Chapter 17 #2
Too wrapped up in her own concerns earlier, Elizabeth had not paused to wonder why Lady Catherine had summoned Darcy to her presence that afternoon, too.
Would she have tried to have Elizabeth dismissed?
Or would she only have argued for the superiority of a match with someone like Anne compared to Elizabeth?
At both ideas, Elizabeth gave a scornful little snort and kicked at a rock with her boot. It was then that a familiar deep voice pulled her from her reverie and made her spin round towards the house.
“Miss Bennet?”
∞∞∞
“Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth responded, nodding as he approached and stopped before her.
Both his small bow and her curtsy seemed somewhat strange in this informal woodland setting, and he did not immediately speak. Mr Darcy’s face was serious and thoughtful, as though he had something significant to say but was waiting to pour out his thoughts for some reason.
Had he listened to his aunt and was preparing to dismiss her after all, Elizabeth wondered with dismay? Surely, Mr Darcy was not so weak and persuadable as that. Was he?
“Miss Bennet,” he began again, after a very long pause and a deep breath.
“Yes?” she responded lightly.
The expression on his face was indicative of some inner struggle, again boding ill as he paused. At last he spoke yet again, a full sentence this time, although not an enlightening one.
“Your pianoforte duets with Georgiana are most pleasing to the ear. Colonel Fitzwilliam hopes that you will entertain us again after supper this evening.”
“If Miss Darcy is willing, I would certainly be content to oblige,” Elizabeth returned, her senses still heightened in expectation of some more weighty statement to come.
“I am sure that Georgiana will welcome the practice. I have been thinking, Miss Bennet…”
“Yes?” she said once more.
Now, Mr Darcy looked away into the woodland as he addressed her. Elizabeth noticed for the first time that his dark hair was slightly damp and disordered, and one of the buttons on his jacket was not properly fastened. This, too, must be indicative of some mental agitation not yet revealed.
“…Georgiana’s Italian. Even though you do not have the language yourself, there are ways in which you might encourage her to persist in her learning and practice.”
“I do encourage Georgiana to practise her Italian as much as she can,” Elizabeth returned, mildly indignant. “I have her read Italian poetry and prose to me for practice sometimes, as well as talking about the meaning of what she reads.”
“Good, good,” Mr Darcy said vaguely in response. “Now, as to music, my aunt would like Georgiana to spend more of her time on the harp. She played when she was younger, but has come to prefer the pianoforte. You must encourage her not to neglect her other instrument.”
“I shall,” agreed Elizabeth, now feeling somewhat irritated at this accumulation of minor criticisms of how she performed her duties as companion. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes, there is. Miss Bennet…”
“Mr Darcy?” Elizabeth reminded him when he seemed to have lost track of his thoughts again.
“I do wish that when you walk out, you would take Georgiana with you more often. It is healthful to take outdoor exercise, and Georgiana is nervous on horseback.”
Something in Elizabeth snapped at hearing yet another criticism, all the anger and frustration she had felt at Lady Catherine’s unfair accusations flooding back in the wake of Mr Darcy’s further nitpicking. Her resolve not to make impulsive judgements and decisions was swept away.
“Mr Darcy, you and Lady Catherine have made it quite clear to me that I am not meeting your family’s exacting standards for Georgiana’s companion.
I assure you that I am quite ready to remove myself from your household as soon as convenient and return to my uncle’s house in London.
I shall seek another role, any role, better suited to my abilities. ”
At this pronouncement, Mr Darcy’s face fell most unexpectedly, his eyes widening in apparent alarm.
“Miss Bennet, you must not be so hasty. I fear that not every employer can be trusted, especially by young ladies of pleasing aspect and amiable personality. There are ill-intentioned men in the world, and it would be on my conscience to let you walk undefended into such danger.”
Elizabeth could make no sense of the man whatsoever.
Did he wish her to leave or to stay? In either case, Mr Darcy had a funny way of pressing his case.
While civil and solicitous in other contexts, his statement about having her wellbeing on his conscience irked her greatly right now.
Combined with his earlier critique, it sounded only like a lack of confidence in her competence.
“I assure you, Mr Darcy, that I am perfectly capable of making my own way in the world,” she told him coldly. “You need suffer no qualms of conscience on my behalf.”
Mr Darcy’s well-shaped jaw worked for a moment, his face still marked with peculiarly strong feeling.
Then, abruptly, he turned on his heel and stalked away, leaving Elizabeth alone in the parkland once more.
She looked after him in puzzlement, none the wiser as to the actual motivation that had brought him out to her in the first place.
∞∞∞
“What lovely flowers,” remarked Charlotte Collins, taking the small bunch from Elizabeth’s hand and kissing her cheek. “They will look very well in my private parlour.”
After requesting tea and a vase from Charlotte’s maid, the two ladies went through to the parlour in question and took their seats there, Elizabeth sighing involuntarily as she tossed her coat onto a spare chair.
In the absence of Mr Collins, Mr Darcy, or Lady Catherine, it felt good not to stand on formality with her old friend.
“Is something wrong, Lizzy?” Charlotte asked with her usual keen perception after the tea had been laid out on the small table before them. “You look out of sorts. Usually, after a walk, you are brighter than before.”
Elizabeth could not hide her unhappy state of mind entirely, but nor could she really tell Charlotte all that had transpired at Rosings that day.
She certainly would not repeat what Lady Catherine had said to her today, nor criticise that lady too strongly.
Charlotte was Mrs Collins now, and Elizabeth always had to remember the risk of her words getting back to Mr Collins’s esteemed patroness.
