Thirteen
Longbourn
Elizabeth
As though determined that Elizabeth should devote herself entirely to Mr. Collins, Mrs. Bennet refused to permit her morning walk the following day.
Instead, she declared it far more proper that Elizabeth accompany their cousin, who had expressed a wish to see something of the neighbourhood.
A ramble with a gentleman, she insisted, was infinitely preferable to climbing a hill that nobody but Elizabeth herself had ever thought worth the trouble.
Elizabeth submitted with as much grace as she could command. Mary, Kitty, and Lydia, perhaps perceiving that she stood in need of rescuing, readily joined the expedition as they set out towards Meryton after breakfast, sparing her the necessity of bearing Mr. Collins's company alone.
He required very little encouragement to entertain them.
Rosings occupied the greater part of his conversation, Lady Catherine the remainder.
No subject, however ordinary, escaped comparison with his patroness's superior judgment.
Even the hedgerows bordering the lane reminded him of improvements Lady Catherine had once recommended to a neighbouring rector, while the management of Longbourn's gardens prompted a lengthy discourse upon the arrangement of shrubberies at Hunsford.
Elizabeth barely paid attention to all he said.
Her thoughts wandered elsewhere. More than once she found herself wondering whether Mr. Darcy had gone to Oakham Mount again that morning, only to discover it deserted for the second day in succession.
She could not suppose him so vain as to expect her attendance, yet neither could she dismiss the hope that he might wonder at her absence.
The inability to send him even the briefest explanation vexed her considerably more than she would have imagined possible only a fortnight before.
Their walk carried them past Meryton market, where Mr. Collins, learning that their aunt, Mrs. Phillips, resided only a short distance away, declared that family connexions ought never to be neglected and insisted upon paying his respects.
Mrs. Phillips received the unexpected party with evident surprise, though her welcome was no less cordial for being unlooked for.
"You have caught me sadly unprepared," she said with a laugh after they had been seated. "Mr. Phillips and I expect a few friends to tea tomorrow after church, together with several of the militia officers. If you girls have no other engagement, you must all come."
The invitation was accepted with particular delight by Lydia and Kitty.
Mrs. Phillips turned obligingly to their guest.
"And you also, Mr. Collins, if you should care to join us."
"Madam," said Mr. Collins, bowing with elaborate solemnity, "your civility does you infinite credit. I shall be honoured by your invitation, though I confess society at Rosings has accustomed me to a degree of elegance seldom encountered elsewhere."
Elizabeth fancied her aunt's smile became rather fixed at this declaration, but she answered with perfect composure, and before long the visit drew naturally to its conclusion.
They had scarcely gone a hundred yards from the house when Lydia uttered a delighted cry.
"Mr. Denny!"
She waved with such enthusiasm that every person in the street seemed obliged to look in the same direction.
Two officers approached from the opposite side of the road. One Elizabeth recognised immediately as Mr. Denny, of whom Lydia had spoken often enough these past weeks. The gentleman beside him, however, was a stranger, fair-haired, remarkably handsome, and wearing the same scarlet regimentals.
"Miss Lydia. Miss Catherine." Denny bowed to the company. "What good fortune to encounter you. Allow me to present my friend, Mr. Wickham, who has but lately joined our regiment. Mr. Wickham, these are the Miss Bennets of Longbourn."
Mr. Wickham bowed with an ease that immediately distinguished him from many men of Elizabeth's acquaintance. There was an openness in his countenance, and a warmth in his smile, that invited confidence almost before he had spoken.
"The pleasure is entirely mine," he said. "Denny has described Meryton to me in the most favourable terms, yet I begin to think he has been less than just to its greatest attractions."
Elizabeth could not help laughing.
"Then Mr. Denny has raised your expectations very high indeed, sir."
"I assure you, Miss Bennet, they have only now been properly fulfilled."
Mr. Collins received the introductions with considerably less animation than he had bestowed upon Mrs. Phillips.
His bow was perfectly proper, but entirely without warmth, and, having satisfied the demands of civility, he soon attached himself to Mary's side, where the conversation was less liable to interruption.
Elizabeth could not help suspecting the change had less to do with the officers than with the attention they received.
