part0008

Soon after Dr Halstone escorted her mother to her chambers, Elizabeth left her father in Mary’s capable hands and made her way towards the breakfast parlour. Roused by the commotion, Kitty was already there, and she received the news of her father’s improved condition with obvious delight.

With some alarm, Kitty then inquired about the source of the disturbance, then speculated on what Dr Halstone might have said to their mother to render her so subdued. Elizabeth could only guess but, in view of the doctor’s instructions the previous night, her assumptions could not be too far off the mark.

They were in earnest conversation about ways to persuade their mother, and particularly Lydia, to be more attentive to their father’s comfort – not knowing that Mrs Bennet had perforce been already persuaded – when the sound of a carriage drew their attention.

“You should not spy from the window, Kitty, ‘tis hardly ladylike,” Elizabeth remonstrated, but without conviction. After a day and a night such as they had endured, they deserved any entertainment they could get.

“Oh, Lizzy, do not scold. ‘Tis Jane. She is come,” Kitty said, and both sisters hastened out to meet the carriage, which had by then come to a halt before their door.

It was indeed Jane, but she was not alone. Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy had accompanied the carriage on horseback.

As Elizabeth and Kitty hurried outside, Mr Bingley, who was the first to dismount, made it his business to open the door for Jane and hand her down, then greeted the Miss Bennets. Mr Darcy dismounted more leisurely and handed the reins to a stable lad, before turning towards the ladies, by which time he had lost all their attention, as Elizabeth and Kitty rushed to embrace their sister and reply to her eager questions .

“What news? What news, Lizzy? How does Papa?”

“Better! He is better, Jane, heaven be praised!” Elizabeth exclaimed with fervour, tears sparkling in her eyes, and Darcy caught his breath at the glorious sight.

She was the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld. Without a doubt, she was. Love shone in her eyes as clearly as the glimmer of tears, and Darcy was shaken to the core to witness it.

The thought of such light being sparked by love for him filled him with a longing so powerful, so sudden, that he almost betrayed himself. Almost, but not quite. Years of rigorous discipline served him well, and Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley was able to step forward with perfect civility, as well as a semblance of composure, when the ladies were ready to greet him and his friend.

“Mr Bingley,” Elizabeth spoke for herself and Kitty, “I thank you for returning our sister to us. And Mr Darcy,” she added, with a smile that lit up her face and her eyes. “A pleasure to see you, Sir.”

‘You poor wretched fool,’ Darcy berated himself, as her friendly look and undivided attention was quick to undermine all manner of valiant efforts and wise resolutions.

To have thought all this time that she enjoyed his company as they bantered! The folly of it, and indeed the arrogant presumption. This was how she looked when she was pleased to see him. In view of her comment in the library, there was good reason to believe that previously she could barely tolerate him, and what he had regarded as friendly banter had been nothing of the sort, to her way of thinking.

The irony of himself being barely tolerable did not escape him and was quite welcome, on closer inspection, as it brought a smile to his lips and prevented him from feeling something akin to despondency.

“I am delighted to hear of your father’s improvement, Miss Bennet,” Bingley said, his eyes just for Jane. “May I offer my warmest congratulations.”

Darcy seconded his friend with sentiments as sincere although more sedately expressed, and the ladies thanked them both, before extending an invitation to the house for some refreshment.

“We would not wish to intrude…”Bingley said half-heartedly, but as there was a general wish that they accepted the invitation, not much persuasion was required until everyone made their way within .

Refreshments were ordered, and Jane excused herself to see her father, followed by Kitty. Much to Bingley’s delight, Jane returned promptly, as Mr Bennet was currently resting, and a few minutes later Dr Halstone joined them too. He bowed to the assembled company, then turned with a broad smile towards Darcy.

“I am delighted to see you, Sir. I heard you were visiting, and I could not deny myself the pleasure of paying my respects.”

Darcy bowed in response, with considerably less reserve than he had exhibited since his arrival.

“The pleasure is mine, as well as the gratitude for your efforts on Mr Bennet’s behalf,” he said, advancing towards the other man, and they greeted each other with the obvious mutual respect of well-bred people of excellent understanding.

Elizabeth looked up, knowing full well she could not leave it at that. Earnestly regarding them, she intervened:

“I would like to take this opportunity, gentlemen, to thank you both for saving my father’s life. Let me assure you that your unprecedented kindness is deeply felt by this family,” – Jane nodded solemnly at this – “and that I owe you a debt of gratitude which can never be repaid.”

