Page 22 of He Taught Me to Hope (Darcy and the Young Knight’s Quest #1)
Having assured Lady Catherine in the most earnest manner her wishes would be acceded to over those of the child, Geoffrey Collins thoughts tended towards the gentleman seated at the side of his betrothed.
Were he a man of a suspicious constitution, he would have sworn there was some unspoken exchange between Elizabeth and her dinner companion.
He had to admit to suffering increasing annoyance.
That was three times in a single day she had undermined his authority in front of others.
It was one thing to do so amongst close family, but to be so blatantly disrespectful in a room full of strangers was insupportable.
Truth be told, in Collins’s estimation, there was only one person amongst their party who needed most to be made aware of Elizabeth’s unwavering loyalty to the man to whom she was betrothed—Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy!
That rich, arrogant, sanctimonious prick has some gall. Here he is, engaged to an heiress, the sole heir of all of this property and ostentatious wealth, and yet it seems he cannot take his eyes from my Elizabeth, and he makes no pretence to hide it.
What is he about? Does he suppose he can marry that cold fish of a cousin of his and take Elizabeth as his mistress?
I would not be surprised, knowing of his kind as I do.
Such degeneracy is characteristic of his ilk.
Well, that is his great misfortune! She is MY betrothed.
My intentions are strictly honourable whilst his are dubious at best. I will be damned if my plans will be disrupted on account of that bastard!
Geoffrey Collins decided a change in conversation was desperately in order.
“Your ladyship, if you will allow, I would like to offer my congratulations, as well, on the engagement of Mr. Darcy to your lovely daughter.” He raised his glass and offered a toast. All who would do so lifted their glasses, as well.
Some members of the party simply could not.
Collins went on to speak of the extraordinary prospects that lay ahead with the combining of the two prominent estates of Pemberley and Rosings Park in a manner that could bring no one more delight than Lady Catherine herself and no more vexation to anyone other than Darcy.
Mr. Collins raised the question of when the engagement would be announced publicly, the irony being even his own engagement had not been announced (a matter he intended to correct immediately upon his return to his home) .
Darcy was at a complete loss for words. All eyes were upon him, although only two of his silent inquisitors mattered most. Anne, whom he cared for deeply as a cousin and one whom he was not apt to subject to derision, and Elizabeth, whom he admitted to himself he was in love with and whose good opinion meant everything to him.
Anne looked at him pleadingly. He returned her look with one of assurance that he did not intend to engage in such a delicate discourse during that evening’s dinner party.
Lady Catherine seized the moment finally to have her nephew on public record of his true intentions, strongly suspecting, if not praying, he would not dishonour the family in any way.
She asked, “Well, Darcy, Mr. Collins has posed the question to which we are all rather eager to know the answer. When do you intend to announce your engagement to my daughter before the world?”
It seemed to Darcy as if providence was on his side. At that very moment, the butler approached him with a note on a silver salver. With all eyes firmly trained upon him, Darcy picked up the note for his own perusal and within seconds excused himself from the table.
“Where are you off to during the middle of dinner?” Lady Catherine demanded.
“Pardon me, everyone. This is an urgent express—one to which I must attend post-haste. I shall endeavour to return to the party before the end of the evening. Once outside the dining room, Darcy pocketed the card, which turned out to be blank, and said a silent prayer for his cousin’s foresight in coming to his rescue.
After dinner, when the gentlemen had joined the ladies in the drawing room and tea was being served, Lady Catherine once again directed her attentions towards Elizabeth.
“Please play something for me, young lady.”
“No, your ladyship! I beg of you. You see, I own to playing rather poorly.”
“Nonsense! Rarely do I have the opportunity to be entertained. Why, music is my delight! If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply herself. I am confident she would have performed delightfully.”
“I am afraid you might find my proficiency more distracting than entertaining,” Elizabeth demurred, hoping against hope such a prelude would discourage her hostess.
