Chapter Eight
T he next morning, Elizabeth received lectures from both Mr. Collins and Charlotte regarding the inadvisability of speaking with Mr. Darcy.
“What would you have had me do?” she asked, when she was finally permitted to speak. “He sat beside me and spoke to me. Tell me exactly what I should have done. Should I have gotten up from my seat and found another? Should I have stared at the floor as he spoke? Should I have pretended not to understand English?”
They could not answer her. Finally, Charlotte said, “You are right; there was nothing to do but to respond in a friendly manner.”
“Which is exactly what I did, yet here I find myself censured.” Her tone was irritable.
Charlotte turned to her husband. “Mr. Collins, Eliza did nothing wrong.”
“No, indeed! And there was a seat open beside Miss de Bourgh; it was up to him to select that spot,” Elizabeth insisted.
“It is impossible for Mr. Darcy to be at fault,” Mr. Collins asserted. “He is of the very highest circles.”
Elizabeth laughed, though it was not a merry sound. “Yes, so you have said, more than once. And yet, I discovered that he really is the very same Mr. Darcy who was expected to visit his friend Charles Bingley at Netherfield.”
“Really!” Charlotte was amazed.
“Yes; he knew his friend had married a local lady, but of course did not know that the new Mrs. Bingley is my eldest sister. What an odd coincidence!”
Mr. Collins said, “Well, that explains the extended conversation, then. I shall explain it to Lady Catherine and assure her that she need not fear a repeat of it.”
Elizabeth turned to him. “I wish to make certain that I understand what is expected of me in the future. If we are invited again to Rosings Park…”
“Which I think unlikely, as long as Mr. Darcy is here,” Charlotte interrupted.
“Very well; if I happen upon him while walking about the grounds, what would you have me do?”
“Turn away before he sees you,” Mr. Collins advised.
“But let us suppose that he does see me and he speaks to me.”
“Reply briefly and hurry on.”
“So engage with him as little as possible, even if it means that I am being rude?”
Mr. Collins responded with “Exactly,” and his wife with “Do not be rude,” at the same time.
Elizabeth stared at the two of them and shook her head just as Sir Lucas descended the stairs with his valise in hand. With profuse thanks for the hospitality shown him, and expressions of delight at his daughter’s happy situation, he hugged and kissed both Charlotte and Maria, bowed to Elizabeth, and then walked outside to his waiting carriage, followed by his two daughters and Mr. Collins. Sir Lucas climbed into the carriage and banged on the ceiling of the coach, alerting the coachman that he was ready to be off. The coach started off and soon disappeared around the bend.
Elizabeth took advantage of her host’s momentary distraction to pin on her bonnet and head outdoors through the kitchen door. She walked at a fast and furious pace, angry at the situation she had been put into, and resentful of everyone involved. It was, of course, inevitable that she should meet up with the Colonel and Mr. Darcy. Mindful of her instructions, she curtsied to the two men and changed direction.
“Miss Bennet, wait!” the Colonel called out.
Sighing, she stopped and waited. The two men caught up with her in a moment.
“It is a lovely day, is it not?” Mr. Darcy enquired.
“It is,” she replied.
“You are fond of walking, I gather?” the Colonel said.
“I am.” She looked away.
The two gentlemen exchanged glances. The Colonel said, gently, “Might I ask if you have been given instruction regarding further interaction with Darcy here?”
Elizabeth was silent.
“Your silence tells me everything I need to know,” Mr. Darcy said in disgust.
She looked up at him, anger in her eyes. “You are all but engaged to your cousin. By sitting beside me last evening, rather than taking your proper seat beside her, I have been subjected to an inquisition from your aunt and an entire morning’s worth of lectures from my cousin Collins and his wife, Charlotte. I beg you, Mr. Darcy, do me the immense favour of ignoring me!”
Mr. Darcy stared at her. He drank her in, every bit of her. Her eyes, her hair, her complexion, memorizing her features, and turned away.
But then he turned back to her, his expression hardened. “I will not. I think, truly, that I cannot . And I can only beg you not to insist upon it.”
Elizabeth replied, uncomfortably, “Mr. Darcy, I do not care for myself. Lady Catherine can make me unhappy, but she cannot harm me. She can, however, harm my dearest friend, Mrs. Collins. Do you not see the position you place me in?”
“I do, of course, and I will not pretend that my aunt is incapable of taking her revenge upon them. But can we not meet here, in the grounds of the estate?”
She hesitated. Under normal circumstances, she would have been delighted to spend more time with the very handsome and well-spoken Mr. Darcy. But these were not normal circumstances. “We will be seen; it is inevitable. And, in any case, it is not proper for me to arrange to meet with you. I am truly not comfortable with this conversation.”
The Colonel spoke. “May Darcy and I not call on you at the parsonage? It would be the polite thing to do, now that we have been introduced.”
Mr. Darcy added, quickly, “And surely I should call on the sister of my good friend’s wife; good manners demand it of me!”
The Colonel looked puzzled; then his brow cleared. “You told me Bingley had married; his wife is Miss Bennet’s sister? That is astonishing!”
“Yes, my elder sister, Jane, is now Mrs. Bingley.”
“Then it would be entirely proper for Darcy here to call on you, would it not?” the Colonel said.
“I suppose so, but to what end?”
Mr. Darcy answered, “Frankly, Miss Bennet, I enjoy your company. And enjoyable company is in short supply at Rosings Park.”
