Chapter Fourteen
Hunsford Parsonage, Kent
Elizabeth’s arrival at the parsonage in Kent was greeted with much enthusiasm.
Charlotte was eager yet restrained in the welcoming of her three guests; Sir William and Maria were both pleased to be reunited with Mrs. Collins, and they all chattered happily as they entered the parsonage and settled into a well-appointed drawing room for tea.
Sir William was quick to engage Mr. Collins in conversation. He had noticed the rather fine garden as they approached the house, and Elizabeth’s cousin was eager to tell them all about it.
Charlotte, Maria, and Elizabeth talked of other things, and after tea, the guests were shown to their respective rooms. Elizabeth sat on the comfortable bed and listened as Charlotte regaled her with every detail of her new life. Elizabeth was quite pleased for her friend’s happiness.
An invitation to dine at Rosings Park was swift in coming, and Elizabeth was eager to meet the paragon that was Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Her cousin frequently waxed long and eloquently about his patroness and her ‘beautiful flower of a daughter.’ Lizzy was looking forward to the amusement the evening would bring, for how could anyone truly live up to Mr. Collins’s praise?
The evening was indeed diverting, but it was also a challenge.
Lady Catherine very nearly interrogated Elizabeth on any number of subjects, asking intrusive and highly inappropriate questions.
The lady seemed pleased to hear that Elizabeth’s elder sister was already married, but equally dismayed to learn that all four of the remaining Bennet sisters were out at once.
After questioning Lizzy thoroughly, the lady’s attention turned to Charlotte, and she proceeded to advise her parson’s wife on everything from how to properly make a bed to what cut of beef she ought to purchase for their dinner.
Charlotte bore it all with admirable patience.
Elizabeth would never have lasted living in the great lady’s sphere of influence.
Having assured himself of his daughter’s good fortune and enviable position, Sir William departed within a matter of days. Maria and Elizabeth would continue on at the parsonage for some weeks, and Elizabeth was excited to explore the many paths around Rosings and Hunsford.
Near the end of her second week in Kent, Elizabeth received a letter from her father.
Mr. Wickham would convey her home, it said, in the company of a maid of course, at the end of her stay with Charlotte.
Her uncle’s clerk, she learned, had some documents regarding the estate that needed Mr. Collin’s signature.
Just a few days later, Mr. Collins interrupted Charlotte and Elizabeth in a rather abrupt manner, bursting into the room and shouting, “Make haste! Her ladyship’s nephews are approaching, even as I speak!”
Mr. Collins flitted back out of the room again, no doubt to meet their esteemed callers at the door.
“Well Lizzy,” said Charlotte in amusement, “I can only attribute this civility to you. Mr. Darcy would hardly have occasion to visit me so promptly upon his arrival.”
Elizabeth blushed prettily. “I will not deny it; I am eager to see Mr. Darcy again. He does improve upon better acquaintance!”
Charlotte laughed merrily as the bell rang and in short order, Mr. Collins led Mr. Darcy and another gentleman into the drawing room.
Mr. Darcy greeted the ladies and requested to make known to them his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Introductions completed, the gentlemen settled themselves in two very comfortable chairs.
It was no surprise to anyone, save perhaps Mr. Collins, that Mr. Darcy selected the spot closest to her own.
Even the colonel had smiled at his cousin’s selection.
“And how are you, Miss Bennet?” Mr. Darcy asked.
“I am very well,” Lizzy replied with a smile. “Kent is a beautiful place and I have been exploring as much of it as I can on foot.”
“Yes, it is quite lovely,” Mr. Darcy agreed.
They conversed on pleasant subjects for a brief time, quickly getting all the social niceties out of the way.
Near the end of their visit, Mr. Darcy leaned a little closer to Elizabeth and said in a slightly quieter tone, “There is a particularly lovely grove about a half mile from the parsonage. It is filled with bluebells and snowdrops. Have you encountered it?”
“I have,” Lizzy said a little breathlessly.
“It is a very nice walk in the morning, say, nine o’clock,” he said.
“I shall make sure to take it tomorrow, then,” Elizabeth replied.
Mr. Darcy grinned then, a wider smile than Elizabeth had yet to see on his face. It quite took her breath away.
“Until we next meet, then,” he whispered.
The gentlemen rose and departed. Nearly as soon as they left the room, Mr. Collins launched into a monologue about the condescension of his patroness’s nephews. Elizabeth was pleased to ignore him in favor of her own thoughts.
