Chapter Five #2
The teasing was typical of Fitzwilliam, meant in good humour. But Elizabeth’s reaction was not typical. Instead of joining the gentle mockery or defending Darcy with some arch comment, she made a small sound of impatience.
“Mr. Darcy’s conversation is always perfectly agreeable,” she said stiffly.
Darcy’s surprise deepened into something approaching alarm. Elizabeth defending him? Describing his conversation as agreeable?
Fitzwilliam raised his eyebrows, clearly caught off guard.
“Well, that is high praise indeed,” Fitzwilliam said, recovering his easy manner. “I am glad to hear it, Miss Bennet. Very glad. In fact, I had hoped you might be looking more kindly upon my cousin now, after the information you received about him yesterday.”
The words were delivered lightly, teasingly, but they struck Darcy like a blow. He turned to stare at Fitzwilliam, his mind racing. What information? What had his cousin told Elizabeth? When had they spoken privately?
“Information?” Darcy heard himself ask, his voice sharper than he intended. But before Fitzwilliam could reply, a new voice called out from behind them.
“Miss Bennet! Miss Bennet!”
They all turned to see Mr. Collins hurrying along the path toward them, his face red with exertion. Darcy felt his jaw tighten with fresh irritation at yet another interruption, though part of him welcomed the distraction from a conversation that had grown increasingly incomprehensible.
Collins reached them breathing heavily, his small eyes darting between Elizabeth and the two gentlemen with obvious disapproval. “Miss Bennet, I must speak with you immediately. Your behaviour this morning is quite inappropriate, and I cannot stand by silently while you compromise your reputation.”
Darcy felt his irritation transform into cold anger.
Collins had no right to address Elizabeth in such a tone, to publicly shame her for the innocent act of walking with gentlemen who were, after all, family connections of her hostess.
He opened his mouth to tell Collins precisely this, but Elizabeth spoke first.
“Mr. Collins,” she said, and her voice carried none of the spirit Darcy expected, none of the sharp defence of her own dignity. “I did not realise my walk would cause concern.”
The meekness of her response stunned Darcy into silence.
Elizabeth, who had never hesitated to defend herself against even Lady Catherine’s autocratic pronouncements, was submitting to Collins’s pompous censure without argument.
This was perhaps the wrongest thing yet in a morning full of wrongness.
Darcy exchanged a glance with Fitzwilliam, seeing his own confusion reflected in his cousin’s face. Something was very wrong here.
Collins drew himself up to his full height, which was unfortunately not particularly impressive, and continued his lecture with the sort of pompous authority that only the profoundly self-important could muster.
“Walking alone with two gentlemen, without proper chaperonage, without any consideration for appearances or propriety. I am shocked, Miss Bennet. Truly shocked.”
The man’s voice carried across the morning air with deliberate projection. Darcy felt his hands clench into fists. Collins had no right to speak to Elizabeth in such a manner, particularly not in front of others, particularly not when her behaviour had been entirely innocent.
“Mr. Collins,” Darcy said, his voice cold. “Miss Bennet’s behaviour has been perfectly proper. There is nothing remotely scandalous about walking with us on Rosings’ grounds.”
Collins turned to him, his small eyes bright with righteousness.
“With respect, Mr. Darcy, while I am sensible of your distinguished position, I must stand firm on matters of propriety. Miss Bennet is a guest in my house, and as such, her behaviour reflects upon my household. I cannot permit her to act in a manner that might invite censure.”
“There is no cause for censure,” Fitzwilliam interjected, his tone carrying an edge of impatience. “Miss Bennet encountered us during her morning walk. Surely even your exacting standards can accommodate such an innocent meeting.”
But Collins would not be swayed. He turned back to Elizabeth, his expression a mixture of paternal disappointment and stern authority. “I must insist that you return to the parsonage with me immediately. Mrs. Collins will be concerned by your prolonged absence.”
Darcy waited for Elizabeth to respond with her characteristic spirit, to inform Collins in cutting terms that she was perfectly capable of managing her own morning walks.
He expected her to turn the man’s pomposity back on him with some clever observation.
At the very least, he expected her to politely but firmly refuse to be ordered about like a wayward child.
Instead, she lowered her gaze to the gravel path and said, “I apologise, Mr. Collins. I did not mean to cause concern.”
The words hit Darcy like a physical blow.
He stared at her, this woman who wore Elizabeth’s face but seemed to have lost her spirit entirely.
The meekness in her tone, the submissive posture, the complete absence of the fire he had come to expect from her, all combined into something so wrong that he could barely process it.
“That is very good of you to acknowledge, Miss Bennet,” Collins said, his tone softening into something approaching smugness. “I am pleased to see you recognise the wisdom of accepting guidance. Now, if you will come with me...”
He extended his arm toward the parsonage, the gesture more command than invitation.
Elizabeth glanced once at Darcy, her expression unreadable, before stepping away from his side.
She offered him and Fitzwilliam a small curtsey, murmuring something about thanking them for their company, her voice so quiet that Darcy could barely hear it.
“Miss Bennet,” Darcy said, desperately searching for some way to prevent this, to give her an excuse to remain. “Perhaps we might continue our walk later, when you are less occupied.”
She looked at him for a moment, and something flickered in her eyes that might have been genuine emotion beneath the false pleasantness she had been displaying all morning. But it vanished quickly, and she shook her head.
“That is very kind, Mr. Darcy, but I think it best if I return to the parsonage now. Mr. Collins is quite right to be concerned.”
Collins made a satisfied sound and took her elbow, not roughly but with enough firmness to make clear he intended to brook no argument. Elizabeth allowed herself to be guided, falling into step beside him with a docility that made Darcy’s chest tighten.
They walked away down the path, Collins’s voice carrying back, delivering what sounded like a continued lecture about propriety. Elizabeth’s responses were too quiet to hear, but her posture spoke of submission.
Darcy watched them until they disappeared around the bend, his mind refusing to accept what he had witnessed.
Everything about the encounter had been wrong.
Elizabeth’s warmth toward him, her coldness toward Fitzwilliam, and now this absolute capitulation to Collins’s pompous authority.
None of it matched anything he knew of her character.
“Well,” Fitzwilliam said beside him, breaking the silence. “That was decidedly odd.”
Darcy turned to look at his cousin, seeing his own confusion reflected back. “Odd does not begin to describe it.”
“Collins is insufferable, of course, but that is hardly news.” Fitzwilliam frowned in the direction they had gone.
“What troubles me more is Miss Bennet’s behaviour.
She has never struck me as someone who would allow herself to be bullied by the likes of Collins.
Yesterday she would have told him precisely what she thought of his interference, and done it with enough wit to leave him speechless. ”
Precisely what Darcy was thinking. This morning, she had acted like someone else entirely.
But that was impossible. People did not transform overnight. Even illness could not explain such a complete reversal of character. Yet what other explanation existed?
“Something is wrong,” Darcy said quietly, more to himself than to Fitzwilliam.
“I would say so,” his cousin agreed. “Though I cannot determine what. Perhaps her illness affected her more than we realised? Can a fever cause such changes in temperament?”
Darcy shook his head slowly. “I have never heard of such a thing. And she claims to be fully recovered, shows no signs of continued illness. She walked with energy, spoke clearly. If anything, she seemed healthier than I have seen her before.”
They stood in silence for a moment, both staring down the path where Elizabeth and Collins had disappeared.
The spring morning continued around them, oblivious to their confusion.
Birds still sang. Sunlight still filtered through the leaves.
Everything was normal, except for the one thing that mattered most.