Chapter 12
THE LAST MAN IN THE WORLD
Elizabeth now expected to encounter Mr. Darcy in the lanes.
As had always been the case, he often was content to walk in silence.
During those instances when he did speak, she had learned to ignore his cryptic talk of Rosings and future visits and the like.
As long as she maintained a respectable distance from him and held fast to her conviction not to look into his eyes, walking with him was almost like being alone.
To be able to enjoy such splendour as afforded by the beautiful lanes of Rosings without having to suffer the absurdity of its owner was something. Mr. Collins meant to change all that with the announcement of an invitation to dine at Rosings Park.
The few times she had been in her ladyship’s company had proved to be just as tiresome as that initial introduction.
Elizabeth’s determination that she would not go to dinner that evening was only matched by her cousin’s determination that she would.
After ten minutes of heated debate on the matter, the proud man turned to his wife. “I blame you for this misfortune!”
Charlotte coloured. She said nothing. Arguing with her husband was something she had learned not to do. He stalked over to the part of the room where Elizabeth sat.
“I knew it was a mistake to invite you here. Lady Catherine was not at all pleased by your insolence during your initial meeting, just as I foretold, nor have you proved yourself worthy of her regard since then. Nonetheless, she deigned to invite you to Rosings yet again, and you stand here in my home and refuse to follow my dictates to honour my noble patroness’s benevolence. ”
“Mr. Collins, Eliza is unwell,” Charlotte pleaded. “She complains of a headache.”
“That is utter nonsense, Mrs. Collins. How many times have you complained of headaches since we were married? When has a headache ever prevented you from doing your duty as a good wife?”
He glared at his cousin. “Miss Elizabeth, I insist you head to your room this minute and prepare for the evening. Never have Mrs. Collins and I ignored my noble patroness’s summons.
As long as you are a guest in my home and subject to my authority, you will abide by my edicts. Now, run along and be quick about it.”
Who does he think he is speaking to? Oh! What was I thinking in accepting Charlotte’s invitation? I could not tolerate my ridiculous cousin in Hertfordshire. What made me suppose I could countenance him in his own home?
“While it is true that as a guest in your home I ought to abide by your directives, Mr. Collins, I am not in the habit of subjugating my own opinions to the dictates of those whose sentiments are so adamantly opposed to my own.”
He was about to speak, but Elizabeth was not done. She held up her hand. “After some thought, I have decided it is best to end this arrangement as soon as can be. I shall, therefore, write to my father and request the necessary preparations be made for my return to Hertfordshire.”
“Eliza, please reconsider—”
“Quiet, Mrs. Collins! For once, I can say my cousin and I are wholeheartedly in agreement.” He looked at Elizabeth with disgust. “Come, Mrs. Collins. We shall leave this instant; else we might keep her ladyship waiting.” He marched out the door, but Charlotte stood still. Her face bore a weary expression.
“Mrs. Collins!”
Elizabeth went to Charlotte’s side and placed her hand on her friend’s arm. “Charlotte, we shall have an opportunity to speak in the morning. You must not fret over me and risk increasing his ire. I shall be perfectly well here on my own this evening.”
“Truly, Eliza?”
“Indeed.” The two friends embraced. Poor Charlotte. Her lot in life is worse than I ever supposed.
Later that evening, the sound of the doorbell roused Elizabeth.
Her spirits fluttered a little when she supposed Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had called late in the evening once before, had come to enquire after her.
However, the idea was soon banished, and her spirits were affected very differently when Mr. Darcy strode into the room.
He rushed to Elizabeth’s side as soon as the servant shuffled out of the room and closed the door. He sat directly beside her and behaved as though he might take her hand in his. “I came to see you because Mrs. Collins said you were unwell.”
A puzzling tingle waltzed across her shoulder and down her back.
Elizabeth immediately moved to a chair across the room, sat, and folded her hands in her lap.
“I am sorry I gave you cause for concern, sir. You need not have come, for I should hate to think I am keeping you away from your relatives.”
