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Elizabeth had been apprehensive of Mr Collins’s reaction following the episode at Lucas Lodge, but she was surprised by his lack of loquacity on the subject. Indeed, he was unnaturally quiet during dinner that evening—to the extent of causing Mr Bennet to enquire after his health. Mr Collins’s usual compliments to Elizabeth were markedly absent and Elizabeth could see her mother looking at him worriedly, while casting suspicious glances on her second daughter. Elizabeth avoided her mother’s eye and attempted to show great interest in the food on the table. She was relieved when Mr Collins announced that he would retire early that evening and even more relieved the next morning when she went downstairs to discover that he had left the house already. This pattern continued for the next few days, with frequent, mysterious absences on the part of their cousin.
“One wonders where he goes at such an hour!” wailed Mrs Bennet at breakfast on the third morning. “Not to break the fast with the family... it is most peculiar. Did he not say where he was going, Hill?” she asked the housekeeper, who had bustled in with a tray of warm rolls.
“No, ma’am,” said Hill, placing the tray on the dining table. “Just that he’d be gone for the morning and not to expect him back till the afternoon.”
“Well, I shall be glad to have the library to myself,” said Mr Bennet with satisfaction.
Lydia and Kitty also proclaimed loudly their relief at not having to listen to Mr Collins lecture them on propriety and good conduct. Mary did not join in their censure for she quite approved of Mr Collins’s sermons. If Jane had any uncharitable thoughts towards their cousin, she kept them to herself, merely continuing her breakfast with a serene countenance.
Mrs Bennet however, remained most vexed and railed loudly against Mr Collins for the rest of the meal. “...and not a word yet about the proposal to our Lizzy! I would have expected him to have made his intentions known by now. He did expressly tell me that he would be attempting to redress the injustice of the entail by choosing a wife from among his cousins. So why is he not here paying his addresses to Lizzy? Where could he have gone at such an early hour...?”
Elizabeth attempted to turn a deaf ear to her mother’s tirade. She did not care where Mr Collins had gone—she was simply relieved that he was not there embarrassing her with his clumsy attempts at gallantry. Perhaps her escapade in the woods had cooled his ardour and changed his mind with regards to her suitability as his future wife. She dwelled on this theory with satisfaction. All the better!
“Oh, never mind Mr Collins,” Lydia said impatiently. “Mama, may we go into Meryton after breakfast? I have been unable to find a gown from my wardrobes that is in the right shade of green for my elf costume. I shall need to search for some fabric to fashion my costume from an original pattern.”
“And I too,” chimed in Kitty. “I should like some fabric for creating the additional large sleeves to attach to my Oriental gown.”
“Of course you may, my love,” said Mrs Bennet. “Indeed, you may help me search for something suitable for my costume too.”
“Are you contemplating a disguise?” asked Mr Bennet in surprise from the other end of the table.
Mrs Bennet simpered. “Well, it behoves us to enter into the spirit of the masquerade, Mr Bennet,” she said. “I think it no indignity to emulate a noble figure. Lady Lucas informed me that she will be going as Cleopatra. Therefore, I should like a costume of equal consequence.”
“Why do you not go as the Queen of Sheba?” asked Mr Bennet with a twinkle in his eye.
“Ah, that is a good notion, Mr Bennet!” said Mrs Bennet. “But what shall I use for costume?”
“You must look the exotic for she is known as the Queen of the South in the Bible,” said Lydia helpfully. “Perhaps you can find something to darken your complexion.”
“Darken my complexion?” cried Mrs Bennet in horror. “Certainly not! I’ll have you know that I go to great effort to stay out of the sun and maintain my pale colouring.”
“Perhaps you can simply suggest the exotic through your make-up and clothing,” said Jane gently. “I have heard that the ladies of the South are wont to highlight their eyes.”
Mrs Bennet nodded. “Lady Lucas told me that she would be attempting something similar in her transformation into Cleopatra. I must ask her what she intends to use for cosmetic application. She mentioned lamp black mixed with a little oil, I believe... Indeed,” she giggled, “when I was a young girl, there was much talk of my fine eyes.”
After breakfast, the girls prepared to walk into Meryton together. Elizabeth was pleased that her ankle had healed enough for her to contemplate the exercise and she wondered if they might encounter Wickham en route again. She found herself almost wishing for it to occur, though she chided herself for such improper thoughts. However, though she searched keenly for some sign of the highwayman during the entire walk, their journey was without interruption and they soon arrived in Meryton. It was a busy market day and the village was alive with the comings and goings of tradesmen and local residents.
