Jump to new as of March 28, 2006
For the rest of the week Mr Collins showed the good sense to spend most of his waking hours at Lucas Lodge. He had offered to cut his visit short, but Mr Bennet had assured him that there was no need. Hospitality had been promised to him until Saturday, and thus it would remain.
Lizzy had difficulty hiding her resentment from Charlotte; after all she’d shared her aspirations for Jane and Mr Collins with her best friend and she felt offended that Charlotte had selfishly placed her own feelings above saving Jane from possible ruination at the hands of a practiced womanizer. Lizzy also felt very guilty about this attitude because she knew she ought to be pleased that Charlotte and Mr Collins had found true love, and in her heart of hearts she was. She was glad that they spent all this time of courtship away from Longbourn so she did not have to face the reminder of her own shortcomings at every turn, especially as the bliss they exuded caused her to feel positively chartreuse with envy, and to dwell upon Mr Darcy’s manifold attractions a little too ardently.
The next morning Lizzy walked to Meryton with her sisters. While they were traipsing down the street eying all the shop windows with fervent interest, Mr Wickham and Captain Denny joined them. Lizzy was clearly affronted by his effrontery at claiming a previous acquaintance but her younger sisters, fascinated by the red of their jackets, eagerly invited both gentlemen to accompany them to their aunt Phillips’.
“I do apologise Mr Wickham,” cried Lydia, “for not acknowledging you the last time we met, but I was only a child of nine when I had previously laid eyes on you.”
“Your apology is absolutely unnecessary,” he replied in a sugary voice. “I should not have recognised you either. You have grown up quite a bit since then. I swear that your beauty, and indeed the beauty of all your sisters, has trebled in that time.”
Lydia giggled. “And you, sir, have become most dashing and handsome.”
Kitty nodded her head wildly in agreement. Wickham looked over to Lizzy, who had been studiously ignoring him, and smirked. She turned her head away in disgust.
After all the proper greetings had been made upon being ushered into the Phillips’ parlour, Wickham sought Lizzy out.
“This is a most unpropitious welcome for the prodigal.”
“Prodigal!” Lizzy said with venom. “If it were not unladylike I would spit upon your vile countenance.”
Wickham laughed. “Still the temper I enjoy so much!”
“You are despicable.”
“Thank you. I do try.”
“If you think you can finagle your way into my sister’s good graces you are much mistaken.”
“From what I have seen of your sisters, nothing could be easier,” he replied blandly. “But I prefer a challenge.” He gave her a look that spoke volumes.
Lizzy turned away from him.
“The other day I made a most interesting new friend,” said Wickham. “The gentleman told me you hold him in some disdain – I could have sworn otherwise.”
Against her better judgement, Lizzy took the bait. “What lies did you tell Mr Darcy?”
“It little matters what I told him; suffice to say that whatever pretensions you had towards the gentleman, they will never come to fruition.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” said Lizzy, flushing strongly.
“You are transparent.” Wickham grinned – he was clearly enjoying himself. “Many a man puffed up by being the darling of society has fallen into the same snare you were setting. A gentleman who is always courted becomes intrigued by seeming indifference. I salute your attempt – it was inspired.”
“I refuse to converse with you any further,” said Lizzy and she got up and took a seat beside Jane instead.
Mr Wickham smiled complacently and entered into conversation with Mrs Phillips as if there were no one else in the room he would rather be talking to. He even took it well when Lizzy refused his offer of an escort back to Longbourn, and, despite their younger sisters’ complaints, Jane steadfastly supported Lizzy’s decision.
When the girls arrived home there was a letter awaiting Jane and Elizabeth from Caroline Bingley. Jane opened it eagerly.
“She is inviting us to come to London with her. Oh Mama, may we?” asked Jane, her eyes shining with excitement.
“Let me see that,” said Lizzy, pulling the letter from Jane’s grasp. The fact that the Bingleys were leaving the country was music to Elizabeth’s ears. Jane would be safe at last, and she . . . she would have the temptation that was Mr Darcy far, far out of her reach. She needed to be cured of her unaccountably wanton desires in respect to that man. Actually, she had to concede that her desires were more ludicrous than wanton. She fantasized not upon a mere dalliance but on owning him heart, body, and soul. And the idea of a man like him deigning to marry a girl like her took the word fantasy to new and spiralling heights. She corralled her thoughts, smoothed the page, and read Miss Bingley’s invitation.
My dear friends,
Unforeseen circumstances necessitate our immediate removal from Netherfield, and make it certain that we shall be gone for quite some time. I would not mind so very much if not for the fact that I will be separated from both of you when we are just beginning to become such close friends. Our parting cannot be tolerated. I have come upon a perfect solution – that the two of you should sojourn with myself and Louisa in London for as long as your kind parents can spare you. Is this not a delightful plan? You will be able to meet Miss Darcy whom you have heard so much about. She is the sweetest of girls and soon to be almost a sister to me. My brother and Mr Darcy will also be in Town so we shall make the liveliest of parties.
Please say yes and grant my dearest of wishes.
Your true friend
Caroline Bingley
“London!” shrieked Mrs Bennet, her spirits reviving for the first time since the duplicity of Charlotte and Collins.
“No, Mama. Wait,” said Lizzy. “We cannot go.”
“Cannot go?” asked Jane, the pleasure ebbing from her face. “What is to stop us?”
“Jane,” said Lizzy gently. “You know that hurting you is the last thing I desire, but I see no way in which you will not be hurt at least in some small way by what I have to say. We rarely disagree but on this one point. Unfortunately this letter only goes to prove that Mr Bingley has been playing fast and loose with your heart.”
Jane looked at her, speechless.
Mrs Bennet, however, still had her wits about her. “An invitation to stay with them in London? How could that possibly prove that the gentleman was only trifling with my sweet Jane? I see it as proof of his further intentions.”
“Has nobody read this insincere testament with any care?” Lizzy was becoming aggravated. “She is throwing our expectations in our faces!”
“She is inviting us to London in a most friendly manner,” said Jane, almost in tears.
“Did you not read what she said of Miss Darcy? Soon to be almost a siste? Can that mean anything other than that her brother is about to marry the girl?”
“It could mean that Miss Bingley is about to marry Mr Darcy,” said Jane without conviction.
Lizzy laughed bitterly. “Mr Darcy is engaged to his cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh.” She was surprised at how much it hurt her to say it out loud.
As Jane began to cry Lizzy took her into her arms in an attempt to comfort her.
“But I love him so,” Jane sobbed. “I thought he loved me too.”
“Men are nothing but double dealing opportunists,” said Lizzy. “They will tell a girl anything she wants to hear – but they rarely have marriage on their minds. I am only grateful that you were spared before Mr Bingley managed to compromise you in any way.”
The look of guilty apprehension that Jane cast Lizzy before she burst into a fresh bout of tears did not bode well at all.
The two were walking in the garden together, discussing the arrangements for the forthcoming wedding, when Lizzy finally broke down and disclosed to her friend what was truly most pressing upon her mind.
“I am greatly worried for Jane.”
“Whyever so?” asked Charlotte. “Mr Bingley, whom you mistrusted so much, has gone from the neighbourhood. Though I sincerely doubt he was quite the rake you made him out to be – I thought him rather sweet and even somewhat shy.”
“Shyness well employed is a very useful art in the seduction of a young lady.”
Charlotte smirked. “You have based this statement on your extensive familiarity with such endeavours, I suppose.”
Lizzie tossed her head. “Laugh at me all you want – I have eyes and ears that function well enough for me to understand the ways of the world.”
“Well, Lizzy,” said Charlotte, “far be it from me to set out to annoy you by speaking a simple truth, but I think you have done both the young gentleman and your sister a disservice. In my estimation they were in a fair way to falling in love. One ought never to stand in the way of love.” Her eyes went dreamy.
“Love!” Lizzy scoffed. “Because you are so smitten you want to see the same in everybody. Lust is more like.”
“From where does such bitterness spring?”
“You did not see Jane’s face when I rejoiced that Mr Bingley had gone before he had the opportunity to compromise her in any way. I very much fear she has been . . . tampered with.”
“Lizzy! Do you not think it better that you speak with your sister before jumping to such outrageous conclusions? Knowing Jane, I would say that simply the remembrance of him kissing her hand would make her look conscious.”
