Chapter Seven
“This would be nothing if you really liked him.”
AS THE CARRIAGE ROLLED TOWARDS THE INEVITABLE, DARCY HID behind the newsprint while his cousin snoozed in the seat across from him.
His eyes rested on the paper he held, but none of the words penetrated his brain.
In the next few days, he would encounter Miss Elizabeth Bennet again.
He had focused all his energies into forgetting her.
He had survived the turmoil, chastising himself repeatedly for having lost control when she confronted him during their Netherfield dance.
He repeatedly questioned himself: Why had he allowed Miss Elizabeth to speak to him thusly?
Why had he permitted her to possess his every thought?
Why had he questioned who he was and what he valued?
More importantly, why had he considered making her a part of his life?
Yes, there was a physical attraction, but should he place aside his principles and his values?
Without a doubt, he could have her. Darcy had never met a woman he could not have, but his considering making the lady the mistress of Pemberley was pure hogwash.
It was all very peculiar—this hold she had on him.
Darcy had often visualized Elizabeth at Pemberley—the two of them together—Elizabeth and Georgiana; the images were always so clear!
Yet, he had never imagined making her his wife.
That was the step in the equation he could not quite decipher.
He instinctively knew Elizabeth belonged at Pemberley; she, naturally, fit into his plan for the estate, but marriage to her could not be reconciled in his thoughts.
It was not as if Darcy would ever dishonor her.
He would not make her his mistress; he did not think of her that way.
His thoughts of her were always honorable.
He just could not accept actually professing his feelings and making a proposal.
He could not marry her! Honoring the Darcy name would never permit him to do so.
The splendid colors which adorned Lady Catherine’s estate were lost on him.
Staring out the carriage’s window, all he saw was a pair of thickly lashed bright green eyes, sparkling in his imagination.
His cousin, being finally aroused from his journey’s boredom, had set a watch for Mr. Collins.
“I understand,” Edward laughed, “from our aunt that Collins’s book room fronts the road.
The chap dutifully watches for the carriages to come along.
I hope he is watching for our arrival. I am confident our aunt apprised him of our visit.
Look, Darcy, is that he? Collins is waving frantically. Wave, Darcy!”
“I do not believe waving at our aunt’s clergyman is in order,” Darcy grumbled.
“You are an odd one,” Fitzwilliam declared as he waved at Collins. “Does nothing amuse you?”
Darcy ignored the question. Instead, he sucked in slow, deep breaths and prepared for … for what he did not know, but he knew preparation would be necessary if Elizabeth Bennet were involved.
Within minutes their coach rolled to a halt.
“Darcy. Edward. At last you have arrived,” Lady Catherine intoned regally as they entered the drawing room.
“Anne and I both expected you hours ago. Her health would not permit her to wait longer. She has gone above to rest. You will renew your relationship at dinner.”
“We apologize, Aunt,” Darcy bowed to his mother’s elder sister. “The roads were affected by last week’s weather.”
“We are most joyous at seeing you, Lady Catherine,” the colonel added quickly. “I will be pleased if Anne feels well enough to join us this evening; it has been too long since we have seen her.”
“Pardon our road dirt, Lady Catherine,” Darcy interrupted. “We will freshen our clothing and join you shortly for tea.”
As the two gentlemen left the blue salon, Darcy gave his cousin a wary glance. “What?” Edward queried.
“We look forward to seeing Anne?” Darcy mimicked. “Why do you not just pronounce the vows while you are about it?”
“Do you suppose Lady Catherine still expects a marriage proposal?” Edward teased.
“She has,” Darcy moaned, “thought of nothing else since Anne and I were children. My father took up the practice of allaying her ‘hopes,’ but with his death, I have no protection, it seems.” He shot his cousin a frustrated glance.
Edward spoke a bit too enthusiastically. “You do not wish to marry our cousin?”
“If I were to take a wife I did not love, I would want a woman whose health might withstand childbirth. An heir for Pemberley has to be one of my concerns,” Darcy said matter-of-factly.
“Anne is suppressed by our aunt. She has good manners and a hefty fortune. Her attributes are many,” Edward cautioned.
Darcy could not believe Edward would present Anne as a reasonable proposition.
When had Edward taken up Lady Catherine’s cause?
