Page 31 of In Spite of All: A Love Unbroken

Chapter Thirty-One

B efore Mrs. Bennet’s thought could fully take hold, the door to the parlour was thrown open.

“Mr. Darcy, Cousin Elizabeth, forgive me for my tardiness. For some reason,” he cast an angry look into the hallway behind him, “I was not notified of your arrival. I happened to discover it quite by accident.”

“Do not refer to my wife so informally, sir. She is Mrs. Darcy to you,” Darcy said coldly, standing and moving protectively as though to block the man from even looking at his wife. “Who exactly are you?”

Had Mr. Collins possessed even a fragment of self-awareness, he would have moderated his approach given the frigid reception, but alas, he viewed the question as permission to continue.

“I am William Collins, Mr. Darcy, the heir of Longbourn and cousin to Mr. Bennet,” Collins stated proudly. “Not to mention, I possess the living granted to me by your aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Now that you have returned my intended to me, we can marry and return to my cosy little parsonage in Hunsford. My patroness informed me that she would take care of all the legalities and ensure that our wedding would take place just as planned.”

The sound Darcy made at these claims startled everyone in the room. Even Mr. Collins seemed to recognise that he might have said too much. “My wife is not your intended and will never be. There are no ‘legalities’ to take care of. Are you yet unaware of the changes that have taken place at Rosings since you left? Lady Catherine is no longer in charge there; my cousin Anne has married and claimed the inheritance that was always rightfully hers. The former Miss Anne de Bourgh is at Netherfield and will send for you soon to speak to you about your future.”

“How can Miss de Bourgh have married another?” Mr. Collins wailed, wringing his hands. “She was to wed you, Mr. Darcy! Such a perfectly arranged match, blessed by Lady Catherine herself, and now you have absconded with my cousin—my own intended! This is utterly improper. Lady Catherine, no longer in charge of Rosings Park? Impossible! It is her estate, hers by right. She appointed me as rector; she has directed all my duties. If Lady Catherine is no longer overseeing Rosings, how am I to proceed? Who shall guide my humble endeavours, correct my errors, and… and compose my sermons? Who, I ask, if not the great Lady Catherine?”

Collins clutched his chest, looking thoroughly undone, as though his entire sense of purpose were crumbling before him.

Darcy struggled not to roll his eyes at the foolish man who appeared on the verge of a collapse at hearing this news. “Perhaps you should return to your room and begin your packing. Once my cousin has spoken with you, you will have a better understanding of what you are to do. My wife and I are here to visit her mother and sisters and would prefer to do so without a stranger intruding.”

All five Bennet ladies stared at their guest, waiting to see what he would do next. Nothing they had tried had managed to silence the man whose incessant chatter had largely consisted of praise for his esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine, or grandiose plans regarding the sister he intended to wed—with or without her consent. Clearly, he had taken Lady Catherine’s bold assurances to heart, genuinely believing that she could have Darcy’s marriage to Elizabeth annulled, thus clearing the way for him to swoop in and “restore her reputation” by making her his bride.

To their astonishment, Mr. Collins began to back towards the door, practically bowing with each step as he paid effusive obeisance to Lady Catherine’s nephew. His reverent gaze fixed on Darcy, he seemed unable to decide whether to retreat or remain, wavering between his desire to please and his palpable fear of offending the man he now deemed a most important connection.

“Thank you!” Lydia cried, barely managing to hold in her laughter until the door shut behind Mr. Collins. She turned to Elizabeth, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Lizzy, I simply cannot imagine the life you would have had if you had actually been forced to marry that man! He is so absurd!” She giggled, then looked to Darcy with an air of exaggerated innocence. “I know Lady Catherine is your aunt, Mr. Darcy, but Mr. Collins talks about her as if she were the Queen! I cannot decide if I should be terrified of her or laugh outright. She sounds frightful. Although”—she fluttered her eyelashes with what she considered charming boldness—“having a rich, handsome brother certainly has its benefits.”

Lydia’s attempt at flirtation dissolved into hysterical laughter as she clutched her stomach. “Did you see his face as he left?” she gasped between giggles, glancing at her sisters as if expecting them to join in.

“Lydia!” Jane and Elizabeth exclaimed in unison, mortified by her antics.

Darcy’s expression darkened as he looked down at his young sister-in-law, his voice low and cold. “Miss Lydia,” he began, his tone cutting through her laughter, “only moments ago your mother suggested that my wife and I sponsor you in society. Let me assure you, if this is a demonstration of your usual behaviour, I will never encourage Elizabeth to host you in London. You have much to learn about proper behaviour and decorum before that is even possible.”

“What can you mean by that, Mr. Darcy?” Mrs. Bennet protested. “My Lydia is merely lively and is much admired by all the young men in Meryton.”

“Do you wish for your youngest daughter to marry the kind of man who admires her in Meryton, or do you hope for something better for her?” Darcy asked pointedly.

