Chapter 6
JUST AS HE PLEASES
This was the first Sunday since Elizabeth’s arrival that did not entail tea at Rosings after the sermon.
She looked forward to the liberty of an afternoon away from not only Lady Catherine but from her cousin Mr. Collins as well, for he and Charlotte were invited to one of the parishioners’ homes.
Elizabeth was not inclined to go with them, and hence, she chose not to—a feat that was infinitely easier to accomplish than eschewing an invitation from Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Trying as hard as she did, Elizabeth continued to endure the overbearing aristocrat with measured civility and the requisite impertinence when the woman’s curiosity, veiled insults, and derisive innuendos would not otherwise be repressed.
Her situation was not entirely bad, for she could rightly say her exhibition skills had improved significantly what with all her practicing of late.
Mr. Darcy seems to enjoy listening to me play well enough, she thought.
However, Lady Catherine complained that Elizabeth needed more practice else she would never be considered accomplished, even for a young woman of Elizabeth’s station as someone whom her ladyship had surmised by now might just as well be a governess or a companion.
Elizabeth thought of the irony of Lady Catherine’s disparagement. She laments my chances of finding a husband owing to my age as well as my station when I wager I am more likely to marry one of her nephews before her daughter does.
For a while, Elizabeth allowed herself to engage in fanciful notions of what it would be like to be married to Mr. Darcy.
Though she would admit it to no one, she was beginning to look forward to time in his company.
She had hardly made a start of imagining herself as Mr. Darcy’s wife before she banished the thought.
Her ladyship would suffer a fit of apoplexy if she were to suppose for one instance that I might be the means of ruining her hopes for a union between her nephew and her daughter.
The makings of a great financial dynasty would be at stake—one too tempting for even Mr. Darcy to renounce.
Of that Elizabeth had no doubt. In her limited experience, men of Mr. Darcy’s ilk wanted nothing more than to expand their wealth and power.
She further suspected that it mattered not one bit to such ambitious men the required means of accomplishing their goals.
On the other hand, Lady Catherine’s nephew Colonel Fitzwilliam was worthy of serious consideration on Elizabeth’s part.
In all the ways that mattered most, he satisfied her notion of everything a true gentleman ought to be.
Of the two of her ladyship’s nephews, he was by far the more amiable.
Elizabeth liked him very much. She was confident that she would be just as happy with him as she would with anyone else.
A feeling deep down inside of her suggested otherwise.
It had been a while since any gentleman’s presence wreaked such havoc on her sensibilities and made her tremble inside with a look or a word or a touch.
Mr. Darcy. What was this power he had over her?
She was not afraid of him; of that she was certain.
If only her mind could persuade her heart not to skip a beat whenever he walked in the room.
Deciding her time was better spent perusing Jane’s latest letter than deliberating what in all likelihood would never be, Elizabeth commenced doing just that.
Walking along with her mind full of all Jane had to say about those matters pertaining to Lydia’s Brighton adventure and Kitty’s unrelenting protests, Elizabeth was surprised upon looking up that Colonel Fitzwilliam was meeting her.
What a fortunate coincidence for her. She tucked her letter away and smiled. “I did not know that you ever walked this way, sir.”
“I generally like to make a tour of the park every now and again. I intend to call on the parsonage. Are you planning to go much farther? If not, it will be my great pleasure if you would turn and accompany me on this fine day.”
“I shall be delighted to walk with you, sir,” Elizabeth said, turning. They commenced walking to the parsonage together.
“How much longer can we expect the pleasure of your company before you return to town?”
“That, Miss Bennet, is entirely at my cousin’s discretion. He arranges things just as he pleases.”
“I am not surprised. Mr. Darcy, as far as I can tell, likes to have his own way.” Elizabeth spoke from experience. He had, after all, taken up the task of accompanying her from Rosings to Kent, and all because she had turned down the offer of his carriage.
“Indeed, he does, as do we all. He simply has the better means of accomplishing it than others because he is rich. Money is power, as they say. As a younger son I speak feelingly, as I must be inured to self-denial and dependence.”
