Chapter Six
Miss Jane and Miss Elizabeth Bennet remained at Netherfield for three days.
When she was well enough to go outside, Miss Bennet walked in the garden with Bingley, who insisted she be swathed in several cloaks.
Elizabeth had acted as a chaperone, reducing the amount of time she could spend in the library, but she still devoted hours to research.
Despite her unconventional ideas, Darcy found her company hugely enjoyable, and the hours they passed in the library were quite pleasant.
She had a clever wit and laughed easily, never taking herself too seriously—and making Darcy feel lighter as a result.
They occasionally disagreed, but their debates were always quite interesting.
Although nothing in their research accounted for their present dilemma, they both increased their understanding of goblin behavior—particularly with the advantage provided by Wyndham’s book.
Despite the anxiety about another goblin attack hanging over Hertfordshire, Darcy experienced those days as some of the most enjoyable in his life.
He was particularly pleased that he and Elizabeth were becoming friends.
Caroline rarely visited the library; she and Mrs. Hurst were occupied with plans for the ball Netherfield would soon host.
Many of Bingley’s books remained unexamined when Elizabeth returned to Longbourn. She took a pile of books with her, and Darcy promised to peruse some of the remaining volumes. They arranged to meet in two days so they might share what they had learned.
Darcy took care to hide his wistful feelings when the Bennet sisters departed, but he suspected he was not alone in those sentiments.
Bingley had personally escorted the sisters to the carriage—apparently loath to lose even a minute of Miss Bennet’s company—and had made many promises to visit Longbourn.
Upon their departure, Netherfield grew instantly duller and quieter.
Caroline, for one, did not feel the loss. “How pleasant it is to have the house to ourselves!” she declared that night at dinner.
“It is not as if Netherfield is crowded,” Bingley groused to his sister. Every head at the table turned in his direction; Bingley was so rarely cross. “Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth were excellent company,” he added.
“Jane Bennet is a lovely girl, I grant you,” Caroline said languidly.
“Although she smiles at everything—and I have reason to wonder how deep her emotions run. And you cannot forget that her mother wishes her to marry a fortune. How much of her affection is genuine? I know you, Charles. You will not be happy with a woman who does not experience true affection for you.”
“No, of course not,” Bingley mumbled. Although he had leapt to Elizabeth’s defense, he struggled to defend himself. Perhaps it was all too easy for Bingley to believe that nobody would love him for his own sake.
Darcy considered arguing with Caroline, but it was true that he had no way of knowing Jane Bennet’s heart. She seemed pleased by Bingley’s affections, but she seemed pleased at everything.
“You must be careful there,” Caroline said. “You do not want to give rise to any expectations you cannot fulfill. With such a sister, she is hardly a suitable match for you.”
“Which sister are you referring to?” Darcy inquired.
Caroline smirked. “Indeed there are so many sisters to provide mortification.” She tittered delicately. “But I meant Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Applying to the Academy! She obviously thinks highly of herself. I cannot imagine you would desire your sister to attempt such a foolhardy scheme.”
“Certainly not,” Darcy agreed, reminding himself that Elizabeth was good company, but he was fortunate that it would go no further. Bingley, however, did not join this discussion and said little for the remainder of the meal.
***
When Elizabeth returned to Longbourn, she was full of ideas about continuing her research, which was proving quite fascinating.
Although they had found nothing directly relating to their present dilemma, her father always said, “A little more knowledge is never a bad thing.” Elizabeth was particularly anticipating with pleasure the opportunity to discuss all that she had learned with her father.
He had contracted a mild case of pneumonia while they were visiting Netherfield, but she expected he would desire her to read to him during his recovery.
Her sentiments toward Mr. Darcy had warmed slightly.
When he looked at her, he was judging her for her ambition and lack of ladylike graces.
And, of course, Elizabeth could never achieve Miss Bingley’s level of elegance and sophistication.
But perhaps she had won a measure of grudging respect from him.
Her good mood disappeared the minute she entered Longbourn. When they arrived, they discovered their mother entertaining a stranger in the drawing room. The man was short and stout and had the greasiest hair Elizabeth had ever witnessed.