Lydia and Kitty had scarcely concealed their delight at the meeting, and she feared she herself had been scarcely more restrained.
Mr. Collins, who seldom objected to admiration when it was directed toward himself, appeared rather less disposed to admire those who had so effortlessly claimed it from others.
The officers, learning the party intended to return towards Longbourn, readily offered to accompany them as far as the turning in the road, an offer Lydia accepted before anyone else had leisure to reply.
The company soon stretched itself naturally along the lane. Kitty and Lydia walked before them with Mr. Denny, leaving Elizabeth almost without design beside Mr. Wickham.
"I have been in Meryton scarcely a week," he observed as they proceeded, "yet I have already found the neighbourhood remarkably obliging. A stranger could scarcely wish for a kinder reception."
"I hope you will continue to think so," Elizabeth replied. "Meryton is not a large place, but I believe it endeavours to be a friendly one."
"I have very little doubt of it now." He glanced towards her with an expression of easy good humour. "Indeed, I begin to think myself singularly fortunate in my posting."
Elizabeth found his manner surprisingly engaging.
There was nothing of Mr. Collins's solemn self-importance, nor of the studied politeness adopted by many gentlemen upon a first introduction.
He possessed the rare gift of making conversation appear entirely effortless, and before they had gone much farther, she understood perfectly why first impressions were so often formed in his favour.
"Well, I hope your fortune continues. Small towns like this often soon form opinions of newcomers.
" Elizabeth smiled. "Just less than a month ago, we had our assembly.
It is there that most newcomers are introduced to the society.
Had you been here, I dare say Meryton would have a verdict on you by now. "
"A verdict?" He smiled easily. "I wish I had come earlier, then, for it would have been wonderful to see the whole company assembled."
Elizabeth smiled in return.
"Denny made a point of telling me a great deal of what transpired at the event. I heard it was a wonderful one."
"Yes, it was." Elizabeth nodded. "It always is, to be honest, particularly when the newcomers prove agreeable."
"Ah, agreeability." He scratched his brow, as if trying to recollect something. "Denny, did not you mention there was one of the newcomers at the assembly who was decidedly unagreeable?"
Denny, who had been talking with Kitty and Lydia, glanced back over his shoulder. "Yes. Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire. He danced with no one, kept himself aloof all evening, and was even said to have slighted Miss Elizabeth."
"Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire?" Mr. Collins turned so abruptly that he nearly trod upon Mary's gown. "Forgive my interrupting, but can you possibly mean Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, in Derbyshire?"
"I believe so," Mary replied. "He is staying at Netherfield with Mr. Bingley."
"He is actually here, in Hertfordshire?"
When Mary nodded again, Mr. Collins clasped his hands together in unconcealed delight.
"What extraordinary good fortune! He is the nephew of my most distinguished patroness. Had I imagined such a circumstance possible, I should have sought an introduction immediately."
He immediately began recounting every occasion on which Lady Catherine had condescended to mention her nephew in his hearing, treating each recollection as though it were of the greatest consequence.
Before long he had determined to write to Rosings without delay, persuaded that her ladyship would wish to hear of Mr. Darcy's arrival in Hertfordshire, and expressing the warmest hope that he might soon be honoured with an introduction.
His enthusiasm met with little encouragement. Lydia and Kitty listened only long enough to exchange impatient glances before returning their attention to the officers. Even Mary, who bore with Mr. Collins's speeches more patiently than anyone, offered little beyond an occasional nod.
Elizabeth alone felt any inclination to answer him, though for reasons entirely different from his own.
Mr. Denny's accusation against Darcy was suffered to pass without contradiction, and Mr. Collins's admiration rested upon a consequence no one else present appeared inclined to value.
More than once, she longed to speak in Darcy's defence, yet prudence held her silent.
The understanding they shared belonged to Oakham Mount alone, and she could not betray his confidence merely to satisfy her own sense of justice.
She had never before found silence so difficult to maintain.
When Mr. Collins at last exhausted the subject, Mr. Wickham had grown unusually quiet. At the mention of Darcy, sympathy touched his features, though Elizabeth fancied she glimpsed something else before it disappeared.
"Darcy," Wickham repeated slowly at length. "Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, of Pemberley."