“Any degree of accomplishment is better than none. Why! I wager your skills would be quite admirable should you take the time to practise. I have told Mrs. Collins this several times, that she will never play really well unless she practises more, and though she has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the pianoforte in Mrs. Jenkinson’s room.
She would be in nobody’s way, you know, in that part of the house. ”
“I am certain my friend, Mrs. Collins, appreciates your magnanimous gesture; however—I,” Elizabeth began, but was interrupted before she could continue her sentence.
“Once again, I detect that unguarded impertinence in your speech that is most unbecoming. I insist on being satisfied!”
Geoffrey Collins agreed, “Yes, my dear cousin, I, too, shall be delighted to hear you perform on the pianoforte this evening. It has been far too long since I enjoyed that pleasure.”
Elizabeth acquiesced and made way to the grand instrument. She felt if nothing else, she would spend the rest of the evening stationed there, away from Lady Catherine’s increasingly annoying regard and her intended’s watchful eyes.
Darcy joined the party when tea was over and the card-tables were placed.
Lady Catherine was so taken with the elder Mr. Collins’s commendations of her daughter’s engagement in words that could not had been better expressed than if she had uttered them herself, she supposed they must be kindred souls.
This earned him the right to sit across from her as they sat down to whist.
Finally, Darcy saw a chance to speak with Elizabeth alone, and he seized on it.
He approached the pianoforte and placed himself so as to command a full view of her beautiful countenance.
He stood a few moments in silent, ardent admiration before venturing to speak.
He spoke tenderly, “It is not true, you know. ”
Elizabeth ceased her playing, “Pardon me, but to what are you referring, Mr. Darcy?”
“It is not true that I am engaged to my cousin Anne,” Darcy spoke softly.
“Actually, I know nothing of the sort. It is not as though you said anything at dinner to refute your aunt’s claims. Why are you speaking to me now?”
“I could not bear to have you return to the parsonage this evening, thinking I was engaged to marry my cousin. I am not.”
“Mr. Darcy, it is not as though you owe me any sort of explanation, other than perhaps to explain why you take an eager interest in persuading me against my own engagement. Besides, this is not the first time I have been made aware of your commitment.”
“That is all the more reason I feel the need to explain things to you. Do you still plan to accompany Ben for our adventure tomorrow?”
“I am aware of nothing that would force me to alter my plans and disappoint my son, Mr. Darcy.”
“To listen to Collins’s words one might think your opinion might have been swayed,” Darcy expressed, passively taunting her over an earlier moment that no doubt caused her some dismay.
Elizabeth certainly did not like the sound of that. She was far from amused. The look she bestowed on Darcy was more telling than words could ever be. Elizabeth struck a loud chord in a momentary exhibition of her frustration.
Darcy waited a moment or two before speaking again. “Perhaps we shall have a chance to speak of this in the morning.”
“Perhaps,” Elizabeth ventured to say. She started to say more but thought the better of it once Colonel Fitzwilliam joined the two of them. It did not go unnoticed by him how disturbed Mr. Geoffrey Collins had grown over the sight of Darcy and Elizabeth engaged in hushed whispers.
“How did you find my friend in Hertfordshire?”
The welcome addition of Colonel Fitzwilliam was a cause of considerable relief for Elizabeth, and she endeavoured as best she could to bestow as much of her attention as possible towards him .
When Lady Catherine had played as long as she chose, the tables were broken up, the carriage was offered to Mrs. Collins, gratefully accepted, and immediately ordered.
The party then gathered around the fire to hear Lady Catherine determine what weather they were to have on the morrow.
From these instructions, they were summoned by the arrival of the coach, and with many speeches of thankfulness on the younger Mr. Collins’s side, they departed.
As soon as they had driven from the door, Elizabeth was surprised to find Mr. Geoffrey Collins sitting as close to her as she could ever recall, with his hand resting securely on her own.