Mr Darcy and Mr Collins's Widow

by Timothy Underwood

  Darcy nodded, though Elizabeth thought she could perceive something vaguely disappointed in his manner. “I agree, I am — most sensible — of your worth as a friend. And I hope for us to remain close friends always.”

  Elizabeth smiled and felt a small bubble of warmth at Darcy’s declaration of her worth; he was a clever man of great consequence. Every time he showed his approbation of her she felt as though his good opinion was worth more than that of any one else she knew.

  While Elizabeth still smiled Darcy’s lips quirked up, and with a small bow he asked, “Would my dear friend be willing to give me the first set, and then the dinner set at Bingley’s ball next week?”

  “Certainly.”

  Chapter 9

  Darcy thought Bingley’s ball had been a smashing success.

  He’d danced the first set, and the dinner set as planned with Elizabeth. The shared knowledge that they were friends and would not become more than friends freed them from an invisible constraint which had been present before.

  Elizabeth had been in fine form. Her eyes had never been so bright, her jokes had never been so clever, her figure never so light and pleasing. During dinner Elizabeth had produced a stream of quiet wry observations on those around them at the dinner table, and Darcy nearly hurt himself suppressing his laughter.

  Darcy knew he’d shown himself in good form the previous night as well, as he and Elizabeth jumped from topic to topic, and he kept her laughing the entire night.

  The host had been equally pleased by the ball, though perhaps he’d paid more attention to just one guest then was perfectly proper. Bingley stayed close to Jane most of the night, and danced with her three times. Now that Darcy knew it was there, Jane’s attachment to Bingley was clear. It was not overt, but she glowed in a certain way when she looked at Bingley, and when she spoke to Bingley there was a certain warmth and meaning that was absent otherwise.

  As a private man, who did not wish to hang his feelings out for all the world to see, Darcy could appreciate Jane’s reticence. He had abandoned the barely formed thought that Bingley might be the man who he could safely entrust Georgiana to.

  Darcy would have preferred for Bingley’s new connections to be better, but he could not be unhappy about Bingley’s fate: Bingley would marry where there was strong affection and similarity of temper and manner. There was every hope for happiness in the expected union.

  The morning after the Netherfield ball Darcy and Bingley chose to play billiards after breakfast. They both were in excellent moods, and were absorbed in their own thoughts. Neither spoke much, but when they did speak it invariably was with a smile. They traded games, and Darcy lost his with perfect good humor.

  He’d only lost because he remembered as he made a key shot a joke Elizabeth made the previous night which compared billiards to knitting. Bingley himself laughed every time he missed a shot. In fact, Darcy thought with a smile, as they began a third round, both of their play had been abominably bad today.

  Miss Bingley entered the room, and grabbed her brother by the arm; she looked at Darcy and said in a hard voice “Come we must all talk.”

  Bingley raised his eyebrows in surprise as his sister pulled him along, “Certainly Caroline.”

  Miss Bingley pushed them into the sitting room where Mr. Hurst already sat on the fine stuffed couch with a half full glass of port and a bored expression, while Mrs. Hurst scowled at her brother from the other side of the couch.

  Miss Bingley pushed her brother into a red wingback armchair which she’d placed so the other seats in the room faced it in a half circle. She stepped back and angrily looked down on her now seated brother, “Charles, you must drop this foolish infatuation while there is still time!”

  Bingley stared back at his sister, “This foolish infatuation? — Oh. Do you speak about Jane?”

  “Miss Bennet!” Miss Bingley twirled to the watching people and said, “See, he is infatuated.” Then she looked at Bingley again, “Miss Bennet may be a sweet girl but she is completely inappropriate for you. Her mother is openly mercenary, and horridly bred, the sister whose house she lives in wishes to be a man, her youngest sister is a wild inappropriately forward girl, her connections are to trade, and her dowry is small. She is a very pretty sort of girl, and her face has turned your head, but I would be a very poor sister indeed were I to let her appearance lead you into such a serious mistake.”

  At the end of Miss Bingley’s speech her brother sat silent for half a minute as he nervously rubbed his hand against the arm of his chair.

