Chapter 3 #3
Greetings were exchanged, then Darcy glanced at Elizabeth once again and noticed her face frowning in some sort of panic. He looked around and spotted Mr Collins approaching him, bent over, with an expression of awe. He took a step back, wondering what was going on.
“Mr Darcy? Mr Darcy of Pemberley? The nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh?” Mr Collins enquired with increasing wonder.
Darcy took another step back. “How may I help you, sir?” he asked.
“This is indeed almost the most extraordinary day of my life, except one,” Mr Collins continued. “I have the great honour of being under the patronage of Lady Catherine de Bourgh and I am happy to inform you that her ladyship was in perfect health when I left Rosings.”
Darcy looked at the man with repugnance. “I am glad to hear that,” he said bluntly.
“Mr Darcy, Mr Bingley, allow me to introduce you to our cousin, Mr Collins,” Mr Bennet interjected.
“I am so honoured to meet you! I was given the living of the parish of Hunsford and Lady Catherine did me the great favour of taking me under her wing...”
“That was very fortunate, I imagine,” Darcy attempted to stop his effusions, but Collins was not to be deterred from the object of his adoration.
“Words are not enough to express my gratitude for her ladyship and my delight in meeting her nephew! I know how much her ladyship praises you, Mr Darcy…She always said …”
“Mr Collins!” Darcy interrupted him with a thundering voice, eager to close the conversation. “It would be impolite of us to speak a moment longer of my relatives, of myself or of any other subject that is of no interest to the rest of our companions.”
“I humbly beg to differ, sir. I am sure my fair cousins are willing to hear as much as possible of Lady Catherine…”
“Mr Collins!” Darcy interrupted him again. “Trust me, nobody is willing to hear so much about a complete stranger. Besides, I understand that you have already shared quite a lot of information about my aunt. I doubt anybody was left wanting on this subject.”
Mr Collins appeared lost. His face showed his disturbance and his struggle between praising his patroness further and contradicting her nephew.
Darcy’s harsh yet amusing intervention surprised Elizabeth.
Once again, she had discovered a glimpse of the character of the aloof gentleman that she had not suspected before.
Each of their meetings allowed her to sketch parts of his character but she had been unable to link them together yet.
The notion that he refused a conversation about his titled aunt, to the benefit of the Bennets’ sanity was diverting, intriguing and contrary to what she expected of him.
Mr Collins was ready for another try, but Elizabeth spoke quicker.
“The stories about Lady Catherine were lovely,” she said, attempting to call a truce. “However, perhaps a more neutral subject could be found. What if we speak of books. Or theatre?”
“Oh, this is so boring!” Lydia interrupted. “I want to go to Meryton!”
“Lydia, please!” an embarrassed Jane discreetly scolded the youngest Miss Bennet, who responded with a shrug and a dismissive wave of the hand.
“I want to go to Meryton too,” Kitty supported her younger sister. “The regiment is in town and there is always something fun to do or someone amusing to talk to!”
“And yet, you will both stay at home and bear our boring company,” Mr Bennet declared, raising even more opposition.
The argument between the youngest Miss Bennets and their father became awkward for the others, who kept glancing at each other.
Lydia’s lack of respect and Mr Bennet’s apparent indifference and mockery spoke much of the young girl’s manners and of Mr Bennet’s parenting skills. The host, however, seemed untroubled.
“Mr Darcy, Mr Bingley, would you like a drink?” he invited his guests while ignoring his young daughters. “And Mr Collins too,” Mr Bennet eventually added.
“A drink would be lovely,” Bingley mumbled. Darcy only nodded in acceptance.
“Excellent. Let us retire to the library and allow the ladies some time to themselves,” Mr Bennet continued. “We have had enough arguments for one morning. Please follow me.”
“I agree,” Collins spoke again. “Lady Catherine always says that a glass of brandy is acceptable for a man. She kindly offers me one each time I have the pleasure of visiting her.”
He continued to jabber and Darcy sighed in exasperation while his annoyance increased.
He briefly caught Elizabeth’s laughing eyes and he unwillingly smiled at her.
He thought he noticed a trace of a blush on her cheeks and a strange heat ran through his body.
Did she blush because of his smile? Was she as affected by his presence as he was by hers? Had he betrayed his preference for her?
He had no time to think further, busy following Mr Bennet to the library while trying to ignore Mr Collins’ repeated mentions of Lady Catherine’s name. He wondered about the coincidence of Elizabeth’s cousin living in the proximity of his aunt. It was just another tie to keep him attached to her.
Would he ever be capable of distancing himself from her completely? Would he be able to cut the bond that he felt strengthening between them with every meeting, every glance, every smile?
And if he were to depart from here, would he be allowed to forget her?
Would he have the power to do so, when he so readily agreed to visit her, despite his own resolution to stay away from her?
Sitting in the small library with her father, enjoying his drink and absently responding to some questions from his companions, he could think of nothing else but Elizabeth’s crimson cheeks and her sparkling eyes.
∞∞∞
“We stayed almost two hours,” Bingley said on the road from Longbourn to Netherfield.
“Yes,” Darcy admitted briefly.
“Did you enjoy your time? Mr Collins was a true annoyance for you, I can tell.”
“Mr Collins is a very peculiar sort of man. I hope to spend little time in his company in the future. But yes, I did enjoy the visit. You must have noticed that I did not intend to leave.”
“Indeed. You seem to approve of Mr Bennet. Am I wrong?”
“You are not wrong. His manners are not always what propriety might require, but he has a special sense of humour and excellent knowledge of the world. And his collection of books is small but rich.”
“He seemed happy with our visit.”
“Yes,” Darcy smiled. “It provided him with an escape from Mr Collins’ sole company. It must be a daunting task for Mr Bennet to bear a man with so little sense and no humour.”
They rode on in silence at a steady pace for some time, then Bingley spoke again. “Darcy, do you still believe Miss Bennet is indifferent to me?”
Darcy breathed deeply, choosing his words carefully.
“Bingley, I spent only a few minutes with the ladies today. I barely observed Miss Bennet and she hardly spoke more than a few words. How could I have changed my opinion? But truly, I feel you are not being honest either, not with me, with her or with yourself.”
Bingley stopped the horse and turned to his friend in complete puzzlement.
“What on Earth could you possibly mean?”
“You were angry earlier today at me and your sisters for expressing our unfavourable viewpoint regarding you and Miss Bennet. And now, you keep asking what I think, as if you are uncertain of your feelings and are trying to put the burden of your decision on my shoulders.”
Disbelief twisted Bingley’s features and his eyes opened widely in dismay.
“I am not doing any such thing!”
“Then what are you doing, Bingley? I have already told you what I believe and that upset you. I cannot conceal my opinion to please you, nor adjust it to your liking. It is you who must assess the situation properly and choose what is best.”
Bingley stared at him, lost and dumbfounded, attempted to reply, then suddenly spurred on his stallion and started to gallop, leaving his companion behind.
Darcy watched him depart, hesitated a moment, then directed his horse down another road. He needed more time to himself, alone with his own thoughts–and surely so did Bingley.