Lizzy’s fears could not be mollified quite that easily. Her hand had been kissed a number of times and the thought of it never brought more than a light blush to her cheeks. It had to be something much more intimate to have affected Jane so strongly. Her sister was clearly not the same carefree young lady she had been before the advent of the Bingleys.
That evening she closeted herself with her sister hoping that she would confide in her.
“Dearest Jane,” she said, upon seeing how close to tears her sister was. “You may tell me anything – I shall not judge you.” She threw her arms about her and pulled her close.
“Judge me? In what way?”
“You may have committed some sort of indiscretion . . . but I know with whom the fault lies.”
“The fault? Oh no! I have nothing to reproach him with.” Tears rolled down Jane’s cheeks. “The fault is all mine – therein lies the pain.”
Lizzy held Jane away from her and stared into her eyes to try to understand the import of so atoning a statement.
“I must believe you to be right, Lizzy – he never loved me. My vanity deceived me. I fancied his admiration to mean more than it did. I vow to forget him and his sister – little good it will do to hold them dear. Let us never mention again these things that bring such torment.”
“But . . . if you have been compromised redress must be sought!”
“Lizzy, no more – I beseech you!”
Lizzy could do naught but promise her sister and vow to do all she could to bring her happiness and relieve the desolation that emanated from her usually serene face. Some distraction must be sought. It was bad enough that her father was continually making jokes about them being crossed in love, and suggesting all manner of further candidates for additional jilting.
Charlotte’s wedding came and went. Mrs Bennet held up tolerably well until the end of the service when no one stormed the church to speak against the union. Her wails when they said ‘I do’ almost drowned out the organist – but that stout soul had been practicing the wedding march for a fortnight and was not to be outdone. It turned into a battle to see who could perform the loudest and the bridal party all but ran from the church to preserve their eardrums.
The following Monday the Gardiners arrived to spend Christmas at Longbourn. Mr Gardiner was Mrs Bennet’s brother and they were as alike as two peas in a pod. He had married a tradesman’s daughter with a small fortune and they lived in some style upon the edges of fashion in London. They had four small children for whom they had great aspirations. Where they were only considered to belong to the mushroom set, they wanted their children to attain acceptance in the upper echelons of society. To these ends Mrs Gardiner hoped her accomplished nieces would stand her in good stead by teaching her daughters to behave like demure young ladies. So it was arranged that Jane was to go to Town with them and stay for some months.
Lizzy took her aunt aside one afternoon and made her familiar with the history of Jane’s recent disappointment.
“’Tis a pity she did not capture him,” her aunt tut-tutted.
“His intentions were not honourable, aunt. I worry lest Jane should come across Mr Bingley or his sister whilst in London. Promise me that you will protect her from him.”
“Never fear, we don’t ride with that set,” said her aunt, shaking her head in sorrow. “Besides, Jane shall be so occupied with the children she will have little time for gallivanting, mark my words.”
Lizzy reflected that this was true – she knew her aunt well and didn’t envy her sister this visit. It would, however, keep Jane’s mind from dwelling upon what was never to be and might also throw her in the path of some worthy young clerk involved with her uncle’s business.
“Now tell me more,” said her aunt, prepared to settle down for a good gossip. “Mr Darcy is quite the talk of London, you know, for being so rich and handsome and high in the instep. They say that no young lady is good enough for him – the prettiest girls are constantly after him and he disdains them all. I hear he is holding out for a viscountess.”
“Then his engagement is not generally known?”
“His engagement! Do tell! Is it that flashy young Miss Bingley?”
‘She would be so lucky,’ thought Lizzy. “It is his cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh.”
“Well, isn’t that a slap in the face to all the society mamas,” laughed Mrs Gardiner. “Trust the old bat Lady Catherine to keep her nephew’s fortune in the family. Never a more avaricious woman there was than her.”
“So – they are well matched, then.”
“Do I detect some bitterness in your voice? I declare – I believe you fell for him yourself!” She chuckled at the thought.
“Don’t be absurd, Auntie. The man is admittedly handsome but his personality is barely tolerable.”
Mrs Gardiner laughed all the more. “If only you could have caught him – our future in society would have been secure. Oh – do not scowl at me so – I am only joking. What chance would you ever have had where scores of richer, prettier, more accomplished young ladies have failed? Now – who is that I see coming towards us? Don’t tell me it’s that reprobate Wickham!”
“It is,” said Lizzy, her features becoming rigid.
“I do delight in a rake!” cried Mrs Gardiner, surging forward to greet him.
Lizzy barely suppressed a groan. Why was it that rakes were so universally admired? Wickham ought not to be accepted anywhere, but he was even welcomed here in her father’s house, where he had failed his godfather miserably and abused his generosity, hospitality and trust. Her father should have known enough of him, without any of her disclosures, to ban him from entrance. But her father not only was a forgiving sort, he put his own amusement above everything else. And it amused him to try to catch Wickham out in a lie.
After a lively conversation with her aunt, Wickham sidled up to Lizzy who turned her back on him.
“You have such terribly common connections,” he said. “Even if I had not put a word of warning in Darcy’s ear, one sight of your brass-faced aunt and he would have run.”
“I do not know why you persist in this charade,” said Lizzy. “He is engaged to his cousin.”
“Engaged to his cousin! I have it on very good authority that he has no intention of marrying his cousin.”
“I have it on good authority that he has,” countered Lizzy, ignoring the little burst of hope she felt at his words.
“Ah well – who is to say? Poor Miss Elizabeth. To be so thwarted in your quest for love.”
“Mr Darcy and I never had any interest in each other,” Lizzy responded coldly, and began to move away from him.
Wickham reached out and grabbed her arm. “I do not trust any man within six feet of you. Your power is persuasive. Darcy could not have resisted your charms had I not intervened. Even I, now, knowing you as I do, find you so very alluring I am almost prepared to break my resolve.”
Lizzy tried to shake his arm off but his hold only tightened. “You may yet be safe from me,” he whispered. “For even handsome men must have something to live on as well as the plain. A young heiress has come to my notice – ten thousand pounds a year – so I must be circumspect.” He laughed. “Do not think this an easy decision for me to make. Miss Mary King is a nasty, freckled little thing and you are so delectable. Once I am sure of her I may well be back.” He reached out and ran a finger caressingly down Lizzy’s cheek. She shuddered convulsively.
“You are vile.”
“Indeed,” he agreed, and was gone.
Lizzy ran further into the garden and then leaned against a tree and sought to compose herself as her stomach heaved. Now more than ever she knew she ought to come forward, but the thought of the shame and scandal that her revelations would bring prevented her. She hoped to God that this heiress’ family would be able to see through Wickham’s false charms and remove her from his orbit. She could not risk the futures of herself and her sisters for some unknown girl.
After a few minutes Lizzy was able to return to the gathering. She tried to ignore the guilt that she felt for the comfort of knowing that Wickham’s pursuit of Miss King would spare her his repulsive attentions.
“Lizzy,” cried her Uncle Gardiner upon her return, “have you been hiding from me?”
“No uncle.”
“You must know I mean to take you to task for your treatment of your dear mother.”
Lizzy sighed. “What have I done?”
“What have you not done may be more to the question! Frazzling her poor nerves to the bone by refusing to make any effort with the gentlemen. Convincing your sister to do the same. Refusing invitations to stay in London with a family of the pink of the ton. Encouraging your cousin Mr Collins to propose to your friend rather than yourself or one of your sisters. How is she going to ever marry all you dowerless girls off without the least little bit of cooperation? If only she had listened to me when she was younger and had married Mr Snodgrass. He may have been old but he was rich as Midas. But no! She had to have her gentleman with his country estate. And then only to discover that it was entailed! Do you think I will support you all when your father dies and the Collinses turn you out? I have four children of my own to provide for! Marriage is your only recourse, my dear.”
“I know that, Uncle,” said Lizzy. It was so unfair! She was already keeping secrets to protect her marriageability and that of her sisters. She could not be held responsible for the fact that Mr Darcy was a dilettante, Mr Bingley a philanderer, and Mr Collins a romantic idealist. It was hardly her fault that the rest of the gentlemen in the vicinity were boring to a T or soldiers with no thoughts of matrimony. And it wasn’t as if she had even refused a proposal.