  When she tired of waiting for Mr. Bingley to speak Miss Bingley asked, “Do you now realize you should give her up, and ought to leave Hertfordshire entirely to set yourself beyond temptation?”

  “I’d not realized you felt this way about Jane. In truth I thought you friends.” There was an accusation in Bingley’s tone, as though his sister had given him permission, and now that he was attached wished to withdraw it.

  Miss Bingley replied, “My friend? Yes, she is a dear friend, and a sweet girl, but there is a great distance, a very great distance, between friendship and marriage. She is genteel, and a gentlewoman. To have her for dinner hurts us not at all. To have her for a sister would harm us all greatly.”

  “You worry too much about status.” Bingley’s response was unusually firm, “A large dowry and connections in the ton will not make me happy. They will not make you happy either. I remember how our father and mother were, they had deep affection for each other, and I wish that. I am surprised by you Caroline. That you should wish to detach your brother from a woman he loves, and all the happiness that will provide so you can say to your friends — friends you met at a school paid for by your father’s money, money gained through trade — so you can say to these friends that your new sister is such and such and is related to so-and-so, and was worth some odd thousands of pounds.”

  Miss Bingley’s face rapidly cycled from an irritated frown at Bingley’s accusation into a sorrowful look, “Charles, Charles you misunderstand me. Were Jane really attached I would not speak so. Good connections do matter, but if there is mutual affection it is nothing. But I cannot believe Miss Bennet more than likes you.”

  “What do you mean? Speak plainly!”

  Despite her sympathetic tone, Darcy thought there was something pleased in Miss Bingley’s manner as she said, “I am sorry, but I have observed her — she smiles for you, but she smiles for everyone. She is a very sweet girl after all. There is no specific mark of regard, or great difference in how she acts in conversation with you, and how she acts in conversation with me, or with anyone. She accepts your attentions, but she would be a fool to do otherwise. Her mother openly says she ordered Miss Bennet to attach you. As a dutiful daughter should you offer, she would be forced to accept whether she will or no.”

  When Miss Bingley saw the effect of her speech, and the indecision that came over Bingley’s face she commanded, “Leave Hertfordshire. You will do Miss Bennet a favor and not only yourself.”

  The doubt was clear in Bingley’s voice as he replied, “No. That is wrong. Jane does love me. She must. She simply must love me. I have — her behavior is such. No, I cannot believe you. And Jane, she would not marry if she did not have affection for her partner. She has said as much.”

  Darcy was pleased to see Bingley had straightened during the course of that speech, and now seemed more assured. Were Miss Bingley to convince her brother Miss Bennet did not feel for her, after his conversation with Elizabeth and his own observations he would be honor bound to speak. However, Darcy did not wish to interfere in another’s private doings in such a way.

  Sadly, as soon as Darcy became sure he would not need to speak Miss Bingley forced him to. With a manner that suggested she knew she was likely to regret it, but had no other choice, Miss Bingley looked at Darcy, “It is not just me, I know Mr. Darcy has heard Mrs. Bennet speak of her orders to Jane. He was the one who told me of it in the first place. And I am sure he has seen how little her
behavior shows regard for you.”

  Darcy kept his eyes on Miss Bingley for a moment, and as he allowed his annoyance to show, she slightly flinched. Turning to his friend Darcy said, “You can do much better. You are only one generation removed from trade, and it will do no good for your social standing to add an uncle in trade to a father. Also Elizabeth — Mrs. Collins — I know her mind, she will try to give you as small a dowry as possible to reserve more for her other sisters whose husbands likely will be poorer than you. And you would let her.”

  Bingley nervously swallowed and looked down to pull at the sleeve of his coat as Darcy held his gaze on him, “They would be my sisters as well.” He brought his head up, “In truth I thought it might be a good gesture to refuse any dowry. But those things matter not at all,” Bingley now said with a pleading voice, “Do you think she loves me?”

  The desperation in Bingley’s expression showed that he thought what Darcy said now would determine his fate. In fact, it annoyed Darcy. In a case of this sort a man ought to keep his own counsel. Darcy himself would certainly not depend upon the opinions of his friends to guess at the feelings of his lady.