“Anne is tolerable, but her wealth and station will not tempt me to favor her when she has been previously …” Darcy froze with the realization he had recently said something very similar about Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
He had changed his mind about Elizabeth’s charms. Could Anne possess charms of which he was unaware?
He shook his head and said, “Never mind,” and then excused himself quickly to his chambers.
The first evening at Rosings had passed slowly.
Lady Catherine required undivided attention.
Although it vexed him most wholly to do so, Darcy had applied to her vanity.
His cousin Anne barely managed a greeting.
The least effort appeared to drain her of her energies.
Yet, Darcy noted she was a bit more animated when Edward plied her with humorous anecdotes of his military service.
She smiled at Edward briefly for a fraction of a second.
Although the effort softened his opinion, all Darcy could see was the futility of a match with his cousin.
Even if affection were not a prerequisite for his marriage, Anne could not oversee Pemberley. The task would be too daunting for her.
On the morning after Darcy’s arrival at Rosings, Mr. Collins called upon the gentlemen, and as Lady Catherine had visited her tenants, Collins fawned and preened before Darcy and his cousin.
The colonel found the man’s obvious insincerity amusing.
Attempting to sound nonchalant, when, in reality, his heart raced with anticipation, Darcy asked, “Do you return to the Parsonage?”
“Indeed, sir, I do.”
“Then may my cousin and I join you? I would give my congratulations to Mrs. Collins, and the colonel here has yet to take the acquaintance of either your wife or your cousin.”
Collins was beside himself with self-importance.
“You do my household a great honor, sir. We would deem it our pleasure to share our humble abode with two gentlemen of such consequence. We do have one other visiting with us. My wife’s younger sister Miss Maria is also a member of our party.
She and Miss Elizabeth traveled to Kent along with Sir William, but Sir William has already returned to Hertfordshire. ”
“Then it is settled,” Darcy retrieved his gloves from a nearby table, while ignoring the mention of Mrs. Collins’s family. “Come, Colonel, we are to Hunsford to pay our respects.”
Without turning his head, Darcy felt the total disbelief that colored his cousin’s countenance.
Edward’s disbelief rattled in Darcy’s head.
Never had he considered it necessary to pay his respects to anyone of such asinine tastes as were Mr. Collins’s.
He might have shown disdain, but respect was a feeling for another day.
Darcy understood. He could not believe what he was doing.
What in the world was he thinking to place himself within Miss Elizabeth’s presence again?
He should concoct an excuse to extricate himself from this impetuous act, but when his cousin said, “Yes, I anticipate the pleasure of the acquaintance,” Darcy knew he must see it through.
With both expectancy and dread, Darcy followed Collins to Hunsford Cottage—to the dubious pleasure of being in the same room as Elizabeth Bennet again.
Within minutes, the doorbell announced the three gentlemen.
Collins led the way into the room, followed closely by Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Darcy came last. He schooled his gaze not to look directly at Elizabeth as he entered the room, but it was not an easy task.
First, he offered compliments to Mrs. Collins, and then, with an appearance of composure which belied his actual thoughts, he likewise did the same to Elizabeth.
It had been so long since he had beheld the beauty of her imperfect features that for a moment all he could do was stare.
Their eyes locked, and he noted the usual flash of curiosity, but Elizabeth merely curtsied to him without offering a word of greeting.
Edward declared, “Mrs. Collins. Miss Bennet. Miss Lucas. It is with great pleasure we finally meet. My cousin has spoken most fondly of his time in Hertfordshire. It is pleasant to put faces to some of his stories.”
“Did he now?” Elizabeth began, and Darcy anticipated more, but her friend’s grasp on Elizabeth’s arm stifled what Darcy hoped would be her first words directed to him.
Edward permitted the tone of her brief remark to pass. “Yes, indeed,” he added quickly. “Mrs. Collins, your improvements to the Parsonage are duly noted. I have never seen it look so well. Do you not agree, Darcy?” he prompted.
“Yes … yes, Mrs. Collins, the place has taken on a new life,” he stammered.
“It is as if I am seeing it for the first time.” Darcy could not recall ever having called upon the Parsonage previously.
He felt so foolish. Could he not hold a conversation in the woman’s presence without guarding his every word and thought?