Chapter Ten
T he next day, Lady Catherine did her best to throw Mr. Darcy and her daughter together at every opportunity. When Mr. Darcy entered the breakfast room, he was told that he must wait until Anne arrived before food would be served; thus, he waited an hour for Anne to make her way downstairs, still yawning, before he was allowed so much as a slice of toast.
Then Lady Catherine insisted that the two of them go on a drive together. Mr. Darcy acquiesced, though he demanded that they be accompanied by a maid or a footman, so as to avoid any possibility of a compromise. Anne’s maid, Hilda, joined them. Despite Hilda’s presence, Mr. Darcy tried to speak with his cousin about their situation.
“Anne, why do you want to marry me?”
“My mother wants me to.”
“But do you want to?”
Anne shrugged. “I suppose I have to marry, so it may as well be you.”
“Is that a good enough reason to marry, Anne? Do you not wish for affection?”
She turned to him in exasperation. “Cousin, what would you have me do? My mother is insistent that I marry; I know no one, as we go nowhere and we have no visitors. You and I hold cousinly affection for one another; that will have to be enough.”
“Anne, affection aside, do you have any idea what the mistress of Pemberley must do each day? You have heard me speak of what my mother’s duties; do you believe you are able to fill her shoes?”
“Cousin, my mother hires and fires servants, but she does not do any of those other tasks. My mother says that a competent housekeeper can do all those other things and that your mother wears herself out for no reason.”
Mr. Darcy had to stop himself from grinding his teeth. “And that is why Rosings Park is so badly run that the tenants leave whenever they can, and your mother’s expenses exceed her income. Are you not aware of Rosing’s precarious financial situation? Do you think I would allow that to happen to Pemberley?”
Anne looked away. It was clear that there was no point in pursuing the subject, so they both remained silent.
The drive tired Anne out, so upon their return, she went to her room for a nap. Mr. Darcy found the Colonel in the billiards room.
“Are you ready?” the Colonel asked.
“I am,” Mr. Darcy replied, and the two made their way to the parsonage. Mr. Collins was absent again, and Mrs. Collins was clearly very nervous upon seeing them in her home yet again, but her inherent good manners made it impossible for her to do anything but offer them every courtesy.
Miss Bennet joined them in the parlour. She had already learnt their tea preferences, and so assisted Mrs. Collins in serving them. Mr. Darcy asked about her home – Longbourn, was it not? – and soon discovered that Miss Bennet, unlike Anne de Bourgh, had been trained to understand the needs of an estate. She and her elder sister, the new Mrs. Bingley, had been visiting tenants since they were young girls. Miss Bennet had also taken on the responsibility of managing the household budget, as her mother did not enjoy the task. The more he spoke with her, the clearer the difference between Miss Bennet and Miss de Bourgh became.
And she was playful, as well! She taught him a game that she and her father played. “We call the game First Line,” she said. “Each player recites the first line or sentence of a book or poem and the other players try to guess it. I shall begin with an easy one that you will have no trouble recognising. When shall we three meet again, in thunder, lightning or in rain? ”
“ The Tragedy of Macbeth , of course,” Mr. Darcy said, immediately.
“Very good; now you quiz us.”
He thought for a moment. “ Boatswain! Here, master; what cheer? ”
“ The Tempest ,” she said. “Too easy! Now then, prepare yourself for a more difficult challenge. God moves in a mysterious way, his wonders to perform .”
“Cowper,” he said.
“Of course, but the name of the poem?”
Mr. Darcy’s mind was blank; surprisingly, it was the Colonel who said, “ Light Shining out of Darkness .”
Elizabeth laughed and applauded. “Well done, Colonel!”
Mr. Darcy stared at his cousin. “How could you know that?”
“Think you that military men cannot read, Darcy?” the Colonel retorted.
“Of course, I do not think that, but…”
“As it happens, my batman is very fond of poetry, and reads it aloud whenever there is a quiet moment. I have become quite fond of Cowper.”
“Colonel, it is now your turn to stump us,” Elizabeth said.
“Very well.” He thought for a moment, and then recited, “ When do I count the clock that tells the time ?”
