Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
“You need not fear it. The elder Mr. Collins was indeed the heir, but he died several months ago, though we did not hear of it until recently, and his son has succeeded to his place in the entail. None of us had ever met the younger Mr. Collins before yesterday, though I assure you he has already made himself perfectly acquainted with his future interest in Longbourn.” Her eyes brightened with amusement.
“He is a clergyman, excessively fond of his own consequence, and possessed of a patroness whose opinions he repeats with such frequency that I begin to wonder whether the poor lady ever enjoys the liberty of having an opinion without its being repeated throughout Kent.”
“A patroness in Kent?” Darcy's brow furrowed.
“Yes. One Lady Catherine de Bourgh, of Rosings Park. She presented him with his living, and he appears never to have recovered from the honour.” Elizabeth glanced towards him.
“You are acquainted with a considerably grander portion of society than I am, Mr. Darcy. Have you ever encountered the lady?”
Of all the names Darcy had expected to hear upon Oakham Mount that morning, his aunt's was not amongst them.
“I know her rather better than a mere encounter would suggest. Lady Catherine is my aunt. She was my mother's sister.”
Elizabeth's eyes widened. “Your aunt?”
“Yes.”
“We have spoken of my family and yours several times, sir. I do not remember your ever mentioning a Lady Catherine,” Elizabeth observed, her curiosity plainly roused.
Darcy looked out over the valley. His connection with Lady Catherine was no secret, nor had he consciously intended to conceal it from Elizabeth.
Yet he had avoided speaking of Rosings whenever the opportunity arose, chiefly because any mention of his aunt inevitably threatened to lead towards Anne and the expectations which had caused the breach between them.
“I ought perhaps to have mentioned the connection before now,” he said. “I did not because my aunt and I have not been upon the easiest terms of late, and I have found very little pleasure in speaking of the cause.”
“I am sorry. I had no intention of touching upon anything painful.” She reached towards him and rested her hand briefly upon his shoulder.
Darcy stilled beneath the unexpected touch. It remained only a moment before Elizabeth withdrew her hand, yet the warmth of it seemed to linger considerably longer.
“You could not have known.” Darcy hesitated only briefly.
If he meant to ask Elizabeth for permission to address her seriously, there could be no advantage in allowing her to remain ignorant of Lady Catherine's expectations.
“My aunt has long entertained the conviction that I shall marry her daughter, Anne. She maintains that such a union was intended by our mothers almost from our infancy. Whatever wishes they may once have expressed between themselves, I have never considered myself bound by an arrangement to which neither my cousin nor I ever gave our consent.”
“And Lady Catherine believes otherwise?”
“Very decidedly. Some months ago she pressed the matter beyond what I was prepared to tolerate, and I told her plainly that I had no intention of marrying Anne merely to satisfy an expectation formed without consulting either of us. My aunt did not receive the declaration with equanimity.”
“I cannot imagine that she did, if Mr. Collins's descriptions of her are even half accurate.” Elizabeth was quiet for a moment. “Is that why you have not seen her since?”
“For the most part. We correspond when necessity requires it, but I have not visited Rosings since our disagreement.” Darcy turned towards her again. “I would rather you knew the truth of the matter now than have you wonder at my silence when your cousin inevitably discovers the connection.”
Elizabeth considered him before inclining her head. “Then I am glad you have told me. Though I confess I am now considerably more curious about a lady who could arrange the marriage of two infants and remain surprised when one of them grows old enough to object.”
Darcy could not prevent a faint smile. “You would find the reality considerably less diverting than the idea. My aunt does not encourage opposition.”
“Then Mr. Collins must be the ideal clergyman for her. He has shown no inclination whatever to oppose anything she has ever said. Indeed, he speaks of her with such reverence that I have begun to wonder whether his sermons contain more references to Lady Catherine than to scripture.”
Darcy laughed, more freely than he ordinarily did, and was rewarded by the answering brightness of Elizabeth's expression.
He had missed this. Several days without her company ought not to have mattered so much, yet sitting beside her again made the interval seem considerably longer than it had been.
Her expression grew more thoughtful. “It occurs to me, however, that Mr. Collins did not travel all the way from Kent merely to admire Longbourn and assure Mama that her furniture will not descend to him with the estate. I believe he means to marry one of us.”
Every trace of Darcy's amusement disappeared. Surely he had misunderstood her. He turned towards Elizabeth, searching her expression for some indication that she was merely amusing herself at his expense.
“Does he?”
He was faintly surprised by the evenness of his own voice.
The idea of Collins entering Hertfordshire with the deliberate intention of selecting one of the Bennet daughters was disagreeable enough.
The possibility that his selection might fall upon Elizabeth produced an emotion considerably less reasonable.
“Papa's estate is entailed upon him, and Mr. Collins has written at considerable length of his desire to make amends for the unfortunate circumstance. Apparently, he considers marrying one of Papa's daughters the most suitable means of accomplishing it.”
Darcy looked at her. “And has he already determined which of you is to receive this... amends?”
Elizabeth laughed. “You sound doubtful of his ability to decide so quickly.”
“It has been scarcely a day since his arrival. I should hope even Mr. Collins requires rather longer than that to determine whom he wishes to marry.”
“You give him too much credit. I suspect the identity of the lady is of rather less consequence to him than the suitability of the arrangement.” Elizabeth considered the matter.
“He first appeared greatly struck by Jane, but Mama has already declared her quite beyond his reach on account of Mr. Bingley's attentions. He then showed rather more interest in me than I found comfortable, until Mama interfered there also.”
Darcy's hand tightened upon his knee.
Mr. Collins had been at Longbourn for scarcely a day and had already transferred his matrimonial interest from the eldest daughter to Elizabeth. Darcy knew the absurdity of resenting a man whose attentions Elizabeth plainly did not welcome, but knowledge did very little to improve his temper.
“She has now directed him towards Mary,” Elizabeth continued, apparently unaware of the precise affect her account was producing. “Mary is, according to Mama, the only daughter entirely unclaimed.”
“And upon what grounds did Mrs. Bennet consider you claimed?”
The question escaped more quickly than Darcy intended. His thoughts had gone at once to Mr. Sotherton, and the possibility that Mrs. Bennet might still favour the man's suit produced a degree of displeasure wholly disproportionate to the few seconds in which he entertained it.
Elizabeth turned her head towards him, her eyes bright with amusement. “Upon the strength of your attentions to me, I believe. You must learn to be more cautious, Mr. Darcy. Mama has built marriages upon considerably less encouragement.”
For a moment Darcy could only look at her.