As for Mr Darcy’s appearance in the park, that was impossible for Elizabeth to explain, even to herself.
“Would you agree with Lady Catherine de Bourgh that I am an unsuitable companion for the Darcy household, especially given that I am young and that Mr Darcy is unmarried?” Elizabeth asked, choosing her words with care. “
“Ah,” Charlotte responded, nodding in comprehension. “I dare say that Lady Catherine expected you to be another woman of Mrs Annesley’s age, and you must admit that it is an unusual situation. I was surprised myself.”
“You cannot be more surprised that I became a companion than I was when you decided to marry Mr Collins,” Elizabeth commented with dry humour. “As in your case, I assure you that I did have excellent reasons and have acted to ensure my future security and happiness as best I can.”
Charlotte laughed and sipped her tea.
“I was not half so surprised as Mr Collins,” the rector’s wife remarked with good humour.
“He nearly choked on his morning egg when I read him your first letter from Darcy House, but then resigned himself to the shift in your status after consoling himself with the thought that at least you were working for the family of Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
It was an amusing image, and Elizabeth laughed too.
“Dear me, yes. Mr Collins said something along these lines when you came to Rosings the day after we arrived. My cousin considers what he terms my ‘early resignation to spinsterhood’ as unnatural, but also commends me for pragmatic stoicism in the face of the inevitable. And he told me he glories in my present place with Lady Catherine’s relatives. ”
Both ladies smiled and shook their heads at the absurdity of Mr Collins’ language, Elizabeth noticing that Charlotte now did so with a hint of affection, as someone might feel for a misguided child. Then, Mrs Collins’ face became more thoughtful.
“In answer to your question, Lizzy, I do not consider you unsuitable for your present role, but many people would see the arrangement unwise, for the reasons you give.”
Elizabeth frowned slightly as she considered this afresh.
“Whatever his faults, Mr Darcy is a perfect gentleman. My uncle and aunt were satisfied with the propriety of the household arrangements and with Mr Darcy’s character. My own character is not without flaws, but no one who knew me well could suspect me of improper behaviour.”
“None of that matters to those who do not know,” Charlotte told her. “People see what they want to see and may imagine what they please without you, or Mr Darcy, or anyone else having any power to prevent it.”
“That is surely a judgement upon society rather than upon me,” returned Elizabeth with distaste. “How hateful.”
Charlotte remained philosophical.
“The gossip of society at large is not a pleasant consideration, but it is an important one,” she advised. “Do not be too squeamish or hurried in your judgement, not if you wish to understand people as they really are.”
Elizabeth nodded, thinking again of how squarely she, and her whole circle, had been taken in by George Wickham.
“You are right, Charlotte. I still rush too quickly to judgement when I would do better to spend more time building my understanding.”
“You are right that Mr Darcy is a fine gentleman, Lizzy. I am glad that you can see that now rather than being blinded by a few silly remarks of no consequence, as you were when you first met him. And from what I have observed at Rosings, I believe he also thinks well of you.”
Charlotte Collins spoke meditatively, as though carefully developing some thought in her own head and working out how best to explain it to her friend.
In light of the recent exchange with Mr Darcy in Rosings Park, Elizabeth did find Charlotte’s last sentence hard to countenance.
Likely it was motivated more by wanting to comfort a friend than speak the truth.
“I am not so convinced of Mr Darcy’s estimation,” Elizabeth said without elucidating further.
“The fact that he thinks so little of me personally is another reason that I find the presumption of Lady Catherine and others so trying. Living in the same house does not confer automatic sympathy or liking.”
“No, but close proximity can create unbidden intimacies and alter normal behaviours,” Charlotte pointed out. “It does not surprise me at all that Mr Darcy likes you better now than he did in Hertfordshire, or that your own feelings toward him have changed as well.”
Without quite knowing why, Elizabeth felt a blush rising to her cheeks. Either agreeing with this statement or disputing it seemed likely to lead her into trouble, and she therefore remained silent.
“In fact, if you did have any ambitions towards Mr Darcy, now would be the ideal time to act on them, Lizzy. You may never have so great an opportunity again.”
At this assertion, Elizabeth’s face grew hot as fire.
Charlotte always had a tendency to bluntness, which Elizabeth generally welcomed when it was directed elsewhere.
Finding herself now its object, she liked it less.
Charlotte’s idea horrified her, being similar to Lady Catherine’s thoughts but couched in a more positive light.
Did everyone really think that Elizabeth was either out to ensnare Mr Darcy, or that she ought to be, if she wasn’t?
! The very idea seemed to Elizabeth both a degradation to her own honour and terribly unfair to Mr Darcy.
Surely the poor man at least deserved the chance to court a wife according to his own plans and wishes, rather than the schemes of an ambitious woman.
Elizabeth had no intention of playing such a role.
“Let us change the subject,” Elizabeth said firmly. “Tell me of your neighbours beyond Rosings. Are there other ladies whom you might befriend?”
Seeing that she had gone too far for Elizabeth to follow, Charlotte accepted this shift in the conversation.
“Well, Mrs Oliver, the local solicitor’s wife, is a good sort of woman,” she began, and then continued to run through the other ladies of the district’s gentry and professional classes.
While giving every appearance of following her friend’s words, with appropriate nods and comments where required, Elizabeth’s mind was very much elsewhere.
Charlotte’s remarks had made up a mind already heavily influenced by first Lady Catherine and then her nephew.
She really must leave Mr Darcy’s employment as soon as possible.
Elizabeth was only sorry that it would hurt Georgiana’s feelings.