CHAPTER EIGHT
MR. COLLINS’S SERMONS AND his constant eagerness to thrust himself into Elizabeth’s notice were the chief diversions of the next three days at Longbourn.
On the fifth morning of his visit, he accompanied Jane, Lydia, and Kitty to Meryton to call upon their Aunt Philips, leaving a rare quiet behind.
Mary remained at home with Elizabeth, who, being slightly indisposed by the last days of her courses, had declined the outing.
Around eleven o’clock, Charlotte Lucas arrived at Longbourn to call upon her friend. Mary, having declared her intention to practise her music, excused herself to the adjoining room, leaving Elizabeth to receive their guest.
Charlotte entered the parlour with her usual composure and a pleasant smile.
“My dear Lizzy,” she said, after the first courtesies, “you must forgive me for not calling sooner. We have been in continual bustle at Lucas Lodge. My mother’s nerves, my father’s accounts, and Maria’s endless chatter have left me quite without leisure. ”
Elizabeth welcomed her warmly. “Then you are doubly good to brave such confusion for me. You must take tea.”
Mrs. Bennet appeared long enough to exclaim how delighted she was to see Miss Lucas, ordered tea and seed-cake, and then bustled out again, leaving them to their conversation.
Charlotte smiled. “Your mother is indefatigable.”
“And unstoppable,” Elizabeth replied. “If she ever paused to draw breath, the house might collapse from shock.”
They both laughed and settled by the hearth.
The conversation soon turned to their last meeting.
“I have meant to tease you, Charlotte,” Elizabeth began, “I saw you dance twice with Mr. Mark at the assembly. He seemed quite taken with you.”
Charlotte shook her head, smiling. “Taken with himself, more likely. He spoke only of the draught from the west windows and how poor the musicians were. His devotion was entirely to his own comfort.”
“Ah, then his affections are well distributed,” Elizabeth teased. “He danced with Jane and Miss. King too, though you alone were honoured with two.”
Charlotte smiled. “The real admiration of the evening belonged to Jane and Mr. Bingley. He scarcely looked away from her the whole night.”
“My mother’s prophecy fulfilled,” Elizabeth said. “She will fancy herself a prophetess now that he has called at Longbourn. The visit was meant for my father, though his eyes were not.”
“Then we must prepare for wedding bells,” Charlotte said, laughing.
“Perhaps,” Elizabeth replied. “They are well suited, though the course of true affection rarely runs smooth.”
Charlotte leaned forward with a mischievous glint. “Speaking of affection, I hear you have found some of your own.”
Elizabeth blinked. “Me?”
"Yes. Someone claims to have seen you twice in Mr. Darcy's company. Rather extraordinary, considering he once found you 'not handsome enough to tempt him.'"
Elizabeth laughed. “Oh, nonsense. Pippin met his greyhound, Apollo, and the town has mistaken their friendship for ours.”
At the sound of her name, Pippin lifted her head from her corner, tail thumping cheerfully.
“See?” Elizabeth said. “She is the one who has fallen in love.”
“With Mr. Darcy’s dog?” Charlotte asked, laughing.
“With Apollo, yes. Their affections are unbounded. The day after the assembly, Pippin and I met Mr. Darcy on a walk, and the two dogs promptly knocked him off his feet.”
Charlotte gasped and covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. “Forgive me, but I can hardly imagine it. He must have been furious.”
“On the contrary, he was more startled than angry. I think he was shocked his dog could behave so wildly.”
“Pride before a fall indeed,” Charlotte said, smiling.
“He did not act proud that day,” Elizabeth admitted. “Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy called here the following morning, and a few days later I met him again on the green—or rather, Pippin met Apollo. They knocked down poor Mr. Rancliff, the shoemaker.”
“Mr. Rancliff? Dear me!” Charlotte laughed. “And what did you do?”
“We apologised profusely, of course. Mr. Darcy even fetched the man’s hat from the hedge. Then we spoke for a while before parting.”
“Providence, surely,” Charlotte said. “It seems fate is determined to throw you together.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Or perhaps our dogs simply enjoy mischief.”
“Perhaps,” Charlotte replied. “But I think Pippin may be a better matchmaker than she appears.”
