Chapter Eight #2
It would be preferable to claim a headache and return home. If the Bennet carriage could not take her, she could walk. Her mind decided, Elizabeth rose and made her way to the door. She would leave the ball and never have anything to do with Mr. Dee/Darcy again.
He could not be trusted.
***
Darcy gritted his teeth throughout his two sets with Miss Bingley.
She chattered on about mutual acquaintances, the shocking gossip from London, and her great pleasure at his company.
She required only the minimum of participation from him, so his thoughts were not much engaged.
It was unsupportable to exchange Elizabeth’s conversation for this.
How was fate so cruel as to condemn him to such misery when he had been so close to experiencing such joy?
It was a relief when he made his final bow to Miss Bingley and escaped with the excuse of needing to find the privy.
When he returned to the ballroom, he sought out Elizabeth, eager to claim the dances he had promised her.
The ball was quite a crush; he maneuvered through the crowds slowly, searching for any sign of Elizabeth.
Only once he had circumnavigated the entire room did he realize she was not present.
Where had she gone?
Darcy cast about for any member of the Bennet family.
Mrs. Bennet or Jane would be most likely to know Elizabeth’s whereabouts and most inclined to treat Darcy civilly.
Unfortunately, Mrs. Bennet was deep in a knot of chattering matrons, and Jane was dancing with an officer.
Mr. Bennet, however, was unengaged and watching the dancers.
Darcy did not wish to have that discussion, but he needed to locate Elizabeth. Bennet regarded Darcy rather coldly as he approached. “I was seeking Miss Elizabeth,” he said without preamble. “I had promised her a dance.”
The other man’s eyebrows rose. “Apparently she did not believe she had promised one to you. She returned home with a headache.”
Darcy’s heart fell into his shoes. Not only was he deprived of his long-anticipated chance to dance with her, but now he could not explain himself either.
He could hardly hasten after her to Longbourn.
Now that his true identity was known, he was the object of no small interest at the ball, and his absence would be noted.
Worse, they would have few chances for private discourse after he relocated to Netherfield.
Bingley had already sent a footman to collect Darcy’s things from Longbourn.
“That is a shame,” Darcy said. “I hoped to speak to her.”
“I daresay she has no wish to speak to you.” Bennet’s tone of voice could have frozen water.
Darcy took a deep breath. “Mr. Bennet, please believe that I did not set out to deceive your family. There are good reasons I needed to conceal my identity.”
The other man snorted. “No doubt.”
“There are things I cannot tell you—”
“Yes, yes. Go explain them to your friend Bingley.” He gestured toward the dance floor.
Darcy was tired of the man’s skepticism.
“You need not believe me, but you should at least believe that the wights were not a product of your imagination. Everything I did was designed to keep your family safe from the wights and other…creatures that sought me. If lies were required to keep innocent people safe, then I would tell them again.”
He turned on his heel and left a dumbstruck Mr. Bennet behind him.
***
Elizabeth’s family appeared to have taken the alteration in their erstwhile guest’s identity in stride.
Her mother was apt to view it as an opportunity and was only sorry he showed no particular interest in any of the Bennet daughters.
Elizabeth’s father grumbled whenever the man’s name was mentioned but was not inclined to take any action aside from complaining.
Lydia had always thought the man was boring, and Mary considered him insufficiently pious. Kitty was more interested in meeting Mr. Darcy’s cousin again. Jane was inclined to believe that their guest must have had good reasons for the deception and, naturally, held no grudge.
Elizabeth was alone in her anger and sense of abandonment. She poured out her heart to Jane. But her sister was caught up in the first blush of love for Mr. Bingley, and Elizabeth was unwilling to spill too much venom on her happiness.
All in all, Elizabeth eagerly anticipated the day when Mr. Darcy quitted Hertfordshire and she no longer need worry that she might encounter him on the streets of Meryton.
A diversion arrived in the form of her father’s cousin, a man they had never met before.
Mr. Collins, a clergyman from Kent, would inherit Longbourn upon their father’s death.
After reading his letters to her father, Elizabeth did not have high hopes of Mr. Collins’s intelligence, but she at least expected him to be amusing.
Within minutes of his arrival, Mr. Collins made it clear that his object in visiting was to choose a wife from among his cousin’s daughters.
