed her cheek before following Elizabeth and Mary into the hallway.

  Only Kitty remained. “Lord, you fell like a sack of flour when that ball hit you,” she said before blowing out the candle.

  As she lay in the dark, Lydia’s thoughts were of Mr Darcy. She did not know when she would see him again. Surely she could see Denny and the rest of the officers soon—she need only walk into Meryton to be assured a meeting. But how could she contrive a meeting with Mr Darcy? She would have to ask Mama what could be done.

  Jane was hard on Elizabeth’s heels when they left Lydia and Kitty’s bedroom, foiling Elizabeth’s hopes of slipping into bed without facing an inquisition. Surely Jane had detected the tension with their father. The question was: what should Elizabeth tell her about the confrontation or, more importantly, about Mr Darcy’s proposition? Jane already knew about Elizabeth’s intervention into Mr Collins’s so-called courtship but insisted it was unnecessary to take so much trouble for her sake. So it was unlikely Jane would approve of meeting secretly with a gentleman in pursuit of that goal. It would be a difficult secret to keep from her sister even for one night, but a secret it must remain.

  They sat on the bed together. “Lizzy, what is amiss between you and Papa? You have not spoken to each other since the cricket match.”

  “Please do not worry about it. We had a disagreement today; that is all.”

  “But you are always of like mind. What could have brought on this quarrel?”

  “It should have happened long ago, but I allowed myself to be content with our camaraderie. I have been—we all have been—avoiding the unpleasant truth about Papa.”

  “Unpleasant truth? Whatever can you mean?”

  Elizabeth sighed in resignation. “Do you not see how he neglects his responsibilities towards us? He acts as if he were a mere observer of this household rather than its head. He ridicules Mama’s fits and his daughters’ silliness but lifts not a finger to curtail either. He would rather avoid all inconvenience and hide away in his library.”

  “Oh Lizzy, that is very harsh. Pray tell me you did not say these things to him.”

  “I did—and much worse. I know I ought to have softened my words, but I was near fury. I hurt his feelings. I am afraid he will not forgive me.”

  “Of course he will forgive you. But you have not explained what precipitated this quarrel.” Jane could be relentless sometimes.

  Elizabeth avoided her sister’s eyes. “It was a culmination of many things.”

  “You need not say; I already know what has brought this on. But I told you not to worry for me. I do not wish to be the cause of discord between you and Papa.”

  “You are most definitely not. It is Papa’s indolence that is the cause. I cannot abide seeing you in such an impossible position. Mama is prepared to serve you up on a silver platter to a fool while Papa stands idly by. He was so glib about your future happiness today. If he will not protect you, then I must.”

  “I hardly need protection from our cousin. He is not aggressive or demanding.”

  “But he is terribly presumptuous. He came here thinking he merely need choose one of us to be his bride! He takes advantage of our misfortune to gain a wife who is far too good for the likes of him.” Elizabeth leaned forward to grasp Jane’s hands. “Please, you must promise you will not accept Mr Collins. Papa will at least support your refusal, but you must refuse. Do not listen to Mama.”

  Jane looked down for a moment before taking a breath. “I cannot make such a promise, not when the welfare of my family is at stake. Think of the peace of mind I shall have knowing my mother and sisters will be well cared for.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes filled with tears. “It is unconscionable that you are burdened with this when it is not your responsibility. I cannot bear to think of you forced into a lifetime with that self-important toady.”

  Jane gave her a reproachful look for such name calling but did not bother to scold. “I admit that Mr Collins is not the sort of man I would have chosen were I free to do so. But very few young ladies—rich or poor—may marry where they wish. Lizzy, I am not saying I am resolved to marry him, but I cannot dismiss the possibility out of hand, considering our situation.”

  Elizabeth knew without a doubt that she must ensure Jane never faced that decision. She was too selfless and too dutiful for her own good. “Please at least promise you will think only of your own happiness without reference to anyone else. Or, if you must think of someone else’s happiness, think of mine. For you know my life would be full of misery if I had to endure such a brother-in-law!”

