Chapter 17
Darcy was well on the road to London before he could completely disregard his cousin’s odd behaviour.
Never before had she accompanied his cousin Richard and him to their carriage when they took their leave of Rosings Park.
Her ominous last words, spoken for his ears alone caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand.
Applying a bit of pressure to his proffered hand, her hushed tone prompted him to lean in closer, “This is not over until I say it is over.”
Nearer to town, haunting thoughts of Anne were pushed aside by thoughts of the two people he had learnt to care about, uppermost in his mind.
The two people he had left behind. Will I ever see them again?
If ever again, should Elizabeth choose to go ahead with the marriage, will I even recognise her, or will she have lost her spirit and liveliness pursuant to her marriage to Geoffrey Collins?
Darcy endeavoured to shake off such thoughts.
He picked up his neglected book and tried to recall where he had left off in the text.
I must not think like that. Surely, she will not yield to the man’s strong rule.
In spite of himself, Darcy recalled some of his most heated exchanges with Elizabeth, where he might have made mistakes, and what he might do differently, if given a chance.
He persuaded himself he had done the right thing by her in leaving Kent.
She needs to see for herself how her life would be, how Ben’s life would be.
I have faith in her judgement. Even if she is not in love with me, even if she feels duty bound, a sensible, lively, and passionate woman such as she, will not settle for a life of submissiveness.
The manner in which she railed against any act of officiousness on my part is proof enough of that. It is but one of the less than amiable qualities that particular gentleman possesses in spades. He gives the term officiousness an entirely new meaning.
In the ensuing weeks, the Hunsford party fell into a rather comfortable, though sometimes awkward routine. Regular invitations to Rosings resumed as Lady Catherine sought to overcome the sense of loneliness brought on by her nephews’ departure.
It was a beautiful day for a picnic and in keeping with her promise to the girls the day before, that is just what Elizabeth and the girls set out to do.
They found a lovely spot that offered a splendid view of Rosings Park.
After an hour or so, their delightful party of three was interrupted by the addition of a fourth, Mr. Collins.
The girls were eager for the chance to spend time with their father, especially in their future stepmother’s company, for he displayed signs of light heartedness and gaiety theretofore not attributable to him.
After a moment or two, he glanced about to survey the environs. “Where is Ben?”
“He was eager to go out after breakfast,” responded Elizabeth. “I reminded him he was not to venture too far,” she quickly added, reminded of his earlier rebukes against Ben’s wont of scampering about on his own.
“I shall look for him, then. I thought we might take a ride in the country this afternoon,” Collins replied, before rising to his feet.
Ben was off planning a surprise. He had often recalled old tales of lore as recounted to him by his mother, who as a child likely heard it from her own mother, who heard it from her mother, no doubt altered in translation through the generations; tales of princes, and princesses, and far-away kingdoms and the like.
His soon-to-be sisters, rather stepsisters, as he was always known to voice aloud, were the closest approximation of princesses he could imagine.
What with the way they sat around at leisure, wasting away the day in one frivolous pursuit or another, having tea, fussing over each other’s hair, dressing up, and staring into looking glasses.
The only time they even deigned to allow him in their court was when they needed a jester or a servant, or so it seemed to him.
Imagine Sir Lancelot standing attendance to two haughty princesses, when there were wars to be waged and fierce battles to be won.
On the other hand, two haughty princesses were far better companions than the loneliness that beset him in the wake of King Arthur’s leave-taking.
“Princess Gillian, Princess Emily!” he shouted eagerly as he joined them on their outing.
Ben had blessed them with that regal appellation as a means of teasing them.
Alas, addressing them so had become the only way they would recognise his presence.
“I have a wonderful surprise for the two of you! Come see what it is.”
The girls had no doubt he had something for them. The excited look reflected on his face was proof enough of that. In addition, he had both hands tucked behind his back. The glances that passed between them were confirmation of their opinion of the status of the youngest as compared to their own.
Gillian, the older of the two by at least thirty minutes commanded, “If you have come bearing gifts, then you must step forward and produce them.” Emily confirmed her sister’s decree with a slight nod of her head.
“Very well, ma’ ladies,” Ben humbly replied as he approached. Without further ado, he removed his hands from behind his back and brought his offerings forth. “Your princes have arrived!”
The girls let out two deafening screams, surprising Ben as much as he had surprised them. How could they not be pleased with his gifts? It had taken him most of the morning to capture the two toads!
Elizabeth, it seemed, was the least surprised. Masking her amusement as best she could muster, she managed to say, “Ben!” only to be interrupted by the ferociousness of Geoffrey Collins’s voice.
Appearing from nowhere, he grabbed young Ben by his upper arm forcefully.
Ben broke away from the man’s grip and backed away, stumbling over in the process, shock clearly registering on his young face.
Before Ben could right himself, Collins reached for him again.
He took him by the shoulder and positioned him before the girls, who by then were just as confused as young Ben, any thoughts of a possible catalyst for the scene that occurred before them, completely erased.
“Apologise to the girls this instant for your unseemly behaviour and promise not to upset them with such foul things as this again.”
“No! I will do no such thing!” Ben insisted. “There is no harm done!”
Collins took hold of Ben’s wrists and scolded him. “Return to your room at once, where you are to remain until I arrive and attend to your punishment! You will learn to conduct yourself as a civilised young man who gets along with his sisters and not some wild savage who torments them!”
Cowered by the man’s fury, Ben broke free and ran towards the parsonage-house. Elizabeth was appalled. She made no pretence to hide her own anger. She stood to race after her son to offer him solace.
“Stay where you are!” Collins ordered. “You must learn to stop coddling him as though he were a helpless infant. He is a mischievous young boy badly in need of a strong hand!”
Elizabeth looked at Mr. Collins as though he had taken leave of his senses.
As irate as she was, she spoke not a word, even as she completely disregarded his admonishment.
Rather she considered that this was not the time, not in front of the girls.
However, rest assured she would make her way of thinking known.
First things first, she raced after Ben to nurse his bruised feelings.
A day filled with tension eventually neared its close when everyone else retired, and it was just Elizabeth and Geoffrey Collins who remained downstairs.
That evening, Elizabeth was as eager as was he for the moment to arrive, when it was just the two of them, alone.
Elizabeth was set upon firmly taking Mr. Collins to task for mistreating her son as he had.
Discipline was one thing, but it was hardly an excuse for his being stern, severe, harsh, and rude.
True, she was reared in a house full of females as he was so apt to point out, but she knew enough to know boys will be boys.
She had hardly spoken a civil word to him the entire day, and yet it was as though he was wholly oblivious to the fact that she was furious with him.
Just another example of how he views the world.
The man, the woman, the child—everyone has his or her place, she considered.
Collins sat close to her on the sofa with his arms resting atop its edge. “I look forward to our evenings together, which makes what I have to say all the more difficult.”
“Pardon me, Mr. Collins, I too have a matter which I can hardly wait to discuss with you.”
“If you will allow me, Elizabeth, to express that which is uppermost in my mind first, I am certain it will put to rest any concerns you may have.
“I am most eager to make you my wife, to share your passion. You and I have made such progress over the past two weeks. I am convinced we should not wait any longer.” Collins moved nearer to reduce any distance between them.
“I know it will be some time before the marriage will take place, but the sooner we make it publicly known, the sooner we will be united.
I plan to return to my home to have the Banns read, for it is there, in my own parish that I intend for us to wed.