“I find myself completely at a stand,” he cried. “I am taking Jane off my sister’s hands for a few months – in what other way can I help my dear sister?”
“You could introduce Jane to some nice young lawyer or accountant,” said Lizzy.
“With her looks so ravaged? Your mother is afraid Jane will go into a decline and die.”
“Uncle! Jane will be well – you will see. All she needs is a change of place. And she dotes on her cousins – she could not be better situated.”
“And what of you Lizzy? What effort are you prepared to make while I am inviting all these callow youths to sup with me?”
“I have been invited to stay with Mr and Mrs Collins in Hunsford this spring. I am certain they will do their best to introduce me to all the worthy young men of the parish.”
“Humph,” was his reply. “What good will it do when you spurn them all? You have too big an opinion of yourself, my girl. Now take my advice. Pretty yourself up, put on some ribbons, and smile at the gentlemen. Do not be forever rambling on about books and politics. And none of your impertinence. A man wants a biddable wife.”
With that, Mr Gardiner ambled off, feeling that he had done his duty as uncle and counsellor. It was a pity the girl’s own father had not the sense to administer such valuable advice as he.
March dawned bringing warmer weather, spring flowers, and the promised trip to Kent. Sir William and Maria Lucas were not the best of travelling companions as they never stopped talking the entire way; it was with much relief that Lizzy was finally able to jump down from the carriage and greet Charlotte and Mr Collins at the gate of their snug parsonage in Hunsford. All was shown to her with much delight and pride of place.
“But here,” said her cousin with a smile, “is truly the piece de resistance,” and he pulled open a closet door with one dramatic motion. Inside his greatcoat hung from a hook beside Charlotte’s winter cloak.
“Fascinating,” said Lizzy, failing completely to understand the enormous significance of the sight before her eyes. Charlotte and Collins were almost collapsing with laughter. “You have warm winter wear.”
Sir William and Maria dutifully uttered oohs and ahs, but their faces were as blank as the back of the closet wall.
“Perhaps you should explain, dearest,” said Charlotte to her husband. “I’m afraid I can’t possibly manage.” And she exploded with laughter once more.
“My esteemed patroness takes the utmost interest in the most minute details of our life, from the number of rows of cauliflower in the garden to the amount of eggcups necessary to augment our dinnerware. She insisted upon shelves in all of our closets – in fact we have been inundated with a veritable plethora of shelves. The linen closet Charlotte! They must see the linen closet.”
Charlotte led the entire party down the hall to her housekeeping room and grandly opened the nearest closet door. Lizzy gazed in shock at its contents.
“I believe there are forty-five shelves in all,” said Collins. “The sheets must be fully starched in order to slide them into such narrow slots.”
“In our kitchen closets,” added Charlotte, “we can stack no more than two plates per shelf.”
“This is why we take such pride in our hall closet,” said Collins with a grin. “It was a great standoff between two determined individuals but I carried the day – no small feat as you will appreciate all the more once you finally meet Lady Catherine. Now, if I may take your coats? I believe there are hooks enough to hang the lot.”
That Sunday at church Lizzy had her first opportunity to see the great lady for herself. She was small and bird-like, and dressed in lavender crepe with black trimmings.
‘This is the grand Lady Catherine de Bourgh?’ thought Lizzy upon seeing her. ‘She looks most unprepossessing.’ She wondered how her cousin could ever have compared this lady’s looks to those of Mr Darcy, but on closer inspection she noticed that Lady Catherine did indeed have a very aristocratic nose and was actually taller than she had first supposed, though definitely more than a foot shorter than her nephew.
After the service Lizzy was presented to Lady Catherine, along with Sir William and Maria Lucas.
“You must bring your entire party for tea at three o’clock today,” she announced to Mr Collins. Lizzy was astonished that the lady managed to look down her nose at everyone, though she was the shortest of the group. “Mind you are not late.”
Lizzy caught her cousin rolling his eyes before he escorted his patroness to her waiting carriage and handed her up.
“Given the amount of clocks she has provided us with,” whispered Charlotte in Lizzy’s ear, “it is amazing she could imagine the possibility of us being late.”
In any event they were not late, though Mr Collins had to be urged out of the house and a very quick pace was set for their walk to Rosings.
“It would not hurt the demon to have to wait for once in her life,” announced Collins. He had been in the middle of a comfortable snooze and he resented having to awake in haste just to gratify Lady Catherine’s pleasure.
“Hush, my love,” said Charlotte. “I would not want her to blame our guests and look askance at any one of them.”
Lizzy was most interested to finally see the mansion of Rosings that she had heard so much about, and also to meet Miss Anne de Bourgh, the young lady destined to be Mr Darcy’s wife. The façade of the building was indeed adorned with many windows, and indoors Lizzy was witness to multiple staircases as the party was led from the grand entrance doors to the elegant drawing room where their hostess had chosen to receive them. Lady Catherine was seated like royalty upon a large armchair on a raised dais. To her right were two ladies, one older and plainly dressed, the other decked out in a mass of ruffles and lace.
“My daughter,” she announced with considerable pride. The other lady she did not mention at all.
Lizzy studied Miss de Bourgh as they exchanged nods. She was a robust young lady with rosy cheeks. Her face was pleasant enough but she had the habit of scrunching it up in the manner of a person whose spectacles had been mislaid. Her hands, which lay disposed upon her lap, were large and well formed, with long, elegant fingers. She said nothing, seeming content to let her mother be the spokeswoman.
“You are not yet married,” said Lady Catherine to Lizzy, after all the formalities had been observed and they had seated themselves on a row of low chairs to her left, “and yet surely you must be twenty at least.”
“Indeed,” said Lizzy, eyeing her coldly.
“You must have been disappointed with Mr Collins’ choice – to have picked your friend over you to the detriment of your family. I know all about the entail – a nasty business – though I am pleased for the Collinses, you understand, I still feel for you and all your sisters. I am surprised that your mother has not found you all husbands yet – I think that very behindhand in her parenting. But then, she did go and have five daughters. What was she thinking?”
“I believe the idea was to beget a son,” said Lizzy.
“Well she did a very poor job of it, in my opinion. If I had other children I would have had more than one son.”
Lizzy was trying hard to control her growing anger.
“You are tolerably pretty. I should be able to find you a husband before your visit is over, despite your age and lack of dowry.”
Lizzy clenched her teeth. “I have no interest in casting about for a husband – that was not my reason in coming here.”
“I will set myself to the task nonetheless. I have made matches for many a young lady – all of them very advantageous. You see, my own daughter has been betrothed to her cousin from the cradle so I have had to shower my abilities upon my acquaintances instead. Miss Maria – I do not doubt I can encounter just the young man for you as well. Why, the apothecary’s son, Mr Simplin, would do very well for either of you – he has no right to be choosey.”
Lizzy had stopped listening to Lady Catherine. For one thing it was too aggravating. For another she had just confirmed the engagement of Mr Darcy to her daughter and Lizzy could think of nothing else. It was indeed true! How very annoying! And Anne de Bourgh, to top it off, had the docility of a cow. Not to mention the figure. It was unthinkable that a piece of physical perfection such as Mr Darcy should be her reward.
The next visit to Rosings was no more pleasing. This time Lady Catherine had quite an extensive list of possible beaux for the two young ladies, and she was also compiling a list of Hertfordshire gentlemen she had heard tell of from her numerous connections to send to Mrs Bennet to assist her in disposing of the rest of her daughters.
“At least your mother had the good sense to bring you all out,” she said. “It would never do if the youngest were to have to wait for the eldest to marry, especially as you and your sister Jane appear to have been very disobliging in that respect.” Lady Catherine then turned to Mrs Collins. “You must take the young ladies into the village at your soonest opportunity and allow them to parade back and forth between the shops – that ought to stir up some notice.”
Charlotte only nodded and smiled. It seemed to Lizzy that she did little else in Lady Catherine’s presence, but she invariably never followed that lady’s liberally dispersed advice.
Lady Catherine then turned her gimlet eyes back upon Lizzy. “Accomplishments!” she cried. “They are paramount. Do you draw? Play? Sing? Do needlework?”