Mrs. Bennet gave him a calculating look, her mind already spinning with ambition. “Well,” she said with a dismissive wave towards Elizabeth, “if Lizzy —with her unfortunate looks and peculiar accomplishments—could manage to capture you, Mr. Darcy, then surely my other girls could aim even higher! Lydia, with her liveliness, might attract a peer, and Jane—oh, with her beauty—why, a viscount at the very least…”

Her voice trailed off as she noticed the disapproving set of Darcy’s jaw and the unmistakable irritation in his gaze.

“Elizabeth did not ‘capture’ me,” he corrected, his voice crisp and unyielding. “While she has many fine qualities that certainly drew my attention when we first met years ago, I married her for no reason other than deep and devoted love. As for Miss Lydia,” he added, his tone growing sterner, “though she is young, the way she conducts herself will hardly attract the notice of anyone respectable. Such behaviour only risks drawing the attention of a rake or a scoundrel.”

Mrs. Bennet gasped theatrically and swooned back into her chair, one hand pressed to her forehead in a dramatic display of shock. Darcy exchanged a knowing look with Elizabeth, unable to suppress the slight roll of his eyes. They had anticipated her mother’s reaction, recognising it as one of her typical attempts to manipulate through feigned distress.

“Enough of that, Mama,” Elizabeth said firmly. Her voice held an authority that left little room for argument. “Fitzwilliam is correct. Lydia’s behaviour, though tolerated here in Meryton, would be unthinkable in London society. Let me be perfectly clear,” she continued, her gaze sweeping over her mother and youngest sisters, “I will not allow any of my sisters to tarnish the reputation of my husband or our future children by gaining a reputation as a lightskirt or worse.”

Mrs. Bennet’s eyes widened at Elizabeth’s unexpected forcefulness. “But Lizzy, you would deny your sisters the chance to… to be admired?” she stammered, clearly affronted.

“If admiration comes at the cost of their reputation, then yes, I would deny them such attention,” Elizabeth replied, her gaze unwavering. “My own acceptance in society is already questionable, in part due to the decisions we made. However, I will win my detractors over by behaving with decorum. Lydia’s unabashed behaviour and flirtations would only serve to make my own acceptance more difficult. Lydia will have much to learn before she is invited to spend time in town.”

Lydia, clearly annoyed by the turn of conversation, gave an exaggerated sigh. “Lizzy, you make everything sound so dreary. I merely wish to have some fun!”

“Fun that could ruin you, Miss Lydia,” Darcy interjected sharply. “As it is Elizabeth’s and my duty to ensure that such recklessness does not damage our family, I suggest you reconsider what you deem ‘fun.’ Idle flirtations that have you labelled as ‘fast’ and ruin your and your family’s reputations are not ‘fun.’”

Mrs. Bennet glanced between her daughter and her formidable new son, quickly reconsidering her plans. The way Mr. Darcy had so easily handled Mr. Collins and the unwavering firmness with which he spoke now—backed by Elizabeth’s clear support—signalled that he was not a man to be swayed by her usual tactics. Perhaps, she realised, he would be far less susceptible to her methods than her own husband had been.

In her early days as Mrs. Bennet, she had discovered that a well-timed fainting spell or a call for her salts could make her husband relent on nearly any issue. He had initially responded with concern, but over time, he had simply resigned himself to conceding rather than face her “ailments.” The longer they were married, the less resistance he offered, to the point where he rarely spoke to her except to agree.

But this man—Mr. Darcy—was different. She could see already his will was as solid as his wealth, and he was unlikely to indulge her schemes or humour her theatrics. If she wanted to keep favour with him, she would need to approach things with more care.

The Darcys remained at Longbourn for a few more hours. At one point, Darcy stepped outside to speak with his coachman while Elizabeth accompanied Jane upstairs.

“Thank you, Jane, for ensuring that our younger sisters did not appropriate all of my belongings for themselves. While there are many things that I no longer need, there are a few small items that I am grateful for the opportunity to recover,” Elizabeth said, entering the room.

“Of course, Lizzy,” Jane replied with a warm smile. “You mentioned you would be acquiring a new wardrobe, and that our sisters might claim your old dresses and bonnets, so I focused on selecting the items I thought you would want.” She gestured to a large trunk by the bed. “I packed most of your books and all of your music already, but anything I was uncertain about, I left out for you to sort through.”

Elizabeth’s eyes softened at Jane’s thoughtfulness, yet instead of going to the dresser or vanity as Jane had expected, she knelt beside her bed. Lifting the corner of a small well-worn rug, she pressed her fingers to a section of the floorboard, prying it up carefully to reveal a hidden space. From within, she pulled out several small, bound journals, a modest collection of jewellery, and some coins in an old reticule.

Jane’s eyes widened in surprise. “Lizzy, what is that?”