  Jane laughed before turning serious once again. “Oh Lizzy, I think your happiness is more important to me than is my own. Please do reconcile with Papa; I cannot bear to see you at odds with him. And do not feel you must constantly intervene with Mr Collins. If you find his company so disagreeable, by all means, remove yourself from it.”

  “It hardly seems fair that Mama should thrust me, her least favourite daughter, into the path of a far superior gentleman, while saddling you, the far superior sibling, with Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s most dedicated sycophant. It is particularly ironic since the more estimable gentleman so clearly prefers your company to mine!” Elizabeth determined to make her sister laugh again. “Oh, Jane, how becomingly you blush! I did not even utter Mr Bingley’s name!”

  “Do not tease me! I shall only say Mr Bingley is an estimable gentleman and the most agreeable young man of my acquaintance. But, Lizzy, what of Mr Darcy? To offer to send to London for his physician like that! Surely he must rise in your opinion.”

  Elizabeth hoped she did not blush at the unexpected mention of Mr Darcy. “I suppose. Perhaps, as captain of the team, he felt responsible for Lydia’s injury. Or perhaps cricket simply agrees with him. Before that, he could not be tempted to speak to anyone.”

  “You cling so tenaciously to that regrettable comment. I am sure he did not mean it. He is perfectly civil to me, and did he not ask you to dance at Lucas Lodge last week?”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes remembering the encounter. “Only because Sir William made it impossible for him not to.”

  “Well, he certainly won my good opinion today and, apparently, Lydia’s as well.”

  “Yes, and without the benefit of a red coat. It is quite extraordinary what a pair of well-formed arms can accomplish.”

  Jane could not keep her countenance, and the two young ladies burst into laughter.

  “I wonder how long Lydia’s infatuation will last this time,” Elizabeth said. “Surely Mr Darcy’s grave demeanour cannot hold a candle to Mr Denny’s amiability, wrapped to such advantage in regimentals.”

  “We shall see. I think you underestimate Mr Darcy’s appeal.” Elizabeth gave Jane a dubious look as her sister made her way to the door. “Good night, Lizzy. May you dream of pleasant gentlemen with pleasing arms!”

  Elizabeth collapsed onto her bed. She was exhausted. Had the day’s antics been performed by any family but her own, she would have laughed heartily at them. Instead, she could only groan in mortification.

  She quickly fell into slumber, but her restful sleep did not last long. She tossed and turned for the remainder of the night, her thoughts rapidly trying to devise some solution to Jane’s predicament. She rose earlier than usual and was out the door before sunrise.

  As she paced along the shallow bank of Oakham Stream, Elizabeth was torn between eagerness to learn what Mr Darcy had in mind and humiliatio
n at having to face him again. If she were not so desperate, she would simply decline his offer of assistance and be done with him. But after her talk with Jane, Elizabeth was resolved to seize any advantage she could to prevent Mr Collins's proposal, no matter how distasteful.

  When would Mr Darcy arrive, and what would he say? Elizabeth could not keep still for her apprehension.

  * * *

  Fitzwilliam Darcy was not an indecisive man, but as he left Netherfield, he was torn between two possible courses of action. The proper, safe course would lead him to apologise for his inappropriate behaviour—both the spying and the highly improper suggestion to meet secretly—and then quickly take his leave of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. It was what he ought to do. How had he even come to be in such a situation—he, who always so cautiously held himself under regulation?

  Yet Darcy felt inexplicably drawn to follow the improper course of action. First, there was the challenge of it—helping these two young ladies who deserved better than their circumstances would serve as a diversion. Mr Bennet was partly right about the entertainment factor.