“Look, Kitty! There! The bonnet in that window—it would surely suit as an elf’s cap, if I altered the shape and added some trimmings,” said Lydia, dragging her sister across the main thoroughfare to view a shop window on the other side of the street.
Elizabeth’s own attention was diverted to a different window display where she was pleased to see a woven gold belt which resembled a girdle. It would do very well for her medieval costume. Accompanied by Jane, she entered the store and soon made her purchase. They were further distracted by the discovery of a quantity of sheer fabric which would make the perfect medieval veil. Before long, Elizabeth had also purchased several lengths of the sheer fabric and a small loop of silver wire which could be twisted to form a medieval circlet.
Feeling well pleased with her purchases, Elizabeth left the store with Jane and went in search of her other sisters, eager to see if they had had similar luck in finding materials for their costumes. As they came out onto the high street again, she was surprised to see a crowd of people gathered on the other side of the thoroughfare. A closer look showed that Kitty and Lydia were at the centre of the crowd, and that Lydia in particular was busily talking. Her voice was loud enough to drift across the distance, and Elizabeth and Jane were horrified to hear her loudly denouncing Mr Darcy. She was relating the story of Wickham’s abuse at Mr Darcy’s hands and the people around her were listening wide-eyed, many of them shaking their heads in shock and sympathy. Mr Darcy was not well liked in Hertfordshire—his reserved manner and autocratic attitude had earned him the reputation of being a proud, disagreeable man. By contrast, there were many now who had heard the stories of Wickham’s charming exploits and who were inclined to think well of him. His romantic reputation had captured the public imagination, particularly that of the ladies.
Elizabeth hastened across the high street, intent on silencing Lydia before her youngest sister did further damage, but to her dismay, she saw that her efforts were too late. Even as she watched, two gentlemen appeared on the other side of the street and were obliged to pause next to the crowd as they found their way barred by the sheer number of people. They were Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy.
“Oh Lizzy!” cried Jane, hurrying beside her. “They must not hear what Lydia is saying!”
Alas, so loud and strident was Lydia’s tone that it would have been impossible for anyone in Meryton not to hear what she was saying, unless they were profoundly deaf. Elizabeth saw the two gentlemen’s countenances change as they heard her sister’s voice and realised of what she was speaking:
“... and who would have thought that such a high and mighty man as Mr Darcy could treat another so abominably? Indeed, considering his position in life, it is even more reprehensible behaviour! For it would not have cost him anything to take pity on poor Wickham and make allowances for the other’s situation. But I wager Mr Darcy must know his own faults for when he met Wickham the other day, the dismay on his countenance was evident for all to see! I thought it the most cowardly behaviour for him to let the highwayman escape, but now we know the truth. ’Tis because he is ashamed of his—”
“Lydia!” said Jane severely as they pushed their way through the crowd to join their youngest sister. “It is most unseemly of you to be talking like this. Did we not specifically instruct you to not speak on this subject in public?”
“I do not see why I should keep such news to myself,” retorted Lydia. “Everyone should know what Mr Darcy is. Why, Lizzy herself had the story directly from Wickham whom she found a most amiable companion. Indeed, did she not say that she wished circumstances were different, that she might meet Wickham and enjoy his company in polite society? Such would be the case for all of us, were it not for the interfering actions of Mr Darcy!”
Elizabeth saw Darcy stiffen, then he turned his head and their eyes met. She was pierced by the recrimination in his gaze. She wanted to cry out, to protest. For some reason, she could not bear the thought of him thinking ill of her. She felt a sudden, desperate need to explain, to apologise. She watched helplessly as he said not a word but simply turned and walked away from the crowd, to the other side of the street.
By now, many had become aware of the two gentlemen’s presence and several people were looking uncomfortable, muttering in embarrassment and hurrying away with their heads down and their gazes averted. Even Lydia faltered into silence now that she realised Mr Darcy and his friend were in her audience. The remainder of the crowd lingered for a few moments longer, hoping for more drama to witness, but with the dampening presence of the eldest Bennet girls, there was no more hope for further gossip and they soon left, disappointed.
Bingley hurried over to Jane’s side, concerned that the entire episode might have caused her distress and keen to reassure of her of his own understanding. He had been doing some shopping in Meryton, he explained, in preparation for the ball. It was unfortunate that Darcy should have been accompanying him and that they should have chanced upon the crowd at that moment.