She laughed a little at this picture he painted of himself. “Surely you jest, sir. I am given to believe the younger son of an earl must know very little of either.”
“That is where you are mistaken, Miss Bennet. The coincidence of one’s order of birth can mean the difference between inheriting all of a family’s wealth and having to take up the law or some other respectable livelihood, as in my case, becoming an officer.”
The colonel sighed. “Indeed, as the second son of an earl, I am not even at liberty to marry where I like. Our rather expensive habits make us far too dependent. That in conjunction with our families’ rank effectively prevents us from marrying without some attention to money.
My excellent father, for one, would be most displeased were I to fail in securing an alliance that would alleviate him of my financial burden and possibly bolster even further our family’s noble status. ”
Thinking the colonel’s lengthy speech was in some way directed at her, Elizabeth colored a little. She did not intend to have him think she was affected, and she quickly recovered. She playfully teased, “Pray what is the usual price for an earl’s second son?”
He answered in the same tone as the question was asked, and soon that particular subject was dropped.
Directing their intercourse back to where it had started, she inquired of Mr. Darcy.
“I wonder he did not join you to call at the parsonage. On the other hand, I suppose he might have found such an occasion rather tedious in light of his taciturn nature.”
“My cousin does not always express himself so freely as others. He states that he does not possess the talent of conversing easily with those who are unconnected to him and that he cannot catch the tone of their conversation or appear interested in their concerns.”
“Well, sir, I suppose you know him best. What say you to his assertion?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam chuckled. “I often tease him that he simply does not give himself the trouble. In truth, he means no harm. Suffice it to say, my cousin is one of the best men I know. He is a loyal friend, a generous master, and a loving brother. There is nothing he would not do for those who are really his friends. He takes prodigious care of those whom he deems worthy of his devotion.”
“That is until he no longer considers the person worthy, I wager.”
“I take it that you are referring to the cessation of his friendship with George Wickham?”
“I suppose I am. Your cousin and I are quite at odds over the matter of Mr. Wickham. He seems to have taken up your aunt’s cause in warning me against the gentleman.”
“I believe Darcy only has you and your family’s best interest at heart in warning you against that gentleman. No doubt, he does not wish to see what happened to a particular young lady of his acquaintance befall anyone else.”
“What happened?” Elizabeth exclaimed with energy. In a more disinterested fashion, she continued, “If it is not asking too much, who was the young lady?”
In a somewhat uneasy manner, the colonel said, “I have said all I can. It is, after all, not my story to tell.”
“You will pardon me then if I do not put any degree of credence in an indictment as vague as this. It is not that I do not respect you, but I have known Mr. Wickham far longer than I have known you. I have seen nothing in his character that would allow me to abandon my good opinion of him simply because he somehow earned your cousin’s disapprobation—a feat that is easily attained if I know anything at all about Mr. Darcy. ”
The colonel went on to speak in his cousin’s defense in such terms of generality as to be wholly unconvincing. He might as well have been whistling in the wind as far as Elizabeth was concerned.
What does it matter to me that Mr. Darcy thwarted Mr. Wickham’s attempt to elope with a young woman against the wishes of her family?
She was a young woman of some means according to the colonel.
Is that not what two young people who are violently in love do when supposed well-intended others are determined to stand in their way?
Should Mr. Darcy’s actions be judged any differently from Mr. King’s when he hastily removed his daughter, Miss Mary King, from Hertfordshire no doubt to thwart her budding courtship with Mr. Wickham.
Elizabeth had not held Mr. Wickham’s attempt to better himself by means of an advantageous alliance with a young heiress against him before. She certainly did not intend to do so now.
Seeing that her mind was made up on the subject, the colonel said no more.
He was too much of a gentleman to admonish her for maintaining her convictions however much he may not have agreed with them.
He told her as much. Changing the subject yet again, he and Elizabeth continued walking along and talking on indifferent matters until they reached the parsonage.
Neither of the two had suffered in the eyes of the other, which was a very good thing as no doubt the time they would be spending in each other’s company was nowhere near an end.