A Case of Some Delicacy

by K C Kahler

  “I am sure Miss Bennet nurtured you all admirably, but you—you give encouragement to your sisters to better themselves without the sting of real criticism. You make them wish to improve and believe that they can.”

  Elizabeth laughed nervously. “You mean I nag and tease and scold. By all means, turn it into a virtue. You will hear no objections from me.”

  He smiled at her but continued his unreadable staring.

  “I must go. No doubt Charlotte will visit after breakfast today. I again owe her much gratitude for her saintly intervention with Mr Collins over these last two days.”

  They had not walked very far, but Mr Darcy offered his arm for the return trip. They walked in silence, and when they arrived at the clearing, she handed his gloves back to him. “Thank you, even my fingers stayed quite warm.”

  He took them, looking down. “I…I shall continue to carry them with me on my morning rides in case we should meet again.”

  “No doubt we shall. You are owed several amusing stories for your trouble.” Elizabeth could hardly believe her daring.

  His dimples made a sudden appearance. “Indeed. How could I forget? Until tomorrow, then?”

  “Yes,” she croaked, nearly stumbling away. “Farewell, Mr Darcy.” She did not look back as she hurried towards the road and back to Longbourn.

  She found all her family but Mrs Bennet in the breakfast room. They greeted her, and Jane and Mr Bennet looked at her curiously as she ate in silence.

  She would see him again tomorrow. The prospect made her happier than it ought. Foolish, foolish, foolish!

  As she had predicted, Charlotte arrived after breakfast and sought a private conference with Elizabeth.

  “My dear Lizzy, I have some news I wish to share with you personally: Mr Collins and I are engaged.”

  Elizabeth’s astonishment was so great as to overcome the bounds of decorum, and she could not help crying out, “Engaged to Mr Collins! Impossible!”

  Charlotte calmly replied, “It is true, I assure you. Marriage has always been my object, though I thought my chance had long since passed. Now, I am engaged at the age of twenty-seven without having ever been handsome, and I feel all the good luck of it.”

  “Was this your motive then, all the time you helped distract my cousin from Jane?”

  Charlotte bristled at the accusation. “I asked you multiple times whether you were certain Jane did not desire the match. I would never have positioned myself as a rival to either you or Jane. I was happy to help regardless of any secondary outcome.”

  There was a long silence between them.

  Charlotte took on a conciliatory tone. “Do you care to hear how it happened? He dined with us Thursday night, you know. The next morning, I spied him from an upstairs window and went to meet him in the lane. But little had I dared to hope that so much love and eloquence awaited me there. In as short a time as Mr Collins’s long speeches would allow, everything was settled between us to the satisfaction of both.”

  Elizabeth’s face betrayed her shock and disappointment at Charlotte making light of such a matter, but she said nothing.

  “Why should you be surprised? Do you think it incredible that Mr Collins should be able to procure any woman’s good opinion because he was not so happy as to succeed with you?”

  “But he does not have your good opinion, Charlotte,” she replied quietly.

  “I am not romantic, you know. I never was. I ask only a comfortable home, and considering Mr Collins’s character, connexions, and situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state.”

  “It is beyond me that you should expect to find happiness with a man you find ridiculous and irksome!”

  “I knew you would judge me harshly. This is why I kept my plans from you. I could not expect support but rather lectures and disapproval. Not everyone agrees with your way of thinking. I know my own mind, and I ask you to respect my decisions.” Charlotte sighed. “I shall go now and allow you to think about it. I shall see you at service tomorrow, and I hope you will have reconciled yourself to be happy for me. This is what I want, Lizzy.”

  * * *

  To say that Darcy looked forward to hearing any humourous tale Miss Elizabeth Bennet wished to tell him would be a drastic understatement. To say that he was happy when she voiced this plausible excuse for them to continue meeting would do injustice to the joy he had felt at that moment. He had considered claiming there was even more to reveal about Wickham, but to stretch such a subject over three days seemed a bit much. So he would not contradict her when she claimed she “owed” him some amusing stories. If anything, he owed her for the insightful advice about Georgiana, but he would gladly listen to her recite laundry lists if she so desired.