“Indeed I do,” said Elizabeth. “My education has not been deficient. I can also read Latin and Greek, if you would care to know.”
“Latin and Greek! Never breathe a word of that in the presence of a gentleman. Why, if my dear husband, God rest his soul, had any inkling that I had even read The Iliad in translation he would never have married me, and I am the daughter of an earl! But to play and sing is always acceptable, and I am a true proficient. My daughter also excels at the art but I have ensured that she was kept away from books altogether. She can read nothing but music.”
Lizzy wondered how Mr Darcy, who put reading down as one of the prime accomplishments of a young lady, appreciated this gap in his future wife’s education. She imagined he would have to look elsewhere for his literary gratification, and stifled a giggle at the idea of a mistress whose duties would be little more than that of a librarian. Her lively imagination then led her to dwell on what it would be like if she were to be the one to share those particular intimacies with him, whispering sonnets into one well shaped ear as they sat together before the fire. This made her think of the times he had held her in his arms and carried her up and down the staircases of Netherfield, and she was blushing at the thought when suddenly she heard his name uttered by Lady Catherine.
“My nephews Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam will be visiting for a number of weeks. They always come to Rosings for Easter – so punctilious in their devotion to us – especially Darcy, but then he has all the more reason.” Here she smiled significantly at her daughter who giggled, her cheeks flaming more rosily than ever. “I imagine we shall be caught up in the final preparations for the wedding and not have much time at all for you, Mrs Collins, or your guests. But I promise that I shall lend as much time as I can to our matchmaking schemes. You must give a card party, or a musical evening. I will draw you up a guest list. If you throw the doors open between your back parlour and front, and remove all the occasional tables to the morning room, you should have ample space for five or six couples to stand up to dance.”
Lizzy was more concerned with the statement about the wedding preparations than anything else. She turned to Miss Anne and asked, “When is the wedding to be?”
“Oh la!” said Anne. “I have not the least idea. Mr Darcy has not yet set a date, but Mama will pin him down this time – she is most determined.”
“Of that I have no doubt,” said Lizzy. “You must be looking forward to the wedding yourself.” ‘With such inducement,’ she might have added as her thoughts strayed to Mr Darcy’s many favourable attributes, not the least of which were his lustrous green eyes.
“I daresay I am,” giggled Anne. “I understand you have met my fiancé.”
“He resided in Hertfordshire for some weeks, not three miles from my home.”
“Then you know what he is like and must envy me greatly.” She tittered. “Although I admit that sometimes I cannot follow his conversation at all – but I do not feel conversation matters for very much anyway.” She smiled complacently and settled back in her chair.
It was the most Lizzy had ever heard her say and she received the distinct impression that Anne believed she had carried her point and therefore had no need speak any further. Lizzy, however, wanted more information. There was, after all, another cousin coming whom she knew nothing of.
“Is your cousin the colonel as elegant a gentleman as Mr Darcy?”
“What are you speaking of?” asked Lady Catherine, stopping midway in her instructions to Mrs Collins. “I must be part of the conversation.”
“I was merely asking after Colonel Fitzwilliam,” said Lizzy.
“I do hope you are not getting any ideas about my nephew,” said Lady Catherine. “He is quite out of your sphere. I know he is only a second son, but I beg you to remember he is the second son of an earl, and who may I ask are you? The daughter of an impoverished country gentleman!”
“I have no designs upon him.”
“I should think not! I do hope you know your place. Colonel Fitzwilliam is a very gracious young man – you would be hard pressed to find his equal, especially in such an unvaried society as you are accustomed to.”
“It was in my own neighbourhood that I made Mr Darcy’s acquaintance,” Lizzy reminded her. “Would you not class them as equals?”
“Insolent girl! You know very well what I mean. Besides, as estimable as Colonel Fitzwilliam may be, he is nothing compared to Darcy. Why, Darcy’s estate of Pemberley brings him a fortune of ten thousand pounds a year. The elegance of his home is unparalleled anywhere in the kingdom, with the exception of Rosings. Combined the two estates will be an asset of the highest degree. The colonel, however charming a young man he may be, knows his duty to himself and his family. He will marry an heiress – I have one or two in mind for him at this very moment. Marriage, my dear, is a means to prosperity; the greater the starting assets of those involved, the greater the final reward. In your case the gain can be but little. These are the standards that society is built upon and the basis of what makes our fine nation so great in the eyes of the rest of the world. So, as you must readily discern, marriage is your duty to country and crown. That is why I am toiling so hard to find you a husband and why your lack of interest in the endeavour is utterly appalling.”
Lizzy had to control herself not to burst out in laughter at such convoluted reasoning and therefore averted her glance and managed no more than a slight nod in response. Lady Catherine read this as admission of error and acceptance of her strictures, and was pleased. It was a relief to know that the girl could be reasoned into submission.
Mr Collins would have met Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam as soon as they arrived if his priorities involved pandering to the rich. As it was he spent the morning calling upon his poorest parishioners instead to see to their needs and discover what petitions ought to be made to his patroness. At least her penchant for being involved with the minutest details of the parish could be put to good use. Rather than shelves in closets, his ideas ran more to food upon tables. The following day he made his obligatory visit, and brought the two gentlemen home with him to pay their respects to his wife and visitors.
Lizzy looked up upon their entrance and noticed immediately that Mr Darcy was studiously trying to avoid her eyes. She had time to take in little else about him because his cousin practically bounded into the room. Imagine a tall man of military stature bounding in a rather cramped sitting room – a number of carefully placed occasional tables were at considerable peril. Lizzy grabbed her workbasket and shoved her needle deep into the pincushion; Charlotte was more concerned about her collection of Dresden shepherdesses.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” the colonel said jovially after greeting the other occupants of the room. “I cannot tell you how I have been looking forward to this moment. I never imagined that in visiting my tiresome aunt I would be blessed with such a treat. I have heard so much about you, and I can see that none of it has been exaggeration!”
“About me?” asked Elizabeth, and she glanced towards Mr Darcy in uncertainty. He had been talking about her to his cousin? And in flattering terms? Her heart skipped a beat.
“Oh no – you are wrong there. It wasn’t Darcy who told me – he is always very quiet about his lady loves – it was Miss Bingley!”
Darcy glared at the colonel, but said nothing.
Colonel Fitzwilliam unabashedly sat down beside Elizabeth and continued his lively banter. “You see – I have put him to the blush. So tell me, Miss Bennet, is this how my cousin always behaves whilst in your society? So aloof and reticent? How can he hope to win your affections if he does not dazzle you with his wit and intellect?”
Darcy cut in at last. “Please ignore my cousin, Miss Bennet. I fear at the moment he is not in his right mind, nor does he have very long to live.”
Lizzy’s growing discomposure was soothed, and her troubled expression was replaced by a barely suppressed grin.
“I will stay by your side, Miss Bennet,” said the colonel, shaking in mock alarm, “for I value my life and know that you will protect me.”
“Is Mr Darcy such a fearsome creature?” she asked with an impish grin.
“I would not dare to lose his good opinion,” avowed the colonel. “But I should not wish you to get the wrong impression. He is a sweet and gentle man – he just does not have the means to recommend himself to strangers.”
“I have not the interest,” said Darcy. “In fact, at this moment, I have sworn off relatives as well.”
“Is he not quaint?” asked the colonel, gazing endearingly into Lizzy’s eyes. “But enough about him. You must tell me all that Miss Bingley has told you of me, so that I may defend myself against her barbs.”
“She did not mention you to me at all, sir.”
“Oh woe! It is worse than I had expected. To be forgotten so soon when I thought I had made a good impression upon the lady. Miss Bennet, can you not advise me how I may put myself back in her good graces?”
“ Colonel Fitzwilliam, I believe you are talking a lot of nonsense. Did not you tell me that you had information about me from her? The two of you obviously share a closer friendship than do she and I. In fact I must admit to barely knowing the lady, so she could have no reason to make me privy to her private thoughts.”
“You relieve my mind immeasurably. To know that I am ensconced in her private thoughts is quite satisfying, though I would that she shouted it from the mountain tops.”
Lizzy giggled and Darcy took the gap in the conversation to politely ask after her family. Colonel Fitzwilliam sat back and smiled complacently.
