Chapter III #3
Miss Elizabeth’s manner charmed Darcy all over again. “We spoke something of what my sister might find at Longbourn, Miss Elizabeth. But that is not all.”
“My brother related some amusing anecdotes in his letters to me,” said Georgiana.
Darcy was certain Miss Elizabeth held back a gasp by the force of will alone. “Then when we were speaking at Netherfield while you were writing your sister, you were writing of me?”
“Not you only,” replied Darcy, heartened by how this conversation had proceeded. “But yes, I related something of what we spoke.” Turning to his sister, Darcy added: “The conversation about accomplishment.”
As he expected, Georgiana giggled. “Oh, yes, I remember. I wish I had been there to witness it, for it sounds most amusing. But that is not the only time my brother wrote of you to me.”
“That is surprising,” said Elizabeth, uncertain how to interpret this intelligence. “Then you were not always looking at me to find fault?”
“If one can find fault with you with a moment’s casual observation,” said Mr. Darcy, “I invite them to try. I never considered you anything other than an excellent woman.”
This conversation had all the characteristics of a farce. As Elizabeth regarded Mr. Darcy, she noted how earnest he was in regarding her, how he appeared determined that she believed him. Considering what happened at the assembly, she thought to try him a little, for he must remember what he said.
“Then I thank you for it, Mr. Darcy. There was a time when I thought I was not tolerable enough to tempt anything other than contempt.”
The way Mr. Darcy paled, Elizabeth was certain he recognized the reference. His consternation told her that for whatever reason he might have spoken those words, he did not, at least at present, still believe them. Thus, she spoke to forestall any apology that would mortify his feelings.
“For my part,” said she, turning back to Georgiana, who appeared to sense some meaning she did not understand, “I always considered your brother an intelligent man, though I know he is reticent.”
“Reticence is a family curse, Miss Elizabeth,” said Georgiana, dropping her gaze to the floor.
“And yet,” replied Elizabeth, charmed by her manners, “you have spoken most charmingly. I hope we shall be good friends.”
“I am certain we shall,” replied Georgiana, mustering a warm smile.
How they might have got on thereafter, Darcy could only speculate, for their reprieve from the odious Mr. Collins ended at that moment.
“Mr. Darcy!” exclaimed he as he inserted himself into their midst. “How wonderful it is that you introduced your dear sister to my cousin! Why, they appear to be fast friends already. I must credit your excellent sister for this, for I am certain any relation of my patroness must have her gift for setting others at ease.”
Darcy wondered if Collins was speaking of the same woman Darcy had tolerated all these years. Lady Catherine set others at ease? She was far more likely to set them on edge with her autocratic ways!
“It is all Miss Elizabeth’s doing,” said Georgiana, her usual shyness returning with the parson’s intrusion. “I have never spoken with someone with such cheery manners as Miss Elizabeth.”
“Oh, without a doubt!” exclaimed Collins. “I was just about to say the same thing myself!”
Darcy rather doubted that, but the parson did not allow him to speak.
“I am certain, Mr. Darcy, that I shall appreciate your society in the future, for it appears my cousin and your excellent sister are to become excellent friends. Given my position with Cousin Elizabeth, I am certain you will wish to associate with us in the years to come.
“In fact,” said he, sidling closer to Darcy while ignoring Miss Elizabeth’s hard glare, “should you feel the need to claim our constant society, you might persuade me to change residences. I am certain the living you have in your gift must be as fine as Hunsford ever was!”
Georgiana stared at Mr. Collins, eyes wide with shock, and Darcy reflected that Miss Bingley should have worried about the parson’s behavior rather than that of Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia.
Miss Elizabeth’s glare had, if anything, grown more poisonous, such that Darcy was certain she was on the edge of saying something caustic.
For Darcy’s part, he was ready to throttle the man, if only to silence him.
It was fortunate an interruption arrived at that moment.
“Mrs. Bennet,” came Bingley’s voice, “my sister and I should like to invite you and your family to Netherfield on Christmas day to partake of the cheer of the day with my family. Please say that you will come.”
“What an excellent notion!” exclaimed the Bennet matron, her significant glance at her eldest daughter leaving no one in any doubt of her opinion of the reason for Mr. Bingley’s invitation. “We shall be happy to join you. Of course, we have a houseguest at present . . . .”
“Mr. Collins is welcome to join you, of course,” said Bingley.
“I thank you for my part, Mr. Bingley,” said Mr. Collins, offering a low bow. “I should like nothing better than to spend Christmas with your excellent family. If through the course of the day, a certain desirable event comes to pass, I shall be most obliged to you for providing the opportunity.”
The way Collins’s piglike eyes darted to Miss Elizabeth, the hunger in them almost provoked Darcy to call this toad of a man out.
Miss Elizabeth, however, ignored him, turning back to Georgiana.
They conversed together, doing their best to avoid or ignore Collins, and Darcy did his best to distract him.
Though he was not at all pleased with Collins, the sequence of events satisfied Darcy.
The pieces were in place. He only needed to move them about to ensure Miss Elizabeth considered him a desirable marriage partner rather than the oaf Collins.