Chapter 12 #4
“It is not your fault—do not blame yourself. Mr. Collins would have had to learn sooner or later that his wife is not chattel.”
Elizabeth looked down, chewing the inside of her lip. “That is not all they are quarreling over.”
“Oh?”
She looked up at him, eyes filled with worry and a tiny bit of mischief. She took a deep breath and said, “Charlotte finally told him why you are escorting us to Town.”
“I see.” He straightened and his expression became harder.
“He insists that you are engaged to Miss de Bourgh, and that we must be mistaken, or that you have been allured by my wiles.”
He looked back down at her at that and one side of his mouth quirked up. “Well, that part is true. You have bewitched me utterly. I don’t know how you’ve done it. Perhaps it is witchcraft.”
She smacked his arm playfully. “Oh do be serious, Fitzwilliam!”
Darcy laughed. “Very well. I will speak with Mr. Collins.”
“Will you? I would greatly appreciate it.”
He kissed her hand again. “Of course, my love. It is not right to allow Mrs. Collins to bear the consequences of my actions.”
“Well, that is painting it a bit dark, but I agree she should not be left on her own to face Mr. Collins’s displeasure when it is we who have so disappointed him.”
“Quite.” He led her back to the front door and into the parsonage.
Mr. Collins’s voice was quieter now, but he and Charlotte were still very clearly arguing in the front parlor. The maid hovered at the back of the hallway with a tea tray, looking terrified.
“Allow me,” said Darcy as he took the tray from the girl.
She scampered off to the kitchen and Elizabeth rewarded him with a proud smile. Then she took a deep breath, rapped on the parlor door, and pushed it open.
“We’ve brought tea,” she said brightly.
Darcy followed her in and set the tray on the table before the sofa.
“Mr. Darcy!” spluttered Mr. Collins, thoroughly shocked.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” said Charlotte calmly. “Do be seated.”
She gestured to the sofa and Darcy sat next to Elizabeth, quickly taking her hand in his and settling it on his knee. She looked at him with surprise, but he merely gave her a look that let her know he knew what he was doing and turned to face their hosts.
“Mr. Collins, I understand there seems to be some sort of trouble.”
Mr. Collins was staring at Darcy with his mouth agape, his eyes moving from Darcy’s face to the hand that held Elizabeth’s and back again.
After another minute of silence, Charlotte said, “Mr. Collins was not pleased to hear of my journey to Hertfordshire, Mr. Darcy.”
“I assure you, Mr. Collins, the carriage is comfortable and well-sprung, and I will look after Mrs. Collins as if she were my own sister. No harm shall befall her.”
Mr. Collins spluttered again, saying half-words and making less sense than usual. Darcy had trapped him neatly. He could not say he was not concerned for his wife’s comfort or safety without seeming an uncaring husband.
Finally, Collins said, “I have no doubt of that, Mr. Darcy. A gentleman such as yourself could not fail to do so, but Mrs. Collins has duties here to the parishioners and to her husband. A journey at this time is ill-advised.”
“Cannot a lady wish to visit her mother?” asked Mr. Darcy smoothly. “And escorting her sister and Miss Bennet to Town is a great kindness on her part.”
Collins looked more flustered and said, “A maid can accompany my sister and cousin. My wife is not required. Lady Catherine may need her.”
Charlotte looked to the ceiling, the closest she would come to rolling her eyes in public.
“Surely you cannot put Lady Catherine’s comfort above that of your own wife!” Darcy scoffed. He looked incredulous at the very notion and Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from laughing.
“I, well, what can you mean?” Mr. Collins spluttered even more.
He finally stopped speaking, took a deep breath, drew himself up to his full height and said, “Mr. Darcy, I understand my cousin may have tempted you into a declaration you now regret, but you cannot allow her wiles to ruin the union that has long been planned between you and your cousin.”
Darcy sat up taller and the room became eerily still.
“Mr. Collins, I am my own man and as such, I will decide whom I will marry, not my aunt, and certainly not her parson. I have no understanding with my cousin, nor will I ever have. She is well aware of this, as is her ladyship for I told them both myself. Kindly disabuse yourself of the notion that a wedding will be forthcoming at Rosings.”
Collins paled and gulped loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear it.
Elizabeth felt so proud in that moment, she would have kissed Darcy had they not been in public.
She settled for squeezing his hand and gifting him a warm smile when he looked her way.
He returned it as Mr. Collins continued to stare at them, utterly dumbfounded.
Elizabeth thought to gloat to Mr. Collins that he had been wrong—she would receive another marriage proposal, and a significantly better one than what he had delivered in her mother’s drawing room, but she refrained.
Soon Charlotte took pity on her husband and guided him into a chair.
Mr. Collins continued to gape at them another few minutes before he said, “I do not understand.”
Charlotte hiccupped rather loudly and Elizabeth refused to meet her eye, knowing she would burst into laughter if she did so.
“It is simple, Mr. Collins,” said Darcy patiently.
“Lady Catherine wished me to marry her daughter, but I did not wish it. There has never been any formal arrangement of any kind and no contracts were ever signed and therefore have not been broken. I fell in love with Miss Elizabeth in Hertfordshire last autumn, and when I met her here this spring, I asked to court her. She very kindly allowed me the privilege, and I will speak to Mr. Bennet when I escort her to Longbourn.”
Mr. Collins’s eyes were bulging comically now. He clearly had no idea how to behave in this situation, and Elizabeth was squeezing Mr. Darcy’s hand fiercely to keep her merriment in check.
Finally, Charlotte said, “We are very happy for you, Mr. Darcy. Are we not, Mr. Collins?”
“Hm? Oh, yes. Quite.”
It was not much in the way of congratulations, but it was a step in the right direction.
“It is very kind of you to offer to see me to Meryton, Mr. Darcy.”
“I am happy to do it, Mrs. Collins. I could do no less for such a close friend of Elizabeth’s.”
Mr. Darcy was very careful with propriety, so Elizabeth knew he had used her name so familiarly on purpose.
Did Mr. Collins understand? Mr. Darcy would make a powerful ally and a formidable foe.
It would behoove him to choose appropriately.
Charlotte seemed to grasp this and was quick to make sure Mr. Darcy knew she approved of his choice.
“I shall have Mrs. Hopkins prepare a basket for the carriage in the morning. Eliza has said you are fond of her muffins.”
Darcy nodded. “That I am. Thank you, Mrs. Collins. It is thoughtful of you.”
And so the conversation would have ended, on a harmonious if not pleasant note, had not Lady Catherine chosen that moment to burst into the parsonage.