Darcy stood, walked over to the mantelpiece, and leaned against it. “I am here out of concern for your well-being. You were perfectly well when last I saw you this morning. At least, I supposed you were. Has something happened since then? Did I say or do anything to cause you distress?”
“No, Mr. Darcy.” I scarcely listen to a word you say.
“Are you certain?”
I am fairly certain you have little to say of any consequence. “Yes, Mr. Darcy. I am certain.”
“You would tell me were that the case, would you not?”
One only need speak to Mr. Collins, and apparently Lady Catherine, to know I have no compunction against speaking my mind. “Yes, Mr. Darcy.”
“I ask because, I value honesty. I insist there must be no secrets between us.”
Secrets between us? There he goes again, speaking in riddles. Elizabeth said nothing.
“Pardon my saying this, but as you do not look unwell, I can only suppose you are purposely avoiding Lady Catherine.”
Elizabeth drew a sharp breath. “Let us suppose you are correct, Mr. Darcy. Am I wrong to do so? I see no reason to purposely subject myself to her meddling and condescension. I am not my cousin!”
“Actually, Miss Elizabeth, I wanted you to dine with us this evening. I had planned a special surprise for you.”
“Mr. Darcy! Your aunt is insulting; she purposely gives offense. She—”
Darcy interrupted. “I assure you, she is no worse than many of the other grande dames of Society. How shall you ever expect to conduct yourself in my world when you refuse to make allowances for my aunt?”
Conduct myself in your world? “I beg your pardon, Mr. Darcy?”
Darcy looked as if he wanted to retract his words.
He did not. His voice determined, he said, “Miss Elizabeth. In vain, I have struggled. It will not do. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire you.” He swallowed hard.
“Believe me; falling in love with you is the last thing in the world I ever wished for myself.”
Elizabeth twisted her lips, which he must have interpreted as genuine concern.
“Do not misunderstand me. My objections to loving you have nothing at all to do with you, but rather your family. All this I have determined I would put aside, for I have decided that once we are married you need not ever associate with those people again.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. This he must have considered sufficient encouragement to argue the merits of his case.
“Elizabeth, think about it. It will be impossible for you to assume your life as Mrs. Darcy and maintain your ties to those people! Your mother, your three younger sisters, and your father, I suspect, are ill-qualified to recommend themselves amongst my circle.
“However, you will be expected to associate with the highest levels of Society, and what better time to hone your skills than with Lady Catherine over the next week or so. Admittedly, she is at times meddling and condescending. But I assure you, she means you no harm.”
Elizabeth had heard quite enough. She cleared her throat. “Mr. Darcy. I suppose you think you have bestowed on me some manner of compliment—although I fail to discern what it is.”
“I love you—most ardently. I am offering you my hand in marriage.”
Elizabeth’s heart, her lungs, her throat all constricted. She coloured. She stared. She said nothing.
“Miss Elizabeth—”
Any semblance of cordiality she had once suffered for this man had been extinguished by the manner of his declaration. “Mr. Darcy, in such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed; however unequally they may be returned.”
“Are you rejecting me?”
“I am, sir.”
“This is not to be borne.”
“Sir, there may have been a time when I would have expressed a sense of gratitude, but only for the briefest of moments. Truth be told, I once looked forward to meeting you. I thought surely the accounts from all who had the misfortune of making your acquaintance whilst in Hertfordshire were untrue. How could anyone who is revered as a landlord, a master, a friend, and a brother, engender such disdain from strangers? Even Mr. Wickham’s words, I refused to sway me completely. ”
“Wickham!”
“Yes, he told me that the reports against your character had not been exaggerated. He further described your dear aunt’s manner as dictatorial and insolent—her temperament as haughty and scornful!
What is more, he said you are just like her.
His words have proved truer than I dared ever suppose.
You are your aunt’s nephew in every possible way! ”
Elizabeth embarked upon a lengthy discourse, indicting Darcy for his many offences against Mr. Wickham and his ill-opinion of her family. Shaking his head, he looked at her with an expression of mingled incredulity and mortification.