Mrs Collins called for tea, and after devouring the seed cake Charlotte had baked the previous day, the visitors stood to depart. Elizabeth walked to the front gate with the colonel while Darcy trailed behind, trying to divest himself of Mr Collins and Sir William.
"Would you care to explain why your musical skills are such a secret, sir?" she asked sotto voce.
"The sons of earls do not play the piano, Miss Bennet," he replied in kind. "Or that, at least, is what my father and Aunt Catherine believe; and I'm not sure we can trust Mr Collins with a secret."
"Then how on earth did you learn?" she asked.
"That," he replied, kissing her hand, "is a story I hope to tell you when we next meet."
Then turning towards his cousin, he barked, "C'mon, Darce, I don't have all day!" and made a show of impatience to be off.
This enabled Darcy to divest himself of his barnacles and escape the Parsonage gates.
Elizabeth could only wonder at the obsession of the gentlemen from the Parsonage with Mr Darcy. Surely an earl's son merited an equal amount of attention? She thought that Sir William merely took his tone from Mr Collins; and as to the latter, she could not decide whether he slavishly followed Lady Catherine manners, or if he thought Mr Darcy might be responsible, as the future spouse of Miss Anne, for the divestment of further livings.
Sir William left Kent the next day. His visit had been long enough to convince him of his daughter's being most comfortably settled and of her possessing such a husband and such a neighbour as were not often met with.
Chapter 25: The colonel's education
Colonel Fitzwilliam's manners were very much admired at the Parsonage, and the ladies all felt that he must add considerably to the pleasures of their engagements at Rosings. It was some days, however, before they received any invitation thither–for while there were visitors in the house, they could not be necessary. It was not 'til Easter-day, almost a week after the gentlemen's arrival, that they were honoured by such an attention, and then they were merely asked on leaving church to come there in the evening.
For the past week, they had seen very little of Lady Catherine or her daughter. Colonel Fitzwilliam had called at the Parsonage more than once during that time, but Mr Darcy, they had seen only at church.
The invitation was accepted, of course, and at a proper hour they joined the party in Lady Catherine's drawing room. Her ladyship received them civilly, but it was plain that their company was by no means so acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and she was, in fact, almost entirely engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person in the room.
Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them; anything was a welcome relief to him at Rosings; and Mrs Collins's pretty friend had moreover caught his fancy very much. He now seated himself by her, and Elizabeth saw her chance to pose her question.
"Sir, you promised to tell of your education on the piano," she coaxed.
"Certainly, Miss Bennet. You might have observed that Darcy and I know each other well. In fact, he is like a brother to me. I grew up with Darcy at Pemberley and was entranced by the piano playing of his governess."
"So Mr Darcy can play too?"
"No, no, his governess merely played for her own pleasure, although she did teach Georgiana once she was old enough. I started playing by copying her, and when she discovered my poor attempts to learn, she offered to give me lessons. I must say that I derive great satisfaction from my ability to make music."
"And why is this a great secret?" asked Lizzy.
"Merely because my father would not approve. Darcy's governess offered to provide him with musical tuition along with all the other subjects she taught, but my father does not consider it a fitting pastime for a man."
"And what of Bach and Herr Mozart?" asked Elizabeth.
"They earn their bread that way, Miss Elizabeth, and are not members of the Ton."
Elizabeth felt tempted to ask if being useless was a criterion for being a member of the Ton, but she was not sure if the colonel was being ironic or serious, and thought it safest to say nothing.
The conversation turned to other topics, and they talked so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at home, of new books and music that Elizabeth had never been half so well entertained in that room before. They conversed with so much spirit and flow as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine herself, as well as of Mr Darcy. His eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned towards them with a look of envy.
After a while, her ladyship did not scruple to call out: "What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is."
"We are speaking of music, madam," said he, when no longer able to avoid a reply.
"Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation if you are speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself or a better natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?"
Mr Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister's proficiency.
"I am very glad to hear such a good account of her," said Lady Catherine; "and pray, tell her from me that she cannot expect to excel if she does not practice a good deal."
"I assure you, madam," he replied, "that she does not need such advice. She practises very constantly."
"So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often tell young ladies that no excellence in music is to be acquired without constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet several times that she will never play really well unless she practices more."