Not many of those present knew Darcy well enough to see that he was none too pleased to hear it. As it happened, nobody noticed, not even Bingley. Everyone’s attention was drawn to the physician, when he replied:

“In all honesty, I cannot take the credit. Your father was simply ready to awaken from the shock he had suffered, quite independently of anything I might have done. In truth, all I did was keep an eye on his progress.”

Just then, refreshments were brought in, precluding any further reply, and Elizabeth and Jane began to busy themselves with serving the tea and coffee. Only Dr Halstone noticed Darcy taking a few steps back to withdraw towards one of the windows, as he often did, and joined him there.

“You are well, I hope, Mr Darcy,” he casually inquired.

“Quite so, I thank you,” the other roused himself from private ruminations. “You need not be concerned on my behalf,” he quipped to mask his discomfort. “I have no intention to see you as a patient during your stay in Hertfordshire. However, I would appreciate an interview before you leave the country,” he added with sudden earnestness. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to call upon me at Netherfield Park? ‘Tis but three miles north of here, beyond Meryton, and it belongs to my friend Mr Bingley, with whom I believe you are already acquainted.”

“Indeed we are,” Bingley said. “In fact, I was wondering if you would care to come to stay with us, Dr Halstone. That is, when you decide that Mr Bennet no longer requires constant attendance, but might still benefit from occasional visits.”

“You are very kind, Sir,” the physician replied noncommittally, as no such plans could as yet be fixed, then excused himself to see to some draughts which needed to be ordered for Mr Bennet from the local apothecary.

Shortly afterwards, Bingley asked Miss Bennet if she cared to take a refreshing stroll around the gardens after the anxieties of the day, and if he might be allowed to escort her. This was demurely but with obvious pleasure accepted and, to Darcy’s mortification and delight, he found himself alone with Elizabeth.

Every form of reason urged him to keep to the window – yet he found himself propelled back towards the sofa, to take a seat beside her.

“Are you well, Miss Bennet?” Darcy inquired with a gentleness of address he could not subdue. “You must be very tired.”

“I am,” she smiled, “but ‘tis of no consequence. My father is well, and that is all the restorative I need at present. Pray allow me to thank you again for your role in this affair.”

The answer was simple, and it came to him in a flash. He did not want her gratitude. He wanted her love. Ah, but to what purpose? That was the material point.

Darcy forced such thoughts aside to address the task at hand. He could not let her dwell on a false sense of obligation, nor see him as a passer-by who condescended to scatter good deeds just as fancy took him. It was a favourable light perhaps, but he did not want that. He wanted her to understand, at least in part. He could not tell her everything – he knew he should not – but he could at least disclose a fraction of the truth .

“My excellent father died five years ago, after a long illness,” he said quietly, “yet the pain of separation is still fresh, for both myself and my sister. You are very close to your father, ‘tis plain to see, and I could not have you suffer his loss, if I could prevent it. Nor see your family deprived of his guidance and protection,” he added hastily as he squared his shoulders and brought himself to look away.

Elizabeth nodded in appreciation of the sentiment, failing to catch the undertones of a preference, so incautiously implied. She would have missed them even if they were more marked, for her thoughts were elsewhere. She found herself utterly mystified by the gentleman before her. Even more strangely still, she found herself rather lost for words, which in itself was an unsettling novelty in her dealings with him. She had wilfully plagued and teased him, always bordering on the uncivil, always aiming to settle a score. And now it emerged that Mr Darcy was human after all, and a good man at that, and Elizabeth was at a loss about how to respond to that without the aid of her usual archness, and particularly how to respond to the heartfelt disclosure he had just made.

“I am sorry to hear that,” she said at last. “I did not know…”

“You could not have. It is not generally known outside the family. I told you because I knew you would understand. We neither of us perform to strangers.”

A smile passed between them, and breath caught in Darcy’s chest. This was what he had imagined the day before, in the library. Elizabeth’s smile, as she would raise her eyes and cast him a look of shared understanding and companionship.

But not love. There was not a hint of tender feelings in her eyes. He might have foolishly mistaken archness for interest in the past. He might have even mistaken her current friendliness for something more, had he not known better.

