Chapter Nineteen #2
“More or less,” Miss Elizabeth replied. “She did first apologize on behalf of her sister.”
Darcy cocked his head. “An apology followed by a threat?”
“Well, I did not say the apology was sincere,” she chuckled. “And to be fair, it was more of a warning than a threat.”
“Well, it seems I have more to thank you for than removing Miss Bingley from this house.”
Her lips formed a perfect rosy bow. “That would be… ?”
“Should everything go as I plan, Miss Elizabeth, you will soon be my nearest connection. As Miss Bingley has refused to acknowledge you, she will not be acknowledged by me.” He shook his head.
“I admit to taking pleasure in knowing that because Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley were not kinder, they will also not gain an introduction to the Duke of Bedford.”
Elizabeth secured her cloak and then made certain Jane’s was wrapped closely about her. She lifted the hood even over Jane’s bonnet.
“Stop it, Lizzy,” Jane said, slapping at her sister’s hands. “You would roll me up in a rug if you could.” She removed a handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed at her nose daintily.
Elizabeth tugged the hood into place. “That is a wonderful idea.” She placed her hands on her hips and sent a penetrating look around the hall. “Perhaps Mrs. Nicholls will bring me one.”
“Lizzzzyyy,” Jane groaned, but Elizabeth just laughed.
“Come,” she said, “The carriage is ready.” She wound her arm around Jane’s waist and walked with her to Mr. Bingley’s fine conveyance.
She stood back, then, and allowed Mr. Bingley to assist Jane inside.
Mr. Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand to help her up the steps.
There was a tingling in Elizabeth’s fingers where he touched them, even through her gloves, and she ducked her head so he would not see her blush.
She had never blushed so much in her entire life as she had at Netherfield. It was most aggravating.
Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley sat on the rear-facing seat, a basket of food from Mrs. Thistlewaite, a gift to the Bennets, on the bench between them. Elizabeth watched the scenery moving past the windows at a swift pace before she turned back to the man sitting opposite her.
“I hope you intend to stay much of the day, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth ventured. “I am afraid there is a great deal to discuss.”
Mr. Darcy inclined his head. “I am at your service, madam.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth replied, glancing at her sister. “That is quite a noble offer, Jane. Whatever shall I do with it?”
“I think you had better not teach Mr. Darcy to tease, Lizzy,” was the calm response. “He may turn out to be better at it than you.”
“Blasphemy!” Elizabeth exclaimed, her face lighting up in anticipation of a witty conversation.
Mr. Bingley was watching them all with pleasure. “No, Miss Bennet,” he said to Jane, “I am afraid Darcy is quite a staid, dull fellow, for all his cleverness. I suspect your sister simply enjoys the challenge.”
Darcy shot Bingley a look that had both Bennet women giggling, when suddenly the carriage pitched to one side and came to an abrupt stop.
Darcy was tossed against the side of the coach, then pressed into the wall behind him. Miss Elizabeth was thrown from her seat. He made a tremendous effort to shove himself forward and was just able to catch her before she hit the floor.
She was in his arms, warm and soft… he could smell jasmine in her hair.
“Are you well?” he asked hurriedly, helping her to her feet and then back to the bench. She nodded, and though she was pale, she quickly turned to tend her sister. Bingley had reacted in time to protect his own Miss Bennet. Both appeared uninjured.
There was shouting outside. Bingley settled Miss Bennet, earning a grateful smile from Miss Elizabeth, and swung out of the carriage. Darcy followed.
“What happened, Smith?” Bingley demanded.
The young driver stood from a crouch. He had begun checking the horses, running a gentle hand along each knee down past the fetlocks.
He turned to scowl at a tall, heavy-looking young man standing in the center of the road who wore a wide smile and a broad-brimmed black hat.
He swept the hat from his head and bowed.
Smith was quietly furious. “He ran at the carriage, sir, waving his arms. Nearly got himself run down.”
Darcy let out a breath. Not only could this addle-pate have gotten himself killed, he might easily have caused the horses to bolt and upset the carriage.
Before either Bingley or Darcy could express their indignation, the man began to talk—and did not stop.
“Do I have the honor of speaking with Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy?” the man asked, performing another exceptionally deep bow.
When he rose and scuttled closer to them, still speaking effusively, Darcy smelled something that reminded him of his Aunt Catherine.
Elderberry? The scent made him grimace, and he took a step back.
