Chapter 5
Even though she did not want to invite the party from the parsonage for dinner on Sunday after services, Lady Catherine did so because her older nephew had been asking too many questions about Anne, and she needed to distract him.
The impertinent and pert Miss Bennet would be enough of a distraction.
To that end when she left the church, with Mr Collins following her out like the obedient vassal he was, Lady Catherine had extended the invitation, ordering the Collinses and their guests to arrive no later than half after five.
Her desire not to be in Mr Darcy’s company again almost caused Elizabeth to feign a megrim, but she decided those sorts of machinations were below her, and besides, had she not said that she would not allow Mr Darcy to scare her away?
Even though it was not more than a ten-minute walk—much less than that had Elizabeth been walking at speed—Mr Collins insisted that the ladies in his house be ready to depart at five.
“You see what condescension you could have enjoyed had you…” Collins stated as they waited to leave the house.
He stopped speaking when his cousin held up her hand.
“Mr Collins, from what I have seen since I arrived here; you are very happy with your choice of wife. Did I misunderstand?” Elizabeth could see the embarrassment in the red colour of Charlotte’s cheeks which was why she needed to stop the man once and for all.
“Indeed, I could not be happier, my Charlotte and I were formed for one another,” Collins preened.
“If that be the case, when I refused your offer of marriage, did I not do you a service? You and I would never have had the felicity you seem to have with Charlotte. Mr Collins, I must tell you in all sincerity, as I told your patroness, we do not suit and both of us would have been miserable had we married,” Elizabeth pointed out.
“You could not have a better, more intelligent, and more faithful wife than you have in Charlotte.”
At that moment, Collins understood Cousin Elizabeth was inured to his pointing out the advantages that marriage to him would have given her.
For the first time, he looked at his wife and saw the way her cheeks burned with shame.
He decided there was no industry in any longer pointing out to Cousin Elizabeth the ills of her choice.
Elizabeth did not receive an apology from her cousin, but he turned his attentions on his wife and not herself.
After Mr Collins donned his coat and broad brimmed hat, he marched out of the house proudly, Maria following him.
Before she followed, Charlotte mouthed ‘thank you’ to her friend.
Elizabeth and Charlotte followed Mr Collins and Maria as he strode towards the mansion, once again extolling the costs of the glazing and chimney pieces.
The two friends walked arm-in-arm, enjoying the remains of the warm spring day.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Colonel Fitzwilliam welcomed the parsonage party jovially, Lady Cathrine inclined her head, and Mr Darcy bowed. Having them at the manor house was a welcome relief. Had he not been aware Darcy was besotted with Mrs Collins’s pretty friend; Fitzwilliam may have taken a fancy to her.
After the meal—which Elizabeth thought too rich and far too lavish—they were directed to the drawing room, as Lady Catherine had decided there would be no separation of the sexes.
Fitzwilliam seated himself next to Miss Bennet.
They talked so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at home, of new books and music, that Elizabeth had never been so well entertained in that particular drawing room before.
They conversed with so much spirit and flow, as to draw the attention of both Lady Catherine and Mr Darcy as well.
His eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned towards them with a look of curiosity.
Elizabeth assumed he was not happy that one who had so many perceived faults held his cousin’s attention.
Feeling left out of the conversation, Lady Catherine decided to interject. “What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is.”
“We are speaking of music, Madam,” Fitzwilliam responded when he could no longer ignore his aunt’s rude interruption.
“If it be about music, then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation if you are speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have a better natural taste or derive more true enjoyment of music than myself. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to take up the instrument. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?”
Fitzwilliam leaned close to Miss Bennet’s ear. “My aunt is tone deaf.”
Elizabeth had to fight to restrain her mirth. This was just more proof of what a blowhard this woman was. She thought her wealth and rank purchased her class and knowledge, but she had neither.
Darcy had to fight to school his features feeling not a little jealousy at how well Richard and Miss Elizabeth were getting on. “My sister is very proficient on the instrument,” he responded.
“I am very glad to hear such a good account of her,” said Lady Catherine; “make sure to tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel if she does not practice a good deal.”
“Anna practises more than any other I know,” Darcy replied, “I assure you, your advice is not needed due to her constant playing and improving.”
“So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often tell young ladies that no excellence in music is to be acquired without constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet that she will never play really well unless she practises more; and though Mrs Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome to come to Rosings Park any day and play on the pianoforte in Mrs Jenkinson’s room.
She would be in nobody’s way in that part of the house. ”
Darcy looked a little ashamed thanks to the display of his aunt’s ill breeding but said nothing.
Even had he wanted to, he would have been interrupted by the arrival of the housekeeper and two maids carrying trays with tea and coffee. Lady Catherine ordered Mrs Collins to serve, and Elizabeth assisted her.
When tea and coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of having promised to play at the pianoforte for him.
To honour her vow, Elizabeth sat herself at the instrument.
Lady Catherine’s boast had not been an empty one, it was a grand instrument.
Fitzwilliam placed a chair near Miss Bennet.
Elizabeth began to play one of the many she could play without the sheet music.
Lady Catherine, who professed to have a love of music, listened to half a song, before she talked to Mr Darcy over the sound of the music.
That was until the latter walked away from her.
He moved to the instrument and stood in such a way so as to command a full view of the fair performer’s countenance.
Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first convenient pause, turned to him with an arch smile.
“You mean to frighten me, Mr Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? I will not be alarmed even if your sister plays so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.” Elizabeth looked at the hateful man challengingly.
“You could not really believe it is my desire to alarm you,” Darcy stated. “I have had the pleasure of being familiar with you long enough to be aware that, from time to time, you find great enjoyment in professing opinions which in fact are not your own.”
Elizabeth loosed one of her tinkling laughs at Mr Darcy’s description of herself.
She turned towards Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so able to expose my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr Darcy, it is very ungenerous of you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire—and, give me leave to say, very impolitic too—for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out as will shock your relations to hear.”
“I have nothing to fear from you,” Darcy responded with a ghost of a smile.
“I would like to hear what you can tell me of his behaviour in Hertfordshire,” Colonel Fitzwilliam cried. “I have seen him among strangers, but perhaps it was different in your home town.”
“I will tell you, however you must prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire was at a local assembly in Meryton. How much do you think he participated? He danced only four dances, though thanks to the war, gentlemen were scarce, and to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. They were in fact tolerable enough and not being slighted! By agreement, all of us ladies sit out two sets each to make sure everyone has a turn to dance. Mr Darcy, can you refute what I said?”
Her statement about being slighted and tolerable stirred a memory, but Darcy could not place it. “I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party,” he defended.
“And nobody can ever be introduced in a ballroom, can they?” The song came to an end; Elizabeth turned to the other man. “Would you like me to play another, Colonel Fitzwilliam? My fingers await your orders.”
“It is possible I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction; but I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers,” Darcy responded.