  For an instant Darcy thought to meander towards his response, to speak first of what he had heard Mrs. Bennet say, or to agree with Miss Bingley that Jane’s countenance was similar no matter who she spoke to. But Bingley’s worried eyes convinced Darcy that to tease him right now would be similar to kicking a puppy.

  “Bingley you should trust your own judgment in a case such as this, but for my part I am convinced Miss Bennet loves you.” Darcy saw Miss Bingley make a startled interjection and she opened her mouth to try to speak, Darcy thought after she had forced him to this it was perfectly proper to speak over a lady. “Mrs. Collins told me she thought her sister to have a deep affection for you, and afterwards I watched Miss Bennet closely, both with you and with others, and though she is not open or overt, her feelings are clear. In truth the way her eyes linger on you, and the way she appears pleased when you approach is quite sweet.”

  Bingley brightened as Darcy spoke, and by the time Darcy finished he positively glowed. Any annoyance Darcy felt with Bingley’s lack of resolution and need for reassurance was overcome by the contagiousness of his pleasure. Darcy smiled back at his friend, while Miss Bingley stood with a defeated scowl to the side.

  “Well then,” Bingley said, “I believe I have a call to make.” He stood and without ceremony half ran out of the room and closed the door rather too hard. They all could hear Bingley’s shout, “saddle up my horse, and bring me my best jacket — the blue one.”

  Darcy smiled as Bingley’s enthusiasm came clearly through his voice. He looked around, Mrs. Hurst had a similar scowl to her sister’s, but Mr. Hurst had looked up from his port and said, “He may be a puppy, but he certainly is a happy one.”

  With a mischievous thought Darcy turned to Miss Bingley, “I know you did not wish this, but you ought to bring yourself to feel happy for your brother. He will marry where there is strong affection.”

  Miss Bingley gave an unladylike snort and turned to leave the room. As she reached the door though she turned around, “You and Elizabeth — I mean Mrs. Collins. When am I to wish you joy?”

  Darcy’s good humor fled, and for a sad and aching moment he desperately wished he could marry Elizabeth, “That shall not happen.”

  Miss Bingley’s bright smile at his response left Darcy even sadder. She then curtsied and left the room.

  Then with a bow of his own Darcy exited, as he walked to the stables, planning to go on a long ride, he thought that it would be so easy to forget what he owed his family, his name, and their illustrious history. He could so easily ask Elizabeth, and then she would always be there to tease him and lighten his mood with her laugh. He would always be able to look at her bright eyes and smile with her. And — for a moment Darcy imagined holding her in his arms, kissing her, a wedding night, her body on his bed — Darcy forced his mind away from that image.

  He’d not disrespect her so.

  And it was impossible. Right?

  * * * * *

  The morning after Bingley’s ball the Bennet woman all gathered in the sitting room, Kitty eagerly described her dances, while Mrs. Bennet expressed her happiness again and again at Mr. Bingley’s attentions to Jane, Mary spoke less, but had been pleased by the reception her playing received. Lydia sighed jealously, “I so wish I could have gone! It was such a bore here at home!”

  Elizabeth laughed, “A few more months only dear Lydia. You’ll enjoy it all the more for the wait.”

  Good cheer bubbled through Elizabeth as she heard Jane hum the tune from the last dance of the night. Soon, very soon, Elizabeth hoped Jane would be engaged to the man she had chosen. Everyone was happy, even Lydia who almost accepted Elizabeth’s reasons for delaying her coming out: she was still really young.

  While they all still remained in the sitting room they heard the surprisingly early sound of horse hooves rapidly coming up the drive. A glance out the window showed it to be Bingley’s horse, with Bingley attached. Jane colored at Elizabeth’s knowing look, and the ladies quickly rearranged themselves to receive their visitor. Bingley was announced and he wore a handsome blue coat which Jane had admired before. For a moment he seemed flustered to be met by the gaze of six women, but Bingley quickly recovered himself and with passable manners engaged in the pleasantries, and listened to Mrs. Bennet’s pleased greeting with patience.

  The entire time though, his eye and manner showed him to be fully focused on Jane. At this marked attention Jane reddened and showed a pleased embarrassment. After Bingley sat next to Jane, Mrs. Bennet found an excuse to send Kitty and Lydia off, and suggested to Mary that she ought to practice, as everyone had liked her playing so much the night before. Bingley added, “Your performance was really excellent Miss Mary, it is astonishing how you young ladies can become so skilled, it must take a great deal of time. I certainly would not wish you to lose the opportunity to surpass your current level due to a need to entertain me.”