Elizabeth’s mother quickly took him aside and related that she expected Jane to soon be engaged to Mr. Bingley.
Unfortunately, that meant his attention fixed on Elizabeth.
At dinner that evening, Mr. Collins maneuvered himself so that he might sit beside her. However, he had little interest in talking about Elizabeth herself. He dominated the conversation with descriptions of the land and house belonging to his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Elizabeth listened to the details of the lady’s mantelpiece, windows, and carpets with a sense of wonder…at Mr. Collins’s complete sycophancy to his patroness. Only when he mentioned that she was an accomplished mancer was Elizabeth’s interest piqued. “What is her mancy?” she inquired.
“She has telemancy,” Mr. Collins answered with no little pride in his voice. “And it is quite powerful. She can move large objects with the power of her mind alone. It is amazing to watch.”
“Are you a mancer yourself?” Elizabeth’s father asked politely.
“Indeed, I am,” Mr. Collins puffed out his chest. “And I have spent much time perfecting my powers, particularly so that they might serve the purposes of my noble patroness.”
“And what is your mancy?” her father asked.
“It is extremely unusual. Indeed, I believe it is unique. There is no word for it.”
Her father raised an eyebrow. “And what is it, pray tell?”
But Mr. Collins was not finished heaping praise upon his magic. “I have not heard of another soul possessing this awesome power.”
“Indeed?” Her father gave Elizabeth an amused look.
“Yes.” Their guest paused for effect. “I have the ability to instantly set any words to music.” When they did not react, he added, “Extemporaneously.”
Silence followed this declaration. Elizabeth did not quite know what to say.
It was generally accepted that most mancies were useful to the survival of the mage.
Such magics would allow individuals to hunt, fight, flee, or survive dangerous situations.
She did not understand how singing would do so, but people did occasionally possess odd magical abilities.
Mary appeared intrigued. “Any variety of music, sir?”
“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Any kind that is suited to singing. I could not, for example, set words to a symphony.” He chuckled.
“Upon what occasions do you find this talent useful?” her father asked.
“Lady Catherine finds it most pleasing and often calls upon me to demonstrate it in company. I often arrange little compliments for the ladies and find that singing them gives them additional gravitas.”
“I see,” her father replied, merriment dancing in his eyes. “I am certain that gravitas is exactly what they acquire.”
“And,” Mr. Collins continued, “When the spirit moves me, I sing my sermons in church.”
Her father’s lips twitched. “Do you?”
“Yes.” The other man puffed up his chest. “They call me the singing cleric of Kent.”
“I am quite sure Kent does not possess another one.”
“No indeed.” Mr. Collins gave a contented smile.
Elizabeth had managed to wrestle her incipient laughter into submission. “Might you be prevailed upon to give us a sample?”
Lydia gave her a horrified look.
“I do not desire to squander this gift,” Mr. Collins said primly. “I reserve its use for special occasions.”
Such as entertaining Lady Catherine’s guests. “I quite understand,” Elizabeth said.
“But you may be fortunate enough to hear a sample at some point,” he said enigmatically.
To Elizabeth’s ear, that sounded more like a threat than a promise.
***
When Mr. Collins was not unintentionally amusing, he was tendentious.
Partially to escape his stifling presence and partially to take her mind from Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth suggested a walk into Meryton the next day.
Unfortunately, their cousin was all too eager to join them.
Still, she took pleasure in the fresh air and set such a brisk pace that Mr. Collins found it easier to dawdle with Mary, boring her with tales of his patroness’s largesse.
Walking in silence beside Jane, Elizabeth’s thoughts inadvertently turned to Mr. Darcy.
At breakfast, her mother had relayed the information that apparently Miss Bingley had a secret understanding with Mr. Darcy.
Miss Bingley had implied as much to Mrs. Long when accounting for her possessive behavior at the assembly ball.
Mrs. Bennet was quite put out that Mr. Darcy had not informed her of this secret engagement.
This information only fueled Elizabeth’s anger at the man.
He had no business flirting with her if another woman had a claim on him!
For a brief shining moment, she had glimpsed a future in which she would not grow old on her father’s estate.
But it had all been an illusion—fueled by Mr. Darcy’s lies.