When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of having promised to play for him. She sat down directly to the instrument, and he positioned himself beside her, as before, to play the left hand while she focused on her right and sang. Lady Catherine listened to half a song and then talked, as before, to her other nephew, 'til the latter walked away from her, and making with his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte, stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer's countenance.
Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first convenient pause, turned to him with an arch smile and said: "You mean to frighten me, Mr Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? I will not be alarmed, though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me."
"I shall not say you are mistaken," he replied, "because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you."
Even with the three of them grouped around the piano, Lady Catherine continue to talk over the top of them.
"Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss if she practised more and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne's. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn."
Elizabeth looked at Darcy to see how cordially he assented to his aunt's praise of his cousin; but neither at that moment nor at any other could she discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of his behaviour to Miss de Bourgh, she derived this comfort for Miss Bingley, that he might have been just as likely to marry her, had she been his relation.
Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth's performance, mixing with them many instructions on execution and taste. Elizabeth received them with all the forbearance of civility, and, at the request of the gentlemen, remained at the instrument. She and the colonel continued to surreptitiously play pieces from the Well-Tempered Clavier as duets, interspersed with songs, which Lizzy sang very creditably in
her clear bell-like voice. These ranged from a scotch air to an Italian love song.
After Darcy's initial astonishment that Elizabeth knew Italian well enough to sing it, he drifted off into agreeable daydreams for the duration of the song. Only at its end was the spell broken when a footman announced that her ladyship's carriage was ready to take the inhabitants of the Parsonage home.
In the nearness of the Parsonage, or the pleasantness of the walk to it, or of the people who lived in it, the two cousins found a temptation from this period of walking thither almost every day. They called at various times of the morning, sometimes separately, sometimes together. It was plain to them all that Colonel Fitzwilliam came because he had pleasure in their society. His general amiability reminded Elizabeth of George Wickham, though, in comparing them, she saw there was less captivating softness in Colonel Fitzwilliam's manners. Nevertheless, she believed he might have the better-informed mind.
But why Mr Darcy came so often to the Parsonage, it was more difficult to understand. It could not be for society, as he frequently sat there ten minutes together without opening his lips; and when he did speak, it seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice—a sacrifice to propriety, not a pleasure to himself. He seldom appeared really animated.
On one occasion, he arrived when the Collinses had walked into town. She heard the bell and then footsteps, and knowing that the maid was hanging washing on the line, she had just got up to investigate when he walked, unannounced, into the room.
Having arrived thus informally, she addressed him in a familiar way, "I'm afraid you've missed the Collinses, Mr Darcy. They have just left."
"Good!" he replied, and then closing his eyes for a moment, he started again. "Good day, Miss Elizabeth!"
Was he censuring her for her lack of formality? In a fit of pique, she decided to lay the burden of conversation at his door.
He stood there staring at her, shifting his weight from foot to foot, almost swaying on the spot, and biting his lip.
"Your hair!" he said. "Have you done it in a new style? There seem to be more curls?"
She suppressed a smile. Well, that was truly a bizarre conversational gambit.
"Ah, no," she replied; "the rain was misting down as I was walking this morning. I did not brush it out when I returned, so it has probably curled of its own accord."
"Indeed," he replied, "mine does the same, but always looks more disordered; whereas yours looks…" adorable, he thought, but finished with "…curlier."
He then bowed and bid her good day.
For her part, Mrs Collins knew not what to make of Mr Darcy. Colonel Fitzwilliam's occasionally laughing at his stupidity proved that he was generally different, which her own knowledge of him could not have told her; and as she would liked to have believed this change the effect of love, and the object of that love her friend Lizzy, she set herself seriously to work to find it out. She watched him whenever they were at Rosings and whenever he came to Hunsford, but without much success. He certainly looked at her friend a great deal, but the expression of that look was disputable. It was an earnest, steadfast gaze, but she often doubted whether there was much admiration in it, and sometimes it seemed nothing but absence of mind.
From her observations, Charlotte became convinced that Mr Darcy was partial to Lizzy, and one day she suggested the possibility to her friend.
"Lizzy, I often find Mr Darcy staring at you. I believe he is admiring you."
"Don't be ridiculous, Charlotte," she laughed. "Mr Darcy would be constantly surrounded by beauties at Ton parties. I'm sure I couldn't hold a candle to them."
"Lizzy, I sometimes think you live in your sister's shadow: you sadly underestimate your own beauty. You may not have Jane's guinea gold hair, which, I admit, is the fashion, but your dark locks are just as beautiful, and you have far more countenance and esprit."
