Chapter 7
REMAINS UNANSWERED
Several weeks later, what with regularly being thrown into each other’s paths either at church or Rosings, Darcy’s attention towards Elizabeth had not waned.
He did not always sit with her in the east library while she practiced, but he always made certain to be on hand to accompany her back to the parsonage.
Indeed, walking alone with Elizabeth was easily his favorite part of the day.
His desire to spend more time with her caused him to delay his departure from Kent as well and on more than one occasion.
Elizabeth was never quite so lively during their walks as when in the colonel’s company.
Darcy attributed this to his own reticence.
Surely she looked forward to their time together as much as he did.
Whenever he would speak, she always responded in kind, which confirmed his thinking that she was merely following his lead.
On that particular day, Darcy sought to satisfy his curiosity on Elizabeth’s ideas of marriage. How a young woman as charming as Elizabeth could have reached the age of nearly one and twenty and not secured a marriage proposal was difficult for him to fathom.
“Mr. Collins appears to be very fortunate in his choice of wife.”
Elizabeth nodded. “My friend is one of the few sensible women, I believe, who would have accepted him. He is very fortunate in that regard. However, as sensible as Mrs. Collins is, I have not always considered her marrying Mr. Collins the wisest thing she ever did.”
“She seems perfectly happy.”
“I suppose you are correct. In a prudential light, it is a very good match for her. She takes a great deal of comfort in being mistress of her own home.”
“And what of your preferences for your own marital felicity, Miss Bennet?”
“In what respect, Mr. Darcy?”
“Pray what is it that satisfies your fondest wish as regards the prospect of marriage? Surely you mean to marry. Is that not what every young woman dreams of?”
“It is most important to me that I honor and respect my future husband. I am certain I could never truly be happy if either of those two things was missing. To settle for anything less would no doubt subject the gentleman and me to misery of the acutest kind.”
The manner in which her father regarded her mother over the years had taught her that at least one, if not both, of those essential elements was missing in her parents’ union. Such a marriage was not for her.
“You made no mention of love and affection. Do you not aspire to a love match, Miss Bennet?”
“First of all, sir, if we are to engage in intercourse of such an intimate nature as this, may I prevail upon you to address me as Miss Elizabeth? I often find myself looking about in search of my eldest sister, Jane, whenever I hear, ‘Miss Bennet.’”
“I shall be honored to address you as Miss Elizabeth. In fact, I am delighted to do so. That said, my question remains unanswered.”
“Sir, I might as well ask the same question of you. I am not unaware of your presumed engagement to your cousin Miss de Bourgh. Surely it is not an arrangement with any manner of love or affection as its basis, were one to judge by your attentiveness towards her.”
“I would beg you not to give credence to any notion that I am engaged to marry my cousin.”
“Why ever not? Is it not widely circulated among those who know you and your family best?”
“Which still does not make it true. The truth is that Lady Catherine desires the match. She heralds it as a favorite wish of my late mother as well as herself. Anne does not wish it. I certainly do not.”
Elizabeth could hardly believe what she was hearing.
It was true that between the gentleman and his cousin there existed no evidence of anything beyond a familial affection for each other.
What did that matter? She knew enough about people of their ilk to understand that upholding family loyalty overrode all else, even the heart. Especially the heart.
“If that is indeed the case then my question stands. Do you desire a love match, Mr. Darcy?”
“I can say with utter conviction that, yes, I do, Miss Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth and Darcy, as involved in their own discourse as they were, did not notice that the colonel was quickly heading their way.
“What a pleasant surprise this is seeing the two of you,” he said when he reached them.
Darcy said, “I am accompanying Miss Bennet to the parsonage. Shall I look for you at Rosings upon my return, or do you have other plans?”
“If the two of you do not object, I would much rather turn back and walk to the parsonage as well.”
Darcy’s countenance spoke of his objection to the scheme. The colonel ignored his younger cousin, preferring Elizabeth’s warm smile as sufficient encouragement instead.
Elizabeth was grateful for the addition to their party.
Such an arrangement afforded a most convenient means of evading a topic she would rather not discuss with anyone save Jane.
Of course she would prefer to be passionately in love with the gentleman who would one day be her husband—to know that manner of love that one truly ever feels but once in a lifetime.
During their younger days, she and her sister would spend long hours talking about what it would be like to one day be carried away to live in a beautiful castle in a land far, far away with each of their own handsome princes.
But such was the very essence of fairy tales.
Elizabeth herself was nearly one and twenty and Jane even older.
In some circles, both of them would be considered spinsters.
Both young ladies were sensible enough to know their meeting with such happy endings as they fantasized would take more than a miracle.
The prospect of marrying a gentleman whom she honored and respected was certainly within Elizabeth’s grasp.
She was confident she would recognize it when she saw it, and she would not settle for anything less.
The next day when Elizabeth was returning to the parsonage with Mr. Darcy at her side, she sought to avoid any further discussion on those topics she had theretofore successfully avoided by speaking on matters of books and even the weather.
Normally, she would not have endeavored so hard to eliminate the silence between them, but Mr. Darcy had been particularly quiet that day.
“Do you have plans to leave Kent very soon?” Elizabeth inquired.
“I hope that is not your polite way of telling me that you have grown tired of my company.”
“That is not for me to say. You are Lady Catherine’s guest—and your cousin Anne’s.”