Elizabeth reached down to stroke the spaniel’s head. “Then she shall be disappointed. Mr. Darcy may be improved upon acquaintance, but I have no designs in that quarter.”
Charlotte tilted her head. “No designs, but some admiration, perhaps?”
Elizabeth smiled faintly. “He is less proud than I believed him and perhaps kinder, yet still far too solemn for my taste.”
Charlotte chuckled. “Well, solemn gentlemen sometimes surprise us.”
Elizabeth only laughed and shook her head.
Charlotte then said, “I hear your cousin has quite settled himself at Longbourn.”
Elizabeth groaned. “Too comfortably. Since Mama redirected his affections from Jane, he has transferred them—with all the grace of a sermon—to me. I fear his intentions are becoming serious.”
Charlotte’s eyes brightened. “Serious? How excellent!”
“Excellent?” Elizabeth sighed. “He is a solemn fool, forever quoting his patroness as if she were the Gospel.”
Charlotte smothered a laugh. “Surely he is not that bad.”
“He is worse. Heaven forbid that I end up with such a man.”
“Is he at least plain? It would make refusal easier.”
“No,” Elizabeth said with a grimace. “Only insufferable.”
“And without employment?”
“He is a clergyman, quite comfortable, with a generous patroness in Kent.”
“Then really, Lizzy, you must think of him seriously. He offers comfort and stability.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I would as soon marry the pulpit itself. He speaks without feeling, flatters without meaning, and believes every thought not his patroness’ must be in error.”
Charlotte smiled knowingly. “Perhaps your heart is already engaged elsewhere—to a gentleman of better breeding, with fine eyes and a more reserved manner?”
Elizabeth laughed. “You will have me accused of vanity next. I assure you, Mr. Darcy has no designs, nor I any interest. He is not so very bad, I suppose—but that is as generous as I can be.”
“Say what you will, Lizzy. Hearts have a way of misbehaving when least expected.”
"Then let us hope mine remains rational. Two romantics in this house is quite enough. One is smitten with Mr. Bingley and the other has four legs."
At this, Pippin barked once, as though in agreement.
***
THE MERRY COMMOTION OF returning voices filled the hall just as Elizabeth and Charlotte finished their seed cake.
Lydia’s laughter rang out first, followed by Kitty’s fluttering chatter and Jane’s softer tones.
A moment later the party from Meryton entered, cheeks bright from the cold and spirits high.
“Mama!” cried Lydia, bursting into the room. “You will never believe it! Aunt Philips says a new regiment has come to town—a whole regiment! Officers everywhere, and they are to be quartered near the High Street!”
Kitty clapped her hands. “Yes, and Aunt Philips says Colonel Forster’s wife is quite amiable and intends to hold a gathering soon. Only imagine, Lizzy, red coats in every direction!”
Elizabeth smiled. “Your imagination has already joined the parade, I think.”
Mrs. Bennet entered at Kitty's call, nearly as flushed as her daughters. "A new regiment? My word! How charming for Meryton! Lydia, Kitty, you must behave like proper young ladies. We would not wish the officers to think Hertfordshire girls too forward."
Lydia giggled. “Oh, I shall be all modesty and decorum, Mama—until one of them asks me to dance.”
Laughter rippled through the room. When it subsided, Elizabeth turned to her guest. “Charlotte, you have not yet met our cousin. Mr. Collins, allow me to present my friend, Miss Lucas.”
Mr. Collins rose with an air of consequence and bowed deeply. “Miss Lucas, the honour is entirely mine.”
Charlotte curtsied, a polite smile playing about her lips. “You are very kind, sir.”
Mrs. Bennet beamed with satisfaction. "Indeed, Miss Lucas and her parents are among our dearest friends. You must visit Lucas Lodge, Mr. Collins; it is but a short walk from here, and I am sure they would be delighted to receive you."
“I shall be most happy to do so,” Mr. Collins replied with solemn courtesy.
"How glad I am to see you," Jane said, her eyes on their guest rather than on the animated discussion of the regiment.
“And I, you,” said Charlotte warmly.
Elizabeth leaned forward. “And beyond the news of soldiers, how was Meryton itself?”
Jane smiled. “Very pleasant indeed. I met Mr. Bingley by chance, just outside Colonel Forster’s house. You know it stands opposite Aunt Philips’s. He had called to deliver a note, I think.”