“Just what on earth are you trying to do to me?” asked Darcy as he strode back towards Rosings, his cousin manfully keeping pace at his side.
“Only having a bit of fun at your expense, dear boy!”
“Your idea of fun and Caroline Bingley’s idea of fun are not my idea of fun.”
“Pity. I think the girl has a fondness for you.”
“Elizabeth Bennet? Don’t be absurd. She likes me as little as I like her.”
“I should have worded it differently,” mused the colonel. “I should have said she likes you as much as you like her.”
“Which is not very much at all.”
“They do say love is blind.”
“Will you not desist?”
The colonel heard how close Darcy was to true anger and decided he had teased him enough for one day. Besides, though it was true that Miss Bennet was not in a position to decline a proposal from someone as superlatively eligible as his cousin, there was just the outside chance that she was one of those pure-minded idealists who would only marry for the deepest love. But, he reflected further, there was no telling what a few of cupid’s arrows carefully placed could be capable of. He only knew for certain that he was longing to see levelheaded Darcy fall irretrievably into the baffling pit of love.
During the week Colonel Fitzwilliam visited the parsonage once or twice, but Lizzy didn’t see Mr Darcy until Easter morning in church. She was seated directly behind the de Bourgh family pew, and had a good view of the back of his head. Instead of listening to her cousin’s well-developed sermon she allowed herself to become entranced with the way his brown hair turned away against the collar of his finely tailored green coat. After the service, Lady Catherine condescendingly invited the Collinses and their guests to spend their evening at Rosings.
Lizzy was interested to see Mr Darcy in company with his cousin Anne to get some idea of his feelings for her. She had been confused by Colonel Fitzwilliam’s referral to herself as being Darcy’s lady love. For one thing, Mr Darcy did not seem to pay her any excess of attention, for another – if he was truly betrothed to his cousin as Lady Catherine and Anne had both assured her he was – why would the colonel make such a reference? Was it an example of the easy morals displayed by high society? Did the colonel expect Lizzy to become involved with his cousin in some illicit liaison? Or did Mr Darcy have tender feelings for her that he was hiding?
Lady Catherine had arranged the seating so that Colonel Fitzwilliam was on her immediate left and Darcy on her immediate right. This placed Darcy directly beside his cousin. Anne was dressed in an elaborate creation of pink gauze, embellished with flounces and strung with cochineal ribbons and bows. She was gazing up at him with undisguised admiration and fluttering her eyelashes whenever he happened to glance in her direction. He appeared to be refraining from glancing towards Anne as much as possible. As far as Lizzy could determine, based upon his evident level of disinterest, if she had been his relation he would be as likely to marry her as to marry Anne.
“We must give you some music!” cried Lady Catherine, and hustled them all into the music room where she and Anne seated themselves at twin pianofortes. “A duet! Darcy – you must turn Anne’s pages for her. Fitzwilliam will attend to mine.”
Their playing was exceptional, but the music chosen was pompous and pedantic. Lizzy was amazed that Anne did not miss a note with the way she was gazing artfully at Darcy through her thick lashes the entire time. At long last the concerto ended, and the Colonel insisted that Lizzy honour them with some music as well.
“It will be sure to be quite unequal to what you have just heard,” said Lady Catherine with a sniff, “but I suppose if she is so very eager to make a spectacle of herself we must oblige her.”
“I am not willing at all to display my singular lack of talent,” said Lizzy, somewhat stung at the inference when it had been the colonel’s idea all along.
“I have heard Miss Bennet play,” said Darcy, prompted by his aunt’s incivility, “and I have never found anything lacking.”
Lizzy cast him a smile in appreciation but only moved towards the instrument at Colonel Fitzwilliam’s urging. When she sat to play he stayed beside her to turn the pages. “Unless you would prefer my cousin’s assistance,” he whispered in her ear.
She shook her head adamantly. It was bad enough she was being forced to play after such an exemplary performance and against the wishes of her hostess. After a shaky start she managed a very simple piece without making too many startling errors. The colonel reflected that if Darcy thought nothing lacking in such indifferent playing he must indeed be a fair way to falling in love with the lady.
Lady Catherine turned to Mrs Collins and said, “Miss Eliza will never play really well – even practice cannot help the girl. We shall have to advertise her other accomplishments if we are to find her a husband.”
Darcy was by no means impressed by the performance, but he was willing to concede that it had been hampered by Miss Bennet’s unease. His aunt’s uncivil comments, however, he could not allow to go uncontested. “Not play very well? My dear Aunt Catherine you must have a tin ear.”
“I?” She cast Darcy a withering look. “My ear for music and my taste are unparalleled. I have learnt with the best masters, as has Anne. This little provincial miss was probably taught by the local parson’s wife.”
“Aunt,” said Darcy as quietly as possible, “Do you never think before you speak? You are being very insulting towards your guests.”
“I am only speaking the truth. Since when is the truth not acceptable in polite society?”
Darcy groaned. Colonel Fitzwilliam took pity on him and addressed his aunt.
“Did I hear aright that there is matchmaking afoot?”
“Yes, Fitzwilliam. I have taken it upon myself to find husbands for both Miss Bennet and Miss Lucas.”
“May I be of assistance?” asked the colonel with a grin. “I am very partial to matchmaking myself, and rather good at it, if I may be so bold as to boast.”
“So far any attempts of yours have been severely misguided,” muttered Darcy.
“I think I could find Miss Bennet a charming husband – she is such a lovely girl. Do you not agree?”
“Certainly,” said Darcy noncommittally.
“I would rather,” said Lizzy, finally finding her voice, “not have all this fuss made over my marital state. Indeed I am not on the lookout for a husband, and if I were, I would manage the matter myself.”
“Up to this point in your life you have managed it very ill indeed,” said Lady Catherine. She then ignored Lizzy’s attempts at response and turned to the colonel. “We are planning an evening’s entertainment at the parsonage. I have the guest list right here. I was thinking the coming Friday most suitable.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam perused the list quickly. “But aunt! It is incomplete – neither you nor I nor Darcy nor Anne, is on the list. And who is this Mr Simplin character? He sounds intolerably common.”
Under cover of this animated conversation Darcy turned to Lizzy and apologised for all that had taken place, and everything that was still now occurring. It was galling but he had to admit something that was as annoying as it was true: his family was on par with hers for obnoxious behaviour.
Anne was none too pleased with the attention Darcy was giving Miss Bennet and she plumped herself down on the chair beside him. This caused her dress to billow like a burgeoning flower, the amazing effect drawing his eye like none of her simpering looks had managed. “You have not complimented me on my gown tonight cousin.”
“How remiss of me,” he answered tonelessly.
“You are so droll when you are coy!”
“I am neither droll nor coy.”
“You see – that is just what I meant!” She giggled and puffed up her skirts. “Is it not the most frothy, lovely gown you have ever seen?”
“Frothy is the very word I was searching for,” said Darcy, relieved to have found something almost complimentary to say. Frothy was indeed a very good word for the concoction – it looked more like a dessert than an article of clothing. “And what is your opinion of the gown, Miss Bennet?” he asked, hoping to draw her into the conversation and take his cousin’s full focus away from himself.
“It is quite . . . pink,” she said, searching her mind for something to say that would not make her appear foolish. “Like a bouquet of delicate peonies.”
Darcy looked at Lizzy with no little admiration. She had managed her way out of that conundrum very well. He only wished he had been that inventive – and then he was glad that he had not; Anne did not need that type of encouragement.
Upon hearing the compliment, Anne did not even turn her head in Lizzy’s direction. She kept her great bovine eyes trained on Darcy’s face and contented herself with sighing every few minutes or so.
In the meantime, Colonel Fitzwilliam had severely derailed Lady Catherine’s plans for a convivial gathering of rustics at the parsonage and turned it into a gala affair at Rosings to which the cream of the community was to be invited. “Think low and you end up scraping the bottom of the barrel,” he said. “Aim high and you might just be surprised with how well your two protégés make out.” His aunt would be very surprised indeed, and rather more than miffed, if he managed to achieve the great coup he had in mind.