“Indeed. In truth, I would have returned to town long before now if not for—” Still unsure of how he might express his growing feelings for Elizabeth in a manner that would not give her false hope, Darcy held his tongue.
“If not for what, Mr. Darcy?”
“It is not important. Pray when do you plan to return to Hertfordshire?”
“I will remain here for another month. After that I shall spend time in town with my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner.”
“I suppose they are your relations in Cheapside whom you spoke of before.”
“Indeed, they are my relations in trade. You will recall how abhorred your aunt was when she learned of them. Do you share her sentiments?”
“You will recall my telling you that my aunt and I are not always of the same mind.”
“Then you do not find people who earn their living by trade to be wholly objectionable?”
“Not as a rule,” he replied. Darcy noticed a hint of skepticism in Elizabeth’s countenance. “Do you doubt me, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Do you know anyone who earns a living in trade?”
“A man in my position can hardly escape such associations.”
“I suppose what I mean to say is do you include anyone who earns a living in trade among your intimate circle?”
“One of my best friends is the beneficiary of his family’s fortune, which was earned in trade.”
“I imagine it must be a rather large fortune.”
“Indeed, it is quite considerable. What is your point?”
“My point is simple. You boast of having a friend—nay, a best friend—who happens to have inherited a fortune. I posit that were it not for said fortune, you and the gentleman would never have crossed paths.”
“As neither of us can really know that, I will not defend what may or may not have been.”
Just as it had been the day before, so it happened again that Elizabeth and Darcy, as involved in their own discourse as they were, did not notice that the colonel was quickly headed their way.
“We meet again,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, bowing before Elizabeth.
Darcy said, “I am accompanying Miss Bennet to the parsonage as I generally do during this time of day.”
Following in step with Darcy and Elizabeth, the colonel inquired, “Shall we make it a threesome?”
“Do we have a choice?” Darcy asked, his brow arched.
“Miss Bennet, what say you?”
“It sounds like a splendid idea to me, sir.”
“There, you see, Cousin. You are outnumbered two to one.” With that, the three of them continued on their way.
The colonel, as amiable as ever, commanded the greater share of the conversation, leaving Elizabeth with scant opportunity to do anything other than smile and nod at the appropriate times and poor Mr. Darcy to brood and say nothing while fiercely resisting the urge to tell his verbose cousin to go away.
After the gentlemen had accompanied Elizabeth to the parsonage gate, they headed back to Rosings. The colonel asked the question that had been uppermost in his mind all afternoon. “What on Earth are you doing, old fellow?”
Darcy’s countenance clouded. “In what respect?”
“If I did not know you better, I would say that you like Miss Bennet more than you dare let on. Whatever happened to the notion that she was not handsome enough to tempt you?”
“No doubt, my feelings have changed,” Darcy replied.
“Is the young lady aware of your change of heart—that you more than tolerate her presence?” Although Darcy had not officially apologized to Elizabeth for uttering those words, he had informed his cousin that the two of them had been overheard that evening at Rosings.
Darcy wondered if he ought to be open with his cousin and tell him about his heartfelt struggles where Miss Elizabeth Bennet was concerned. Deciding against it for now, he said, “I have done more than just give her the impression that I merely tolerate her.”
“How so, if you do not mind my asking?”
“If you must know, I have made it a habit to walk with her each day. She and I regularly engage in healthy discussions about our likes and dislikes. Other than reciting poetry verses to her, what more need I do?”
“You may very well engage in such discourse with Georgiana or me, for that matter. A young woman needs to be flattered for her accomplishments, her wit, and her charm in order for one to make a truly favorable impression on her heart.”
“It is not so simple as you suggest,” Darcy argued.
“A man in my position must be very guarded in his approach towards any young woman, especially one whose means are so decidedly beneath his own else he might give rise to expectations in the woman that upon closer examination he cannot uphold. As a second son, you would know nothing at all of what I speak.”
“I posit you should leave rank and privilege completely out of the equation where matters of the heart are concerned. If, on the other hand, you are merely trifling with Miss Bennet, it is far better you leave her alone.”
Darcy said nothing in response to his cousin’s admonishment. Leave Elizabeth alone. I could not do so even if I tried.
“Then, too, there is Anne,” the colonel said in view of his cousin’s silence.
“Anne?”
“I know you say you do not intend to marry her.”
“You say that as though you somehow doubt my intentions—as though such a thing was ever within the realm of possibility.”
“Is it not what our family expects? Was it not the favorite wish of your beloved mother, Lady Anne? Does Lady Catherine not cling to the notion of an alliance between you and her daughter?”
“I do not deny having heard it said for the greater part of my life. What does it mean to me? Whatever were the motives which drove them, my mother and her only sister did their parts in planning the union. Its execution depends on others entirely. I am my own master. I answer to no one.”
“That may very well be, but there is at least one other party whose feelings you ought to consider. I am confident you will agree.”
“I take it that you are speaking of Anne.”
“Have you told her that you have no intention of honoring our family’s wishes?”
Darcy shrugged. “Not in so many words. I have no reason to do so. Anne is not so sheltered and so na?ve as to be incapable of discerning my intentions.” He huffed. “Why are we having this discussion?”
“It all goes back to intentions, my friend, be it your intentions towards our cousin or your intentions towards Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”