  But, if Darcy was honest with himself, he must admit to an overwhelming desire to be of assistance to Elizabeth Bennet. His mind flooded with memories from the previous day: the sound of her soft, heartbroken voice as she pleaded with her father; the glimpse of her shapely ankles innocently revealed while she ran; the music of her laughter as she joked with Bingley and the other players on her team; the gentle touch of her hand on her sister’s brow as she knelt in the grass; and those eyes, always those fine eyes. At the mere thought of them, Darcy urged his mount to quicken the pace.

  Darcy found the correct path and approached the sound of running water. He came to a small clearing, dismounted, and tied off his horse. Oakham Stream was a tiny brook here. Farther downstream, where it formed part of Netherfield’s western boundary, it was wider with a sandy bottom. Darcy much preferred this portion of the stream, for it reminded him of a similar brook in Pemberley’s woods. In the angled morning sun, he could see mist rising from the water. There, pacing, was Miss Elizabeth. She looked troubled, as if the weight of the world was upon her. In that moment, Darcy was far from indecisive; he chose the improper course of action.

  He spoke her name, but she did not hear over the sound of the water. He approached her, hat in hand, and spoke again. “Good morning, Miss Elizabeth.”

  She gasped but recovered quickly. “Good morning, Mr Darcy. You should wear a bell around your ankle to alert unsuspecting people of your location.”

  Clearly, she was referring to his notorious lurking and spying, but her mention of his ankle recalled the sight of her ankles to his mind, and he actually blushed. “Perhaps I could stomp my feet as I walk. Would that serve as warning of my imminent approach?”

  She looked surprised and laughed lightly at his reply. “I suppose. But a tinkling bell seems a much more pleasant sound to have associated with one’s presence. Or perhaps you could follow the example of Alice, our maid, who hums incessantly.”

  “I assure you, any tunes I might hum would be most unpleasant to the ears. If I were to announce my presence in such a way, I would very soon find myself quite alone.”

  She laughed again, and Darcy nearly threw his hat into the air with the thought that he was responsible for that laugh. Instead, he asked, “How is Miss Lydia?”

  She looked away uncomfortably, no doubt remembering the singular end to the cricket match. How tiring it must be to be constantly ashamed of one’s family and wholly powerless to do anything about it. “Lydia is recovering. Her head hurts, but there do not appear to be any other ill effects. I am sure she will enjoy the doting of my mother over the next week.”

  “I am relieved to hear it.” He genuinely was. Miss Lydia was just a child at that awkward cusp of adulthood. She was not the first such girl to act foolishly nor the last. Darcy of all people knew that well enough.

  “Mr Darcy, thank you for convincing Mr Collins to join the cricket match. I am sure it was not pleasant to have his company for all that time. I…have you reconsidered your offer of assistance?”

  “No, I still wish to help you and your sister, if I can.”

  “I cannot conceive why, but I shall gladly accept any help you can offer. I fear that the situation will soon reach a crisis. It is much worse than I had anticipated.” All her earlier levity was gone, leaving only sadness and anxiety. She began pacing again, and he wished to put her at ease.

  “Perhaps we should walk as we discuss the matter.”

  “Yes, I find I cannot keep still today.” She stopped pacing and met his eyes. “There are some small cascades upstream.”

  He motioned for her to lead the way. Walking beside her, he began, “Now, tell me what has happened to make the situation worse, and then we shall form a plan of action to remedy it.”

  “Mr Collins is becoming more and more determined in his attentions. He might have proposed in the hallway last night—and in the presence of Kitty and Mary—were he not interrupted by my father.”

  She glanced at Darcy and then clarified, her voice bitter, “No, my father was not intervening on Jane’s behalf. He was merely scolding the group for being too loud.”

  Her expression softened. “Then I spoke with Jane. I begged her to promise to refuse Mr Collins. She would not. She does not wish to marry him, but given our circumstances, she cannot dismiss the possibility. She says she will have to make that decision if he proposes.”

