Chapter 7
Elizabeth had scarcely time to compose her features before she was ushered into the parlour. There stood Mr Darcy and another gentleman, with Mr Collins already deep in the effusions of welcome, Sir William and Maria just watching in solemn silence.
Charlotte remained beside her husband, expressing her delight to the illustrious guests; Elizabeth smiled to herself, musing that Mr Collins’s pompous manners had proved to be contagious for his wife.
Mr Darcy inclined his head with formal civility, then introduced his cousin. Colonel Fitzwilliam stepped forward at once, his countenance open and good-humoured.
“Thank you for your warm welcome, Mr Collins, Mrs Collins. I am delighted to make your acquaintance. Sir William, Miss Lucas, how lovely to see you well recovered after your illness.”
“How very kind of you, Colonel! We are as healthy as possible, as I assured Lady Catherine. You have no reason for concern.”
“Oh, I am not concerned at all,” the colonel answered, taking a seat while Mr Darcy chose another one close to the window. “My aunt tends to exaggerate in matters of health. She wishes to protect Anne.”
“Lady Catherine has every right to be concerned and to shield Anne from any danger,” Mr Collins readily agreed. “But I trust another examination from Doctor Linfield will prove my father and sister are in good health now.”
Then the colonel turned towards Elizabeth.
“Miss Bennet! I am delighted to make your acquaintance at last. My cousins have spoken of you so often that I feel we have already been introduced.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I hope Miss Darcy’s reports are good enough to compensate for the severity of Mr Darcy’s.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed outright, glancing at his cousin with frank surprise.
“Severity? I assure you, Miss Bennet, I have heard nothing but good things from both Darcy and Georgiana, some of them intriguing enough to make me most curious to meet you in person.”
Mr Darcy’s colour rose slightly, but he said nothing. Elizabeth met his gaze for a brief moment and found it unreadable. She wondered whether the colonel’s easy praise embarrassed him or whether he simply disliked the subject of their previous encounters being raised so freely.
Charlotte, ever the careful hostess, ordered refreshments.
Mr Collins seized the opportunity to enumerate the many advantages of the parsonage and the unparalleled condescension of Lady Catherine, while the colonel listened with polite attention and Mr Darcy with the appearance of one who had heard the speech before.
Sir William and Maria were still in silent awe. Elizabeth smiled.
When a momentary pause allowed it, Charlotte turned to Elizabeth with genuine curiosity.
“I hope such a question is not improper, Eliza. Was it mentioned that you are acquainted with Miss Darcy? I was not aware you had met her.”
“I did, less than a fortnight ago. She is indeed one of the loveliest young ladies one can imagine, not to mention kind and considerate,” Elizabeth replied, ready to recount the accidental encounter in Hyde Park and the subsequent invitation to tea.
But before she could speak further, Mr Darcy interjected, his voice calm and measured.
“The encounter between my sister and Miss Bennet was a fortuitous one, Mrs Collins, and it has had a pleasant outcome. Georgiana was glad of the acquaintance.”
He spoke with careful neutrality, offering no further detail.
Elizabeth regarded him in silence for a moment, struck by a sudden understanding.
He was deliberately keeping the circumstances of their meeting private — the near-accident, the introduction through Mrs Gardiner’s connection to Lambton, the growing friendship that had developed so quickly.
He did not wish the particulars known. A sharp little conviction settled in her mind: he was ashamed of the connection — or at least disapproved of it.
Perhaps he considered a friendship between his sister and the daughters of a country gentleman to be beneath the dignity of Pemberley.
The thought stung more than she cared to admit.
Colonel Fitzwilliam continued with cheerful frankness.
“And it is not only my cousins who have spoken well of you, Miss Bennet. Bingley, too, has given a most glowing report of both you and your sister. He recently mentioned to me how much he valued the renewal of your acquaintance. Indeed, he seemed quite animated upon the subject.”
