Page 52 of Heiress of Longbourn (Pride and Prejudice Variations)
Elizabeth strode toward the parsonage, her hand on Colonel Fitzwilliam’s arm. It was a familiar enough pose, but never before had she felt that she might wander off course and fall into a creek without the assistance of a guiding arm. The last time she had felt so discombobulated by life was when Lydia was born in her mother’s bedroom, and Elizabeth, then age five, had crept in to watch what was truly a most bizarre and peculiar miracle.
“Are you well, Miss Bennet?” the colonel asked worriedly when she stumbled over a slight hole in the road.
“I confess I am not,” she admitted after a moment’s thought. “My mother has long been famed for her nerves, and I never understood them, but perhaps I have an inkling of how she feels about the vagaries of life. Only four and twenty hours ago, I was quite confident about the people around me, and I now find myself realizing I misjudged Mr. Darcy, Mr. Wickham, Lady Catherine, and Miss de Bourgh. Perhaps, Colonel, you will shortly turn into a dancing harlequin, and my discomfiture will be complete.”
Richard Fitzwilliam laughed aloud at this and patted the lady’s petite hand, “My dear Miss Bennet, I assure you that I find myself equally bewildered. I thought I knew my cousin and aunt well, and now discover that they have been acting parts in a most serious play for many years.”
“It is like that, is it not?” Elizabeth mused in awe, “and truly, they are not the only ones. Wickham has played the part of the noble gentleman and sadly succeeded in hiding his predatory character from me, my family, and my acquaintances.”
“We will deal with Wickham,” the Colonel vowed. “But come, let us talk of other things, shall we not? It would be best if our spirits were calm when we speak with Mr. and Mrs. Collins.”
Elizabeth halted suddenly, forcing her companion to stop with her.
“What is it, Miss Bennet?” he asked worriedly.
“Do you suppose ... could Mr. Collins also be playing a part?” she asked in wonder.
The colonel lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “You mean perhaps he is not, in fact, a toad-eating sycophant?”
“The rector seems almost too absurd at times to be real,” she pointed out. “I wonder if all this time, he too has been merely an actor in a most complex drama.”
She considered this and began walking along again before sighing openly and saying, “I rather hope not, in truth. It would be unkind and, I believe, immoral to pretend to be a fool when courting a lady. My friend Charlotte deserves better.”
“I will ask my aunt,” the Colonel assured her, “though I believe the parson probably is exactly as he seems to be. Lady Catherine has a long history of gathering fawners and flatterers about her; surely they are not all members of this mysterious League of the Golden Daffodil.”
“Unless they are,” Elizabeth replied. “But yes, we will learn more soon.”
They had achieved the parsonage by now, and a maid opened the door. A moment later, Mr. Collins surged out, his complexion ruddy with excitement.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam, thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for escorting my cousin back to the parsonage, and please convey my best wishes to her ladyship, who was so gracious as to invite my young cousin to Rosings for tea. The munificence, the kindness, the benevolence, the nobility, of Lady Catherine cannot be overstated...”
Richard Fitzwilliam watched with some envy as Miss Bennet scampered into the parsonage, leaving him with the garrulous rector.
***
“Do you love Miss Elizabeth Bennet?” Anne de Bourgh demanded of her cousin, Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Darcy winced and cast an agonized glance toward Anne’s companion, Mrs. Jenkinson, who was seated behind the office desk taking notes in a small black book.
“Calm yourself, Darcy,” his cousin ordered. “Mrs. Jenkinson is a vital and trusted member of the League, and she will not write any details of your regard for Miss Bennet. I am merely wishful of understanding your current views of the lady. She rejected your suit most forcefully. Are you angry with her?”
Darcy compressed his lips. “Yes, I am.”
Anne waited patiently, and a full thirty seconds later, Darcy’s shoulders fell despondently. “And yet, I find myself more angry at myself than at her. I behaved very poorly, Anne.”
“It sounds as if you did,” his cousin declared drily. “Insulting a lady’s family when you are proposing is at least an interesting way of making an offer, but not a traditionally recommended one.”
Darcy groaned and covered his eyes with his hands.
“You are entirely correct, of course,” he admitted. “It is true that Miss Bennet’s family is not well behaved, but given that I was pledging my love – oh, Cousin, I truly thought I was doing her a great favor by offering for her and had not the slightest thought in my simple head that she would refuse me! I was properly humbled by her.”
“I daresay she has done you a great favor then, no matter the eventual outcome,” Anne commented.
“Eventual outcome?” Darcy asked in a puzzled way.
“It seems she is ashamed of trusting Wickham, is she not? Perhaps something can be salvaged from the wreckage of your thoroughly rocky relationship?”
Something twisted in Darcy’s heart, and he actually felt moisture begin to collect in his eyes. He shook his head to conceal his emotion and his voice, when he spoke, was harsher than he intended. “It seems that she hates me, Anne. I doubt she will ever want to see me again once she leaves Kent.”
The heiress of Rosings tapped one finger on her lips, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, “I do not think she can avoid seeing you again, Cousin, as it will be easier to deal with Wickham if you are in Hertfordshire with me.”
“With you?”
“Yes, but more of that later. Mother and I will need to discuss the plan of attack to find those letters of Georgiana’s. Tell me about your friend Mr. Bingley; has he quite recovered from his attachment to the eldest Miss Bennet?”
Darcy felt another twinge of guilt as he shook his head. “No, Bingley has been quite morose ever since we left Netherfield. I have never known him to pine so long for a woman.”
“And what is the eldest Miss Bennet like?”