Unfortunate indeed! Had they come by a few moments earlier or later, they would not have been in a position to hear such slanderous gossip. Elizabeth stood quietly next to Jane and Mr Bingley as they continued talking, but her thoughts were still with the tall gentleman who stood on the other side of the street. She felt again that desperate need to speak to him and, with Bingley still engrossed in conversation with her sister, she took the opportunity to leave their side and hurry across the main thoroughfare.
Darcy had been faced away, contemplating the view in the distance, but he turned as she approached him, obviously alerted by the sound of her footsteps. Elizabeth was taken aback by the flash of anger and hostility in his dark eyes as he looked at her. It was nothing like the way he had looked at her before.
She made him a hasty curtsy and said without preamble, “Sir, you must give me leave to apologise for my sister. She is but fifteen years old and young in the ways of the world—indeed, she knows not of what she was speaking.”
“It seems that she was speaking of intelligence obtained from you,” he said coldly. “Was she not merely repeating your own assertions on the subject? That Wickham had suffered cruelly under my hand and that you hold me entirely to blame for his misfortunes?”
“Nay, sir, that was not my conclusion,” protested Elizabeth. “Lydia had overheard me as I was recounting to my sister, Jane, the details of my accidental encounter with Wickham. I was merely acquainting her with Wickham’s story of his childhood and how he had arrived at his present circumstances.” She paused, then added in a smaller voice, “It is true that I was shocked by his words, but I—”
“So you did not think to doubt his account of me?” said Darcy. “You accepted my culpability without question and joined him in immediately condemning me.”
“I...” Elizabeth hesitated.
In truth, what Darcy had said was accurate. She had been quick to judge and condemn him, and accept Wickham’s word, without pausing to wait for verification of the charges laid against Darcy’s door. Perhaps she had been seduced by the highwayman’s charming manner after all, Elizabeth reflected wryly. She—who had always prided herself on her non-susceptibility to flattery—had been no better than any other female! Now that she was here with Darcy, it was difficult to believe him a dishonourable man. Though his manners could be austere, even caustic, one could not help but feel that his character was noble, his integrity unquestionable. Standing before him now, she did not know how she could have doubted him.
“Mr Darcy, I—”
“There is no need to explain, Miss Bennet,” he said curtly. “I quite understand your feelings and have only to regret that my confidence in you was misplaced.”
“No, indeed, Mr Darcy,” protested Elizabeth. “You mistake my feelings entirely—”
“There is no need to explain further, madam. I bid you good day.” Darcy gave her a slight bow, then turned and walked away.
Elizabeth stood staring after him. His dismissal felt like a blow across her face. Anger, hurt, indignation, and humiliation overcame her as she struggled with her emotions. Odious man! Why would he not listen to her explanations? And why should I care? she asked herself. She had never sought Mr Darcy’s good regard and now that she had lost it, why should she be distressed at the loss? It should have mattered little to her whether or not he believed her capable of so easily condemning him.
Yet somehow, it did matter.
With her thoughts in a tumult, Elizabeth returned to her sister’s side. Mr Bingley was just taking his leave and he bowed once more as Elizabeth joined them.
“Miss Bennet, forgive me for not greeting you properly earlier,” he said.
Elizabeth glanced at Lydia, who was standing to the side, then said dryly, “It is no matter. You had come upon us in some confusion.” She paused, then added, “I have been attempting to apologise to Mr Darcy for my sister’s remarks. I hope that you will impress upon him our deepest apologies.”
Bingley looked slightly apprehensive. “I shall, to the best of my ability,” he said. “I’m sure, when Darcy has had time to contemplate the situation, he will take your sister’s youth and high spirits into account and find it in his heart to forgive her.”
“Mr Bingley, you are all understanding,” said Elizabeth warmly. She thought regretfully that it was a shame Lydia’s indiscretion had involved Darcy instead of Bingley. The latter would have been easily persuaded to overlook the incident whereas the former... She recalled once again a conversation she had had with Darcy during her stay at Netherfield Park. He had admitted that he did not forgive readily and that his temper, once insulted, was not easily placated.
“Do not distress yourself, Miss Bennet,” said Bingley, giving her a reassuring smile. “I am sure Darcy will come round eventually. And now I had better join him afore he quits Hertfordshire altogether!”
With a last lingering look at Jane, he bowed to them all, then turned and hurried off in search of his friend.