“My dears,” their mother announced grandly, “this is your cousin, Mr. Collins!” Elizabeth recognized the name as the man who would inherit Longbourn upon her father’s demise. She and Jane exchanged worried glances as they sank onto the settee. What could this visit possibly mean?
Mr. Collins smiled in a manner that was supposed to be ingratiating, but Elizabeth could not imagine anyone possibly being reassured by this man.
“I heard about your father’s sad affliction and hastened to offer whatever meager assistance I can.
” More likely he wished to inspect the property that he hopes to inherit directly. Elizabeth went cold.
“I am sure my father appreciates your solicitude,” Elizabeth said, knowing that the last thing her father needed in his sickroom was this pedant. “Fortunately, he is recovering well.”
Mr. Collins continued as if she had not spoken. “I am blessed to enjoy the patronage of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She has always said I am a great comfort in her times of affliction…and some of my parishioners agree.” No doubt his parishioners hurry from their sickrooms when they see him coming.
The discourse continued in this vein for some time.
The Bennets learned the cost of Lady Catherine’s chimney piece and the glazing on her windows.
They discovered how she disciplined her servants and her views on the war.
It was fascinating in the way the sight of any disaster is fascinating.
But Elizabeth only wanted to quit the room and visit her father.
After approximately two hours of Mr. Collins’s drivel, Hill brought in tea with a plate of lemon biscuits.
As Elizabeth’s mother started pouring out the tea, she happened to glance at the fireplace.
“Oh dear, I thought Annie had started the fire. No wonder it is so chilly in here. Jane, ring for Annie.”
Elizabeth suppressed her longing to volunteer. Well-bred ladies were not supposed to know fire spells—which was a silly custom since ether was inherently volatile and easy to light.
“Allow me!” Mr. Collins said grandly. “It is the least I can do to repay your hospitality.”
“How kind of you!” Mrs. Bennet replied. Mr. Collins knelt before the fireplace, clearly relishing the opportunity to demonstrate his magical abilities.
As he murmured Latin over the logs, Elizabeth’s eyes went wide.
She might not possess an Academy education, but she recognized poorly pronounced Latin.
He pulled on strands of ether but seemed to have trouble directing them where to go.
Nevertheless, he gestured grandly and commanded the logs: “Ignite!”
The plate of lemon biscuits immediately burst into flames.
The logs in the fireplace did nothing.
Jumping up from the settee, Elizabeth managed to wring a little water from the ether with an aquis spell, dowsing the fiery biscuits and creating a plate of soggy crumbs. Mr. Collins regarded the wet biscuits with chagrin.
“Oh! Oh!” he exclaimed. “Miss Elizabeth, did you do that?” She nodded, inspecting the plate for random sparks.
“How clever! I struggle to draw water from the ether myself.” Elizabeth did not find that hard to believe.
“That is most impressive,” he said as though she were a child demonstrating basic arithmetic.
As Elizabeth departed to fetch a towel, Mr. Collins offered again to start the fire. “On second thought,” her mother said, “It is quite warm enough in here already.”
***
By the end of the day, such mishaps had become alarmingly regular.
Mr. Collins’s spell to warm his tea caused the cup to explode.
When he slipped some Latin into the grace at the dinner table, the roast bounced off the serving platter.
His unsolicited attempt to remove a little dirt from Elizabeth’s dress managed to enlarge the stain; she could only be grateful he had not set it aflame.
Elizabeth’s mother turned a blind eye, but her father was hugely entertained by the stories when she visited his bedchamber that evening.
As they readied themselves for bed, Elizabeth observed to Jane, “Many people use little or no magic in their daily lives. Mr. Collins should be one of them.”
Jane gave a tolerant smile. “But he will try, the poor man.”
“At the very least his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, should have someone follow him around and fix his magical blunders—lest he inadvertently kill someone.”
Jane laughed.
But Elizabeth sank glumly onto the bed. “Even worse, I believe he has taken a particular interest in me. After dinner, he chastised me for opening A Miscellany of Goblins and insisted on reading to me from Fordyce’s Sermons for Young Ladies Who Practice Household Magic.”