Chapter 5 Somehow, Still Thursday
Somehow, Still Thursday
Darcy left the parsonage with a smile on his face, but by the time he arrived at Rosings, he had begun to worry.
Elizabeth’s words had been perplexing and even alarming.
She had believed Wickham. If that were true, what had she thought of him all along?
She had found him saying he loved her to be absurd.
That was an odd reaction, surely? Even if she were in her cups.
He entered the house and made his way upstairs, bypassing the drawing room where his aunt sat with her guests. He had much to think about, and he could not abide company at the moment.
He had been staring at the fire in his room for nearly an hour when Colonel Fitzwilliam came in.
“Where have you been, Darcy?”
“Hmm? Oh, I did not feel like company.”
“That I can easily believe. But I saw you striding across the lawn. Where were you off to?”
Darcy looked away from him.
“Checking on the welfare of a certain lady, perhaps?”
Darcy huffed.
“I saw Miss Bennet today.”
Darcy abruptly turned towards his cousin and Fitzwilliam manfully withheld a smirk.
“I’m afraid I quite upset her.”
“Really?” Darcy tried to appear less interested than he was, but he was burning with curiosity.
“It was unwittingly done. She mentioned a militia officer she knew by the name of Wickham, and, well, I had to warn her off him. She is a lovely girl, and I would hate to see her fall prey to the likes of him.”
“Did you tell her of Georgiana?” asked Darcy, alarmed.
“No, of course not! But I did tell her that he was not to be trusted with ladies or money, and especially when the two were in the same room.”
Darcy nodded. “How did she take it?”
Fitzwilliam grimaced, then laughed a little. “Not well, I’m afraid. She had swallowed his lies wholeheartedly. I think she was most angry with herself.”
“Yes, she does not like to feel a fool.”
Fitzwilliam looked at him shrewdly. “No, no one does. Anyroad, she is warned off him now.”
Darcy debated with himself a moment, then decided he should confess to his cousin. Fitzwilliam already suspected his affection for the lady, and she had said he should speak to his cousin.
“Fitz, I went to see Miss Elizabeth this evening.”
“Oh?”
“It was an interesting interview.”
“How so?”
“She had been very upset earlier and Mrs. Collins had given her tea with brandy in it—quite a bit I gathered.”
Fitzwilliam’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Is that why she did not come this evening?”
“I think she was too upset to come, but she was in her cups, or very nearly, when I spoke to her in the parsonage.”
Fitzwilliam could not restrain his shoulders from shaking with laughter. “Dare I ask what the lady is like while inebriated?”
Darcy glared at him. “No, you may not.”
“Oh, that is how the land lies, is it?”
“Quite.”
“Do you have an announcement to make?”
“Not as yet. Fitz,” Darcy stood and paced away, then returned and sat again. “Miss Elizabeth suggested I ask you about your conversation earlier. She said it would help me to understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Why she began laughing when I told her I loved her.”
Fitzwilliam’s eyes bulged comically. “She what?” He spluttered. “You told her you love her?”
Darcy sighed. “Please tell me of your conversation, then I shall tell you more.”
“Very well.” Fitzwilliam told Darcy of meeting Miss Elizabeth, their conversation, her tears and the way she berated herself, and how he offered his friendship should she ever need it. When he finished, they sat staring into the fire, sipping brandy, for some minutes until Darcy broke the silence.
“Well, that certainly explains her state of mind. She mentioned speaking to Mrs. Collins as well.”
“I imagine she told her friend when she returned. They are from the same neighborhood, after all.”
“Yes, they are.”
Darcy continued to stare at the fire, absently twisting his glass back and forth until Fitzwilliam wanted to throttle him.
“Is that all you are going to say? Good God, man! You said you told the lady you love her! You cannot stop there!”
Darcy sighed. “Very well. I had intended to propose. That was my purpose in going there this evening.”
Darcy did not notice Fitzwilliam’s shock at this statement.
“She was not prepared for visitors.”
“I should imagine not!”
“We spoke, and she apologized for laughing inappropriately and listening to Wickham, and she told me to speak to you.”
“Is that all? You were gone an hour! I cannot believe that is all that happened.”
Darcy colored. “It is all that I will tell you.”
Fitzwilliam’s eyebrows arched up and he leaned back in his chair. “I see. So how did you leave it with the lovely Miss Bennet?”
