Page 28 of London Holiday (Sweet Escapes Collection #2)

Chapter twenty-eight

I should have known!

If there were people in her way, Elizabeth would never have seen them. She pushed through whatever lay before her, mindless in her determination to put him as far behind her as possible. How could she have been so bird witted? She, who prided herself on her perception and prudence, had fallen so abysmally into the stupidest sort of folly. How mortifying her descent!

She wanted to scream, to weep, and to run, all at the same time. She longed to hide in her bed for a month, and in the next thought, she could wish for nothing more than to strike something… no, not just something . She would strike him , right on that dimpled mouth, and wipe away that deceitful smile! How dare he masquerade as a gentleman? Hah! Likely enough, he really was nothing more than a drunken footman who happened to know a little Shakespeare, and the entire day had been no more than a ruse to take advantage of a naive country girl with no prospects of her own. What a fool she was!

He was not far behind, still calling her name and protesting his ignorance of her sudden fury. He had not ceased begging to know what he had done. Everything, that was all! Imposed on her, made her feel tenderly for him, and probably ruined her forever, if anyone ever heard a breath of the affair. And all so that he could make an indecent proposition!

She did not look back but pressed on faster. Gradually, his voice died away, but just before she reached the supper boxes once more, she paused and turned. It would not do for him to be trailing plaintively behind when she approached Mrs Jennings. What a tale to tell! She clenched her fists, her chin high, and looked defiantly round.

He was about thirty feet away, and she caught snatches of his forlorn figure as others passed between them. His arms hung slack at his sides, and a haunted look darkened his face. His mouth opened as if to speak once more, and he started to reach with an imploring hand, but she drew herself up, and he shrank. She held her challenging glare until he surrendered, blinking rapidly and still looking lost and pitiful. Had she still the veil of infatuation over her eyes, she would have yearned to soothe that broken expression, to reassure him that she, at least, was his friend… wretched soul was she!

He looked down, seemed to sigh, and then slowly turned another way. She waited until he had gone completely out of sight before she released the breath which had steeled her spine and hardened her face. Now, what remained but tears and humiliation? They stung already, but she could not dare to give way until solitude could afford her that luxury of berating herself for all her errors of judgment.

How ironic it was, then, that to gain solitude, she must first face one to whom that very notion would be abhorrent! Oh, how could she bear to speak now? And yet if she did not, Mrs Jennings’ instincts would accuse her of despondency, and demand explanations she was unwilling to give.

She waited another moment, collecting herself as she gazed toward that kindly lady’s box. One more moment. Two, perhaps. Three—just long enough for her pulse to steady and the tears to dry from her lashes. She drew a troubled breath, and took a step in that direction, only to be shaken anew.

“Miss Elizabeth! I had not thought it possible, but I find myself appalled! ”

She flinched, her stomach twisting, and closed her eyes. Oh, how had that man found her, and here of all places? She groaned before turning to face him. Was she cursed this day?

“Mr Collins,” she offered a demure curtsy. “This is indeed a pleasure, Cousin.”

Welcome to Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens

Pleasure? Bah! Pleasure! The faded sign at the gates was a slap to a wounded face, for he could not recall when he had felt more miserable.

Perhaps he had not anticipated proposing marriage to a virtual stranger as he had done, but he certainly had never expected to be so harshly rebuked and soundly rejected! Did she not know enough of his character, enough of his circumstances to understand the honour he paid her?

She must, surely, for their few hours together had afforded them a familiarity almost unattainable between a man and a woman before marriage. It was inconceivable that she, intelligent as she was, would not have understood enough of what had remained cryptic between them to grasp the magnitude of what he offered, as well as the sacrifice he would gladly pay for her. And yet she was insulting!

What manner of woman would take righteous offence at a confession of love? Surely it was nothing he had done wrong…. He tried to recount each of his many sins this day, or at least those of which he was perfectly conscious, but none of those had earned her indignation upon their commission. No, quite the opposite! And when he finally did come to the honourable conclusion, that something must be done to satisfy their growing attachment to each other, she would hear nothing of it!

He shook his head as he stumbled forward. The finest woman, possessed of the least unstable mind he had ever yet encountered, yet even she defied all hope of understanding. A dashed monstrous thing was this, for if he could not comprehend even her, what chance had he of domestic harmony if forced to choose another?

