Chapter 18 Peril and Partnership
by Louise Bigler
Hunsford, Kent
Elizabeth’s mind wandered as her cousin droned on from the pulpit.
It had been difficult to concentrate on his Easter sermon the first time she heard it.
Currently, she had far too much to think of.
Perhaps if he were actually speaking of the Easter message, it might have been easier.
Her current predicament gave a whole new meaning to the power of the Almighty.
Hopefully, she would finally be able to bring Jane and Bingley together.
Observing the Rosings pew, was it only her newfound perspective, or did Mr Darcy look less haughty alongside his cousins?
Contemplating his aristocratic nose, his sculpted sideburns, and his strong jaw, Elizabeth was reminded of how attractive he was.
The only softness was his full lips. Why am I dwelling on his lips?
As she considered his hair and elegant cravat, his head turned.
There was no mistaking the warmth in his eyes as he looked upon her, or the way one side of his mouth quirked in a slight smile.
His gaze held hers until Lady Catherine leant forwards, her bearing stiff and her posture erect.
Elizabeth hastily returned her attention to the hymnal on her lap, striving to keep it there. Her mind would not stay fixed on the sermon. Her concentration kept wandering to the Rosings pew, and she was discomfited to find Mr Darcy glancing in her direction more than once.
Upon returning to the parsonage, Mr Collins questioned her on the sermon, and for the first time, she was glad she had been forced to listen to his sermon more than once.
He seemed to vacillate between being pleased that his message had been so well received and quite put out that she could answer correctly.
His demeanour did not improve until they were preparing to depart for Rosings.
The prospect of being once again in the presence of his patroness pleased him greatly.
With even more than his usual pompous air, he led the group to Rosings.
Lady Catherine received them politely in the drawing room.
Yet, Elizabeth felt that, despite her Ladyship’s evident attention to her nephews—especially Mr Darcy—Elizabeth herself was the true object of her scrutiny.
As usual, Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed glad to see her.
He sat beside her and talked with so much spirit as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine as well as of Mr Darcy.
His eyes repeatedly turned towards them, and Elizabeth felt herself drawn towards him in return.
Soon, Lady Catherine was overcome with curiosity and interrupted the colonel. “What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? I must have my share of the conversation.”
And so the conversation continued until coffee was over and the colonel reminded Elizabeth of her promise to play on the pianoforte. Mr Darcy joined them, and Elizabeth found herself distracted by the hint of humour on his countenance.
“Mr Darcy, I give you fair warning. Do not be so ungenerous as to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire—for I may retaliate, and such things may come out as will shock your relations.”
Mr Darcy replied, “I am not afraid of you. You could not really believe I entertain any thoughts of alarming you. Further, I admitted to my cousin that my behaviour in Hertfordshire merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.”
Elizabeth concentrated on her playing to hide her surprise. Contrition from Mr Darcy without prompting? Without privacy? Perhaps she, too, could move things along despite the audience.
“We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that visit,” said Elizabeth. “The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable. But since then, we have both, I hope, improved in civility.”
Elizabeth met Mr Darcy’s gaze and felt something pass between them.
Elizabeth was not sure what was different this time, but she was confident they would succeed in reconciling Jane and Bingley, and in protecting Meryton and its inhabitants from Wickham.
She was sure her joy was reflected in her smile.
When they had been silent too long, the colonel began a lively discussion of what Elizabeth should play next.
They were joined by Lady Catherine, who radiated disapproval as she sharply critiqued Elizabeth’s playing.
Then, although her Ladyship’s carriage was ready to take them all home, Mr Collins remained in conference with Lady Catherine.
How different this Easter is becoming from my memories of Rosings.
Once Mr Collins joined them in the carriage, he spoke to Eizabeth, “Lady Catherine has generously condescended to encourage your exercise. She has assigned a footman to attend you through the park each morning.”
Charlotte’s brow creased as she took Elizabeth’s arm. Her touch seemed to implore Elizabeth to comply with her Ladyship’s plan.