“I will meet her for a walk in the morning.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Will you make your proposals?”
“I had thought I would at first, but I am less certain now. She was completely surprised by my going there. She seemed…” he could not bring himself to say that at times she had seemed to be trying to get away from him, and how on reflection, that was incredibly disturbing.
“I had always thought that any woman I wished to marry would be happy to accept me.”
“Many would, I imagine.”
“I am not certain Miss Elizabeth is one of them.”
Fitzwilliam exhaled loudly. “No, I do not think she is. Though it would be damn imprudent of her. But she has done it before.”
“What?” Darcy’s eyes shot to his cousin’s.
“She turned down her cousin, Mr. Collins. That is why he married her friend. Did you not know? You were in the neighborhood at the time.”
“I heard something of it, but I thought she had put him off, or perhaps her father had.”
“No, it was apparently a big to-do. Her mother wished for the match and she refused his offer. Her father stood by her. Deuced awkward at home, I can imagine. Collins is to inherit her father’s estate.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Collins is a buffoon, and she would have been miserable with him. But she could have managed him if she had a mind to. Mrs. Collins is doing a fine job of that. If she was willing to turn him down for being a ridiculous man with good prospects, she might have refused you for being overly proud. It is unlikely, but she is young, and impetuous I think.”
“Yes, she is somewhat impetuous.” Darcy took a deep breath and ran his hand over his face. “Fitz, what should I do?”
“You have already spoken to the lady. Do you feel your honor is engaged?”
“Yes, though she may not remember it in the morning.”
“She may not. Do you wish for her not to? It could be your escape if she does not recall your words—or if she did not wish for them.”
“I know it is not the most prudent match, but I cannot imagine marrying anyone else.”
“I see. Then you have only one option.”
“What? Propose in the morning?”
“No! You must court her until you are certain she will say yes.”
Darcy nodded thoughtfully. “You know, I had not even wondered about her answer before this evening.” He stood and poked at the fire.
“I had thought only my mind needed to be decided. Once I had made peace with such an unequal match, she would be mine for the taking.” He stared at the flames absently.
“I had not given a thought to her wishes or desires, or even her heart. I am a poor suitor indeed.”
“It is not unusual that you would think a woman in her position would accept you. Most would. You are not so very uncommon. A trifle conceited perhaps…”
Darcy paid him little attention. “I have been sitting here this last hour thinking of what I would have said to her this evening. I would have spoken of my trouble in admitting my feelings, of how difficult it had been to come to the conclusion that the joy of having her as my wife was greater than the degradation of her connections and the objections of my family.”
“You did not actually say her family was a degradation, did you?” asked Fitzwilliam, a look of disbelief on his face.
“No, she began laughing before I could say more than a sentence.”
“Thank heaven for that! Good God, man, what were you thinking? You cannot tell a woman you love, in the middle of a proposal, that her family is a degradation and your relations will hate her, but it is all well and good because you are prepared to bear it for her sake!”
“What? I wanted her to know I had thought of the obstacles and was prepared to face them, for her.”
Fitzwilliam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Darcy, can you truly be this stupid?”
Darcy huffed and a look of indignation came over him. “I was paying her the compliment of honesty,” he said stiffly, his posture rigid and his jaw clenching.
“No, you were congratulating yourself and wounding the lady.”
Shock overspread Darcy’s features and Fitzwilliam gentled his tone.
“No one wishes to hear about their horrible connections. She knows it, you know it, but it is not necessary to discuss it, especially during a proposal. It is not the time.”
Darcy looked at him suspiciously.
Fitzwilliam continued. “You love Miss Bennet, do you not?”
Darcy nodded warily.
“How would you like it if she said she enjoyed your company, but your aunt is overbearing, officious and a public embarrassment, and your sister had behaved so badly the previous summer that if it were to become known she would be ruined forever. Therefore, she could not consider an alliance with you.”
Darcy’s hands were clenched and his face was red.
“Well? Tell me, Darcy. Is that something you wish to hear from your lady love?” Fitzwilliam could see Darcy’s nostrils flaring as the vein in his forehead protruded.
“Or would you prefer to hear her say she enjoys your company, and that she will be pleased to marry you, and you will avoid your troublesome relations together? Hmm?”
Darcy continued to seethe as his cousin stared at him, his gaze unwavering. “It is hardly the same, Fitz,” he finally bit out.