He had wished very much to see her safely into the arms of Mrs Jennings, but she would not even permit him that much. That look, contempt bordering on open hostility, he would not soon erase from his memory. There was nothing else for it; she would have her way, and come ruin or harm, she would not accept another word from him. Why?

He trudged slowly, painfully to the water gate, caring not whether an army of his own footmen awaited there to escort him back to his own house. What could it matter? He might as well bow his head meekly to the noose, might as well have Anne de Bourgh, for there was no consolation prize, no second-place award when the only right woman would not have him. All the rest were on a level field, and all would be a bitter compromise to a man who had almost attained perfection.

His mood subsequently dark and cheerless, he was hardly surprised when he wandered back through the gate, empty and alone, and saw none other than his uncle, the Earl of Matlock, stepping off the barge. He sighed and could almost feel himself grow an inch shorter.

“Well, Darcy,” his uncle growled, “I expect you have some sort of explanation for all this?”

Darcy pursed his lips, then dropped his eyes to the ground. “None whatsoever, Uncle. Let us go back.”

“My dear cousin, I must protest. What inducement could have brought a respectable young lady to such a venue, and without a chaperon?”

They were safely aboard a barge now, and mercifully, William—if that was really his name—had been nowhere in sight on their path from the Gardens. She was free to hang her head all she liked. It was not as if Collins were perceptive enough to discover her melancholy! “Sir, I was not without such protection, as I have indicated. My friend Mrs Jennings was awaiting my return at her box when you happened upon me.” That was half true, perhaps. She was invited but not necessarily expected. She doubted whether that semantic would trouble her thick-headed cousin.

“But who can such a woman be? I have not been introduced to her! Who is she, who could demand the attention of a lady of my family and detain her the whole of the day, keeping her away from her own family and her betrothed?”

“Sir,” her teeth clenched, “our betrothal has not been made official. I will ask you to kindly not refer to it as such! I have still four weeks, as per the agreement with my father.”

“My dear Miss Elizabeth,” he adopted that grating air with which, no doubt, he issued his sermons, “you can have no possible objection to such an agreeable connection as I have proposed. Indeed, your circumstances are likely to decline still further in that time, and we both know the distress and worry you are certain to relieve in your most excellent mother by forming an honourable alliance. Your elder sister is certain to profit by our marriage, for the disgrace of your younger sisters might be overlooked the more easily.”

“I am not yet twenty,” she reminded him firmly. “My father has assured me that until such a date, he will afford me his protection.”

“Protection! My dear cousin, pray do not speak as if I would take advantage of a young lady. My suit is honourable, as your good mother will attest. Moreover, it is only my very great forbearance and what I believed was your own excellent character which persuaded me to extend such an offer, for as my most esteemed Lady Catherine de Bourgh exhorts, we are to condole with those in trial and offer succour to those who suffer.

“I confess, an alliance in such a case is perhaps questionable to my own interests, but I feel it incumbent on my role as a clergyman to seek to aid the innocent while still pronouncing fit judgment upon the guilty. I am quite certain that your merits and My Lady’s excellent advice will render you a perfectly respectable companion for a clergyman, and we have the advantage of distance from Hertfordshire in my quiet abode in Kent. Surely, all due circumspection and prudence dictate that our marriage should take place at once, the sooner your family’s dignity may begin to make a recovery.

“It is, of course, my own generosity of spirit which leads me to offer to be the means of your family’s salvation, and I flatter myself, no other would be so magnanimous in the circumstances. But,” he comforted her, “where one ventures, perhaps another may follow, and perhaps by our excellent example of felicity, Miss Bennet and Miss Catherine may also one day be suited with respectable marriages. You must understand, Miss Mary and Miss Lydia,” he spoke the names as an anathema, “must content themselves with their lot, but you need not suffer more than you have already done.”

Elizabeth felt her cheeks burning. “Sir, as I have once informed you, you are the last man in the world who could make me happy, and I am convinced I am utterly incapable of making you so. I grant you my full blessing to withdraw your offer, with no recrimination on my part.”