Now he did know better. Earlier that morning, he had been privileged to see a true look of devotion brightening her eyes – and could not fail to acknowledge that nothing of the sort had ever rested upon him, throughout the course of their acquaintance. He could no longer flatter himself that he had gained her interest and regard, nor could he persist in his misguided notion that Elizabeth, like any other woman of his acquaintance, would welcome his addresses, should he choose to pay them .

It would serve him, then, to accept three plain truths. Firstly, Elizabeth was unlike any other woman of his acquaintance. Secondly, she had not displayed any real interest in him. And thirdly, all he had was her gratitude – that, and a newly-established and fragile sort of friendliness.

He should be content to leave it at that. A Pemberley alliance could not be forged at Longbourn, his well-trained reason told him as much. But reason felt cold and uninviting, and her eyes were warm and full of a joie de vivre such as he had never beheld.

“Miss Bennet, I—”

To the end of his days, Darcy would never know what he was about to say, that warm autumn morning in Hertfordshire. He did not get the chance to find out. Mrs Hill appeared in the doorway and announced:

“A Mr Collins to see your father, Miss Elizabeth. Will you see him now or shall I ask him to call another time?”

Elizabeth turned to the housekeeper and a knowing look passed between them. The name was as familiar as could be, given the number of occasions Mrs Bennet had uttered it, invariably adorned with a collection of epithets of which ‘odious’ was of the mildest order.

‘What is he doing here? He cannot be aware of Papa’s condition, surely,’ she mused, her thoughts ajumble, as she tried to settle on a course of action.

At length, she decided it would be best to see him now, rather than in her mother’s presence. As for her dear Papa, even if the man was proven to be the best company possible, it could not do him a jot of good at present to be reminded of the threat of the entail.

With a cursory apology towards Mr Darcy, who had once more retreated to one of the windows, Elizabeth asked Mrs Hill to show the visitor in.

The gentleman whose name had always put Mrs Bennet in mind of hedgerows was admitted into the parlour. He was heavy-looking, his air was grave and stately, and his manners very formal. As soon as he walked in, he bowed deeply and thus began:

“I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Bennet. I must admit, I am somewhat perturbed by the irregularity of intruding upon your notice without a formal introduction. Still, I flatter myself that you will kindly overlook it, in view of our family connection. Moreover, I firmly believe that the rules of ceremony which regulate the laity must not constrain the clergy in a similar manner, for I consider the clerical office as equal in dignity with the highest rank in the kingdom – provided that a proper humility of behaviour is maintained. In short, in my position as a rector and as your father’s cousin, pray allow me, Miss Bennet, to recommend myself as your faithful servant, Rev. William Collins.”

Drawn by the curious spectacle, Darcy turned towards the room, a brow arched in surprise and disdain. What was the pompous fool talking about? He could not see the newcomer well, just his obsequiously bowed back and part of his face, but it was no apparent loss. His manner of address sufficed.

At the end of his speech, Rev. Collins bowed again and advanced towards Elizabeth with a simpering smile.

“You must be Mr Bennet’s eldest daughter.”

“His second eldest, Sir. My eldest sister is currently taking a turn in the garden in the company of one our neighbours.”

“I should be delighted to make her acquaintance, and that of all your sisters. I heard by common report that Mr Bennet’s daughters are delightful and amiable, and given your kind reception of me, Cousin, pray allow me to say that fame falls short of the truth.”

Elizabeth nodded her half-hearted acknowledgement of the awkward compliment, and he continued:

“Pray forgive me, but I had hoped to meet with your esteemed mother and father. I have allowed myself the pleasure of writing to your father some time ago, and he kindly responded favourably to my overtures. In my position as a clergyman, particularly one so fortunate as to be distinguished by the noble patronage of one of the most illustrious persons in the land, I felt it my duty to promote and establish the blessings of peace in all families within the reach of my influence—”

Elizabeth attempted to stem the flow of his discourse, vexed at the thought of their entire family history being aired in such a mortifying fashion in Mr Darcy’s presence, but Mr Collins held up a hand to prevent her.

“Pray allow me to conclude by saying, as I had the pleasure of explaining in my letter to your father, that the disagreement subsisting between him and my late honoured sire had always given me much uneasiness, and ever since I had the misfortune to lose him, I have frequently wished to heal the breach…”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to interrupt again, but his monologue would not be stopped. It gave the distinct impression that he was reciting from a well-learned script, and could not allow any interruptions, for fear he would lose his place and forget what he was about to say. She sighed and resigned herself to it.

