Chapter Eight
Two days after the ball, the Netherfield party had been invited to luncheon at Longbourn.
Despite his sisters’ obvious disapproval, Bingley had accepted with alacrity.
Citing a crowded carriage, Darcy volunteered to ride ahead.
In truth, he was unsure of the reception he might expect from Elizabeth and hoped they might have a private opportunity to discuss the goblin summoning, an event which was causing him no little anxiety.
Elizabeth had not appeared offended by his actions at the Netherfield ball or inclined to claim he had compromised her, but what if she had changed her mind? If she accused him of compromising her, he could hardly deny that they had kissed.
A combination of anxiety and eager anticipation caused him to drive the horse to faster speeds.
Just before Darcy reached Longbourn Manor, he spied Elizabeth seated on a small stone bench just inside the bounds of the garden.
Perfect. He could speak with her privately before any of Longbourn’s other inhabitants learned of his arrival.
Tying up his horse, Darcy strode toward the garden.
However, as he grew closer to her location, he realized that Elizabeth was not alone.
That obsequious cousin of hers was seated at her feet, reading aloud from a book of love poetry that Darcy did not recognize—which was just as well.
Judging by this sample, it was nonsensical twaddle.
Why is bad poetry so much worse than bad prose?
Collins’s audacity stunned him; Elizabeth was so far above him in quality that it was like a chimneysweep aspiring to wed a princess.
But Bingley had mentioned that Longbourn was entailed upon Collins, and Bennet’s recent illness could mean the entire family would be concerned about their future.
Under those circumstances even Collins might seem like a good match.
His stomach clenched painfully. I have no claim on Elizabeth, he reminded himself. Darcy would marry Caroline, and Elizabeth would likely marry as well. But his mind shied away from considering that painful reality.
Unseen, Darcy had not quite reached the garden when Elizabeth rose from the bench and strolled toward the house.
Collins situated himself on the bench, apparently awaiting her return, but he scrambled to his feet when he spotted Darcy.
“Mr. Darcy!” Collins made a ridiculously deep bow. “You honor me with your presence!”
As if I came to Longbourn to visit this fool.
Darcy was distracted from his silent grumblings by the overflowing bed of ivy beside the bench. While the rest of the garden was well tended, this ivy had overtaken the path so completely that the stones were barely visible. What could have caused such wild growth, particularly in February?
Collins followed his gaze. “I was demonstrating to Miss Elizabeth my extraordinary ability to make plants grow.”
“That is…quite a talent,” he murmured.
Collins gave a smile of false modesty. “It has taken me years to cultivate it.”
What could one possibly say in response to that? “Indeed…I had hoped to find Miss Elizabeth to discuss a matter of magical theory.”
Collins gaped for a moment but then recovered with a smile. “How kind of you to assist my cousin with her little spells!” His proprietary tone set Darcy’s teeth on edge.
He gave the parson his blackest scowl and had the pleasure of seeing him flinch. “Your cousin is an accomplished mage. No doubt she could teach you a few things—if she does not decide to turn you into a frog.”
Collins blanched. “Could she do such a thing?”
“Not at all. I understand she prefers to turn people into hedgehogs.”
Collins paled but then squared his shoulders. “She would not do such a thing. Miss Elizabeth is my betrothed!”
Darcy’s head was suddenly untethered from his body—as if it could simply float away.
This could not possibly be true. Elizabeth had accepted this man’s offer?
He had been certain she would refuse—for no good reason save that Elizabeth was a clever person and Collins was not.
However, she had no other suitors, and Collins would inherit Longbourn.
No doubt she had experienced great pressure from her mother.
Had she told her parents that Darcy had compromised her?
Perhaps they had insisted that she marry immediately.
Darcy took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He ought to congratulate Collins, but he might choke on the words. Instead he wanted to grab the man by his cravat and demand how he believed he might deserve Elizabeth.
He had the sense of having missed an opportunity he had not been sure he wanted. Will I live with regret for the rest of my life?
He did not know how he managed to remain upright or how he mustered a smile for Elizabeth when her footsteps crunched on the gravel of the garden path.
“Mr. Darcy!” she said. “Good day.”
“Good day, Miss Elizabeth. May I offer you my wishes for your future happiness?”
Her brows drew together. “Certainly. Has anything in particular occasioned these felicitations?”