Elizabeth smiled at him. “I can well believe that, Mr. Darcy. But please take great care not to mention these visits to your aunt!”
“Very well, we are agreed. May we not escort you back to the parsonage?”
“You may indeed,” Elizabeth said, happy that a reason had been found for her to be in Mr. Darcy’s company.
As they walked back to Mr. Collins’ cottage, Mr. Darcy enquired about Mr. and Mrs. Bingley. “They are happy, I imagine?”
“Newlyweds are always happy, I think,” Elizabeth laughed. “But yes, they could not be more so. Their temperaments make them well-suited to one another; both are more inclined to be happy than not, more inclined to be generous than not, more inclined to be pleasant to others than not.”
“It sounds as if Bingley has met his perfect match,” Mr. Darcy mused.
“I believe that he has, Mr. Darcy. And if any woman in this world has the right to be happy, it is Jane. She is lovely, but more importantly, she is the sweetest, gentlest woman in the world. She has never, to my knowledge, uttered an unkind word about anyone.”
“She sounds too good to be true,” the Colonel remarked.
“I am certain that I sound like a fond sister, but if you were ever to meet her, you would agree with me.”
“And Mrs. Collins?” the Colonel asked. “She is a good friend, is she not?”
“We grew up together, Charlotte and I. She was my best friend in all the world, after my sisters.”
“There are more sisters?” Mr. Darcy enquired.
“There are five daughters, but no boys, more’s the pity. My father’s estate is entailed to Mr. Collins, who is a distant cousin.”
“What? The parson? That idiot – I most sincerely beg your pardon, Miss Bennet, that was very ill-done of me!” Mr. Darcy was clearly embarrassed.
“As it happens, I agree with you, as any sensible person must, but there it is. He may kick the lot of us out of the house the moment my father passes away. Now perhaps you understand my concern a little better; there is nothing good to come from upsetting your aunt and, by extension, Mr. Collins.”
“And he married your good friend! How very odd,” the Colonel said.
Elizabeth blushed and turned her head. She would not for the world reveal that Mr. Collins had first proposed to her! But she did not reckon on Mr. Darcy’s keen eye, for her change of colour had told him that the current Mrs. Collins had not perhaps been the man’s first choice.
By now, they had reached the rectory. Elizabeth walked in, saying loudly, “Look who I found walking in the shrubberies, Charlotte!”
Mrs. Collins appeared in the entryway. She looked flustered and uncomfortable upon seeing her guests, but her innate good manners forced her to welcome the two gentlemen into the parlour and offer refreshments. “Mr. Collins is visiting a parishioner, though I expect that he will return soon,” she said. Her words were a warning that they had not much time. “He will be sorry to have missed you.”
“And we will be sorry to have missed him, as we shall not stay long,” Mr. Darcy replied. “But we are delighted at the prospect of hearing more about Meryton from you and Miss Bennet. I am certain to visit Bingley at his estate – Netherfield, is it? – sometime soon.”
“Indeed, he spoke of you often, Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Collins replied. “He counts on you to advise him as to the purchase of Netherfield.”
“And how far is Netherfield from the Bennet home?” Mr. Darcy asked.
“Three miles,” Mrs. Collins and Miss Bennet answered in unison.
Mrs. Collins laughed. “Eliza here has walked it often enough!”
“Are you a good walker, then?” the Colonel asked.
Mrs. Collins answered for her. “Eliza cannot get enough of the outdoors!”
Elizabeth blushed. “Be fair, Charlotte. I spend a good deal of time indoors, as a young lady must, but I think exercise beneficial for everyone.”
Mr. Darcy nodded. “I agree completely; too many young ladies seem afraid to venture out of doors.”
Elizabeth replied, “We young ladies are told that our complexions must be perfectly white; in order to gain such perfect skin, we must avoid the sun as if it were a mortal enemy. You will note that my complexion is not perfectly white and it is even a bit freckled, much to the dismay of my mother.”
Both gentlemen protested vigorously at the notion that there was anything lacking in Miss Bennet’s visage, until the lady in question, blushing rosily, begged them to stop.
***
As they walked back to Rosings, Mr. Darcy asked his cousin the question that had nagged at him since seeing him laughing with Miss Bennet at Lady Catherine’s table. “Are you interested in Miss Bennet, Richard?”
“I like her very much!”
“Do you think her pretty?”
“Very pretty, and intelligent, as well. Darcy, do you want me to be interested in her?”
Mr. Darcy frowned at his cousin. “No.”
The Colonel laughed. “That is what I suspected.”
“Richard, I cannot marry Anne.” Mr. Darcy spoke with great determination.
“Of course you cannot, Darcy; no one should ever have expected it of you.”
***
Mr. Collins stood hidden in the shrubberies and watched as Mr. Darcy and the Colonel left the parsonage. Once they were safely away, he walked into his home, brow furrowed.
“Why were Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam here?” he asked his wife immediately.
“And good afternoon to you as well, Mr. Collins!” was her spirited response.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Collins. Very well, I shall enquire again: why were Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam here?”
“They came upon Eliza on a walk and escorted her back to the parsonage.”
“And then left immediately?”
“Of course not, Mr. Collins. They are the nephews of our patroness; are you suggesting that I should not have offered them refreshments?”
“They accepted the refreshments and then left?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Very well; but I shall have another word with Cousin Elizabeth on the subject.”