Page 7 of A Tale of Two Suitors

Elizabeth returned to the house, shivering. She went directly to her room and closed the door, disregarding her mother’s repeated calls.

Mr Ash immediately jumped into her lap, and she hugged him tearfully. Such a tight embrace was not exactly to the cat’s liking, so he mewed, demanding to be released.

“You sweet boy,” she whispered, stroking him.

So the unthinkable had actually happened: Mr Ash had turned out to be Miss Darcy’s lost cat — an unthinkable coincidence that might change many lives.

But there was much more drama behind the story that Elizabeth hardly dared to consider.

Mr Darcy’s warning about Mr Wickham, his mention that he was closely acquainted with Mr Wickham’s dishonourable behaviour, was a hint that the past behind their disagreements was deeper and more tormenting than either of them had revealed so far.

To believe either of them, she would need evidence, as Mr Darcy had implied.

She was determined to request as much from Mr Wickham at the first opportunity.

Of course, he was not obliged to indulge her, but since he had been the one to open the subject with her, he should expect further enquiry.

Besides Mr Ash’s story, Elizabeth was troubled by Mr Darcy’s confession regarding herself.

The more she thought about his words, the more they sounded as if he had confessed a sort of admiration for her, which was difficult to believe and even more to understand.

Surely a man like Mr Darcy could not have serious designs on her.

Their situations in life were so utterly different that it made any possible connection — other than a friendship — impossible to conceive.

She finally joined the family for breakfast, her hair still in some disorder and with little appetite.

Mr Collins met her with his large smile, which he probably considered charming, and Elizabeth felt even less inclined to eat.

“Lizzy, where have you been? I have been calling for you!” Mrs Bennet asked.

“I went for a walk, Mama.”

“Who were you talking to, Lizzy?” Lydia asked.

“Talking?” she repeated, sipping her tea.

“Yes, you were talking to a man. Was it Mr Darcy? I believe it was.”

“Mr Darcy?” Mrs Bennet repeated.

“Yes, Mama. Mr Darcy was taking a morning ride, and we happened to meet. He enquired about Papa and about you all, and that was it.”

“How strange that Lizzy met Mr Darcy alone in the woodland,” Lydia said, chuckling. “How funny it would be if Mr Darcy turned out to be Lizzy’s suitor?”

“Lydia!” Elizabeth cried, hot with mortification. “How dare you say that?”

“Why not? What would you say if I sneaked out of the house to meet a man? An officer, maybe? Perhaps even Mr Wickham — there is nobody more handsome than him!” Lydia and Kitty laughed loudly; Mrs Bennet shook her head in a poor attempt at scolding, laughing too.

“Lydia, do not tease your sister,” Mrs Bennet said. “We all know a man like Mr Darcy would never be her suitor. But you must admit it is a little strange that he keeps coming here. If not for Lizzy, he must come either for your father or for the cat — they seem to like each other.”

“Lydia, Mrs Bennet, enough! You should be honoured that a man like Mr Darcy calls on me. He was so generous as to lend me some truly valuable books. He is a man of consequence with whom you should not be trifling. I will not have it!”

Their father’s harsh rebuke silenced the ladies, but Mr Collins continued.

“Indeed, Mr Darcy is not the sort of man to make jokes about,” the clergyman said, frowning as he looked at them all.

“He is one of the most remarkable young men this country has, as Lady Catherine has pointed out many times. He cannot be anyone’s suitor — he is meant to marry someone who is his equal in fortune and connections. ”

Mr Collins paused briefly after this outburst of praise, then continued, “And you, Cousin Elizabeth, should not walk alone or meet any man without a chaperon. It is highly improper for a respectable young woman. Lady Catherine always insists upon the importance of following the rules of decorum.”

“Mr Collins, I have taken walks about the area, alone, since I was a child. I shall not change my habit because someone entirely unconnected with me disapproves of it. I find nothing improper in enjoying a little exercise,” she replied coldly, causing a change in Mr Collins’s countenance.