“…but for some time I was held back by my own doubts, lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be on good terms with anyone with whom it had always pleased him to be at variance. However, given my position, my illustrious patronage, our family connection— In short, I flatter myself that my present overtures of goodwill are highly commendable, and that the circumstance of my being next in the entail of Longbourn will be kindly overlooked by your family, and will not lead your father to reject the offer of an olive branch.”

“Sir, pray allow me to—”

“I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the means of injuring you and your amiable sisters, and beg leave to apologise for it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make you every possible amends. But of this, thereafter. I proposed myself the satisfaction of waiting on your family today, Wednesday, October 16th, and of trespassing on your hospitality till Saturday week, and as your father kindly agreed to the scheme, well… here I am. I should be delighted to make the acquaintance of all your esteemed family as soon as may be. Your father was expecting me, but I presume he was called away on some urgent business…?”

“Pray allow me to apologise on my father’s behalf, Mr Collins,” Elizabeth said as soon as he allowed it, “but he is unable to receive you at present.”

“Oh,” Mr Collins said, confused and visibly offended. “Was he obliged to travel to town?”

“Nay, Sir,” Elizabeth sighed, unable to avoid answering so direct a question. “I am afraid he was taken ill yesterday.”

From his position at the other end of the room, Darcy could only wonder if the newcomer was indeed so devoid of all common decency as to show that the intelligence was not entirely unwelcome .

Elizabeth, who had a full command of his countenance, had no need to wonder, and the fleeting glimmer of interest, soon replaced by an air of pious concern, was not likely to endear Mr Collins to her. Elizabeth’s first impulse was to advise the reverend that under the circumstances his visit should be deferred until another time, but it occurred to her that it would not be in her family’s best interest to offend him. With great forbearance, she briefly acknowledged his elaborate and obviously insincere wishes for a speedy recovery and invited him to take some refreshment.

This was accepted with alacrity, and the clergyman advanced to take the seat Mr Darcy had previously occupied. But just as he attempted to lower himself onto the sofa, he looked up and finally noticed the tall gentleman standing by the window. Mr Collins remained immovable with surprise for a few moments in this ungainly posture, then straightened his back, only to bow again. Well aware that Darcy would not thank her for the introduction, Elizabeth knew not how she could avoid it. With obvious displeasure, she said:

“Mr Darcy, pray allow me to introduce my cousin, Rev. Collins. Mr Collins, this is—”

“Mr Darcy?” the clergyman exclaimed and advanced towards him. “Mr Darcy of Pemberley?”

“Indeed. I do not remember the pleasure, Sir,” Darcy replied with the sort of withering civility that had stopped the effusions of better men.

It had no effect on Mr Collins.

“But this is a most wonderful and unexpected honour,” he cried and bowed solemnly. “Who would have thought of my meeting with the nephew of my esteemed patroness in this part of the country! I am most thankful that the discovery was made, and I can only bemoan my oversight in not being aware of your presence earlier, Sir. I trust you will be so kind as to overlook it, and allow me to inform you that your most excellent aunt and her esteemed daughter, the fair Miss de Bourgh, were in the very best of health two days ago, when I had the honour to assist in forming a quadrille table at Rosings.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Darcy replied in a clipped tone.

Yet Mr Collins was not discouraged from speaking again, in long, pompous phrases, about Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s bounty and beneficence; the magnificence of Rosings Park in the autumn, and indeed in any season, particularly in the summer, as Lady Catherine herself had observed to him once; about Lady Catherine’s affability and condescension, and Miss de Bourgh’s superior beauty, which would adorn the most elevated rank; and finally about Darcy’s kindly bestowed solicitude in visiting the family of his afflicted cousin.

Elizabeth could not fail to notice Darcy’s contempt increasing in direct proportion to the length of this second speech, and was vexed beyond measure to see Mr Collins exposing himself to ridicule in such a fashion, and before such a man. When the reverend finally concluded, Darcy gave the scantest of bows, then approached Elizabeth.

“I believe I must take my leave now,” he said formally, his voice expressionless and cold.

Elizabeth glanced up for long enough to recognise the forbidding countenance from the Meryton assembly. She looked away with a stab of disappointment she could not fully justify. Their latest conversations had led her to expect better of him but, in truth, she could not fault him; not on this occasion.

“Of course,” she said flatly and rose to see him out.

Mr Collins came to her side and bowed again, very deeply.