Elizabeth was warmed by this intelligence. “Mr Bingley is very kind. My sister and I have always thought him an excellent friend.”
“An excellent fellow altogether, and a loyal friend to Darcy,” the colonel agreed.
“Mr Bingley’s loyalty deserves consideration,” Elizabeth answered. “Though some people seemed to take his kindness as weakness.”
Again, her words seemed to affect Mr Darcy, who glanced at her, and their eyes locked briefly. His expression tightened almost imperceptibly. Elizabeth caught the change and wondered what private knowledge lay behind it.
She recalled Miss Bingley’s fury in Miss Darcy’s drawing-room and Mr Bingley’s open astonishment at finding Jane in town. Mr Darcy must have been aware of her sister’s presence there — even Miss Bingley had suggested as much.
The conversation continued in a pleasant enough way.
Colonel Fitzwilliam proved an easy and engaging talker, drawing both Charlotte and Elizabeth into a discussion of the neighbourhood, the relative merits of town and country, and the peculiarities of military life.
Mr Collins contributed more than was required on every subject; Mr Darcy spoke seldom and Sir William and Maria even less.
Though she enjoyed the colonel’s company exceedingly, Elizabeth found herself watching Mr Darcy more often than she intended, trying to guess the thoughts that lay behind that composed exterior.
Several times, their eyes met across the room.
On each occasion she looked away first, unsettled by the intensity of his regard.
Was he measuring her against some private standard of suitability for his sister’s friendship?
Did he regret the introduction that Miss Darcy had so warmly pursued?
Mr Darcy was clearly not a man one could easily read.
How could he be so different from his sister and his cousin the colonel?
At length, after a proper amount of time dedicated to a first call, the gentlemen rose to take their leave. Colonel Fitzwilliam expressed the hope of seeing them again soon; Mr Darcy bowed with formal correctness, his farewell brief and unsmiling.
Elizabeth returned the civility with equal composure, though her mind remained busy with unanswered questions. As the two gentlemen walked down the garden path towards their horses, she stood a moment at the window, watching them go.
Charlotte came to stand beside her.
“Well, Eliza? What do you make of our distinguished visitors?”
“The colonel is all that is amiable,” Elizabeth replied thoughtfully. “As for Mr Darcy — I confess I find him more difficult to read than ever. I wonder why he would take the trouble to pay visits, when such activity seems appalling to him.”
Mr Collins, returning from the gate where he had lingered to offer a final bow, interrupted their exchange with fresh raptures upon the honour of the visit.
Elizabeth listened with half an ear, her thoughts still occupied by the look in Mr Darcy’s eyes and the careful words he had chosen to describe a meeting that had, for her, meant far more than a mere accident.
“Dear cousin,” Mr Collins addressed her, “it is not for us to judge anything Lady Catherine’s nephews might do. It will simply not do! As for Mr Darcy, Lady Catherine often says he is one of the best young gentlemen our country has!”
“Miss Eliza had always been very opinionated, and she and Mr Darcy have never been on the best of terms,” Sir William interjected. “It must be from the time he refused to dance with her. However, I remember a time when Mr Darcy asked you to dance, Miss Elizabeth, and you refused him!”
Mr Collins stared in disbelief and horror. “Excuse me? You refused Mr Darcy? Cousin Elizabeth, if Lady Catherine ever finds out about this—
“There is nothing to find out, Mr Collins,” Elizabeth answered with some severity.
“The instance Sir William mentioned was just a joke. I am absolutely certain Mr Darcy had no intention to really dance, so my refusal offended nobody. Rest assured that I have no desire to contradict Lady Catherine’s excellent opinion about Mr Darcy. ”
For the rest of the day, all conversation focused upon Mr Darcy and the colonel; Mr Collins prayed that an invitation to Rosing would arrive soon, before Sir William departed from Kent.
Just before dinner, Doctor Linfield arrived for another examination, and his reports put everyone at ease.
“I shall inform her ladyship immediately that there is no sign of infection left,” the doctor concluded, and Mr Collins responded with endless thanks and repeated bows.
