| The Other Bingley, Part VII |
| A pleasant evening was spent with the Gardiners in London, including the delights of a play and a surprise for Elizabeth: an invitation to accompany her uncle and aunt in a tour of pleasure which they proposed taking in the summer, after Jane's wedding. "We have not quite determined how far it shall carry us," said Mrs. Gardiner, "but perhaps to the Lakes." No scheme could have been more agreeable to Elizabeth, happy for anything that would give her a respite from a Longbourn without Jane, and her acceptance of the invitation was most ready and grateful. Not giving thought to the possibility that she may herself be spoken for by that time, Elizabeth left London the next morning to continue on to Kent with this happy information. When they left the high-road for the lane to Hunsford, every eye was in search of the Parsonage, and every turning expected to bring it in view. The palings of Rosings Park was their boundary on one side. Elizabeth smiled at the recollection of all that she had heard of its inhabitants. At length the Parsonage was discernable. The garden sloping to the road, the house standing in it, the green pales and the laurel hedge, everything declared that they were arriving. Mr. Collins and Charlotte appeared at the door, and the carriage stopped at a small gate, which led by a short gravel walk to the house, amidst the nods and smiles of the whole party. In a moment they were all out of the chaise, rejoicing at the sight of each other. Mrs. Collins welcomed her friend with the liveliest pleasure, and Elizabeth was more and more satisfied with coming, when she found herself so affectionately received. She saw instantly that her cousin's manners were not altered by his marriage; his formal civility was just what it had been, and he detained her some minutes at the gate to hear and satisfy his enquiries after all her family. They were then, with no other delay than his pointing out the neatness of the entrance, taken into the house; and as soon as they were in the parlour, he welcomed them a second time with ostentatious formality to his humble abode, and punctually repeated all his wife's offers of refreshment. Elizabeth could only roll her eyes at Mr. Collins' attempts to make her realize her error in refusing him. Charlotte seemed not to notice his absurdities, but then, Elizabeth figured, to keep from going mad she had probably learned to simply ignore them. If Elizabeth was surprised that Charlotte could maintain a cheerful air after so many months with her ridiculous husband, she was not so surprised at Charlotte's confession that she encouraged Mr. Collins in all activities that kept him from her company. "So you see, often an entire day goes by where we have spent no more than a few minutes in each other's company. I find that I can bear the solitude quite cheerfully. I find myself� quite content with my situation, Lizzy." Elizabeth merely smiled knowingly, unable to blame her friend for seeking this small solace in the life she had chosen. It was not long before Elizabeth learned that they would soon have the privilege of meeting the infamous Lady Catherine de Bourgh herself, who was still in the country awaiting the annual Easter visit of her nephews, Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Elizabeth smiled to herself and blushed at the mention of Darcy, hoping no one would notice; Charlotte did, but misunderstood the grin as Elizabeth's anticipation of the follies sure to come. "Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you will have the honor of seeing Lady Catherine de Bourgh on the ensuing Sunday at church, and I need not say you will be delighted with her. She is all affability and condescension, and I doubt not but you will be honored with some portion of her notice when service is over. I have scarcely any hesitation in saying that she will include you and my sister Maria in every invitation with which she honors us during your stay here. Her behaviour to my dear Charlotte is charming. We dine at Rosings twice every week, and are never allowed to walk home. Her ladyship's carriage is regularly ordered for us. I should say, one of her ladyship's carriages, for she has several." "Lady Catherine is a very respectable, sensible woman indeed," added Charlotte, "and a most attentive neighbor." Elizabeth was sure she could discern a hint of irony in Charlotte's voice. "Very true, my dear, that is exactly what I say. She is the sort of woman whom one cannot regard with too much deference." No one expected the visitors to have the honor of meeting Lady Catherine before Sunday at church. Fortune, however, was apparently favoring them more than expected; the next day Miss Anne de Bourgh drove by the parsonage with a personal invitation to dine at Rosings on the morrow; Maria nearly swooned. Elizabeth, though