“Y-Your engagement to Mr. Collins,” Darcy said, looking from her to the parson.
She directed an icy glare at the other man. “I have already refused his offer upon half a dozen occasions. I do not know why he would tell you such a story.” Darcy’s entire body went weak with relief.
“I prefer to remain optimistic,” Collins said, drawing up to his full, not-very-impressive height.
She scowled. “There is optimism, sir, and then there is fantasy.”
Collins sidled up to Darcy and murmured, “Already I perceive some softening in her attitude toward me.”
Darcy was starting to find the encounter diverting. “Exactly how rigid was her attitude at the start?”
Elizabeth turned to the parson. “You had promised to listen to Mary play on the pianoforte. She is awaiting you in the music room.”
Darcy held up the book he had brought as a prop. “Might we discuss the magical theory I had mentioned?”
“That would be delightful.” Elizabeth regarded Collins sternly. “Mary is waiting.”
He blinked owlishly at her. “I suppose I did promise. I must defer the pleasure of reading the remainder of the sonnet to you until this evening.” He turned to Darcy.
“I have not had an opportunity to tell you the details of your aunt’s health, but perhaps over dinner.
” Darcy managed a nod. Finally, the man departed, mincing his way toward the back door of Longbourn.
“I am in your debt for the timely intervention,” Elizabeth said. “Mr. Collins’s ideas about courting are…unique.” She gestured to the ivy covering the pathway. “I hope the garden gnomes are not too upset.”
Chuckling, Darcy took a seat on the bench. “Does he sincerely believe himself to be attached to you?”
“He is sincerely attached to his supposed duty to marry one of my father’s daughters.” She did not sit but walked toward a rose bush kept alive by ether, admiring its blooms. Perhaps she is keeping her distance?
“Surely one of your sisters would be better suited to the role of a clergyman’s wife.” With the exception of Miss Mary, the Bennet sisters were uncommonly pretty. Collins would never find such an attractive wife under other circumstances.
Elizabeth snorted. “I would not inflict him on one of my sisters. I do love them, after all. But I cannot imagine you came to Longbourn to hear about Mr. Collins’s doomed courtship.
” She did not meet his eyes. “My containment spell is complete. I have practiced it several times and am confident it will serve our purpose.”
Darcy grimaced. He could easily imagine all the things that could go wrong with a goblin summoning. “I would like to delay performing the ritual. There have been no attacks for nearly a week. Perhaps they have ceased altogether. The summoning might be an unnecessary risk.”
She still kept her gaze averted. “Perhaps that is for the best. Meeting with you alone is not in my best interests.”
The words sliced into Darcy. “Miss Elizabeth, I must apologize again for the—”
“There is no need for another apology,” she interrupted. “But we should not linger here.” She gestured toward the house. “I would surmise that the rest of your party has arrived. Perhaps we should join them.”
“Yes, of course,” Darcy responded automatically as he stood. He did not fault her for her caution, but had his ill-considered kiss killed their budding friendship? He cursed himself for his lack of control.
***
Mr. Darcy followed Elizabeth into Longbourn and appeared amazed to discover that the carriage from Netherfield had not yet arrived.
They joined her mother, sisters, and Mr. Collins in the drawing room as they awaited the other guests.
Her father had taken to avoiding Mr. Collins by hiding in his study. Fortunate man.
Her cousin sat beside her and would not cease talking. “This room is quite comfortable. Not as fine as what one would encounter at Rosings Park. You will see, my dear, how everything of Lady Catherine’s is the height of elegance.”
“I do not know when I will have an opportunity to discover that,” she said.
He patted her hand in a placating manner as Mr. Darcy’s eyes followed his every move. “When we are married.”
Elizabeth gritted her teeth. “You forget, sir, that I have not agreed to marry you.”
Mr. Collins smiled and nodded amiably as if her refusal was somehow a minor impediment to his future happiness. Her mother watched them avidly, perhaps believing that showing sufficient approval would cause Elizabeth to ignore how repulsive she found the man.
On the other side of the room, Lydia was using her magical talents to make Kitty’s embroidery hover just out of reach.
Kitty had complained to their mother once, only to be told to hush.
Lydia was actually quite a strong mage. It was a shame she did not possess a better outlet for her talents to alleviate her boredom.