CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
For some time, Darcy could not bring himself to speak to Miss Elizabeth.
He envied his cousin’s trips to the Parsonage and had been sorely tempted more than once to join the Colonel.
His cousin had looked baffled enough when Darcy declined, no doubt wondering why he was choosing the company of Lady Catherine over the company of a lovely and articulate young woman.
Darcy knew it was Miss Elizabeth, and not the virtues of anyone else, who drew his cousin to the Parsonage.
Though Lady Catherine would not have objected to the visits, Darcy was disinclined to provoke her after upsetting her with his call to Trenwith House.
As he had predicted, when he had returned that evening, he was summoned to Lady Catherine’s anteroom and received her caution and advice in full.
Having spent two hours formulating her case, she was more superfluous than ever in her argument.
He had listened to her politely and attentively, and had not been moved to speak a word till she had mentioned that she had advised Miss Elizabeth Bennet of the same and was satisfied that the young woman had taken her counsel.
“Miss Bennet?” Darcy echoed, his heart stalling.
Having delivered the bulk of what she had to say, Catherine finally partook of the tea beside her and replied, “Yes, the one staying with Mr. and Mrs. Collins. A bit headstrong, that Elizabeth Bennet, but at least she had the sense to see the effect her continued acquaintance with Abby Trenwith would have upon her friends and family.”
Too preoccupied with the intelligence he had just been presented, he made no remark that Mrs. Trenwith was not as highly disregarded as Catherine’s own opinion would have her believe. He had held to a small grain of hope that his pupil at Trenwith House was not Miss Elizabeth.
“How is Elizabeth Bennet acquainted with Mrs. Trenwith?” he wondered aloud.
“I know not the particulars, but that Abby Trenwith dared pay a visit to Miss Bennet at the Parsonage. If the woman had a generous bone in her body, she would leave decent folk alone. What matter of business did she require of you?”
“It is a private matter,” he said.
Catherine knit her brows together with a frown, but it was not her place to question her nephew further.
Instead, she said, “I hope, in the future, that Abby Trenwith would have the civility to request the assistance of another. She is too fortunate that yours is a most giving spirit. You ought not to allow her to trespass upon your benevolence further. That woman knows no bounds. I must warn Mrs. Jenkinson, should Trenwith dare approach Rosings, to keep my daughter at a safe distance. I hope you will assist in protecting your cousin from that woman?”
“I doubt Mrs. Trenwith to have any inclination to come to Rosings, but, if it is within my power to ensure the two never meet, I will endeavour to do so.”
Satisfied that his answer bespoke his willingness to assent to all of her counsel, Catherine intended to proceed to happier topics, but, citing the late hour, Darcy excused himself.
In the quiet of his own room, the full weight of the evening sank in. The woman, his pupil, was Elizabeth Bennet.
Elizabeth Bennet.
No oath could do justice to what he felt.
The coincidences were far too many. He recalled his conversation with Abby, who had acknowledged knowing Miss Elizabeth but revealed nothing more, her omittance no doubt intended to protect Miss Elizabeth.
Nonetheless, it had not occurred to him then that she could have easily relieved him, without jeopardizing the identity of any other party, by rejecting his suspicions had he been in error. But she had not.
He put his head in his hands. The situation was terrible.
Given his response during the lesson, he was more deeply attracted to Miss Elizabeth than ever.
He knew now he desired her in every way.
Every movement of hers, every sound she uttered had ignited his desire.
And watching her spend had made his lust surge.
He wanted to do more with her, to her—in part because he would not do anything for himself.
Not until he had returned to his own room at Trenwith House did he attend to his own needs.
He remembered every inch of her. He had caressed every inch of her.
Touched and kissed her most intimate parts.
Only her maidenly sanctum remained pristine.
What a wretched soul was he! He had seduced a good and decent young woman.
Abby would have protested that he had given his pupil a gift, but he felt he had received the greater privilege.
Abby would admonish him for his qualms and disparate treatment of Miss Elizabeth, but such was the benefit of anonymity.
“She made the choice. Would you condemn her decision?” he could imagine Abby saying.
Of course not. But it was a dangerous journey for a young woman to make.
Convinced of the merits of her efforts, Abby weighed the risks a little too lightly for his comfort.
Perhaps it was fortunate, and not merely a cruel trick of Fate, that he was the instructor for Miss Elizabeth.
He knew not the other instructors Abby employed.
They might not take as much care in protecting their pupils.
This conclusion appeased him greatly. Nonetheless, he found it difficult to be in the company of Miss Elizabeth, knowing that he had seen her naked and that she had submitted her body to him.
However, he could not eschew her presence forever.
An invitation had been extended and accepted by the Collinses and their guests.
Lady Catherine received the party civilly in her drawing-room, but it was plain that their company was by no means so acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and she was, in fact, almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person in the room.
Though her gown was not nearly as stylish as that of Miss de Bourgh, Darcy thought Miss Elizabeth looked absolutely engaging. A few curls of her dark hair framed her round face, and a touch of rouge upon her lips was the perfect adornment to her bright countenance.
Darcy noted the look of genuine pleasure upon his cousin as he greeted the guests.
Mrs. Collins’s pretty friend had caught his fancy very much, Darcy thought a bit wryly as he watched the Colonel take a seat beside her.
Darcy was not a jealous man, but he envied his cousin.
He could not help looking in their direction repeatedly.
Miss Elizabeth seemed greatly entertained by what the Colonel was saying.
The two conversed with so much spirit and flow as to draw the attention of Catherine, who did not scruple to call out,
“What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is."
"We are speaking of music, madam," said he, when no longer able to avoid a reply.
"Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight.
I must have my share in the conversation if you are speaking of music.
There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste.
If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient.
And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply.
I am confident that she would have performed delightfully. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?"
He gave her an affectionate account of his sister’s proficiency. Feeling the gaze of Miss Elizabeth upon him as he spoke, he turned in her direction. She looked away and exchanged a smile with his cousin.
"I am very glad to hear such a good account of her," said Catherine, "and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel if she does not practice a good deal."
"I assure you, madam, that she does not need such advice. She practices very constantly."
"So much the better. It cannot be done too much, and when I next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account.
I often tell young ladies that no excellence in music is to be acquired without constant practice.
I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will never play really well unless she practices more; and though Mrs. Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the pianoforte in Mrs. Jenkinson's room.
She would be in nobody's way, you know, in that part of the house. "
Uncomfortable with his aunt's ill-breeding, he made no answer.
He tried not to make his study of Miss Elizabeth too obvious, but he had little interest in attending to anyone else.
Though he was convinced of her attendance at Trenwith House, he wished he could have the whole picture.
He wanted to know how and why she had made the decision to become a participant?
He had received notice yesterday from Abby confirming a third lesson.
Never had excitement been so tortuous and fraught with such turmoil.
When coffee was over, Fitzwilliam reminded Lizzy of having promised to play to him, and she sat down directly to the instrument.
He drew a chair near her. Catherine listened to half a song, and then talked, as before.
But Darcy had no ear for her. His thoughts had turned to Miss Elizabeth at every free moment the past few days.
He had denied himself her presence long enough.
With his usual deliberation, he made for the pianoforte and stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer's countenance.