Chapter 2 Hunsford Happenings #3
“I thank you for taking up so much of your time to humour me in my walk around the park. Please accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”
He bowed and left her at the Y in the path, one path leading to the parsonage and the other to Rosings.
He continued down his own course, mind wholly engaged in dissecting his entire association with one Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
A relationship fraught with confusion, misunderstanding, and sentimentality.
The day defied sense. So did she. Whether or not he had dreamt his original proposal, she had given him fair warning that she would refuse him.
He did not wait for his cousin to return. He gained the stairs to his rooms and picked up the book next to his pillow.
The birds chirped outside. The spring had brought about a cacophony of birdsong which on any ordinary Easter trip to Rosings would have delighted Darcy, but this spring it was unwelcome. Darcy’s eyes popped open when he heard the honk of a gander below his window. He sat up immediately.
Hines entered, efficient and unruffled. “Lady Catherine has invited the Hunsford party to dinner, sir.”
“Again? They dined here last night.”
“I beg your pardon, sir. They did not come last night.”
Darcy rubbed his temples.
Hines raised an eyebrow. “I would remind you that Colonel Fitzwilliam’s brandy is a touch stronger than you are accustomed to, sir.”
Darcy groaned.
“Would you like the grey waistcoat or the blue? I need to mend the silver, but it could be done by this evening if you would prefer.”
Something niggled at Darcy. Had that question been asked before?
He let out a sigh. “Whatever would be easiest for you.” Darcy rubbed at the stubble on his chin.
“I would like to shave and dress as soon as possible. I should like to walk in the garden. I will have a tray in my room after I return. Do not tell my aunt or cousins that I have gone out. Tell them I have a headache—that will keep my aunt away.”
With a sense of purpose, Darcy stalked the gardens looking for Elizabeth.
He knew she would be here. She had been here every confounded morning.
Every morning was the same at Rosings, but since she had come here, nothing was the same.
The birds had all gone mad, and his aunt was as ridiculous as ever.
He was in love with Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, and he had chosen folly more than once in the last week.
He had proposed and been rejected—thrice.
It was not like him to lose—nor to be so thoroughly undone by a woman.
“It would grieve me exceedingly if it were thought that Rosings had been made the scene of hopes which, however natural, cannot be indulged.” Mr Collins droned on from behind a hedge, but in a tone of voice that was elevated to the point that anyone nearby might hear.
“Mr Darcy is not only above your station in birth, but also in manner. Her Ladyship would be deeply distressed to believe that imprudent expectations might unsettle the tranquillity of Rosings.”
Mr Darcy scoffed but did not intervene. Not when he could hear an unguarded Elizabeth speak about him.
“I am obliged to you, Cousin, for your concern, though I cannot accept your conclusions.” Elizabeth had a fascinating talent for making anyone at ease.
Despite Darcy’s immediate reminder of the rejection of her affections, he noticed the same skill to assess the prevailing humour of people in her company whilst at Meryton. It was a skill he knew he sorely lacked and one of the talents he admired greatly in Elizabeth.
“A young lady without fortune or connexion must be doubly vigilant, lest her conduct be misunderstood—” Mr Collins screamed.
Darcy spotted the tail of a gander sliding through the base of the hedge. The tell-tale hissing sound alerted Darcy to move quickly.
“Good morning, Mr Collins.”
“Mr Darcy, you must leave the area at once. There is a goose attacking anyone on the path!”
“Then you must inform the gamekeeper. My aunt looks down on animals not following her carefully considered edict to remain in their habitat.”
Elizabeth covered her mouth and let out the smallest cough, which Darcy highly suspected hid any amusement at Collins’ discomfort.
With no little agitation, Mr Collins looked between Darcy and the gander, who had now added honking and snaking his neck whilst flapping his wings, puffing up, and walking around the parson.
“At once, Mr Collins! I shall escort Miss Bennet back to the parsonage.”
Mr Collins darted down the path, the goose in hot pursuit.
“Mr Darcy, I had not taken you for such a fearless defender of Rosings,” said Elizabeth, her handkerchief to her mouth, hiding her dazzling smile. God, but he loved that smile.
“Allow me to accompany you.”
“Lead on, sir.”
The walk back to Hunsford was uneventful, but for the first time, Mr Darcy was not summarily insulted by a rejection of his proposal.
Perhaps waiting and watching was the proper course with Elizabeth.
She did not trust him, but perhaps that could change—he could spend an eternity at her side until he learned enough about her that she would never again reject his proposal.
He returned to Rosings and spent the day with his cousin. When it came time to change for dinner, he did so nervously. What would he talk to Elizabeth about this evening? If she did not want him to propose again, he was not sure if seeing her was the right course of action.
As he dressed for dinner, Hines carried his silver waistcoat over his forearm. “Despite my best efforts with your waistcoat, the Hunsford party has unfortunately cancelled their attendance at dinner. Something to do with Lady Catherine having a meeting with her gamekeeper and grounds people.”
“Ah, yes. I may need to meet with the steward to soothe his pride. If dinner is to be en famille, I would rather not go down.”
He picked up a book from the shelf and turned to the first page: It is a truth universally acknowledged that trouble always comes in threes.
Darcy snorted in amusement. “Tell Lady Catherine and Richard I will have a tray in my rooms. I’m not hungry.”
He waved off his man and flipped the book over to read the title. Rich Man, Poor Man, Beggar Man by Suzannah Addison. He slammed the book on the table. “Absolutely not.” But after a moment, curiosity won out, and he opened the book again.