Page 56 of A Rational Man (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

T he next morning saw Elizabeth quite pale, causing Mary a good deal of consternation. “Lizzy! Are you unwell?”

“I think not; I just slept rather ill.” Indeed, that was quite the understatement. Elizabeth believed she had gotten little more than an hour’s rest from her turbulent thoughts.

“Perhaps you should go back to bed once you have broken your fast.”

“I shall, Mary; I thank you for your concern.”

Elizabeth managed a cup of tea and a single slice of toast before she felt that she must return to her room.

But sleep still eluded her, as her thoughts whirled about, reliving every moment of the previous night.

What on earth had Mr. Darcy intended, paying her such attentions?

Had he not told her, as plainly as could be, that she had no chance with him?

Why, now, did he seek her favour so plainly?

She was as resolved now as she had been the night before; she would continue to treat him as a casual acquaintance and no more. But oh! It was so very difficult! Those dark eyes, by turns serious, amused, thoughtful! His manner, his bearing, the tone of his voice, all still so very dear to her!

***

At Rosings’ breakfast table, Mr. Darcy was forced to bear a good deal of commentary regarding his conduct the previous night.

Lady Catherine started in at breakfast. “I am frankly astonished at you, Darcy. Your behaviour last night! Whatever can you mean, making up to that Miss Bennet in such a way?”

The Colonel stepped in on his behalf, saying that Mr. Darcy had been happy to greet a young lady whom he regarded as a dear friend.

“She seemed rather less happy to see you than you were to see her,” was his aunt’s tart observation.

Again, the Colonel stepped in, saying, “Young ladies have their moods, as we know, Aunt.”

Mr. Darcy finished his breakfast as soon as he could and made his escape. He encountered Anne on his way up to his room, and it was then her turn to speak. “I believe that our conversation as to the rationality of a love match was well-timed, Fitzwilliam.” She was smiling as she spoke.

“It was; I thank you, Anne, for explaining it to me so very well.”

“So it is Miss Bennet?”

“It is; I am astonished to find her here, but wish to take advantage of my opportunity.”

“As well you should. I will do everything in my power to aid you, cousin, though I know not what I might do.”

“Might you not accompany me to the parsonage? I would like to call on Miss Bennet; your presence would make it less remarkable.”

“I am happy to do so. I cannot walk that far, though, cousin.”

“Can we not take your little phaeton? I promise not to crowd you in it! May we leave soon?”

“It is too early for a call, Fitzwilliam.”

“I would like to avoid having Richard accompany us.”

“Did I hear my name?” The Colonel was now striding up the stairs.

“Richard,” Mr. Darcy growled.

“I am not wanted, evidently,” the Colonel said, genially.

“When you are present, she is able to avoid me,” Mr. Darcy retorted. “I need some time with her, time when you are not there to provide her with a ready distraction.”

“She is clever; if she wishes to avoid you, then she will do so.”

“Perhaps. But I would be very much obliged if you would not join us.”

The Colonel sighed theatrically. “Very well, Darcy; I will be occupied elsewhere.”

***

When they had waited until Anne felt comfortable paying a call at the parsonage, Mr. Darcy and Anne de Bourgh climbed into Anne’s little phaeton. Mrs. Jenkinson had been persuaded to stay at Rosings Park, though she had required a good deal more persuasion than had the Colonel.

Finally, Anne said, in some exasperation, “If I am not safe with my cousin, when might I ever be so?” Mrs. Jenkinson finally relented.

“It is wearying to have my steps constantly dogged,” Anne confessed. “If you marry Miss Bennet, you truly must host me for a Season.”

“I should be delighted, and I am certain Miss Bennet would as well.”

“You have a good deal of work ahead of you, if you hope to persuade her to marry you.”

“I cannot understand it. She was so warm, so welcoming to me when I was in Meryton.”

“Did you give her any indication that you might marry her?”

“On the contrary; I was very clear that I was to marry a young lady of wealth and breeding.”

Anne turned and stared at Mr. Darcy. “Truly?”

“Of course; I had no wish to deceive her.”

“And has she any idea that your feelings have changed?”

“I have been trying to show her –“

Anne shook her head. “It is not enough.”

“It will have to be enough; she will see, she will understand.”

Anne was silent.

***

At the parsonage, Mrs. Collins welcomed her guests and called for Elizabeth to join them. She excused herself to have her fine wedding tea set, the wedding gift from the Gardiners, taken from the cupboard so that it might be used to serve her important guests.