  Miss Elizabeth stopped walking and faced Darcy. “Jane is the most generous and caring person I have ever known. I do not make the claim merely because she is my sister. I cannot overstate her kindness, her modesty, her…goodness.”

  “So you fear, despite her wishes, she will succumb to concern for the future of her family should Mr Collins propose.”

  “Yes. A marriage to Mr Collins is bad enough to contemplate, but to think of Jane living under the thumb of Lady Catherine—forgive me, Mr Darcy, but your aunt sounds formidable—to think of Jane in that situation, it breaks my heart.”

  “I cannot say you are wrong about my aunt. She is meddlesome beyond your imagination. I am amazed she has found just the sort of parson who would think her meddling a blessing, but Mr Collins is such a one.”

  “So you see, I simply must prevent his proposal. But how am I ever to halt his suit when my mother throws them together at every opportunity with only myself and Charlotte to interfere?”

  “Ah, so Miss Lucas has been intervening on your behalf.”

  She began walking again. “Yes, she has been invaluable, particularly when I have reached my level of tolerance with Mr Collins. She is to visit us today after church; therefore, I think we are safe for at least one more day.”

  “How much longer is your cousin at Longbourn?”

  “He returns to Kent on Saturday.”

  “Six more days.” Darcy could hardly believe what he was about to offer. “Would it help if Mr Bingley and I called tomorrow? I can no doubt convince Bingley to oblige. We shall ostensibly visit to inquire after Miss Lydia.”

  “That would be wonderful.” Darcy relished the grateful smile she gave him before he caught a return of bitterness to her voice. “My mother will eagerly welcome Mr Bingley.”

  He could not keep a hint of disgust out of his own voice. “She has been attempting to forward a match between you and Mr Bingley.”

  She sighed. “I assure you I have no designs on Mr Bingley, amiable though he is.”

  Darcy was relieved to hear of Miss Elizabeth’s disinterest in his friend. Naturally, he wished to preserve Bingley from a connexion with a family like the Bennets.

  They had come to a series of small cascades where the stream spilled down some boulders. They stopped and gazed at the water. “My mother has her mind set that Jane will marry my cousin because Mr Collins expressed an interest on the day after his arrival here. She further thinks that I must marry your friend because I am the next in line, and of course, why would Mr Bingley not be lo
oking for a wife? To her mind, security in marriage is indistinguishable from happiness in marriage. She has no concept that one might aspire to something loftier.”

  Darcy contemplated her words. Mrs Bennet, although more vulgar, was not so different from many of the scheming mothers of the ton, shamelessly throwing their daughters at wealth and rank.

  “With my mother’s continued encouragement, I fear Mr Collins will soon declare himself, whether he gains the appropriate privacy to do so or not.”

  “Is there perhaps another young lady who would wish for his attentions?” Darcy did not suppose there could be, but he had to ask.

  She laughed nervously. “I realise pushing him towards someone else would make my task easier, but I would not wish him on any young lady of my acquaintance, certainly not those I care about. No, interference and distraction are the only weapons at our disposal.”

  “Perhaps, but given his extraordinary deference to Lady Catherine’s opinions and, by extension, mine, there may be another way to dissuade him.” He felt her attention fully on him. “I do not have anything in mind at present, but I shall think on it.”

  “Thank you. Any ideas you have would be most welcome.” She looked at the position of the sun through the trees. “I should return. The household will be rising soon.”

  * * *

  As they left the cascades, Elizabeth was relieved, almost pleased, with her conversation with Mr Darcy thus far. The initial jests they exchanged had made her less anxious at the awkward situation. His subsequent businesslike manner had further relieved her unease. He acted as if it were perfectly normal for him to intervene in the courtship of a country parson he had met less than a fortnight ago, and indeed, as she conversed with him, it seemed perfectly normal. She had been able to speak openly of her parents and of Jane, and he had taken everything in stride, though she had detected his poorly concealed distaste on the topic of her mother’s incessant matchmaking.