“Despite our relatively short acquaintance, I am persuaded that my young cousin will allow me to speak for her, and indeed on behalf of the entire family, and say that the honour of your visit was deeply felt, Sir.”

Darcy’s brow shot up at the man’s limitless presumption. A mirror of her own indignation, Elizabeth’s eyes flared dangerously and, despite her earlier intention to show as much forbearance as possible, she was about to let Mr Collins know she had been able to speak for herself these twenty years together, when Jane and Mr Bingley joined them, and shortly afterwards, so did Mary. Introductions were necessarily performed and civilities followed, Mr Collins’ more convoluted than the rest, but eventually Darcy had his wish to ride away from Longbourn and the insufferable man.

He pulled the reins tighter without meaning to, unsettling his horse. How could Elizabeth and, for that matter, Miss Bennet, have come from the midst of such a family? The connection was impossible, utterly impossible! The thought of introducing any of them, even Mr Bennet, to his family and friends brought a shudder of disgust. Why was it that the only woman he found that he could love had to have such deuced unsuitable relations? His aunt’s parson, no less, and a pompous, obsequious fool at that !

Darcy stared grimly ahead. Perhaps he ought to be grateful to the awful man for the timing of his arrival, no matter how vexing he had found it at the time. Had he been about to propose? He did not know – and that was the absolute truth. He did not know. A long sigh escaped him.

“Are you well?” Bingley asked. “You seem rather out of sorts.”

He needed to think. He desperately needed to think.

“I wonder why that fellow came. It sounds rather harsh on such a short acquaintance, but I cannot say I like him,” Bingley spoke again, half to himself.

Darcy made no reply, although he concurred with the sentiment, and with better reasons. The conversation, or rather monologue, he had witnessed gave him much to think about. The clergyman had rambled far and wide, but Darcy could not miss the salient points: that Collins stood to inherit Longbourn in the absence of heirs male, and that he had come to pacify a family feud and make his young cousins ‘every possible amends.’

The short time spent in the man’s company was enough to show Darcy that the parson was too self-absorbed to envisage a legacy or any other generous gesture of the kind, and moreover Longbourn was a small estate, and its income unlikely to allow it.

It was but a step to the next conclusion, and Darcy felt a wave of nausea at the thought. Collins’ idea of amends presumably was to marry one of them, and remind her to the end of her days of her good fortune. The thought was more than he could bear.

It was one thing to doubt the wisdom of offering for Elizabeth – and quite another to think of her as Mrs Collins, tied forever to that intolerable man, her spirit broken by his weak-minded condescension and mortifying stupidity. The thought that she might see fit to sacrifice her chances of happiness for the sake of her family, particularly in view of her father’s illness, brought such an acute anxiety in Darcy as to make him turn his mount about so abruptly that he was almost thrown off.

What on earth was he thinking to leave her as he did, and leave that creature in the Bennet household, at a time like this ?

“We must return, Bingley,” he cast over his shoulder, sending the younger man in utter confusion.

“Whatever is the matter? Have you forgotten something?”

Darcy made no answer. This was not the time to share the day’s revelations with Bingley, and in point of fact he doubted the wisdom of ever disclosing them to his friend at all. Bingley’s infatuation with Miss Bennet was another cause for concern, both for the unsuitability of the connection and for the young lady’s obvious placidity. There was no indication that she had any feelings for his friend, but Darcy was convinced she would accept him in order to raise her family’s fortunes. Which was understandable, in view of the entail. Still, he would not see the Bennets restored at the cost of Bingley’s felicity. His friend deserved better than a marriage of convenience.

“You can be quite infuriating sometimes, you know,” the other good-naturedly remarked. “Especially when you ignore a pointed question.”

Darcy gave a conscious chuckle.

“I beg your pardon. I was distracted, but that is no excuse, particularly as I have a favour to ask.”

“Anything, as you well know.”

“I was about to offer your carriage to that fellow, Collins, if you have no objections. He dismissed the hack chaise that brought him to Longbourn, and I wanted to ensure he had the means to remove himself to the Red Lion in Meryton. The Bennets can hardly be expected to accommodate a houseguest at a time like this.”

“Do you know, I was just thinking about that myself. This is precisely why I invited Dr Halstone to come and stay at Netherfield. In fact, when you provided me with such an entertaining display of fine horsemanship, I was just about to ask if you thought I should invite Mr Collins too.”