looking forward to the follies she would certainly witness, was a bit apprehensive about meeting Lady Catherine. She could not think of that lady without thinking again of her nephew, and thinking of her nephew made Elizabeth think of his intentions, and his impending arrival. It also made her think of his kiss, and it appalled her to realize how much she wished for another. Now, rather than desiring his distance, she began to anticipate his coming with happiness. Dinner at Rosings was all Elizabeth expected and more. Lady Catherine, supercilious, haughty, condescending, and just plain snobbish, was just what she had supposed; Anne de Bourgh was a pale, sickly creature without much to say, and Elizabeth could not be jealous of her despite the knowledge that theoretically they were rivals for Darcy. He had made it perfectly clear where his affections lay, and if she were more like Caroline Bingley, she would admit that Anne was certainly no competition. Rather than feeling arrogant about her superiority, however, she took a certain comfort from it, that the man who had chosen her was willing and able to look beyond the financial advantages and disadvantages of marriage to Anne versus Elizabeth to find a companion he could respect, admire, and love. She knew this was rare, particularly with those of his class, and her feelings towards him warmed further once she came to this realization. She would not call it love, but she was no longer closed off to the notion that love for him may be in her future. For a week and a half, Elizabeth escaped Mr. Collins' absurdities by wandering the beautiful grounds around Rosings. Though still cold, spring was definitely in the air, and Elizabeth enjoyed spending times of solitary reflection in the crisp air and cool sunshine. She often reread Darcy's letter, which she had brought with her almost unconsciously. Her anticipation grew daily, coming to a height when, during tea at Rosings, Lady Catherine revealed that her beloved nephews would be arriving by noon the next day. She had no hope of seeing Darcy the day he came, but surely he would call on her the day after, and in that meeting she would try to make him understand the material change that her sentiments had undergone. * * * * * * "So," Colonel Fitzwilliam began as he and Darcy boarded the carriage that would take them to Rosings, "you wanted to move our visit forward to spend more time with this Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who caused your distraction whilst in Hertfordshire, is currently in Kent visiting her cousins, and yet is only a friend. Why do I find this highly implausible?" "She is only a friend. I wish to spend more time with her because she happens to be an excellent conversationalist, sharp wit, and delightful musician," Darcy replied coolly. "Mm hmm� but she is unfortunately plain to the point of deformity?" Fitzwilliam pressed. "If you must know, she is one of most handsome women of my acquaintance. Her eyes are particularly fine," his cousin countered, affronted. "So she is beautiful, intelligent, accomplished� now I understand why you are just friends," Fitzwilliam mocked sarcastically. "Well, if you do not want her, I'll have her for myself, provided she is as you claim. I'm beginning to think that no such woman exists, but if she does, I certainly have more right to her than you, for I am over 2 years older." Darcy rolled his eyes. "I'm afraid she does not possess the main attribute you most require: a substantial dowry. That is, unless you think 50 pounds per annum would sufficiently support your needs." Fitzwilliam punched his chest as if he had been struck. "You cut me to the quick, Darcy. I am appalled that you think me so mercenary." "But you are more appalled by the small sum Elizabeth would provide," Darcy correctly pointed out. Fitzwilliam chose not to dwell on this, but raised his eyebrow for another reason. "Oh, she is Elizabeth now? You must be great friends indeed." Darcy only glared at his cousin and let the matter drop. His interest would become evident soon enough; there was no need to furnish his cousin with further ammunition for teasing any earlier. * * * * * * Darcy's arrival was soon known at the Parsonage, for Mr. Collins was walking the whole morning within view of the lodges opening into Hunsford Lane, in order to have the earliest assurance of it; and after making his bow as the carriage turned into the park, hurried home with the great intelligence. To the great surprise of all the party, when Mr. Collins returned, the gentlemen were close behind him. Charlotte had seen them, from her husband's room, crossing the road, and immediately running into the other, told the girls what an honor they might expect, adding, "I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would never have come so soon to wait upon