Elizabeth had seen the phaeton arrive; it was Miss de Bourgh as well as Mr. Darcy.

If it had just been Mr. Darcy, she would have had a convenient headache, but she felt could not so treat Miss de Bourgh without incurring a good deal of reprimand from Mr. Collins.

She tidied her hair, washed her face to remove any trace of tears and made her way downstairs.

Anne rose upon seeing Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet, you look quite pale! I hope we do not find you unwell?”

“No, I thank you, Miss de Bourgh. What you see is merely the result of a poor night’s sleep.”

“I slept ill as well, Miss Bennet,” Mr. Darcy interjected. “Perhaps it was something we both suffered last night.”

“If you refer to our meal, I beg you not to say so to Lady Catherine,” Elizabeth replied, looking at the floor. “Our dinner was delicious, and I would not want her to think otherwise.”

“Quite right, Miss Bennet,” Mr. Darcy replied. “Though I was not referring to the food.”

Elizabeth refused to be drawn. Instead, she directed her attention to Miss de Bourgh. “I saw your little equipage as you drove in; it must be delightful to drive it around the park.”

“It is, when the weather is fine.”

“I would think the weather to be often temperate here in Kent,” Elizabeth continued.

“It is, though we get rainstorms and snow just as you do in Hertfordshire. Of course, it is nothing compared to the weather in Derbyshire; is that not right, Fitzwilliam?”

“Oh! It is quite a bit colder in Derbyshire, though I believe Pemberley stays warm even in the worst weather.”

“Yes, so many fireplaces! And lovely rugs to keep out the cold!” Anne continued, watching Miss Bennet for any sign of interest.

But Elizabeth refused to be drawn into a discussion of Pemberley. “My relatives, the Gardiners, plan to visit the Lake District this summer. Have you ever been there, Miss de Bourgh?”

Anne shook her head. “No, I am afraid my mother thinks I am not well enough to travel.”

“I am sorry to hear it,” Elizabeth replied, politely.

“But my cousin here has traveled a good deal, have you not, Fitzwilliam?”

Mr. Darcy agreed that he had, and he list off the various counties he had visited.

Anne, eager to assist her cousin, added, “Fitzwilliam must travel a good deal to visit his various estates, is that not so, Fitzwilliam?”

Mary looked from one speaker to another, increasingly confused, until understanding dawned.

Of course! Mr. Darcy was interested in Lizzy, but Lizzy had given up on him.

Miss de Bourgh was trying, most valiantly, to advance her cousin’s cause, but mentioning his material advantages was not the way to go about it.

Her guests finally got up to leave, Mr. Darcy’s face now sad and confused; Mary had one brief opportunity, and she took advantage of it, putting a gentle hand on Miss de Bourgh’s arm and whispering, “Love.”

Anne’s face lit up, and she nodded quickly at Miss Mary before taking Mr. Darcy’s arm and returning to the phaeton.

The drive back to Rosings was short; too short, in Anne’s estimation, so she asked Mr. Darcy to drive around the park so that she might have some fresh air. “You must tell her that you love her, Fitzwilliam,” she began.

“It is useless; you saw how she regards me! She will not so much as look at me! No, I have waited too long.” His despair was palpable, and Anne was much moved by it.

“I think not. No woman so very deliberately ignores a man for whom she cares nothing.”

“Anne, I beg you to forgive me, but I fear you know little of these matters.”

“You might be surprised, Fitzwilliam. I have nothing to do but sit at Rosings, day after day, and I observe a good deal of the little dramas around me.”

“I do not have the pleasure of understanding you, Anne.”

“Servants,” she said, succinctly.

“Servants?”

“Oh, my, the romances, the ambitions, the squabbles! It is all of human nature, contained in one country estate! It is vastly entertaining.”

“Does Lady Catherine know of the interest you take in such matters?”

“There is no point in you looking so stern, Fitzwilliam. I have little enough distraction available to me, and you are too good to take away what little I have.”

Mr. Darcy sighed, tacitly acknowledging her point.

“Believe me, Fitzwilliam. Nothing will do but for you to get her alone and make the most sincere avowal of love a man ever made to a woman, preferably on bended knee. What have you to lose?”

“My pride, perhaps,” Mr. Darcy said.

“And if your pride is more important than winning Elizabeth Bennet, then you are not the man for her.” With that, she turned away and would not be drawn out again.