  Mary gave a pleased smile at Bingley’s compliment, and with a curtsy left the room Elizabeth smiled as she saw Bingley wished to clear the room as much as Mrs. Bennet did. Now that it was just the four of them Mrs. Bennet gave Elizabeth a pleading look, as though to say, ‘please, just this once do as I ask,’ before she stood and said, “I just recalled that I must make sure our cook has all of the stores she will need for Christmas laid in. Lizzy could you come with me to speak to her?”

  Elizabeth smiled, and as she stood Jane shot her a worried look. Elizabeth thought Jane’s look said she half wanted Elizabeth to stay, and half desperately wished her away. Elizabeth winked at her sister and followed her mother. In the hallway she found that while Mary had gone off to practice, as the sound of the piano could be faintly heard from the music room, Kitty and Lydia were both in the hall hoping to listen to Jane and Bingley’s conversation. Elizabeth silently shooed them away and then pushed her mother towards the kitchen, “Let us give them their privacy.”

  It was a good thirty minutes before Jane and Bingley found the rest of the family in the music room, where Elizabeth and Mrs. Bennet sat nervously. Kitty and Lydia were very excited, as they talked to each other about whether Jane might convince Bingley to throw another ball when Lydia would be able to attend. Mary had stopped practicing to listen to their conversation.

  Jane and Bingley both were red in the face, and held hands, and by their manner and expression it was quite clear they had reached an understanding. Elizabeth smiled brightly as her mother stood, “Oh Jane, my dear, dear Jane! I am so happy for you!”

  Mrs. Bennet embraced her daughter, and then turned to Mr. Bingley who, with the broadest smile Elizabeth had ever seen on a person’s face asked, “Mrs. Bennet, may I have permission to marry your daughter?”

  “Oh yes, oh yes! My dear, dear Mr. Bingley, I am so pleased, and Jane is as well. And you are so handsome! And rich! Why I am so happy I might go distracted!”


  Elizabeth embraced Jane, and shook Bingley’s hand heartily with a broad smile. “I will be very pleased to call you brother.”

  The other sisters gathered around and talked excitedly, and asked Jane and Bingley question after question. Bingley, and his perpetual smile, stayed the rest of the day, and handled Mrs. Bennet’s constant expressions of joy admirably. He and Jane glowed in their closeness. Elizabeth saw that whenever the two thought they were not observed Bingley would grab Jane’s hand and hold it, and Jane would blush prettily.

  Elizabeth could not stop smiling at the tenderness and affection between the two, and the one time Jane caught Elizabeth looking she smiled defiantly and squeezed Bingley’s hand harder. Elizabeth thought that right then she was quite possibly is happy as the couple. All she had ever wanted was for her dear Jane to be happy and find love, and every time Bingley looked at her sister with his heart in his eyes, every time Jane blushed or smiled, Elizabeth swelled with happy satisfaction.

  Though Bingley stayed the entire day, none of the other Netherfield party showed, Elizabeth had hoped to see Darcy but was too pleased by Jane’s happiness to feel disappointed. When Bingley left well after supper Elizabeth said to Jane “I think you two will be very happy, with your similarity of temper and mind, and with the kindness and generosity you both display. I really am so very pleased to see my Jane settled well.”

  Later that night after they had prepared for bed Jane came to Elizabeth’s room in her nightdress and said, “I really ought to be quite cross with you. You should not have spoken to Mr. Darcy of my feelings.”

  Jane’s continued smile and radiant look showed she was not really unhappy, and Elizabeth was sensible that she had betrayed her sister’s confidence, and reddened, “I ought not have. I had misinterpreted something Darcy said, and replied without thought.” Elizabeth adopted a pleading expression, “I hope you will not hate me for this.”

  “Oh, I never could hate you!” Jane smiled brilliantly again, sat on the bed next to Elizabeth, and seized her sister’s hand, “I am so happy! I cannot stop smiling. I only wish you were as happy as I!”