“Each day, he will escort you to a different point of interest that Lady Catherine has condescended to choose for you. He will then either return you to the parsonage or to Rosings to practice upon the pianoforte there.” His self-satisfied smirk bordered on cruel.
For once, her wit failed her, and Elizabeth could think of nothing polite to say in response, so she merely nodded. Charlotte gave her a quick smile of thanks.
Elizabeth’s early optimism—that she and Mr Darcy could quickly reunite Jane and Bingley, resolve the matter with Wickham, and free her to consider whether her friendship with Mr Darcy might grow into something more—had completely vanished.
Clearly, Lady Catherine had noticed her improved manner towards Mr Darcy and was preventing her from being in Mr Darcy’s presence.
It was now the end of the fourth day since Easter, and she had yet to speak to either Mr Darcy or Colonel Fitzwilliam.
As she stared out into the inky blackness beyond her window, Elizabeth’s thoughts were fixed entirely on how to escape the quagmire her visit had become.
For while she would delight in besting whatever schemes her cousin and his patroness were planning, she also needed to protect Charlotte from further censure.
Almost every night since Easter, she had heard her cousin rant to Charlotte.
When he was particularly strident, phrases such as “young woman of inferior birth,” “lost to every feeling of propriety and delicacy,” “You have brought this viper into our home” and “I am ashamed of you” could be heard.
Jones, the swaggering footman assigned to attend her on her walks, clearly had a role to play.
He did not look like the other Rosings footmen.
He was stocky with meaty hands and a jagged nose.
Jones tended to linger at the parsonage both before and after her walks.
Sally, Charlotte’s maid of all work, nearly jumped out of her skin every time she saw him.
Rather than trail discreetly behind Elizabeth, Jones walked at her side.
She wondered what kind of impression his gestures and tendency to lean towards her might give to all those observing them.
There seemed to be a whole cast of characters observing them.
Mr Collins would watch from his garden. Those working the grounds seemed to note their movements.
To complete the set, either Colonel Fitzwilliam or someone in Mr Darcy’s livery remained within hailing distance, seemingly going about some other task.
Even within the parsonage, the servants seemed attuned to her every activity.
Maria seemed to sense the tension and stayed near Charlotte, so it was rare for Elizabeth to speak only to her friend.
Charlotte confessed that all of Elizabeth’s letters were to be given to Mr Collins, but she volunteered to write any message to send on her behalf.
Only here in her room was she free from scrutiny.
Was this a matter of someone’s amusement?
She looked to the grate where she burned an anonymous note that she found hidden in the music the day before, while practicing in Mrs Jenkinson’s room.
In a simple script, the note revealed that footman Jones had joined Mr Collins for his daily consultation with Lady Catherine.
“When passing by the closed door, I could not help but overhear her Ladyship proclaim that ‘your upstart cousin’ should be ‘censured, slighted and despised.’ ”
The letter continued, “I exhort you to shorten your visit without involving your host or the footman Jones. They remained in conference together long after Lady Catherine departed the room. The servants will witness everything coming in and out of Rosings, including the other servants. If you need urgent assistance, I have listed a few tenant families below who can help. I know there are others here at Rosings whom you might wish to turn to, but they are so closely watched that anything they do is likely to inflame the situation further.” Elizabeth was unsure how much to trust the note.
Regardless of the sender’s motives, its mere existence unsettled her greatly.
In a fleeting moment of privacy, she asked Charlotte to contact her uncle to arrange her early return to London.
Elizabeth hoped she did not have long to wait to hear from her uncle. Tomorrow, she would decline to walk. She would ask Charlotte about the tenant families mentioned in the note. It would give her a sense of how much to trust the anonymous writer.
Darcy paced the length of the billiards room. The sound of his heavy tread contrasted with the clack of the billiard balls as the colonel played.
“Do take pity on the carpet and cease worrying.”