“I may be forced to do so, my dear cousin, much as it would pain me to be seen as the sort of man who would disappoint any lady! But I have heard the most distressing rumour, and it was that rumour which led me to find you in the very place I had feared. Are you here in the company of a gentleman? I beg of you not to dissemble,” he held up a hand of generosity, his forgiving smile pasty in the darkness. “Pray, were you imposed upon or beguiled into a liaison? Fear not that I will publicise your disgrace, but of course, I must then break off our engagement and submit to your honourable father and most excellent uncle my reasons for withdrawing.”

She sealed her lips and stared at the water.

“Dear cousin, I beseech you—”

“I was invited to be the guest of Mrs Jennings,” she stubbornly retorted, unwilling to hear more of his self-aggrandisement. “I was not the only guest of her party, for there was indeed a gentleman I had never before met among her guests.” Perhaps it was a slight stretching of the plain truth, but as Mrs Jennings herself would not have disputed that pronouncement, she felt quite safe. “Had you the decency to pay your respects to the lady, your anxiety would certainly have been relieved on that head.”

“Impossible! For Lady Catherine has issued her decree, that we are to present ourselves at once, and no offence given to any person could be more of a ransgression than disrespect to my great lady.”

“I am not suitably dressed to meet such a grand personage,” Elizabeth pardoned herself. “Another day must suffice, for I intend to return directly to my aunt and uncle. They must be concerned for me, even if you will not allow that my friend might be.”

“What objection could any raise, if you are in the company of your betrothed? And pray, think nothing of your attire, for Lady Catherine is ever sensitive to the limitations of those of lesser station and is quite content to see the distinction of rank preserved by modest attire in other young ladies. As to going now, Mr and Mrs Gardiner, in their eminent wisdom, will think it nothing less than proper that you be presented at a time which My Lady decrees. Even your Mrs Jennings could not help but concur, naturally, if she knew all. I am quite certain on this point.

“You must know, my dear cousin, that another claimed your company this evening; a man whose notice of you could only be of a disreputable inclination, and this fact distresses me, my dear cousin, a great deal more than I am capable of expressing. My dear Elizabeth, pray assure me that you were not, in fact, in the company of a single gentleman for the whole of the day! For if true, this accusation betrays a temper disposed to manipulation and artifice of the most serious kind!”

“You may rest easy, for I was accompanied on my outing by a footman who came with me this morning from my uncle’s house, sir.” She crossed her arms and glared over the water. “Your information was inaccurate, for he was no gentleman.”

“Your assurances give me the greatest comfort! Although it is very strange, rather shocking that any young lady should venture out all day in town, it was at least fitting that your safety should be secured by a proper attendant. But could Miss Catherine not have attended you as well? And where is this erstwhile manservant?”

“No doubt he has gone with his fellows,” was her sour reply.

“But how is it then that my great lady’s information named a young lady whose appellation bears a striking resemblance to your own and who was known to have issued from Mr Gardiner’s house?”

“Where did your lady obtain her information? It sounds to me like hearsay. I did not conceal my face about town, and any number of persons might have seen me.”

“Well,” he nearly sputtered, “you may be assured that only the most reputable sources would have been consulted. But perhaps you are right, for, after all, I searched for you myself when I became concerned for your whereabouts, and perhaps not all witnesses are so exacting in the details as is proper. I am excessively attentive to matters such as these, for the safety of any young lady, be she relative or otherwise, must, of course, be the highest concern of any gentleman of her acquaintance.

“My dear cousin, pray, do not concern yourself that I shall condemn you harshly for a simple day of pleasure and enjoyment, for the amusement was innocent, and certainly the day fine enough to take the air. My good patroness, Lady Catherine De Bourgh, has more than once observed that young ladies who take pleasure in day outings are frequently possessed of the most flattering vitality and quite often are the soonest to bless their husbands with a little olive branch with which to bestow happiness on all her family. Rest assured—”

Elizabeth had ceased listening long ago. Strange, how easy it was to ignore Mr Collins when all her energies focused instead upon her humiliation at the hands of another. And what had she done to merit any better than a lumpy, sweating, ignorant beef-wit who liked nothing better than the sound of his own voice? She would receive precisely what she had earned, and she might as well become adept at neglecting one William Collins.