The Parlour
Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manners were very much admired at the Parsonage, and at least some of the ladies felt that he must add considerably to the pleasures of their engagements at Rosings.
It was some days, however, before they received any invitation thither—for while there were visitors in the house, they could not be necessary; and it was not till Easter-day, almost a week after the gentlemen’s arrival, that they were honoured by such an attention, and then they were merely asked on leaving church to come there in the evening.
For the last week they had seen very little of Lady Catherine or her daughter.
Colonel Fitzwilliam had called at the Parsonage more than once during the time, but Mr Darcy they had seen only at church.
Naturally, none of that applied to Elizabeth, who stumbled on the man nearly every day quite by chance.
They were both nervous, and both found conversation more of a burden than it should be because there seemed an embargo on several subjects.
Neither thought they could be deferred forever, but for the first week, they were satisfied with pretending he had not been such a lackwitted clodpole in Meryton and she not quite so na?ve and vindictive.
After the slight awkwardness of his apology on their first encounter, things became easier.
For her part, Elizabeth was happy to speak of her life at Longbourn, her family, her relations in London, and even the Collinses' situation. She even one day rather gaily told him about her cousin’s ridiculous proposal but was slightly confused when he looked poleaxed.
She tried very hard not to speculate about any reason he might have for being so affected and was even more careful not to ask too many questions nor draw any inferences.
For his part, he happily told her about his sister, Pemberley, his house in town, his friends, and his business.
For obvious reasons, he avoided discussing the previous summer.
He knew he might have to reveal it eventually, but their present accord seemed too fragile to be tested with anything worse than the knowledge that he could well have found her in the parsonage as Mrs Collins, rather than as an avenging angel delivering Miss Bingley’s letter; while she may well have found him a shadow of a man who had lost his sister to carelessness.
Both felt that their friendship was tentative but possibly on a better footing, which seemed as good as one could hope given their history.
The invitation to dine at Rosings was accepted of course, and at a proper hour they joined the party in Lady Catherine’s drawing-room.
Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them; anything was a welcome relief to him at Rosings; and Mrs Collins’s pretty friend had moreover caught his fancy very much.
He now seated himself by her, and talked so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at home, of new books and music, that Elizabeth had never been half so well entertained in that room before; and they conversed with so much spirit and flow, as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine herself, as well as of Mr Darcy.
She wondered slightly if Mr Darcy disapproved of her conversation with his cousin, but she could see no sign of anything except curiosity.
She found herself far more energetic in the conversation with the colonel than the man really warranted, mostly because he received only half her attention and keeping a voluble person talking was the easiest way to pass the time.
She gave Mr Darcy a small smile that he acknowledged after ascertaining that Lady Catherine was unaware of his doing anything so outlandish in her parlour.
There followed a rather ridiculous discussion about music, wherein Lady Catherine asserted the potential superiority of hers and her daughter’s supposed taste, although the supposed surfeit of talent and taste had yet to produce a sound.
Mr Darcy acquiesced, asserting that Miss Darcy practiced most faithfully, subtly implying she followed Lady Catherine’s instruction; when in fact Elizabeth suspected that if Miss Darcy were even aware of her aunt’s advice, she would act directly contrary merely to spite her.
The dinner was as loud as those with Sir William, but with Mr Darcy and the colonel, the conversation could at least occasionally be turned to something other than Lady Catherine’s droning.
When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of having promised to play to him; and she sat down directly to the instrument.
He drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then talked, as before, to her other nephew; till the latter walked away from her, and making with his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer’s countenance.
Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first convenient pause, turned to him with an arch smile, and said: "You mean to frighten me, Mr Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me?
I will not be alarmed though your sister does play so well.
There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others.
My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me. "
"I shall not say you are mistaken," he replied, "because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not your own."
She laughed gaily and gave him a playful glance, though she was not entirely convinced she did not blush in the process.
The colonel tried his best to extract some on dits about his cousin’s behaviour in Hertfordshire. While there had been a time she would have spoken freely, she was no longer willing. She considered her reply and finally answered the colonel without ceasing to play.
“I first met your cousin at an assembly that his friend dragged him to the same day he arrived. You know how those things are. Teeeen thoooouuuusand a year and perhaps more, half of Derbyshire, and more of the same within five minutes of his entry. The poor man stood up for only four dances, and while none of the ladies who lacked partners—including me—were enamoured with his dereliction of duty, I came to understand it much later.”
Darcy looked quite thoughtful, since only he and Elizabeth knew she was leaving out a great deal that would have completely changed the story, but he simply watched silently as his cousin continued his interrogation.
“Understand what? Pray enlighten me!” the colonel asked in a jovial and teasing tone that she suspected had been employed against Mr Darcy his whole life that he probably enjoyed ordinarily.
For her part, she did not care for it, which was odd, since she was a practitioner of the teasing arts herself. She reflected on the matter and glanced at Darcy to discern if he wanted to reply. When he shook his head, she determined to speak plainly.
“I think your cousin is ill-qualified to recommend himself to strangers. I cannot say whether he suffers from shyness, awkwardness, indolence—or simply being weary of rediscovering that in every single room he enters, someone wants something from him—but of course, that is mere speculation. I could easily be wrong. Mr Darcy and I have misunderstood each other more often than the converse.”
She looked about to see that she had managed to silence the colonel, to her satisfaction, and rendered Mr Darcy pensive.
Her eyes widened as Lady Catherine approached and Darcy took the hint.
He leaned down to whisper, “You understand me perfectly, which makes you the very first,” then he bowed, and returned to intercept his aunt before she approached to criticise Elizabeth’s playing.
The colonel looked thoughtful but refrained from commenting on her observation. They returned to lighter subjects while she played the remainder of the evening.
The colonel handed Maria into the coach while Mr Darcy did the honours for Elizabeth. Lady Catherine frowned slightly at the courtesy, but it would have been rude for the gentlemen not to, so she had no cause to complain.
Upon the whole, it was quite an interesting evening, and she anticipated what Mr Darcy might say about it privately.