He was surprised to find her alone. “Colonel Fitzwilliam led me to believe that all the ladies were within,” he said. “He left his gloves behind and asked me to retrieve them as I was walking this way.”
“Gloves?” asked Lizzy. She thought it a flimsy excuse, and smiled at the notion that Mr Darcy may be attracted to her after all. She could imagine how interest in her must offend his pompous notions, and that he should be attempting to overcome such scruples was a pleasing idea. She decided that if she displayed no knowledge at all of the gloves he might leave right away, so she played for time. “I am certain that I have seen them about somewhere, but I disremember where.”
Darcy sat on the edge of his chair, rubbing his hands together absently as he waited.
‘Being alone with me has certainly unnerved him,’ thought Lizzy, and she settled herself more comfortably upon the settee. “I do not suppose your friend Mr Bingley will be returning to Netherfield,” she said. “He might as well give up the house.”
“I am not in his confidence,” said Darcy, “but if he wishes to keep it I see no reason why he should not. He may return whenever the fancy strikes him.”
“Fancy – yes. He is quite frivolous by nature.”
“I should not describe him thus.”
“Of course, your ideas on such matters would differ from mine,” allowed Lizzy. “Living the high life in London does tend to colour one’s view.”
“And relying only on highly exaggerated reports does not, I presume?”
Lizzy decided she had teased him long enough – she had no desire to lose his favour, though she was inclined to believe he must enjoy teasing – the colonel and Miss Bingley both did it mercilessly and he appeared to be quite attached to them. Some gentlemen did not look for demure sweetness in a lady. After all, if that were what he wanted he would be dragging his cousin Anne to the altar. Not that Anne needed dragging by a long shot.
“Is not this house comfortable,” she exclaimed, “despite the fact that your aunt has taken a prodigious interest in its arrangement? Mr and Mrs Collins have managed to withstand her least practical ideas.”
“My aunt means well but can sometimes be officious,” said Darcy, colouring.
‘Quite an understatement,’ thought Lizzy, but rather than continue to disparage his aunt she thought it best to turn the conversation back towards her cousin. “I think Mr Collins fortunate in his choice of a wife.”
“Indeed,” replied Darcy, “though it must be difficult for her to reside so far from her family.”
“Far!” cried Lizzy. “It is but fifty miles! Do you think that because we are so rustic distances mean more to us than those in your elevated circles? I am certain you think nothing of travelling fifty miles.”
“In a well sprung carriage and on good roads to be sure, but for Mrs Collins . . .”
“Her father has the best of carriages,” said Lizzy with great spirit. “He is a knight of the realm after all, sir. Or are you forgetting?”
Darcy looked surprised. Lizzy decided that she may have let her annoyance get the better of her and shuffled through some things on the nearest table, pretending to look for the colonel’s gloves. “I am most pleased with Kent,” she said.
Darcy mumbled something about the beauties of the countryside and began rubbing his hands together again.
Charlotte and Maria then joined them and Darcy explained that he had stopped by to retrieve Colonel Fitzwilliam’s gloves.
“There are no gloves here to my knowledge,” said Charlotte upon which he wished them all a good day and left.
“You frightened him away!”
Charlotte grinned. “Our arrival was most unpropitious. Could it be he was getting up his nerve to pop the question?”
“Only if the question had something to do with gloves,” cried Lizzy in aggravation.
“You are most tiresome,” said Darcy when he had finally tracked his cousin down. “What was the purpose of that wild goose chase? I doubt you ever wore gloves to the parsonage.”
“Too true,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam with a grin, “but when I met Mrs Collins and her sister out walking and learned that Miss Bennet was at home alone I couldn’t resist the opportunity of throwing the both of you together.”
“Have I not asked you not to meddle? I have no interest in that . . . vixen.”
“Oho! Here’s progress! Vixen you call her? She must be breaking through your defences. Next you will be calling her a saucy baggage and then there is no telling where it will end – love muffin, or something of that nature.”
Darcy eyed him with distaste. “I rue the day I ever introduced you to Caroline Bingley.”
“It does not do to be jealous,” said the colonel, his eyes gleaming, “after all we are doing our best to find a sweetheart for you.”
Darcy rolled his eyes and left the room, slamming the door behind him. The colonel settled back in his chair, smiled happily, then pulled a newspaper over his face and promptly fell asleep.
From this time on the colonel and Lady Catherine walked to the parsonage every day, occasionally accompanied by Darcy, and even by Anne if there were a carriage in the mix – Anne had no interest in walking beyond her front door. The visits all centred on the plans for the upcoming ball. One thing that Lizzy and Darcy had in common was that neither of them had the slightest interest in the affair. Thus they often found themselves in the position of having to converse, if only to avoid hearing discussions that involved white soup, the disposition of urns of hothouse flowers and which orchestra could really be trusted not to butcher Lady Catherine’s favourite cotillions.
The day of the ball dawned, and before she knew it Lizzy was having to dress for the insufferable affair. It was bad enough that Maria was running about the house in transports of delight, but Charlotte too had caught the bug and was trying to foist a set of emeralds upon Lizzy.
“They will go so well with your gown!” she appealed. “And match Mr Darcy’s eyes perfectly.”
“You heard Lady Catherine. I am to be paired with the son of some apothecary called Simplin. Heaven forbid her darling nephew should so much as look at me once.”
“Mr Simplin is not to come,” said Charlotte. “The colonel nixed that plan. But there are quite a few eligible gentlemen in these parts who I expect to pay you much attention and set Mr Darcy thinking.”
“Do you suppose that will work?” asked Lizzy, almost moved to wear the emeralds. “No – I am being completely foolish! Why am I allowing myself to fall for a man from such an utterly unattainable sphere – it is unwise for you to encourage me, Charlotte.”
“The truth of the matter is,” said Charlotte, “that you are singularly annoying, Lizzy. I want the match. The colonel wants the match. If you cooperate I am certain we three combined can convince Mr Darcy that he wants the match.”
“And what of Lady Catherine and Anne?”
“Why do you think I am going to all this trouble? It’s not for your benefit alone. I can’t wait to see the look upon their faces and hear their shrieks of horror when they discover that their prize has slipped from their grasp.”
“I do believe you are all insane,” said Lizzy, but she held her hand out for the emeralds anyway. The lure of Mr Darcy was just too much for her to withstand. Maybe if she were to snare him she could convince him to denounce his tonnish pursuits. Maybe being rich and having more pin money and jewels and carriages than she could possibly want would not be as offensive as she anticipated. If she had possession of Mr Darcy and his lustrous eyes the sacrifice might be worth it.
Rosings glittered under the light of a multitude of chandeliers. If Lizzy asked Lady Catherine she would gladly have informed her of the amount of crystals and candles used in their assembly: however Lizzy had other things on her mind. There were gentlemen to flirt with shamelessly.
Maria’s eyes grew huge when she looked at all the splendour around her. She stopped still in her tracks and became separated from her sister and Lizzy. All she could do was stare.
“It is a bit intimidating, isn’t it?” asked a young gentleman at her elbow. “Lady Catherine doesn’t know the meaning of the word abstemious.”
“Neither do I,” said Maria with a nervous giggle.
“It actually means moderate or sparing, and as you can see she has spared no expense tonight, or even spared our eyes for that matter,” he said with a smile.
“No indeed. It is very gaudy is it not?”
“However I did not approach you to discuss the décor. I was hoping you would dance with me.”
“But we have not been introduced,” Maria said reluctantly.
“I can remedy that,” he said. “Miss . . .” he glanced at her expectantly.
“Lucas.”
“Miss Lucas, may I present to you Mr Dalton as a most desirable dance partner? Mr Dalton, this lovely young lady is Miss Lucas.”
Maria giggled.
“Now that we have been properly introduced, may I have the pleasure of this dance?”
“I would be honoured, sir,” said Maria giving him a small curtsey.
Lizzy glanced back in time to see them walk onto the dance floor. “Who is that gentleman with your sister?” she asked Charlotte.
Charlotte turned and looked. “It is the squire’s son. They appear to be dealing quite well together.” Her face became dreamy and her eyes began to glaze over.
“That is most charming for your sister, but where are all the gentlemen you foretold would be swooning at my feet? I thought these emeralds were supposed to make me irresistible.”