“Lizzy! Mind your words,” Mrs Bennet scolded her.

“I am sorry if my telling the truth upsets you, Mama. Please excuse me. I am not feeling well. I hardly slept at all last night, and I have a headache.”

“Lizzy, we are going to Meryton. Are you not coming with us?”

“No, thank you. I hope you have an enjoyable time.”

She hurried to her room and threw herself onto the bed, tormented and with a strange desire to cry. She heard Jane entering, but she pretended she was sleeping. Her attempt to put her thoughts in order failed, and her tumult increased.

The fact that Lydia had made such poor jokes that could have turned into harmful rumours affected her less than the revelation that Mr Collins was right: Mr Darcy was certainly meant to marry someone who was his equal.

Why would she even be troubled about that?

How foolish could she be to even assume anything more?

Lydia had called him her suitor as a joke, and only a simpleton would take such a thing in earnest.

She felt Mr Ash crawl onto the bed and curl up next to her, and she stroked him until he began purring. What would happen to him? Very likely Mr Darcy would ask her to return him to his sister. He had not said as much, but that would be the honourable way to end the story.

A while later, another knock startled her.

“Lizzy, dearest, you fell asleep after all. I hope you feel better.”

“A little bit, yes.”

“Lydia and Kitty went to Meryton. Mr Collins accompanied them.”

“Good.”

“Lizzy, is something wrong, dearest? You have not been yourself lately. Are you ill?”

“No, not at all,” she replied, smiling reassuringly at her worried sister. “I am perfectly well. I just found out something most extraordinary, but please, do not share it with anyone yet. And I mean anyone — not even your Mr Bingley.”

“Lizzy, do not tease me! Tell me what has happened.”

“It turns out that Mr Ash is Miss Darcy’s lost cat, Milo.” The brief statement left Jane confused and speechless, just as Elizabeth had expected. She requested an explanation, and Elizabeth revealed to her sister all the details of the discovery.

“Dear Lizzy, this is an extraordinary coincidence,” Jane stated at the end.

“Those are the exact words that Mr Darcy and I kept using.”

“So what will happen now?”

“I am not certain. He said he trusted I would continue to take good care of Mr Ash. And that he would inform Miss Darcy.”

“Poor Miss Darcy will be so happy with the news! But she might want her cat back.”

“She might. If that is the case, I shall ask to see how Mr Ash reconciles with her. I shall not just give him away, regardless of how tragic his loss was.”

“But Lizzy, did Mr Darcy not know who might have done such a horrible thing?”

“He seemed shocked, and then he suddenly left. He said he had urgent business to attend to. I am not certain what he suspects and what will happen.”

“Lizzy, may I ask…did Mr Darcy come specifically to talk to you?”

“Yes,” she admitted after a brief hesitation. “But he is certainly not my suitor. Such an assumption is ridiculous.”

“You should not be upset by Lydia’s jokes, Lizzy.”

“I might not be, but Mr Darcy would certainly not take such mockery as a joke. And Mr Collins was there to hear it — what could be more embarrassing?”

Even Jane’s attempts failed to comfort Elizabeth, but she continued to try until Mary came to inform them that Mr Bingley was in the drawing room and Mrs Bennet had asked for Jane.

The two of them went down together, Elizabeth’s heart racing restlessly, expecting to see Mr Darcy.

But his friend was alone. Greetings were exchanged, and the guest said, “Mr Bennet, Darcy asked me to pass you this note. He had to return to London urgently on some pressing matter. Oh, and Miss Elizabeth, he asked me to tell you to send Mr Ash his regards. I have to say, I never imagined Darcy to be so fond of animals.”

Mr Bennet took the note, while Elizabeth, feeling unsteady on her feet, sat. He had left? But only a few hours ago he had said he would call on them. What urgent matter could have changed his plans so suddenly?

“Mr Darcy’s note said I can keep the books until he returns and that he will bring me some more from his library,” Mr Bennet said with a large, satisfied smile.