"Charlotte, you are embarrassing me. If that were true, my dance card would always be full like Jane's. But, no, I'm afraid Mr Darcy had the right of it after all, even if it was cruel of him to say it publicly: I am tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt him."
Charlotte merely shook her head.
Chapter 26: Hunsford
Several days passed and Lizzy continued with her morning rambles. Her favourite walk, and where she frequently went while the others were calling on Lady Catherine, was along the open grove that edged that side of the park where there was a nice sheltered path, which no one seemed to value but herself, and where she felt beyond the reach of Lady Catherine's curiosity.
More than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the park, unexpectedly meet Mr Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought, and, to prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him at first that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even a third. It seemed like wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance–in the spirit of their truce; for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her. He never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or of listening much; but it struck her in the course of their third encounter that he was asking some odd unconnected questions—about her pleasure in the theatre, whether she had any favourite flower, and her opinion of Mr and Mrs Collins' happiness.
She was engaged one day as she walked in perusing Jane's last letter and dwelling on some passages which proved that Jane had not written in spirits when, instead of being again surprised by Mr Darcy, she saw on looking up that Colonel Fitzwilliam was meeting her. Putting away the letter immediately and forcing a smile, she said:
"I did not know before that you ever walked this way."
"I have been making the tour of the park," he replied, "as I generally do every year, and intend to close it with a call at the Parsonage. Are you going much farther?"
"No, I should have turned in a moment."
And accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards the Parsonage together.
"Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?" said she.
"Yes—if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his disposal. He arranges the business just as he pleases."
"And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has at least pleasure in the great power of choice. I do not know anybody who seems more to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr Darcy."
"He likes to have his own way very well," replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. "But so we all do. It is only that he has better means of having it than many others because he is rich and many others are poor. I speak feelingly–a younger son, you know, must be inured to self-denial and dependence."
"In my opinion, the younger son of an earl can know very little of either."
The colonel laughed, "Touché!"
"I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for the sake of having someone at his disposal. I wonder he does not marry to secure a lasting convenience of that kind. But, perhaps, his sister does as well for the present, and, as she is under his sole care, he may do what he likes with her."
"No," said Colonel Fitzwilliam, "that is an advantage which he must divide with me. I am joined with him in the guardianship of Miss Darcy."
"Are you indeed? And pray what sort of guardians do you make? Does your charge give you much trouble? Young ladies of her age are sometimes a little difficult to manage, and if she has the true Darcy spirit, she may like to have her own way."
As she spoke, she observed the colonel looking at her earnestly; and the manner in which he immediately asked her why she supposed Miss Darcy likely to give them any uneasiness convinced her that she had somehow or other got pretty near the truth. She thought it best to change the subject.
"So you and Mr Darcy spent some time together in your youth?"
"We grew up like brothers at Pemberley. My family seat is not nine miles aw
ay, so we saw each other often as youngsters. I was sent to live there permanently when I was ten. Mrs Reynolds says we have been as thick as thieves ever since."
"Mrs Reynolds?"
"The housekeeper–an old family retainer at Pemberley."
"So is your family seat short of rooms?" she grinned.
"No," he laughed, "although I suppose it has never been big enough for my brother and me. He is the Viscount Stanley, you know. We fought rather a lot, which I suppose was one consideration in sending me away. Mostly it was because Darcy's parents died when he was eight, and I was sent to keep him company; otherwise he would have been knocking about all alone in that great big house–well, if you don't count all the servants and his governess."
"And where was his sister?"
"Well, she was just a new born babe. In fact, they did not think she would survive. She spent the first three years of her life in London being tended by nurses and a physician."
"It is very sad that he lost his parents so early. Was it an epidemic?"
"No, no, a carriage accident. Darcy was involved too, but miraculously he escaped injury. He was, in fact, the only soul that survived, though he almost died from the chill. They found him kneeling in the snow, holding his mother's hand."
Elizabeth recalled Mr Wickham had said something of his godfather's death in a carriage accident; but she did not remember his mentioning that his wife had also died or that his son had also been involved. She felt a wave of sympathy towards the enigmatic Mr Darcy, and briefly wondered how such a tragic event might have influenced his character; but she sought to change the subject before her mind was overwhelmed by such melancholy thoughts. The colonel's story had reminded her of Mr Wickham.
I Met Mr Darcy Via Luton Page 13