Elizabeth chuckled, brushing a bit of dust off the cover of one journal. “A hiding spot—my secret cache, if you will. You know how Lydia loves to snoop around in our rooms, do you not?”

Jane nodded, already understanding.

“When I realised Lydia’s… curiosity was uncontainable, I needed a solution, especially after I returned from Derbyshire. I loosened this floorboard, and it turned out to be the perfect place to hide anything I wished to keep private—all safe here. I even left a few trivial things around for her to ‘discover,’ just enough to satisfy her, so she would not look deeper.”

Jane’s expression was one of amused admiration. “How clever you are, Lizzy. I would never have thought of such a thing.”

Elizabeth grinned, her fingers lingering on the worn leather of her journals, the familiar texture reminding her of all the thoughts and memories she had poured onto those pages. “It worked well enough. I could not speak to anyone of my heartbreak since Father forbade it, and I did not want to risk Lydia finding any of it. That, and I was saving money so I could make my way to London when I came of age. I intended to try to find Fitzwilliam, convincing myself that if I could make my way to our aunt and uncle, they would help me.”

“Lizzy,” Jane gasped.

“I would not have left without telling you and finding a way for you to accompany me,” Elizabeth replied. “Now, I do have a serious matter to discuss with you. Our Aunt and Uncle Gardiner plan to travel to Longbourn for Christmas. I know you have not seen them in some time, but I had hoped to ask you to join Fitzwilliam and me in Derbyshire. If you do not want to come right away, we can send a carriage for you to join us in the new year.”

Jane hesitated. “I… I am not certain yet, Lizzy.”

Elizabeth eyed her sister carefully. “What is it? It is not Mr. Bingley, is it?”

“No, it is not Mr. Bingley,” Jane admitted slowly. “I do… I do have hopes towards another, but I am not certain that anything will ever come of it.”

“Who is it, Jane?” Elizabeth asked.

“Oh, you will think me as silly as Lydia. I confess that I admire someone I should not, someone who will likely never even consider me. I believe he likes me well enough to talk to me, but I am too poor for him to marry,” Jane admitted.

“Who is it?” Elizabeth repeated.

“It is a colonel stationed in Meryton assisting with the militia here. Last I heard, he had left for London, and I do not even know if he will return,” Jane confessed.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam?” Elizabeth cried.

“How do you know the colonel, Lizzy?” Jane asked.

Elizabeth laughed. “He is my dear husband’s cousin, Jane, and a very good man. He is escorting his mother to her father’s house at present, but hopes to return to Hertfordshire early next week.” She looked at her sister knowingly. “You admire him?”

“I do,” Jane admitted. “We met several times in Meryton and at parties and gatherings. Often we found ourselves gravitating towards the other, and I enjoy speaking with him. However, I believe he does not reciprocate my feelings; furthermore, I am certain that, being an earl’s son, he will marry someone far superior to me in social status.”

Elizabeth considered what her sister said, answering very seriously. “Richard has had much weighing on his mind of late, Jane. I do not believe he has even thought of marriage before. I… I cannot tell you all, but suffice it to say, we believe Richard’s father and aunt were a driving force in keeping me and Fitzwilliam apart for all those years. The matter has still not been fully resolved; you might need to be patient with him.”

Jane sighed. “Mama intends to push me towards Mr. Bingley because he is wealthy. She is so glad you are staying at Netherfield because she thinks that it will allow me to visit more frequently to deepen my connection with him.”

“She knows that we are not staying for long, does she not? We will depart from Netherfield on Monday or Tuesday,” Elizabeth said.

“Mama is convinced she can persuade you to stay longer, through Christmas, in fact,” Jane replied.

Elizabeth raised her brow. “We will leave no later than Tuesday morning. We hoped to wait for Richard to return before we left, but we will need to leave on Tuesday to ensure we arrive at Pemberley by Saturday evening so we are not forced to remain at an inn over a Sunday. Fitzwilliam would prefer to leave on Monday if it is at all possible.”

Jane looked down, her expression shadowed. “I am sorry, Lizzy. I knew Mama might have… hopes, but I expect her to be insistent. Mama truly believes she can persuade you, and if not you, then she hopes your husband can be convinced to delay his departure.

Elizabeth’s laugh was soft yet determined. “Mama underestimates Fitzwilliam. She does not yet know him, but she will quickly see that he is not easily influenced, especially by her attempts at manipulation. He is not our father. If I asked him to stay longer, he would honour my wishes, but we are in agreement on this. We will spend our first Christmas as husband and wife at Pemberley. Mama may have other hopes, but our plans are decided.”

“Mama will be disappointed,” Jane replied.

“I cannot help that. We were clear with our intentions. Now, do you intend to remain here or to come with us? I make no promises, but I can invite Richard to join us Pemberley while you are there. Or perhaps, I can ask him to escort you later,” Elizabeth said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.