“You do look most lovely,” said Charlotte in confusion. “I really cannot imagine what is going on.”
And neither could Lizzy. The eligible gentlemen seemed to be shunning her like the plague. In fact they were all lined up in front of Anne and she was busy writing names upon her dance card.
The colonel sidled up. “It is working like a charm,” he whispered into Charlotte’s ear. “Anne is so excited about the attention I am sure she will forget to save a space on her card for Darcy. He knows he will be obliged to ask her eventually but for now he’s just biding his time.”
“Is he in on it?” she asked, incredulous.
“Oh no – deceit of any kind is his abhorrence and all that, but he’s just so deuced reticent that he hasn’t built up the courage to approach her. It takes a bit of nerve to face such slavish devotion, and I have played it to our advantage.”
“But – what about his approaching Lizzy?”
The colonel drew Charlotte away, glanced over to where Lizzy stood, and then continued in a considerably lowered voice. “I have that all under control – do you dare doubt me?”
“Yes,” responded Charlotte. “You said the emeralds you loaned me would do the trick but Lizzy has had no takers at all.”
“Upon consideration I realised that making Darcy envious was a fruitless endeavour, so instead I decided we would exploit his tender soul. He cannot bear injustice. If she is eschewed he will be at her side to rescue her from humiliation.”
“And just how did you manage to dissuade all these young men from dancing with someone as outright divine as dear Lizzy?” asked Charlotte thinking that the colonel indeed must have a silver tongue.
“I told them that she was a penniless adventuress and that the emeralds are paste.”
“Are they?” asked Charlotte with interest.
“No, they are worth a king’s ransom – but none of these lummoxes can tell the difference. If they had any discernment they wouldn’t have believed the first part of my assertion either.” He winked at Charlotte. “Here comes your husband. I had better leave before he plants me a facer in a jealous rage.”
“You and the colonel enjoyed quite an intimate tête-à-tête,” said Lizzy petulantly when Charlotte returned to her side.
“We did indeed!” Charlotte smiled dulcetly as her husband took her hand and led her to the floor.
Lizzy felt like a complete fool standing by the side of the dance floor dance after dance while everyone displayed their abilities before her in a happy array. The only other person who was not dancing was Mr Darcy. He stood on the other side of the room leaning against a pillar looking more handsome than any Greek god and just as beyond her reach. She groaned in frustration. The whole idea had been silly anyway and she had no clue why she had allowed Charlotte to talk her into it.
She was done with yearning for what she could not have, or even wishing for one of the other gentleman to ask her to dance. They were of the same breed as the men she spurned regularly in Hertfordshire so why should she even care if none had found her tolerable enough to dance with? She wandered away from the ballroom in search of refreshment, when she spied an open door leading outside onto the balcony. She slipped outdoors and leaned against the balustrade, looking at the full moon.
“It is impressive is it not?” came Mr Darcy’s voice from behind her.
She sighed. “Much more so than fifty chandeliers, though you probably would not agree with me.”
“You are forever crediting me with opinions not my own,” said Mr Darcy as he came up beside her.
She gasped at the sheer beauty of his face silvered by the moonlight. And to think it would all be wasted on Anne some day.
“I came to ask if you would do me the honour of joining me on the dance floor.”
Lizzy thought she beheld pity in his eyes, but it may just have been an effect of the silver light and anyway she was beyond caring – to dance with him was what she had craved since she had walked through the grand entrance hall of Rosings, all swathed in reams of ivory silk and huge vases of exotic lilies.
She gave him her hand and smiled. When they were back in the ballroom she studied his eyes more carefully. She could not understand exactly what she saw there but her heart beat rapidly at the thought it might be admiration. At any rate, looking in his eyes was a heady experience and for the rest of the ball she could barely think at all.
Later that evening Darcy accosted Colonel Fitzwilliam among the wreckage of wilting flowers and drooping silks.
“What on earth induced you to lend the Fitzwilliam emeralds to Miss Bennet?”
“I thought at least I could get you to look at her, if only to conjecture if she had secretly stolen my heart – and then you might notice what a damnably fine young lady she is.”
“I have never questioned her beauty, though I have often wondered if you are indeed in possession of such thing as a heart.”
The colonel laughed. “You know the answer to that one. I lost it almost a year ago to my sweet Caroline.”
“So marry the chit already!”
“You know we are only waiting until her brother becomes settled – she cannot bear to leave him whilst he is unattached.”
Darcy’s face twisted into a worried frown. “I do not know how long you will have to wait, then. His despondency grows with each passing day.”
“And I have to get you off my hands too,” the colonel added lightly.
“Then why pick a lady from a family set against fortunes? Well, not the mother, of course – a more avaricious harpy I have yet to meet – but Miss Jane and Miss Elizabeth have hearts of stone.”
‘Ah – but when you crack stone that is indeed an achievement,’ mused Colonel Fitzwilliam. He eyed his cousin with unabashed delight. He sensed that the great Darcy’s hard heart was about to shatter into smithereens.
Posted on Tuesday, 25 October 2005
Darcy walked through the lovely paths of the woodland park that surrounded his aunt’s estate, but all the verdant greenery, twittering birds, and burgeoning spring flowers made no impression upon him. He was in the worst of moods. That morning he had received a letter from his dear friend Bingley, and the poor man sounded more dispirited than ever. He never mentioned it in so many words, but he was desperately lovelorn. He kept harking upon Hertfordshire and how he wished he could leave the increasingly complicated business matters that had taken him to London and return there. Though he would not put such behaviour beyond her sister, Darcy had never expected Miss Jane Bennet to be so cruel. Miss Bingley had not had so much as a note from her since the one in which the invitation was rejected – all her other letters had gone unanswered.
Footsteps disturbed Darcy from his reverie, and he looked up to see Mr Collins approaching him. He was relieved because his first thought upon hearing the sound was that it might be Miss Elizabeth Bennet who had disturbed many a solitary ramble of his. Each time politeness had compelled him to walk with her, but today it would have taken much more than politeness to endure her scornful company. Mr Collins, however, was a gentleman he held in some respect.
Mr Collins smiled sheepishly at Darcy. “I hope I have not disturbed you. I’ve been out picking bluebells for my darling wife. I do hope your aunt does not mind me denuding her fields of their flowers.”
“I don’t believe she ever even comes this way so there is no need to worry. Are you going much further?”
“I was about to turn when I noticed you. Would you care to accompany me for a space?”
Darcy agreed and they walked towards the parsonage together.
“You are to leave Kent this Saturday, I understand,” said Mr Collins.
“I hope so – my cousin the colonel keeps extending our visit, but as the ball is over he has no excuses left.”
“A lively fellow with a flair for entertaining!”
“As a younger son he ought to be inured to self denial,” said Darcy with a smile, “but he has no such tendencies.”
“I wonder he does not marry.”
“He assures me he will once Bingley and I have done so.”
“Ah yes – your friend Bingley. I had hopes for him and my cousin Jane, but unfortunately Elizabeth was dead set against the match. For some reason she distrusts your friend – I cannot quite fathom it.”
“Miss Elizabeth takes prodigious care of her sister.”
“Oh yes. Jane follows her lead, no matter how ill advised it may be. I dare swear her heart was broken when Mr Bingley left Netherfield, but she did as Lizzy counselled and renounced him. She is in London now, staying with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, but so much occupied as to not go out in society at all.”
“In London all this time?”
“Indeed.”
“And Miss Elizabeth has mentioned nothing to me of the matter – afraid, no doubt, that I would send word to Bingley. I would call her interference officious.”
“I prefer to think it misguided,” said Collins. “But I thought you should know of it nonetheless. I expect you to do what you think best with this information – remember, love can surmount all odds.”
They had reached the parsonage gate by this time. Darcy excused himself from an invitation to come in and set off in deep reflection. What gave Miss Elizabeth Bennet the right to disdain his friend? To separate him from the girl he loved? Bingley was all goodness! His understanding excellent, his mind improved, his manners captivating, his coffers overflowing. The agitation this subject occasioned brought on anger that was barely within his control. She was to drink tea at Rosings that night and he swore he would manage a few minutes alone with her to confront her with all he now knew.
As they were getting ready to leave for Rosings, Charlotte looked over at Lizzy and recoiled in shock. “My dear, you are so very pale. Are you unwell?”