me." Elizabeth demurely shook her head in disagreement, but she suspected that Charlotte spoke the truth. Such a striking civility as Mr. Darcy's, in coming to them on the very day of his arrival at Rosings- for he had reached it only to a late breakfast- had to be a strong sign of his continued interest in her. Rather than feeling the discomfort that had marked her earlier observations of his attentions to her, this time she felt only contentment. The arrival of the gentlemen was announced by the door-bell, and shortly afterwards they entered the room. Almost from the instant he walked in, Darcy's eyes were riveted to Elizabeth. When she smiled warmly at him, his breath was stolen away. He smiled back, not bothering to say or do anything, such as actually enter the room or allow Mr. Collins or Colonel Fitzwilliam to enter it either. Discreet coughs were not enough to catch his attention, so at last the colonel gave him a light shove to get him through the door. Embarrassed, Darcy cleared his throat and straightened his jacket, then headed directly towards Elizabeth with his hand outstretched. "Miss Bennet," he began, kissing her fingers, "It seems too long since last I saw you. How do you like Kent?" "Very much, I thank you Mr. Darcy. I am glad to see you." A dumb grin took hold of his face and he just stared at her. "Darcy, will you not do me the honor of introducing me to your friend?" Fitzwilliam reminded him from behind him. "Oh, of course. Miss Bennet, this is my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, second son of the earl of ___. Fitzwilliam, this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, of Hertfordshire." Fitzwilliam bowed gallantly and immediately entered into conversation directly with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Darcy's expression grew darker the longer he monopolized Elizabeth's attention. Oh, this will be fun, he thought to himself, preparing to do a bit of mischief at Darcy's expense. It was obvious from Elizabeth's reaction to Darcy's entrance that she was far from indifferent to him, and so would not be swayed by a bit of harmless flirting on the colonel's part; Darcy, on the other hand, would be driven insane, and there was nothing so amusing, in Fitzwilliam's opinion, as a vexed Darcy. "Miss Bennet, I have heard much about your musical talents. I do hope you will provide us with some music when we are at Rosings together. Darcy has gone on and on about what a pleasure it is to see you perform." Darcy shot his cousin a dark look. "Has he indeed? Well, I must ask you not to set your expectations so high; I play only a little, and very ill indeed. Mr. Darcy exaggerates, I'm sure." Darcy took the chance to jump in. "Miss Bennet, you are too modest. You know my opinion of you quite well." His meaningful glance made her blush and drop her eyes. Excellent, thought Fitzwilliam. This will be easier than I ever expected. Soon after this exchange, the gentlemen took their leave, but not before requesting everyone's presence at Rosings for tea the next afternoon. Lady Catherine had not actually issued any invitation, but Darcy could not resist guaranteeing himself Elizabeth's company. Upon his return to Rosings, he simply made it seem as though it had been his aunt's idea, and she was satisfied. The invitation was accepted of course, and at a proper hour they joined the party in Lady Catherine's drawing room. Her ladyship received them civilly, but it was plain that their company was by no means so acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and she was, in fact, almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person in the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them; anything was a welcome relief to him at Rosings, and the opportunity to torment Darcy by flirting with Elizabeth just added appeal to the already pleasant pastime of speaking with her. He now seated himself by her, and talked so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of traveling and staying at home, of new books and music, that Elizabeth had never been half so well entertained in that room before; and they conversed with so much spirit and flow, as to draw the attention of Mr. Darcy almost immediately. He endeavoured to join their conversation whenever possible, but Fitzwilliam was intent on dominating. Elizabeth watched their struggle with some amusement, but when she noticed Darcy becoming more withdrawn, she turned fully in his direction. "Mr. Darcy, I hope you left Mrs. Westling well." He smiled gratefully at her effort to speak with him. "She was very well, thank you, and sends her regards to you. I believe she has been busy helping your sister suggest improvements to Netherfield." "I look forward to seeing her again. Will she and her family remain at Netherfield until the wedding?" "Yes, and then go into town for a month before returning to the north with me. We will be spending July at Pemberley; Bingley said he and your sister may join us after their tour of the continent." "I shall be going away in July myself. My aunt and uncle Gardiner are taking me on a tour of the Lake country with them." Darcy's face fell; he was trying to find a subtle way to suggest that she join her sister in Derbyshire, but this information dashed his hopes. "The Lake country is beautiful indeed," was all he could find to say. No more conversation could then be had; Lady Catherine noticed Elizabeth's monopoly over her nephews and put a stop to it by inquiring into their discussion. "What is that you are saying, Darcy? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is." Darcy rolled his eyes. "We are speaking of travel, madam," said he, when no longer able to avoid a reply. "Of travel! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation, if you are speaking of travel. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of discovering new places than myself, or a better natural taste for choosing the most beautiful destinations. If her health had allowed her the time to travel, Anne should have seen all the beauties of England. Alas, we have been unable to stray far from Rosings, or Bath for the waters, except to visit Pemberley, of course." Lady Catherine looked slyly at Darcy, then Anne, at this comment; he merely looked away, while she just looked bored. "Miss Bennet, shall we have some music?" Fitzwilliam asked, growing bored with his aunt already. She sat down directly to the instrument and he drew a chair near her, much to Darcy's dismay. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then talked, to her other nephew till the latter walked away from her, and moving with his usual deliberation towards the piano forte, stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer's countenance. Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first convenient pause, turned to him with an arch smile, and said, "You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? But I will not be alarmed. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me." Darcy shook his head and chuckled. "You take great delight in teasing me Miss Bennet. But it is I who will not be intimidated by you. You shall not provoke me into teasing you back." "That is unfortunate; I do so enjoy crossing swords with you." Shocked at herself for making such a provocative statement, Elizabeth turned her eyes back to her music, feeling the crimson once more coming into her cheeks. What is wrong with me, that I cannot be in this man's presence for a minute without blushing? Darcy raised his eyebrows but he was not displeased. "I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours. I shall then say, in retaliation, that you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know, that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not your own." Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself, and said to Colonel Fitzwilliam, "Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so well able to expose my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire." "You misunderstand me madam. I would not dare present you in anything but a favorable light; it would be near blasphemous to do so." Fitzwilliam smirked at such blatant flattery and flirting; Elizabeth's face grew redder; Darcy leaned on the piano with a smug grin. "Well? Have you no rebuttal?" "Why should I try to deny such an assertion? No lady will ever reject such pretty words," Elizabeth replied calmly, finishing the piece of music. "You will never play really well, Miss Bennet, unless you practice more," Lady Catherine interrupted. "And though Mrs. Collins has no instrument, you are very welcome to come to Rosings every day, and play on the piano forte in Mrs. Jenkinson's room. She would be in nobody's way, you know, in that part of the house." Darcy looked a little ashamed of his aunt's ill breeding, and made no answer; not that it was required, for Lady Catherine seldom required another participant in conversation. The rest of the party allowed her to dominate until it was time for Mr. and Mrs. Collins and their guests to depart. For the inhabitants of Hunsford parsonage, the remaining week and a half until Easter was spent in constant company of at least one member of the Rosings party, particularly Darcy and Fitzwilliam. They called at various times of the morning, sometimes only Darcy, sometimes both together, and now and then accompanied by their aunt. Strangely enough, Fitzwilliam never called on his own. When she noticed Darcy with his hair still wet, frantically arranging his collar and cravat as they approached the parsonage, Elizabeth came to the conclusion that Darcy always insisted on accompanying him, sometimes even