Elizabeth shared little of the others’ enthusiasm about Rosings.
From the little she had seen of Lady Catherine, she found her unpleasant, arrogant, and ready to force her will upon those around her.
Miss Darcy certainly did not resemble her and, from Mrs Gardiner’s narrations, neither did the late Lady Anne.
Mr Darcy was another story; though he did not so obviously overpower other people as his aunt, he probably possessed the same tendency in imposing his will whenever an opportunity arose.
That must be one of the reasons he had insisted on separating Mr Bingley from Jane; what an irony that it was his own devoted sister who had been the means of repairing what the gentleman had broken.
As for Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst, they would hardly survive the tragedy of being scolded by their brother and knowing that Miss Darcy had visited the Gardiners! The image of their distress afforded Elizabeth that she utterly relished.
As for Mr Darcy, he certainly had not much power left over Mr Bingley in regard to Jane; but was he aware of his sister’s visit to Gracechurch Street?
***
Elizabeth slept little and ill that night and woke up very early in the morning. A sense of restlessness, caused by questions with no answers, troubled her, and she decided a little exercise before breakfast might help her.
As she had recently arrived in Kent, she was not quite familiar with the area, but she decided to take the path that followed the edge of the park, towards a grove that appeared to provide some privacy.
Although she did not concur with much of what Mr Collins had said about Rosings and its owner, she had to agree in regard to the beauty of the park and the manor. The parsonage itself was placed in a beautiful spot that would surely enhance Charlotte’s life.
“Miss Bennet?”
She startled and turned abruptly at the call, only to see Mr Darcy on his horse. She stopped and so did he; then he dismounted.
“Forgive me. I hope I have not scared you?”
“A little, but I shall recover soon,” she jested.
“Are you alone?” he asked, glancing about.
“Yes. I was in need of some fresh air, but I shall return before breakfast.”
“I see…”
“And you, sir? Is Colonel Fitzwilliam with you?”
“No…used to a life in the army, my cousin likes to sleep late whenever he can,” he said with a little smile.
“Nobody could blame him, I am sure…”
“May I…would you mind if I keep you company?” he offered, taking her by surprise. “Or do you prefer the solitude?”
She hesitated a moment, as she was in no particular disposition for his presence. However, such an opportunity might not arise again any time soon, and her curiosity was greater than her discomfort.
“Your company would be welcome, thank you.”
They took a few steps, then she enquired directly, “How is Miss Darcy? As well as she was when I last saw her, I hope?”
“She is very well, thank you.”
“I could not help but notice you do not wish to reveal the particulars of my meeting with her. Have no concern — I shall keep the secret,” she added with some harshness.
He turned to look at her, and she met his puzzled gaze.
“Why would I be concerned? It is not a secret. My cousin and his parents know about it. I did not reveal all the details to your cousin or to Lady Catherine because once my aunt knows about it, you will be forced to bear her endless enquiries.”
That answer and his genuine tone disconcerted her, and she averted her eyes. Had he done it out of politeness? Had she been wrong in her judgment?
“Oh…I thought…”
“You thought?” he repeated.
“I thought you wished to keep the secret because you disapprove of your sister’s acquaintance with us,” she finally burst out.
She looked at him intently; his frown increased while his expression turned darker.
“Why would you assume I disapprove of it?”
“Come, Mr Darcy, let us be honest with each other,” she replied boldly.
“We all know that you utterly disapproved of our family, that you always had something to criticise about us, and that you insisted on Mr Bingley leaving Netherfield. Surely you cannot deny that you and his sisters deceived that gentleman about Jane’s presence in town. ”
Her words seemed to cause a tumult that turned him pale.
He opened his mouth but said nothing, only stared at her.
Her eyes locked with his, daringly, in a silent challenge.
Was she wrong in confronting him? Perhaps.
But if he insisted on keeping her company, he should be able to handle the consequences.