“She is exceptionally handsome with charming manners. My reasons for opposing the match primarily had to do with the Bennet family’s manners and ties to trade, but I truly thought Jane Bennet had no particular love for my friend. Clearly, I was wrong.”
Anne nodded with satisfaction. “Very well, I can work with all this. Go away, Darcy, and take a nap, or play billiards with Richard, or something of the sort. We will have a war council in the morning.”
Fitzwilliam Darcy, finding himself firmly dismissed, rose to his feet and strode out the door. In spite of himself, he felt a surge of hope in his battered heart. If he and Elizabeth were to spend more time together in Hertfordshire, perhaps there was a tiny sliver of hope that she would soften toward him.
He was, he acknowledged ruefully to himself, still very much in love with Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn.
***
“Do you quite loathe Mr. Darcy, Miss Bennet?” Anne de Bourgh inquired as she poured tea for her young guest. Elizabeth had been summoned to Rosings early, to the combined delight and bewilderment of Mr. Collins, who was pleased that his cousin was so elevated, but also puzzled as to what Elizabeth had done to gain Lady Catherine’s favor such that she was honored with private teas.
Elizabeth winced at Miss de Bourgh’s question and then glanced at Lady Catherine, who said authoritatively, “I do beg you not to prevaricate, Miss Bennet. If we are to keep Wickham from harming additional women, if we are to regain those love letters which will bring scandal to our name, we need honesty from everyone involved.”
Elizabeth sighed and confessed, “I do not loathe Mr. Darcy, precisely. I still believe him to be an overly proud man, but I lay awake much of last night thinking over our previous interactions. I am ashamed to realize that I was quite pleased with myself for disdaining a wealthy, high borne man in favor of a poor militia lieutenant. In truth, Wickham’s accusations against Mr. Darcy were inappropriately shared given our nascent acquaintance, but my itching ears were eager for gossip about your cousin. I was blind to my own pride and prejudice.”
“You are not the first, nor will you be the last, to make such an error, Miss Bennet,” Anne assured her. “I am pleased that you have so quickly realized your own culpability. Of course, Darcy was much to blame for what must have been a most uncomfortable meeting when he harangued your family so rudely.”
Elizabeth blushed. “I fear that he is quite correct that my mother and my two youngest sisters are poorly behaved.”
“More so than I am?” Lady Catherine queried with a chuckle, earning her an inquiring glance from Elizabeth. “Come, my dear Miss Bennet, I am aware that my outer persona is utterly ridiculous! I ask rude questions, I say absurd things about joints of meat and how best to put shelves in closets. It is, of course, an act on my part, but it is rather ironic that Darcy would disdain your family while accepting me in all of my farcical glory.”
Elizabeth was startled into laughing aloud at this. “Truly, Lady Catherine, you had me completely fooled!”
“Thank you, Miss Bennet, you are too kind. It seems I have most of the world fooled,” the lady responded evenly. “But come, do you think for the sake of removing Wickham from society you can tolerate spending additional time with Darcy? Or is his presence completely disgusting to you?”
“Indeed,” Elizabeth said, lifting her chin, “I am quite willing to spend time with Mr. Darcy if it will enable you to retrieve Miss Darcy’s letters and get Wickham off the streets.”
“Very good, thank you,” Lady Catherine intoned, ringing a bell which was sitting near at hand. A moment later, the butler stepped into the room.
“You rang, my lady?”
“Please inform Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam that I wish to see them here as soon as possible.”
“Yes, my lady.”
The man withdrew and Elizabeth was suddenly filled with burning curiosity about another matter. “Lady Catherine?”
“Yes?”
“What of Mr. Collins, Madam? Is he a member of your League of the Golden Daffodil?”
Anne de Bourgh and her mother exchanged astonished glances, and the older woman shook her head. “No, my dear Miss Bennet, he is not. He is a fawning fool. In his case, his outward appearance and manners are truly reflective of his inner being.”
“Why did you give him the Hunsford living then?” Elizabeth inquired.
“I wanted a simpleton. Inevitably, the rector of Rosings and I must be in company at least occasionally, and I did not wish for an observant man who might notice the extra comings and goings of the members of the League. I will say this, too – Mr. Collins is not particularly intelligent, but he is a kind man, he treats his wife well, and is capable enough to serve his congregants.”
“That is true,” Elizabeth mused thoughtfully, “though I fear that Mrs. Collins is very astute, and you may well not be able to entirely conceal your activities from her.”
“You are correct,” Lady Catherine agreed. “I admit to being quite put out when Mr. Collins returned home with an intelligent bride. I also confess that I made inquiries about your family, Miss Bennet, and did not anticipate that you or your sisters would be particularly bright, as your mother does not have a reputation for great sense.”
Elizabeth’s eyes flared wide. “So you deliberately sent Mr. Collins to Longbourn in the hopes that he would win a stupid bride?”
“Precisely,” the lady divulged, “though I also wished to mitigate the pain of that most foolish entail for all of you. Really, what was your grandfather thinking, Miss Bennet?”
“I suppose he was thinking that my father would sire a son,” Elizabeth said with a weary smile, “but I agree with you entirely about the entail. At any rate, Charlotte will be an excellent mistress of the estate when the time comes.”
The door to the sitting room opened, and Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam entered. Elizabeth turned, found her eyes meeting Darcy’s, and she took a sudden breath. He looked so worried, uneasy, even vulnerable, and she found herself pitying him.
“Come inside,” Lady Catherine ordered, “and take a seat. It is time for a Council of War.”