Elizabeth was still in a perturbed state of mind, but even so, she understood Mr Darcy had clearly indicated his intention to return.

Whether he had done so for her father’s sake or hers, she did not dare assume.

For the rest of the day, Elizabeth blamed a headache and spent her time in her chamber, thinking about Mr Darcy, failing to draw a clear image of his character or to make sense of his actions.

Over the next few days, Elizabeth and Jane visited their friend Charlotte Lucas on two occasions, and each time Mr Collins accompanied them.

He and Sir William seemed to have become good friends, which gave both Elizabeth and Mr Bennet some well-deserved relief.

On one visit, the officers were also there, and Mr Wickham seemed exceedingly pleased to see Elizabeth.

He asked permission to sit next to her, which she reluctantly agreed to.

After a neutral beginning to the conversation, he said, “I hear Darcy left Hertfordshire unexpectedly. I wonder if my presence pushed him away. Do you happen to know the reason, Miss Bennet?”

“How could I know, sir? Mr Darcy’s affairs are completely unknown to me.”

“Rumours say Mr Bingley is hosting a ball. Perhaps that is why Darcy ran away. He would do anything to avoid dancing,” he attempted to joke, and Elizabeth returned a forced smile.

“Or perhaps he has some business related to his estate or his sister. I hear he is as good a landlord as he is a brother,” Elizabeth said.

“Yes, perhaps…”

“I assume you are acquainted with Miss Darcy?” she enquired.

“Very much so. I have known her since she was born. She was a sweet, lovely child, and she loved me very much. But she grew up to be as proud and arrogant as her brother.”

Elizabeth gazed at him warily. “Did she? But I heard she is about fifteen years old, the same age as my sister Lydia. I wonder how proud and arrogant she could be at that age.”

“Well, she is, especially with those beneath her. Darcy must have taught her well.”

“Have you seen her recently?”

“No…yes, this summer, but only briefly.”

“I see…”

“Speaking about the ball, I hope you will grant me the favour of a set, Miss Elizabeth.”

“Gladly, Mr Wickham.”

He then departed, while Elizabeth experienced another moment of confusion. Mr Wickham’s description of Miss Darcy was completely different from her brother’s; one of the two men was either lying or was a poor judge of character.

***

Days passed, and Mr Bennet finished reading Mr Darcy’s books; he loaned them to Elizabeth and Mary, wondering when Mr Darcy would return with more, but there was no news about the gentleman.

From one of their usual visits to Meryton, Lydia and Kitty returned in the company of Mr Denny and Mr Wickham.

At their entrance, Jane was working on her embroidery, while Elizabeth was reading by the window, with Mr Ash sleeping on her lap.

The two officers bowed politely to the ladies, then Mr Ash suddenly jumped to his feet, arched his back, and began to hiss and spit at them.

Before anyone could intervene, Mr Ash jumped towards the two men, but he landed on a chair, then fell to the ground.

“What on earth…?” Mrs Bennet cried. “Lizzy, take that wild cat out! Upon my word, I shall kill him before he kills someone else!”

“I am truly sorry. Something must have scared him for him to respond in such a way,” Elizabeth said, addressing the guests as she struggled to catch the cat.

“I have told you many times that that cat cannot be trusted, Lizzy! What if he scratches our guests? You must not allow him in company again!”

“Yes, Mama,” Elizabeth agreed simply to end the conversation.

Holding the cat in her arms, she took him to her room, but he seemed unable to calm down.

He was clearly agitated, miaowing and spitting as he paced about the room.

She had not seen him in such a state since the night she had saved him from the sea.

She closed the windows carefully, then left the room, allowing him time to calm down.

In the drawing room, an animated conversation was being held, which she tried to join.

The officers’ visit did not last long, and they were invited to call again soon.

When Elizabeth returned to Mr Ash, he was still restless and would only drink a little bit of milk.

It was several more hours before he fell asleep, but during the night his agitation returned.