if he was not yet presentable. Judging from the cold glares he bestowed upon his cousin, she figured that jealousy was a likely motivation for these spontaneous visits, though she could not think why; she had endeavoured, with every action, to make her affection for him known, and he seemed to have understood her message by bestowing upon her those little attentions which imply more than just friendship. The morning before Easter, Elizabeth was meditating on Darcy's strange behavior during her morning walk when she was interrupted by a, "Miss Bennet!" Elizabeth spun around to the voice that called out to her. "Colonel Fitzwilliam!" The colonel tipped his hat in greeting. He was alone, having finally escaped Darcy when he promised not to call at the parsonage without him. "I did not know before that you ever walked this way." "I have been making the tour of the Park," he replied and offered his arm, "as I generally do every year, and intend to close it with a call at the Parsonage. Are you going much farther?" "No, I should have turned in a moment." And accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards the Parsonage together. A few minutes of companionable silence passed before Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke again. "I understand that you will be leaving us in a week. I hope you know that you will be terribly missed." Elizabeth blushed slightly, embarrassed by Fitzwilliam's teasing her about his cousin. "But fortunately we depart only two or three days after you, and I am certain that a happy reunion will then be in store." "I'm quite sure I don't know what you mean," she replied uncomfortably. "I think you do� but I shall not press you further. I will only say that I look forward to meeting you again on more intimate- or perhaps I should say, familial- terms." Elizabeth looked up at him, wide-eyed over his presumption; he only winked in return. It was at this precise moment that Mr. Darcy, having obviously exerted himself to set out after his cousin quickly, encountered them, and the sight of Elizabeth blushing whilst his cousin winked at her did not improve Darcy's already somewhat irritable attitude towards him. "Ah, Darcy!" the colonel exclaimed. "We were just speaking of you." Elizabeth's blush deepened even further; Darcy scowled. "I seriously doubt that," he muttered through clenched teeth. Fitzwilliam desperately held in his laughter. "I promise you it is the truth. Just ask Miss Bennet." Darcy saw Elizabeth's mortification and could barely restrain his anger. "That will do Fitzwilliam," he stated imperiously. "Don't you have a tour of the park to finish? I will escort Miss Bennet to the Parsonage. She is obviously unwell." Elizabeth smiled up at him gratefully. "I do have a slight headache. Perhaps I have walked too far today." Darcy offered his arm, and she disengaged herself from the colonel to take it. "Colonel Fitzwilliam," she said with a curtsy. Fitzwilliam bowed, feeling somewhat guilty to have caused her discomfort. "Forgive me Miss Bennet, it was not my intention to distress you. I hope we are still friends." Elizabeth shook his proffered hand with a forgiving grin, and he bid them adieu. Darcy scowled after him and protectively shepherded Elizabeth in the direction of the parsonage. Eager to be alone with him and away from Mr. Collins, Elizabeth decided to change their path. "Mr. Darcy, I am quite alright. It is such a beautiful day, why do we not walk a while longer?" Darcy acquiesced and led her to a pretty little clearing at the edge of the grove. Elizabeth turned her face to the sun and closed her eyes, smiling. Darcy took in the lovely sight, understanding his cousin's affection for her, but unable to bear the thought of her being with anyone else. Something had to be done. "Miss Bennet, I apologize if my cousin has been paying you undue attentions. He is quite the flirt, and seems to have no care for your sensibilities." Elizabeth rolled her eyes; where did he get these ridiculous notions? She had a feeling his observations were more tainted by jealousy than he would ever admit. "I feel that the best way to put a stop to this is to formalize what has been left implicit for far too long. Elizabeth, will you marry me?" Elizabeth resisted the urge to snort, and instead just eyed him with a look he knew only too well meant trouble. "Do you mean to tell me that you are proposing to stop your cousin's flirtation?" she asked with a touch of indignation. Had she been less familiar with his mind and character, she would have been far more affronted. As it was, she decided only to teach him a lesson in how to properly propose to a lady. "No, of course not!" he spluttered, realizing the blunder of his words. "You know that I have been wanting to make you an offer for quite some time!" "But you have now been prompted, not by your