Chapter XII #2
“Mr. Collins mentioned that himself,” agreed Miss Elizabeth. “Since Jane was, at the time, enjoying Mr. Bingley’s company, I, as the next eldest, was elected the fortunate recipient of Mr. Collins’s compliments.”
“That is quite droll, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Harrington. “Tell me, was the vote conducted in secret?”
“It was quite secretive, Mr. Harrington,” said Miss Elizabeth, her enjoyment in the tale evident in her shining eyes. “As I recall, it was unanimous, though as the only person voting was my mother, that is to be expected.”
“And you made this Mr. Collins’s acquaintance?” asked Harrington.
“That is perhaps beyond the mark,” said Darcy, finding as much enjoyment in the tale as Miss Elizabeth.
“Collins approached me during a ball Bingley hosted, but he did not ask for an introduction. He was, however, pleased to tell me that my aunt and cousin were in the best of health when he departed Kent.”
“That is admirable,” said Harrington, shaking his head in wonder. “I have heard stories of your aunt, but I never expected her to be this ridiculous.”
“Trust me, Harrington—you have no notion.”
“The day after the ball,” continued Miss Elizabeth, “Mr. Collins approached my mother, and after receiving her consent, he laid his heart—if that is what you want to call it—before my feet. I will note that our acquaintance was a matter of nine days.”
Miss Elizabeth shook her head at the memory, her previous exasperation now mixed with diversion.
“He proceeded to state his reasons for marrying: that he thought it right for every parson to set the example of matrimony, that he thought it would increase his happiness, and, though he should have mentioned it first, that it was the express wish of his great patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
By this time the entire company was in stitches, even Miss Bennet, to whom Miss Elizabeth had already related the particulars in full, or so Darcy supposed.
For his part, Darcy regarded her with wonder, her brightened eyes and grinning face ever more appealing as she related this mortifying experience.
Had Darcy considered matters more carefully, he might have spared her all of it.
“That sounds like a faithful portrayal of your aunt, Darcy!” exclaimed Harrington.
“It is but a trifle,” said Darcy.
“Now we come to the point,” said Miss Elizabeth.
“When I informed Mr. Collins that I would not accept him, he did not believe me.
Instead, he suggested I was trying to increase his imaginary love by suspense, and when I persisted, he said, with absolute confidence, I might add, that I must accept him because it was unlikely I should ever receive another offer of marriage.
“Mama was in hysterics, Mr. Collins was growing indignant, so my mother accosted my father, determined to induce him to intervene.”
“As you are unmarried, your mother did not prevail,” said Harrington.
“No, she did not,” agreed Miss Elizabeth.
“Papa called me into his study, told me that my mother insisted I marry Mr. Collins—my mother told him if I did not, she would never see me again. Then my father, with his usual wit, declared that I must be a stranger to one of my parents—my mother had already made her sentiments known, but if I married Mr. Collins, then I would never see him again.”
Again the room erupted in laughter. Darcy did not know Mr. Bennet well; while he did not suppose the man’s behavior was at all proper, his sense of sarcastic humor was a match for Darcy’s.
Miss Elizabeth shrugged as if the matter did not concern her. “Mr. Collins was so disappointed by my rejection that he waited two whole days before proposing to my closest friend. I will note that until the night of the ball, he had not so much as encountered her on the street.”
“That is admirable, Miss Elizabeth,” said Harrington. “Thank you for this lively tale—I have not been so diverted in a fortnight.”
“It is curious that Miss Lucas accepted him with such alacrity,” said Darcy. “I had always thought her a rather sensible woman.”
“Well, marrying Mr. Collins was not the most rational thing she has ever done,” replied Miss Elizabeth.
Then she softened, though she was anything but indifferent.
“You must understand Charlotte, Mr. Darcy. She was seven and twenty and had no prospects. Though it surprised me to learn she had accepted him, she soon made her sentiments clear. She calculated the benefits of a situation with a fool against becoming a spinster and made her choice accordingly.”
Harrington regarded her with compassion, his mirth now gone. “You could never have made that choice.”
“I rejected it, Mr. Harrington,” said Miss Elizabeth. “And I would do it again.”
Miss Elizabeth turned back to her aunt, arching an eyebrow.
“Thus, you have your answer, Aunt. I do not seek to increase any gentleman’s love by suspense, but having rejected one suitor because he professed imaginary love, I must take care to ensure that any man who presents himself does so in command of his feelings. ”
Mrs. Gardiner reached across and took Miss Elizabeth’s hand. “Yes, Lizzy, I understand you very well, indeed.”