  After his delightful morning stroll, Darcy spent another tortuously long day at Netherfield avoiding Miss Bingley. Reginald Hurst proved to be an undemanding companion. He napped and drank and napped some more. He wrote letters, no doubt to his mother, while drinking, before dozing off again. In the course of several hours spent together in Netherfield’s library, they had shared just one conversation of any substance: about how much Hurst liked his newest rifle. As a result, they had made plans to go shooting. It would be a good way to ensure Darcy did not encounter Miss Bingley for several hours.

  But at present, Darcy had a much more appealing outing in mind. It was early morning again and a certain impertinent, kind-hearted, beautiful young lady with dainty hands awaited near a sparkling stream. Before going to the stables, he slipped his spare gloves into his coat, wishing the day was cold enough to necessitate their use. He had to laugh at himself. Two days ago he had cursed the cold, and now he wished for it to return. He loved seeing Elizabeth wear his gloves.

  When he arrived at Oakham Stream, he thought his handkerchief might be more needed. There would be no joyful embrace today nor even a witty greeting. She looked despondent as she paced and twisted her fingers before her.

  “What has happened?” he asked with anxious bewilderment.

  She looked up at him. “Charlotte is to marry Mr Collins.” Her declaration was flat, but he could tell there was great emotion behind it.

  He was stunned for several moments. “I thought Miss Lucas such a sensible young lady.”

  “Yes, eminently sensible—cunning, really. Charlotte’s kindness extended further than I had any conception of; its object was nothing less than to engage Mr Collins's addresses towards herself. The possibility of Mr Collins fancying himself in love with Charlotte had occurred to me within the last day or two, but that she could encourage him seemed almost as far from possibility as that I could encourage him myself!”

  She continued pacing, greatly agitated, before stopping and facing him directly. “Am I terribly judgmental and severe? Do I act as if I know better than anyone else?”

  “No and no.” The reward for his certainty was the barest upturn of one side of her mouth.

  She shook her head and started pacing again. “I am. I am judgmental and sanctimonious and stubborn in my opinions. I expect everyone to live up to some impossible standard—my standard, not theirs.”

  He wished to take her by the shoulders to prevent her frantic pacing, but instead he simply said, “Did you quarrel with Miss Lucas?”

  “Not quarrelled exactly.”

  “Tell me about it,” he coaxed.

  She shot him a glance as she paced, considering. Finally, she began, “Shortly after breakfast yesterday, she came and sought a private audience with me…”

  She recounted a tense exchange that was left unresolved. “I am a dreadful friend! And still, I cannot bring myself to be happy for her. I rather expect her to be miserable in the lot she has chosen.”

  “You want better for Miss Lucas than she wanted for herself.”

  “It seems I want better for everyone than they want for themselves: Jane, John, Charlotte, my father. I judge and scold and try to arrange their lives to
my liking. What claims to wisdom or experience have I that I should presume to know better for them than they do for themselves?”

  “I am sure they understand you only want the very best for them.”

  “John did not; he and I argued bitterly before he left. And although Charlotte fully expected my reaction yesterday, it still injured her. She knew I would disapprove, which is why she did not share her scheme with me. You see? Judgmental and sanctimonious!”

  Darcy longed to ask about her quarrel with John Lucas, but he checked himself. “I see nothing of the sort. She knew your opinion on the matter was as deeply held as hers, and did not wish it to cause strife between you before it was necessary.”

  She ignored him, pacing again. “And Charlotte has never judged any of my reckless actions. She has always been supportive even if she disagreed. When I told her about”—she motioned between Darcy and herself—“our arrangement after the picnic, she only asked how she could help. That day in Netherfield’s garden, she hinted at her plan for my cousin; I realise it now. She told me marrying for security was a common enough occurrence. Then she gently chastised me for clinging too strongly to my opinions about what was best for others.”

