Chapter 16 #2
One was young, still a girl, not more than Georgie’s age.
She had her share of prettiness, but favoured Mrs Collins sufficiently that she must be a sister.
The other was a young woman with dark hair and flashing eyes set in an inquisitive face.
While no classic beauty, she was very pretty in her own way.
If her personality matched her face, Richard considered she would make a worthy companion.
She clearly knew Darcy from his time in Hertfordshire, for she narrowed her eyes upon seeing him before quickly schooling her features into something more civil. This was interesting!
The young girl was, indeed, Mrs Collins’ sister Maria, and the lady with the dark hair was Elizabeth Bennet, Mrs Collins’ dear friend from home, visiting for some weeks.
Polite words of greeting were exchanged, and the customary moment of awkward silence ensued.
Then Darcy stirred himself to address his hostess.
“This is a charming house, and the garden is delightful. It must be splendid when in full bloom.” Richard’s eyebrows rose. His cousin was making a great effort to be sociable.
Mrs Collins thanked him with an indulgent smile. “Mr Collins takes care of the garden; it is, I believe, his particular talent to coax the flowers into their full potential. I have not yet seen the garden in late spring or summer, but I anticipate it gladly.”
There was more silence. Darcy settled back into his chair, and his lips tightened. He had clearly said everything he was going to say for some time. Miss Bennet broke the silence.
“My cousin tells me you have recently returned from the Bermudas, Colonel.” Her voice was pleasant and lilting. “If you have not tired completely of the topic, I would very much like to hear about the place.”
With this invitation, Richard began to speak.
He could, he knew, be quite engaging, and before long he had the company in the room laughing at his anecdotes and sighing over his descriptions of the isles.
He had recounted his experiences a great many times since his return and had cultivated his response to the inevitable invitation to speak.
His company—with the possible exception of the parson himself—was most genial, and he was encouraged in his recital by appreciative faces and frequent questions.
Miss Bennet had the most to say in response.
She was witty and intelligent, and her questions were insightful.
She sat forward in her chair, lips slightly parted as he spoke, her eyes wide with interest. “But what of the sugar cane plantations?” she asked.
“How does that business relate to the military interests of the forts? Do the members of society there relate more to the plantation owners or to the officers?”
Her questions made him think, and when he answered with a particularly clever quip, she laughed. She did not titter or giggle but was not afraid to show mirth. The more they spoke, the more he liked her. Emily, he considered, would most definitely approve of Miss Bennet!
And through it all, Darcy sat in his chair with tight lips and a stony face, saying nothing.
Tea was served, and the general subject changed to that of the weather and how Mrs Collins found the neighbourhood, which she answered with some animation.
Richard’s first impressions of the parson’s wife were confirmed as she spoke.
She was sensible and unaffected, and expressed gratitude for her position in the community.
She seemed the sort to listen to his aunt’s pronouncements and advice and nod sagely and appreciatively, before continuing to do things exactly the way she, herself, preferred.
If anyone were to institute each of Lady Catherine’s commandments, it would surely be Mr Collins.
Richard could well imagine his sycophantic responses to some of Lady Catherine’s most outrageous comments.
“Eggshells in the vegetable patch? What an excellent suggestion! A different cut of meat from the butcher? Why, we shall do that immediately! No apples after five o’clock?
Most beneficial for health!” He struggled to control the chuckle that burbled in his chest.
Soon enough, the teacups were empty and the plate of sweets bare, and one more of those gaps in conversation ensued.
To Richard’s surprise, it was Darcy who filled the empty air. “I hope your family are well, Miss Bennet.” He spoke as if he knew them, and rather well; what had Darcy been up to that he had become so intimate with this family?
Miss Bennet seemed as surprised at the comment as was Richard. She blinked and cleared her throat. Once more, her eyes narrowed for a brief moment before she spoke.
“Thank you, Mr Darcy. They are all well, or at least, they were before my journey here. I trust nothing untoward has happened during my absence.”
There was more silence. Then, with a pointed look, she said, “My eldest sister has been in Town these three months. Have you never happened to see her there?”
Darcy’s stony face paled and his shoulders stiffened.
What was the story behind their prior acquaintance?
It must be something rather unusual. “I… I did not have the pleasure of seeing Miss Bennet whilst in Town.” His voice was flat.
There was more silence. Mr Collins shifted in his chair, looking as uncomfortable as a man could do in his own home, and Miss Bennet glared at Darcy.
This would never do. It seemed it was up to Richard to turn the mood of the room to something less fraught.
“I say, just a few days ago, Darcy and I saw the most splendid exhibit at the gallery. Venetian and Italian landscapes. Are you an art lover, Mrs Collins?”
That lady smiled and released a quiet sigh of relief, and the group discussed painting for a few minutes before it was time to depart.
But Miss Bennet never returned to her animated manner from before her question about her sister, and Darcy’s face grew more and more stony.
His cousin most certainly owed him a story over this!