It was Mr. Darcy who quickly said, “Sonnet number twelve. My turn, I believe? Beware, Miss Bennet, I shall stump you now. Having read with great pleasure a pamphlet, which you have lately published, on National Education, I dedicate this volume to you –“
Elizabeth interrupted with glee. “Oh! Oh! A Vindication of the Rights of Woman ! Well done, Mr. Darcy, I would not have thought you familiar with that work!”
He smiled at her. “And I should not have been surprised that you do.”
Elizabeth said, “My turn! I was born in the year 1632, in the city of York, of a good family, though not of that country, my father being a foreigner of Bremen, who settled first at Hull .”
It was the Colonel who replied this time, smiling widely. “ Robinson Crusoe. A most excellent tale.”
Elizabeth was delighted. “You are both worthy contenders in our game! My father would be pleased to test his mettle against either of you.”
Mrs. Collins interrupted them. “My husband will be home soon; I am certain he will wish to pay his respects to you.”
Mr. Darcy saw Miss Bennet start nervously. “Alas, I believe we must depart now,” he said, hastily.
The two gentlemen bowed and prepared to take their leave, but they had not been fast enough, as Mr. Collins entered the parlour before they could make their way out. Mr. Collins looked at Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam in amazement and then bowed low. “Gentlemen! You honour my humble home! I confess that I am surprised to see you here.”
Mr. Darcy answered quickly, “Ah, I have only recently learnt that Miss Bennet’s elder sister is now the wife of my good friend, Charles Bingley. It seemed only right to pay my respects to Miss Bennet, and ask that she pass on my congratulations to the happy couple.”
They spoke about Charles Bingley and his new wife for another quarter of an hour before Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam took their leave.
***
The moment the visitors left the parsonage, Mr. Collins swung around to face his wife. “Why would they come again? Escorting Cousin Elizabeth home was reasonable, but why were they here again today?”
“They came to speak about Charles Bingley; there was no harm in it,” Mrs. Collins protested.
“No harm? Did you not see that Lady Catherine took a dislike to Cousin Elizabeth? We have discussed this at length, Mrs. Collins!”
“What has that to do with Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam coming here for tea? Lady Catherine was not in attendance.” Mrs. Collins defended her guests.
“You do not think that they come to visit with Cousin Elizabeth?” Mr. Collins asked, wringing his hands.
“Absolutely not,” Charlotte said, staunchly.
Elizabeth stepped forward. “Cousin, I assure you that nothing improper has occurred here. The Colonel has not the means to marry, and certainly Mr. Darcy would not stoop so low as to be interested in me. Lady Catherine is undoubtedly wise enough to understand that, particularly if he is engaged to her daughter.”
This stopped Mr. Collins cold. “You are right, Cousin Elizabeth. I spoke out of turn. I apologise if I offended you in any way.”
“No matter, Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth replied. “And I am sorry if I have done anything to injure you in Lady Catherine’s eyes; I assure you that I did not intend to upset her ladyship.”
“You have done nothing wrong, Eliza,” Charlotte said, staunchly. “It is not your fault if Mr. Darcy was inattentive to Miss de Bourgh, thereby making Lady Catherine angry. Mr. Collins, surely you can see that Eliza has nothing with which to reproach herself.”
“As long as she is not attempting to attract Mr. Darcy’s interest, ” Mr. Collins insisted.
Elizabeth excused herself, saying that she would rest before dinner.
Alone in her room, now that Maria had moved into the other guest room, she considered Mr. Collins’ words. Was she attempting to attract Mr. Darcy’s interest? She knew him to be a very intelligent, well-read man, and he was quite handsome in a dark, brooding sort of way – very unlike the cheerful, open-face of Charles Bingley – and he was certainly wealthy enough to support a wife and children. Honestly, who would not be attracted to such a man?
***
At dinner that night, Mr. Darcy remembered to ask the question that had niggled at him since his arrival at Rosings. “Aunt, what became of Mr. Partridge?”
“Who?”
“Your butler before Mr. Morton.”
Lady Catherine shrugged. “He was old and moving too slowly to suit me.”
“And what was done for him in his retirement?”
“I do not have the pleasure of understanding you, nephew.” Lady Catherine’s tone was severe.
“Did you give him a pension?”
“Certainly not; I let him go!”
“What?! With no pension, after having been your servant for – what, forty years?”
“I am not obliged to provide pensions to servants. They should save their money and take care of themselves!”
Mr. Darcy did not bother to respond.