  Darcy thought she would wear a rut in the ground the way she was pacing.

  “What am I to do? How can I act the supportive friend and keep her from sensing my censure and condemnation? She has been the truest friend to me; I owe her this.”

  He finally had to act. He placed himself in her path and lightly grasped her arms to halt her. “Hush, Miss Elizabeth. All will be well.”

  She stood there looking up at him, and he thought she might begin to cry. He could not bear it if she did. “Let us put ourselves into Miss Lucas’ shoes, shall we? As sensible and practical as we know her to be, is it not safe to say that she has no illusions about her choice? She therefore must have had sufficient reasons. Perhaps you can be reconciled to her choice if you think about it from a new perspective.”

  She nodded weakly.

  “Miss Lucas is twenty-seven?” Another nod. “It is likely she has been considered a spinster for a few years now.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “She never let that sort of malicious gossip bother her before.”

  “Perhaps she was only putting on a brave face.” Elizabeth shrugged in reluctant acknowledgement.

  He continued, “She also said marriage was always her goal and that she wanted only a comfortable home.”

  “She could have a comfortable home at Lucas Lodge without marrying a fool. John would never abandon her.”

  “Be that as it may, she would be relying on the charity of others, and it would not really be her home.” Elizabeth looked sceptical. “Try to think of it from her point of view.”

  She sighed again. “Charlotte always said she wanted her own establishment.”

  “Based on what we know of Mr Collins and my aunt, I can only predict that Miss Lucas’s good sense and kindness will be greatly appreciated by his parishioners in Kent. Can you imagine them coming to her for assistance rather than to Mr Collins? And she will, in her own quiet way, see that they get it without anyone knowing she interfered.”

  Her troubled expression began to ease a bit. “She will be a great help to those people. She is patient, shrewd, and modest—just the sort of person who can work discreetly for their best interests.”

  “Now, has Miss Lucas ever indicated that she wished to have a family of her own?”

  Elizabeth looked down at the ground. “Yes,” she whispered. “Charlotte is wonderful with children. When we were younger, she always talked of having a family. But she began to avoid the subject later.” She broke from Darcy’s grasp and turned her back. Her voice was tremulous when she continued, “I have been an insensitive beast! How could I, another woman and her so-called friend, not see it when you so easily understood her dearest aspirations?”

  If not crying already, she was on the verge of tears. Desperate to comfort her, he stepped around her, offering his handkerchief. “Shh, please. If she did not share her sorrows with you, you could not expect to read her thoughts.”

  She took the handkerchief and wiped at her eyes. “Had I not been so wretchedly blinded by my own conviction, I might have shown just the slightest bit of sympathy for her troubles. I offered nothing but criticism when my dear friend told me of her upcoming marriage! How shall I ever make it up to her?”

  “It is very simple. You will offer your sincere congratulations and good wishes for her future life. You will show her she has not sunk in your opinion. As her friend, you know best how to do it.”

  “With Charlotte, I probably need only wink at her in church today, and she will forgive and understand all.”

  “Would that all disagreements could be resolved with a little wink.”

  She let out a shaky laugh, “The world would be much more pleasant, I suppose.” She was quiet for some moments as she examined Georgiana’s stitch work on his handkerchief—his initials and a vine pattern. “I would offer to launder this for you, but I am afraid I could not explain its presence to the servants.”

  “It is no matter. You barely used it.”

  She held it out for him. “Thank you for calming an overwrought female. You have been most considerate. I am sure your expectations for this meeting were rather different.”

  “No thanks are required, and there’s always tomorrow.” As he took the handkerchief, their gloved hands touched and she finally raised her gaze up to his. So powerful was the urge to pull her towards him, he thought he must be shaking with it.