He judged the man to be in his mid-twenties, tall and heavy.
Judging from his speech, he was also of mean understanding.
Could he have suffered a blow to the head?
Finally, he came to his purpose. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, sirs. I am Mr. Collins.” He bowed a third time.
Darcy sniffed cautiously. Definitely elderberry.
It was not a scent that was pleasant on his aunt; it had no place at all on a man.
He glanced at Bingley, who appeared simultaneously fascinated at the spectacle and horrified to be the object of it.
“I took the liberty of hailing your illustrious carriage, sirs, because I have it on good authority that my eldest cousins were at Netherfield.”
Darcy looked at Bingley, and his friend mouthed “hailing?” Darcy was more concerned about the word “cousins.”
Mr. Collins droned on. “I was on my way to meet them and begin to offer my most humble attentions with the permission of their most gracious mother and father, who assure me they are truly lovely in both person and spirit… em… May I assume that Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth are with you?”
Bingley grimaced, but opened his mouth to respond. Apparently, Collins could not wait long enough to hear the answer to his question.
“Or perhaps they are still at Netherfield? Mrs. Bennet was certain they would remain until Tuesday, because that would be an entire week, you know, but Mr. Bennet seemed just as sure they would return home no later than after church on the morrow. I left my own parish, you see, to come meet my lovely cousins, for I now have the living at Hunsford, a good living, and I am to inherit, but of course, time is of the essence. I cannot be gone from Hunsford for long, as I have no curate. Two services at most. My esteemed patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh has said it should be possible to select a… urm… bride in that amount of time.”
Bingley blinked. “You mean to select a bride from among the Bennet daughters?”
“Yes, yes, indeed. For my most revered patroness suggests that with the entail…” He put his hand to his mouth before blurting out, “Mr. Darcy, sir, are you Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, nephew of my patroness?”
“Stop speaking, Mr. Collins,” Darcy ordered.
He rubbed his forehead. The man’s stupidity was dizzying.
“I am.” He had to get rid of this parasite until he and Bingley had been able to speak with Mr. Bennet.
He had no intention of allowing the man to ride back with them, shoved between he and Bingley, or worse, trying to sit next to Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth.
Richard, he thought. Richard owes me. Faces at dinner, walking off with Elizabeth. Besides, he is good at this sort of thing. He gave Bingley a look that his friend read perfectly.
“You should carry on to Netherfield, Mr. Collins,” Bingley said cheerfully. “We shall see you again before the day is out, I am sure.”
Not a single falsehood. Darcy approved. He moved to the back of the carriage and motioned to one of the boys riding there.
He whispered in the boy’s ear and sent him running with a message for his cousin.
Bingley walked Mr. Collins several feet past the carriage, keeping himself always between the carriage and the pastor until he bade the man good morning.
He met Darcy’s eye as they both reentered the carriage.
“Well done, Bingley,” he grunted. “I sent a runner ahead with a message for Fitzwilliam. He will keep Mr. Collins distracted for a few hours.”
Bingley laughed as he sat down. “How do you know he will not put the man on a horse and personally deliver him to Longbourn’s front door?”
“First, because that man would likely fall off a horse,” Darcy replied, straight-faced. “And second, because I promised him a bottle of the cognac my father bought before the war.”
“Good man,” Bingley said cheerfully.
“Is everything all right?” Miss Bennet asked. She was clutching her cloak tightly around her, and Miss Elizabeth was worrying the fingers of her glove.
“Everything is fine, ladies,” Bingley said with a gentle smile. “Shall we proceed?”
There was a great deal of fluttering and noise as the foursome made their way into Longbourn. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley left immediately in search of Mr. Bennet, while Jane and Elizabeth removed their cloaks and bonnets.
“Why are you home, Elizabeth?” Mrs. Bennet grabbed her daughter’s arm and hissed in her ear.
“You should have kept Jane there for at least a week. Mr. Bingley would have undoubtedly proposed by then.” Elizabeth forced herself not to look at where the men had gone.
Had Mama not noticed, or did she assume they were only after a game of chess?
“The Hursts and Miss Bingley left Netherfield this morning, Mama,” Elizabeth whispered back. “We could not remain.”
Mrs. Bennet released her hold, but asked, “Why did they leave?”
“It is not my business to ask, Mama,” she replied. Nor is it yours. “Let Jane and I refresh ourselves and we will meet you in the front drawing room. Jane will wish to rest later.”