“Not at all.”
“Surely you must be ill. A pounding headache? Something of that sort?”
Lizzy caught her meaning. “Not till next week, Charlotte.”
“Well, at any event you look ghastly. I will not have you walking all the way to Rosings and enduring sipping tea in Lady Catherine’s overheated drawing room. Why, you might faint away!”
Lizzy looked in the mirror and sighed. She was a trifle pale, to be sure, but that was only because she had been kept awake half the night by visions of Mr Darcy gazing into her eyes, and the feel of his hand upon hers as they had danced. She was turning into a lovesick fool and it truly annoyed her. Maybe it would be better to stay out of his company tonight, though she longed for it so much. It was unhealthy to yearn for something so far above her that she could never have it, and it was hypocritical too. He represented everything she held in contempt. Why did he have to be so intelligent? So slyly humorous? So exceedingly gorgeous?
“You are right, Charlotte,” she said resignedly. “I am not up to an evening in Lady Catherine’s company. Please extend my regrets.”
“I will make sure that everyone, especially Mr Darcy, knows how deeply you shall miss them tonight,” said Charlotte with a wink.
When the party from the parsonage entered the drawing room at Rosings, Colonel Fitzwilliam made a great deal about the missing Miss Bennet.
“Poor, sweet young lady to be all on her own this evening when she could have been enjoying our society. But a headache in company is not to be suffered. She will be missed desperately tonight, by some more than by others – eh Darcy?”
Darcy inclined his head, but his sullen expression did not change. He had wanted to speak to her and now he could not. His annoyance knew no bounds – the last thing he needed were his cousin’s paltry attempts at innuendo.
“She did right to stay home,” said Lady Catherine. “I would not have sickness brought to my dear Anne – she is so very susceptible.”
Anne did her best to look wan, but the robustness of her form and the rosy hue of her cheeks belied her attempts.
“Indeed!” cried the colonel. “And I cannot help but think that left on her own as she is she will recover with alacrity, and be wishing away her solitary state before the evening is out.”
“I do think she would be up to entertaining at least one visitor,” agreed Charlotte. “Maria begged to stay, but Lizzy would not deny her the pleasure of Rosings.”
“Your sister is a very good sort of girl,” said Lady Catherine.
Darcy decided that Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mrs Collins were looking too smug for their own good. It had been impossible to miss the emphasis they had put upon the fact that Miss Bennet was alone, and perhaps lonely. Well, he would allow them to think they had caught him in their snare.
“If you will excuse me, Aunt Catherine,” said Darcy. “I have a business matter of great import that I must deal with at once.”
“What could be pressing enough to take you away from us at this time of evening?” asked Lady Catherine in dismay. “Anne has been so looking forward to playing for you, and then completing that game of chess you two had begun yesterday.”
Anne simpered and preened.
Darcy thought of the chessboard with its unusually arranged pieces – another good reason to high tail it out of there. “It is a matter of the heart,” he said softly.
Anne giggled. Lady Catherine decided that he must be composing a proposal and made no further demur. The colonel gave Charlotte a significant wink. Mr Collins looked thoughtful. Maria sat with her hands primly in her lap and wished that Mr Dalton had also been invited to drink tea, and then resigned herself to a perfectly boring evening.
When Lizzy heard the doorbell ring her heart leapt in her chest. Charlotte’s reasons for leaving her behind had not been lost upon her, but she could hardly credit that Mr Darcy had been brought up to scratch. However when he strode into the room with a very determined expression upon his face she was impelled to believe what she had heretofore thought impossible. Mr Darcy had come to propose!
He sat for a few moments and then got up and walked about the room. Lizzy waited in anticipation. After an unbroken silence he advanced towards her in utmost agitation and began, “In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. One ought never stand in the way of true love!”
Lizzy could contain herself no longer. She jumped to her feet, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him most fervently. His astonishment was beyond expression. If Lizzy had seen his face she might have held back what she was about to say, but she could not prevent the words from spilling forth as she leaned her head against his shoulder. The avowal of all she felt and had long felt stumbled out rather incoherently, and the subject of pride was not overborne by her more tender declarations.
“I know you have had to grapple with my inferiority just as I have had to come to terms with the degradation to all my principles that marriage to you will entail. The wealth, the self-importance of your family, the frivolous pursuits of the rich – these are all things that I swore I would never be drawn into. I have tried to fight my growing attachment and love for you, but in vain. I have gone against my very nature and fallen for you irrevocably – I love you beyond endurance and find myself willing to give up every decent principle I have ever upheld for the sake of being your wife. Just a look from your eyes makes me almost wanton in my desire to be close to you.”
Darcy stepped back in shock. Though he could not help but feel it was a compliment to be loved so very passionately and he was sorry for the pain and embarrassment she was about to receive, he was afraid that if anyone were to walk into the room they would immediately think he was compromising her and not the other way around. He had no desires to be forced into a marriage with someone he disliked as much as Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
“I am afraid there has been a misunderstanding,” he said hesitantly.
“A misunderstanding?” asked Lizzy, her face turning white.
“I did not come to propose, but to discuss another matter entirely.”
“Not propose? But you said . . .your feelings could not be repressed . . . one ought not stand in the way of true love . . . what is that if not a proposal? You were not offering me a carte blanche were you? I cannot believe it! I am a gentleman’s daughter – I would never stoop so low as to become a mistress!” Lizzy blushed deeply as she recalled how she had thrown herself into his arms. “And don’t let my behaviour right now lead you to think otherwise. Or what I said about wanton desire. I am a lady and can only be had through marriage! Oh – how did I ever allow myself to be carried away so foolishly as to expect anything more from someone of your ilk!”
Darcy stiffened at the insult, but persevered with his intent. “I was not referring to you and me when I mentioned love. I have never felt the slightest bit of regard for you. From the very first I was impressed by your disdain of my station in life. You mocked me as a pawn of society at every opportunity. And were it not for that I have other reasons for my deep-seated dislike. How can you defend yourself against your treatment of Wickham – ruining his future prospects with your lies?”
“You take an eager interest in that gentleman!” Lizzy almost spat out the words.
“How could I not upon hearing of his misfortunes?”
“His misfortunes! Was it he who led you to believe I could be convinced to become your courtesan?”
“I desire neither to bed you nor to wed you! He only let me see that you could heartlessly break a man of his spirit, and that it was merely a game to you. Why I came here tonight was to charge you with destroying the happiness of my best friend. Can you deny you have done it?”
“Destroy his happiness – that’s a laugh! I do not deny that I separated Mr Bingley from my sister. She is such a sweet innocent she could not see that his intention was merely to use her and discard her like all you so-called gentlemen of the ton do. I am proud that I protected her from his advances, and I would do it again most readily if the situation ever arose.”
“And this is your opinion of the gentry? That we are debauchers of country maidens? Our faults are very great indeed – it is a wonder that you profess to love me when you hold me and my kind in such contempt.”
“It must be a blow to your pride to know what I have had to struggle against,” said Lizzy, only her anger keeping her from breaking down. “And I am not ashamed of my scruples – should I have flattered you and said that I was overtaken by unqualified, unalloyed inclination? To rejoice that I had allowed myself to be attracted by someone whose way of life was so alien to my own? Now I am only left to be ashamed of what my feelings were in light of your very evident dislike.”
“You are mistaken, Miss Bennet. You overestimate my pride – your struggles do not affect me in any way but to pity you in your predicament. I am sorry that you inadvertently professed your love to me. I do not want to cause you pain, but in light of your many prejudices I am confident it will be of short duration. I will only say one more thing in parting. I plan to tell Mr Bingley that your sister is in town. He loves her dearly and is completely lost without her. I have long believed her to be in love with him too. If you do not hold her happiness above your erroneous conjectures, be assured that I do.”
With that he strode from the room. Lizzy had a mad desire to shout after him to accept her best wishes for his health and happiness, but she crumpled to the ground, her mind in tumult. Had she really professed her love to him? Thrown herself upon him and kissed him in a depraved manner? How could she ever face him again? As she remembered the kiss she broke down into tears of grief.
When Charlotte got home it was very evident that her and the colonel’s scheme had gone severely amiss.