assurance of my feelings for you or by your uncontainable passion for me, but rather, by jealousy over what you perceive as your cousin's overly familiar manner with me," she said accusingly, crossing her arms in a combative stance. Darcy looked at her with desperation. "No, that isn't it at all. That is, I cannot deny that being able to claim you was an added inducement, but it was hardly the most compelling." Her eyes blazed in challenge. "Claim me?! Is that what you want? To claim me?" Now Darcy looked utterly frightened. "Metaphorically of course," he squeaked. "I would never presume to treat you like property; you know I love you too dearly for that." Elizabeth softened a bit at this admission, and Darcy took full advantage of it. "I simply meant that to keep myself from running my cousin through the next time he looks at you, I have to know that your heart belongs only to me." She now found herself entirely melted. "You are quite adept at removing yourself from a precarious situation Mr. Darcy," she teased. "Consider yourself forgiven for your hideous blunder. However," she continued pointing her finger sharply at him, "I must warn you to take greater care in the future. I may not always be so forgiving." In reply, Darcy did something that was quite unexpected, even to himself: he stared at her finger for a short while, then, suddenly, claimed it between his teeth. "Did no one ever tell you that it is rude to point, Miss Bennet?" he said with his teeth still lightly clenched around her finger. Elizabeth, who was at first shocked and not a little aroused, began to laugh. "I'm sure I was told something of the sort, but never accompanied by such a convincing deterrent!" Darcy took her finger out of his mouth and placed a tiny kiss upon it, but did not release her hand. His eyes quickly lost their playful glint in favor of a look of hunger and desire that abruptly left Elizabeth breathless. They stared at each other, Darcy coming closer and closer until he was a mere inch or two from her face. Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried unsuccessfully to contain the sigh that was at her lips; this only further enticed him. Nothing could have kept them from crushing together with explosive passion. "Elizabeth," he breathed against her mouth. Elizabeth found herself pulling him closer, holding to him as if her life depended on it. She could not explain this sudden need for him, or the fire that raged in her soul; she just knew that she wanted him, wanted to feel his body pressed against hers, wanted him to kiss her and touch her in more ways than she could begin to imagine. Soon, the force of her desire began to frighten her, and when Darcy began moving his hands from the relatively respectable position on her back to the decidedly less respectable position just under her breasts, she pulled away violently with embarrassment. "Mr. Darcy, please� if anyone should see us�" Darcy stepped closer, circling her as if she were his prey, his hand lightly passing over her waist. "I am tempted to wish for it, despite the fact that your father could shoot me right now; if we were caught, we may be forced to marry immediately, and there is nothing I would like better," he whispered against her ear. Elizabeth's eyelids fluttered with the feeling of his warm breath on her skin. "Of course," he continued, again standing in front of her and caressing her neck, "I also do not wish it, for I would be loathe to be interrupted in our�" he paused, moving closer, speaking practically against her lips, "private council." Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck, claiming his mouth with her own. His hands began to wander once more, and this time Elizabeth had no intention of preventing them. "I do not think we shall be interrupted here," she gasped as he shifted his attention to her throat. "I have spent much solitary time here, and no one has ever come upon me." Darcy stored this information for later use, in addition to taking advantage of it immediately. "It is unwise to tell me this if you do not wish to be dragged here daily for the rest of your stay," he teased. "Perhaps that is exactly what I wish," she whispered seductively before pulling his face to hers again. He moaned his approval of her forwardness. "God, how I love you� how I want you!" It seemed contradictory, then, that he pulled away from her at that moment. "I know that I behaved rather stupidly just now. Could we put that down to a momentary lapse of sense? Fleeting madness because of my passionate regard for you? Envy of my cousin's superior manners?" "Is that what you call it?" she asked, an eyebrow raised. He kissed her hand, his face showing his contrition. "Please my love� be my wife." Elizabeth could no longer keep from smiling. "I suppose since you asked so nicely� yes, I shall." Next section... |