Mr. Darcy’s behavior had perplexed her when they were last together in Meryton.
His enjoyment of her company had at first surprised her, but eventually, she had resolved that he was genuine in his regard and had lowered her defenses, allowing him to woo her.
Mr. Wickham’s belief in his friend’s affection had helped her along a bit, and now she trusted that her uncle’s clerk had been right.
Why else would Mr. Darcy have sought her out almost as soon as he had arrived in Kent?
The next morning dawned clear and bright, and Elizabeth set out on her walk at about eight thirty.
The dew still clung to the leaves on the trees and the blades of grass, making everything seem as though it were covered in jewels.
She trailed along slowly, occasionally brushing her hand through the tall grass so she might admire the water droplets left on her fingers.
She was the first to arrive in the grove. The flowers were there in abundance, and she perched herself on a fallen log, leaning back so that the sunlight would touch her face. It really was quite a pretty spot and was one of her favorite places to walk.
Mr. Darcy came upon her just a short while later. Elizabeth did not hear him approach, for her head was thrown back and her eyes closed. When she opened them and noticed him there, she blushed.
His eyes were bright as he regarded her, a small smile playing on his lips. How long he had been watching her, Lizzy did not know. He bowed slightly and came toward her, taking her hand in his and placing a kiss on her knuckles.
“Good morning,” he said huskily.
“Yes, it is,” Lizzy said saucily, valiantly attempting to slow her rapid heartbeat.
“I wish you to know,” Mr. Darcy said, “that I found myself looking forward to my annual visit to Kent much more than I have in the past.”
“Oh?” Lizzy asked. “And why might that be? Perhaps you were eager to renew your acquaintance with Mr. Collins?”
Mr. Darcy chuckled. “Though your cousin is a good man, it was not in his company I wished to be.”
“Then perhaps Mrs. Collins?” Lizzy said innocently.
“Your friend is a wonderful lady, but no, it was not she.”
Lizzy was rather pleased to see Mr. Darcy so playful and so she pressed on, arching an eyebrow and saying, “Miss Maria Lucas, then, must be the reason for your eagerness.”
“Georgiana has expressed some desire to see that young lady again, but you are once again wrong,” Mr. Darcy laughed.
“Is Miss Darcy with you?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes, indeed,” Mr. Darcy said. “Georgiana rarely accompanies me when I come to Rosings. I was pleased when she asked if she might join the colonel and me. I believe her anticipation of renewed acquaintances played some role in her decision. Her companion is in Bristol, you see, attending her daughter’s lying in, and Georgiana has been lonely. ”
“It must be Miss Lucas that she is so eager to meet,” Lizzy said. “She did not seem to enjoy my company when we were last in Meryton. She was more often found with my sisters and Maria.”
“Georgiana spoke of you often after we left,” Mr. Darcy confided. “She asked me many questions and wondered when we would all meet again. It is a great relief, for she has had a trying year.”
“At her age, it is to be expected. Lydia herself has struggled since she turned fifteen.”
Mr. Darcy shifted his weight to the other foot, clearly uncomfortable. “Georgiana,” he said, “has had a more trying time than most. A fortune hunter very nearly convinced her to elope last May.”
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open in shock. “No!” she said. “Poor Miss Darcy. Has she recovered from her disappointment?”
Mr. Darcy sighed and sat next to her on the log. “I do not know,” he confessed. “She will not speak to me and has not confided in her companion either. She writes many letters and plays her pianoforte a great deal every day. She studies and sees the masters but has little time for me, it seems.”
“I am sorry,” Elizabeth said, reaching out a hand and placing it on his arm. “You are very good to her. I am certain she will recover soon.”
Mr. Darcy nodded. “Shall we walk?” he asked. They stood and he offered Lizzy his arm, which she accepted happily.
They strolled along, heads together, conversing amiably for some time. Mr. Darcy spoke of his home and his childhood in Derbyshire, telling many stories that had Elizabeth nearly doubled over from laughter.
She, in turn, told him of the many scrapes she had gotten into, from climbing trees to letting Mr. Goulding’s pigs out of their pen.
They circled the path to the grove, eventually arriving some little distance from the parsonage.
There, they parted ways and Elizabeth meandered happily back to her friend’s home.
She and Charlotte saw much of Mr. Darcy and the colonel over the next few weeks. Miss Darcy accompanied them but rarely, even with the inducement of another young lady her own age. When Elizabeth questioned Mr. Darcy about it one afternoon, he sighed.