The door knocker announced the arrival of more visitors, and Darcy, suspecting who it was, glanced at Harrington.
His friend returned it and offered a minute shrug, which Darcy accepted.
There was little to be done regardless—they would not slink out the back like thieves in the dark to avoid Miss Bingley.
“Are you expecting anyone in particular, Mr. Darcy?” asked Miss Elizabeth.
When Darcy turned to regard her, he noted her curiosity mixed with archness.
“You saw my exchange with Harrington?”
“Most count me as an observant woman,” said she.
Darcy chuckled and nodded. “Expecting no, though I should have expected you to notice everything. Do Bingley and his sister visit every day?”
Miss Elizabeth’s glance heavenward diverted him all over again. “Every day that she can drag him here. Jane and I visited often when we first arrived in London, but we have not gone of late. Their visits have also grown less frequent.”
“Then Bingley has drawn back,” said Darcy with a nod. “That is for the best.”
There was no more time for conversation, as the housekeeper led Bingley and his sister into the room as Darcy had expected. Bingley’s features lit up with recognition the moment he entered the room, but Miss Bingley showed surprise, then suspicion.
“Mrs. Gardiner,” said he, addressing the mistress first as was proper. “It appears your sitting-room has become quite popular.”
“Such august personages,” said Mrs. Gardiner with an exaggerated expression of wonder. “You all do me great honor.”
“I think, Mrs. Gardiner,” said Harrington, though he was looking at Miss Bennet, “it is the honor of your house and those staying here that draw us.”
“Jane dearest!” exclaimed Miss Bingley, desperate to reclaim her authority. “How wonderful it is to see you!”
The woman glanced at her brother. “Charles and I have been desolate without your company!”
“Miss Bingley,” said Miss Bennet, her response containing nothing of pleasure. “Please sit with us.”
Though she lost no time in doing that, Darcy noticed her again glancing at her brother, then at Harrington, the former with pleading, the latter with exasperation.
Harrington knew what she was about, of course, but he had no intention of surrendering his position next to Miss Bennet.
Bingley, in direct contradiction to his sister’s wishes, joined Darcy and Miss Elizabeth.
Darcy knew the moment he did that Miss Elizabeth was about to release her wit.
“This is most curious, Mr. Bingley,” said she. “I cannot reconcile who between you and your sister finds Gracechurch Street more agreeable.”
Though Bingley’s amusement showed, it contained a definite rueful quality. “At the moment, I should have to say Caroline,” said he, “though I would not insult your excellent sister.”
“Do not concern yourself, Mr. Bingley,” replied she, all trace of mirth fading. “Jane and I know something of your dilemma.”
Bingley regarded her sharply. “What do you mean?”
“Miss Whitcombe, Mr. Bingley,” said Miss Elizabeth, trying to project sincerity. “Jane and I have made her acquaintance.”
The blood ran away from Bingley’s face, and he gaped at her. “You know Clara?”
“We do.”
Bingley appeared unable to respond, so Miss Elizabeth took pity on him. “Aunt Gardiner and I were walking in Hyde Park, and we happened to see you with her. Thereafter, we met her at a gathering to which my aunt was invited—their social circles overlap.”
An explosive breath was Bingley’s response, and he appeared a little shamefaced. “Perhaps I should have spoken to Miss Bennet, but I never knew what to say.”
“Considering your sister invited us to town without your knowledge,” said Miss Elizabeth, “the blame is not your burden.”
Bingley was shaking his head before she finished speaking. “It is good of you to absolve me, Miss Elizabeth, but I know the truth. This is hardly the moment to speak of it, but be assured that I shall address Miss Bennet when the time is right.”
“That is for the best, Mr. Bingley,” said Miss Elizabeth. “You owe me nothing, but Jane would appreciate an explanation.”
“And she shall have it,” said Mr. Bingley with a decisive nod.
“Jane, Miss Eliza,” said Miss Bingley, pitching her voice so everyone in the room could hear it, “I have received an invitation to a ball next week at the house of a close friend of mine. I requested, and received permission to invite you, if you would be so good as to attend.”
Miss Elizabeth’s gaze shifted to Miss Bennet, who nodded. “Of course, Caroline. We should be happy to attend.”
“Excellent,” said Miss Bingley. “Charles, Hurst and Louisa will also be in attendance.”
Then she turned to Darcy. “Will you also attend, Mr. Darcy?”
“The Davidson ball?” asked Darcy. When she nodded, Darcy returned the gesture. “It is on my desk. I have not yet accepted, but Davidson is a good friend, so I shall attend.”