Mrs. Bennet clasped her hands. “Mr. Bingley again! How delightful, my dear Jane. So attentive of him!”
Jane coloured slightly. “He only stopped to speak for a few minutes. Aunt Philips joined us, and he was his usual pleasant self.”
Mr. Collins, seated stiffly nearby, spoke with great satisfaction. “An amiable young man, that Mr. Bingley. So cheerful, so obliging. I should like to improve the acquaintance.”
"Was Mr. Darcy there as well?" The words left Elizabeth's lips before she could check them.
Charlotte turned to her, eyes alight with amusement. “Mr. Darcy, Lizzy?” she murmured teasingly, but, catching sight of Mr. Collins, checked herself and said no more.
Jane shook her head. “Mr. Darcy was not with him today. Mr. Bingley said he had business elsewhere.”
At once Mr. Collins started upright. “Mr. Darcy! Surely not Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire—the master of Pemberley?”
Kitty, always eager, nodded. “Yes, that is he. Mr. Bingley’s closest friend.”
Mr. Collins looked astonished. “Good heavens! Why did no one tell me before?”
Jane, somewhat taken aback, said gently, “It did not seem important.”
“Oh, but it is,” he cried, adjusting his cravat. “Lady Catherine de Bourgh speaks of him often. I have long wished for the honour of meeting him. To think that I should find myself among his acquaintances—it is most providential.”
Elizabeth regarded him curiously. “Your patroness knows Mr. Darcy personally, then?”
“Knows him?” Mr. Collins drew himself up. “She is his aunt, Miss Elizabeth. Her ladyship’s daughter, Miss de Bourgh, is his intended bride. The match has long been arranged and gives her ladyship the greatest satisfaction.”
Elizabeth felt the colour rise swiftly to her cheeks. “His intended?” she repeated softly.
“Yes,” continued Mr. Collins, entirely oblivious. “Miss de Bourgh is a young lady of rank and refinement, though somewhat delicate in health. Her education has been conducted under Lady Catherine’s own eye. She will make a most suitable mistress for Pemberley.”
Elizabeth forced a faint smile, though her pulse had quickened unaccountably. She bent to adjust Pippin’s collar, willing her hands to remain steady. “Indeed,” she said lightly, “Lady Catherine appears to have arranged everything to perfection.”
Charlotte, perceiving her friend’s sudden stillness, hid her concern beneath a calm expression and sipped her tea.
Meanwhile, Mr. Collins went on with earnest self-importance. “I must make Mr. Darcy’s acquaintance without delay. Lady Catherine will be pleased to learn that I have met her nephew’s circle here in Hertfordshire. I shall write to her at once.”
His tone was full of solemn purpose, as though the fate of the kingdom depended upon it. Yet, as he spoke, his eyes strayed toward Charlotte Lucas, whose polite attention he seemed to mistake for admiration. Elizabeth observed the direction of his gaze and a small, knowing smile touched her lips.
Jane rose to pour fresh tea. "It seems, Mr. Collins, that there is more to Lady Catherine than you have yet told us."
"Indeed, Miss Bennet. Her ladyship possesses such depth of character and condescension that I could not hope to do her justice in so brief a time."
Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Charlotte, her face composed though her thoughts were in some disorder. So Mr. Darcy is to marry his cousin, she thought. How very suitable. And how very foolish of me to care.
Pippin, sensing her mistress’s mood, laid her head against Elizabeth’s knee. Elizabeth stroked the little spaniel gently and said, with forced brightness, “Well, Mr. Collins, I am sure Lady Catherine will be most gratified by your diligence.”
He bowed, missing entirely the irony in her tone. “I shall strive to deserve her praise.”
Charlotte smiled into her cup. “And she will be equally gratified, I think, when she learns her clergyman finds such pleasant company in Hertfordshire.”
Mr. Collins beamed. “You are exceedingly kind, Miss Lucas. Most kind indeed.”
Elizabeth nearly laughed, but caught herself. She bent close to Pippin and whispered, "It is just as well, my dear. Even if he has been... unexpectedly kind, of late. A man engaged to his cousin has no business looking at anyone else. And I have no business noticing if he does."
Pippin sighed softly and pressed closer, as if in agreement.