  She blinked and took several steps away. “Tomorrow, I promise to tell you my most diverting story. Until then, Mr Darcy.” She dropped into a curtsey, and he was desperate to keep her there just a little longer.

  “Does the rest of your family know about Miss Lucas’s betrothal?” he blurted.

  “Yes. Sir William appeared in the afternoon, sent by his daughter to announce her engagement to the family. Initial reactions ranged from incredulous to positively uncivil. My mother protested that he must be entirely mistaken. Lydia disputed that any man could make two marriage proposals in as many days. Kitty exclaimed how relieved she was that somebody had finally accepted him, thus she need never receive his addresses.”

  Darcy had to laugh at this unfolding, and Elizabeth started to laugh too.

  “Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have borne without anger such treatment; but Sir William’s good breeding carried him through it all. I finally felt it incumbent upon me to relieve him from so unpleasant a situation. I confirmed his account and, as earnestly as possible, offered my congratulations. Jane readily joined in, and shortly thereafter, he left us. My mother’s feelings soon found a rapid vent; do you care to hear them?”

  “Absolutely. I should not wish to be deprived of knowing them.”

  She smirked and held out her hands as if to count on her tiny fingers. “In the first place, she persisted in disbelieving the whole of the matter; secondly, she was very sure that Mr Collins had been taken in; thirdly, she trusted that they would never be happy together; and fourthly, that the match might be broken off. Two inferences, however, were plainly deduced from the whole: one, that I was the real cause of all the mischief, and the other, that my mother had been barbarously used by us all. On these two points, she principally dwelt during the rest of the day. Nothing could console or appease her, not even Jane.”

  “Did you not confide in Miss Bennet about your difference of opinion with Miss Lucas?” Darcy now thought it odd that Miss Elizabeth should be so very distressed this morning when she could have discussed her problems with her sister.

  She coloured. “Jane…Jane only sees the good in people, even Mr Collins. I cannot have an honest discussion with her about the faults of others, least of all mine.”

  Darcy felt ridiculously pleased at such an admission. She came to him first to discuss this problem. They stood for some minutes in silence, for he knew not what to say.

/>   “And now,” she said, “I really must go if I am to keep my winking appointment today.”

  He bowed and bid her farewell. On the ride back to Netherfield, not even the impending luncheon with Miss Bingley could keep him from ruminating fondly on the agreeable prospect of being winked at by one Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

  Sunday

  Franklin was certainly better than Frank or Francis, though none were particularly appealing. Could it be Felix? Heavens, no! Fenton, Fletcher, Fraser, Forester? Surely not. It must be something strong and steady. Frederick Darcy sounded very well. It simply must be Frederick.

  Such were Elizabeth’s thoughts as she waited for the Lucas family to arrive at church. Which story should she share with Mr F. Darcy tomorrow? Preferably one that would make him laugh generously. The story of Gussy Goulding’s missing tooth would no doubt suffice. He was far too good-natured to have such a rascal for a brother. Jowly Jacob knew his brother could never balance on that fencepost let alone cross from one to the next. Gussy was so terribly awkward at that age he might topple over on level ground.

  Between the pitifully short interval Gus kept his balance, his graceless descent teeth first into the ground, Jacob’s swooning at the sight of the blood, and young Elizabeth’s suggestion that they shove the tooth back into place, only straighter this time—surely that story would earn a few guffaws, several chuckles and a generous helping of dimples. It was a rather unique scale on which to measure success, but a challenge Elizabeth was eager to undertake.

  “Why on earth are you grinning so, Lizzy?” asked Lydia from beside her in the pew.

  Elizabeth was nonplussed that she had been caught ruminating on a certain gentleman yet again. She shushed Lydia and shook her head.

  In the next moment, she spied the Lucas clan entering. Charlotte’s eyes immediately met hers, and Elizabeth winked for all she was worth.

  * * *

  Monday

  Elizabeth looked on triumphantly as her audience of one doubled over with laughter.