Page 34 of Moments Frozen in Time (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
DARCY
B y the time Miss Lydia and the rest of Elizabeth’s sisters joined me in the tea room, I had already written letters to the Gardiners and my investigator in London and dispatched a footman north along the Great North Road to make enquiries at inns in hopes of discovering Elizabeth’s whereabouts or her destination.
Bingley had accompanied the Miss Bennets to their aunt’s house, apparently unaware that I had not gone with them.
Mr. Collins remained in their company as well, making a deliberate show of ignoring me when I joined the group on the walk back to Longbourn.
He had taken issue with Miss Lydia’s statement that I would be accompanying them, refusing to enter the tea room and sharply rebuking her for what he considered impudence bordering on outright rebellion against his authority.
On the walk home, he attempted to seize Miss Lydia by the arm and escort her to her father himself, but she resisted, planting her feet firmly and refusing to be moved.
Even Miss Mary declined his offer of an arm, instead linking hers with Miss Kitty’s, leaving Miss Lydia to walk beside me.
Mr. Collins, in high dudgeon, stalked ahead of the group, frequently casting a dark glance in our direction .
At the front of the party, Bingley and Miss Bennet walked together, either deliberately ignoring the commotion behind them or wholly unaware of it, for nothing Mr. Collins said or did appeared to disturb their quiet conversation.
“Mr. Darcy,” Miss Lydia hissed, leaning closer, and I tilted my head so I might hear her better, “I told my aunt that Miss Bingley’s claim of a secret engagement was an outright falsehood.
My aunt said she never believed it anyway—she never once saw you speak to Miss Bingley at any event, especially when it was so clear you preferred Lizzy’s company.
She promised to be very vocal in contradicting anything Miss Bingley might say.
But… she had already heard what Mr. Collins said to you about your cousin.
I think all of this has only made you more interesting.
Apparently, you are now engaged to several different women at once, which is utterly scandalous.
Your quick dismissal of both claims should go far, but so much contradictory information will only garner more talk. ”
She laughed as she said it, clearly amused, though I found the situation rather more serious. Still, as all of this gossip was confined to Hertfordshire—some distance from London—I hoped it might not spread too far. Even so, I could not help but wonder what the eventual consequences might be.
“Regardless,” she added, her tone more subdued, “were you able to send your letters?”
I took a moment to explain all I had managed as she rummaged through her reticule, finally drawing out a folded sheet of paper. With a subtle motion, I felt her press it into the pocket of my jacket.
“Lizzy left you a letter, Mr. Darcy, and asked me to deliver it,” she said softly.
“I know it is not strictly proper—and she would scold me soundly if I did the same in her place—but I believe the circumstances justify it. Papa would disapprove, and Mr. Collins certainly would, but I do not care in the least what he thinks.”
She let out a long sigh. “Mama is pushing him towards Mary, and I cannot help but feel sorry for her. Mary does not want him—even she agrees that he is a toad. Lizzy warned that she would help Mary escape if either Papa or Mama tried to force a marriage, but if she is not in London with the Gardiners, I do not know what she can do now. I am just grateful Mama is not pressing him on me—there is nothing on earth that would induce me to marry that man.”
She gave a theatrical shudder that nearly drew a laugh from me. Only a few weeks ago, I had questioned the wisdom of introducing Georgiana to Elizabeth’s sisters. Now, the more I spoke with Miss Lydia, the more certain I became that such a meeting would be not only harmless but beneficial.
Still, my foremost concern was discovering where Elizabeth had gone and how quickly I might find her again.
As we approached Longbourn, I watched Mr. Collins stride past Bingley and Miss Bennet, marching towards the house with the air of a man who already considered it his own.
I could not help but wonder what he intended to say to Mr. and Mrs. Bennet—and whether Mrs. Bennet’s desire to see her eldest daughter married to Bingley might overcome her dislike of me enough to result in an invitation to tea.
I was quietly pleased to discover that Mr. Collins’ complaints were directed chiefly at Miss Lydia’s behaviour.
Although Mrs. Bennet cast a dark look at her youngest daughter, she said little to her.
Instead, her attention turned to arranging the room to her satisfaction—directing Bingley to sit beside Miss Bennet on the settee, placing Mr. Collins next to Mary in a far corner, much to their mutual displeasure, and then, with what I could only interpret as calculated purpose, indicating that I should sit beside Miss Lydia.
Miss Kitty was ordered to sit near her and to pour tea for everyone.
It seemed Mrs. Bennet believed she had fulfilled Miss Bingley’s request by removing Elizabeth from Longbourn, but that did not mean she would not attempt to place one of her other daughters in my path.
Perhaps, I thought wryly, she even meant to dangle Lydia before me as a means of spiting Miss Bingley .
“Oh,” Miss Lydia murmured after we had sat in silence for several minutes, listening to the various conversations swirling around us.
Mrs. Bennet was extolling Jane’s many virtues to Bingley with unsubtle enthusiasm, whilst Mr. Collins was loudly lamenting the poor reception he had received from his cousin—who, he claimed, had refused to hear his complaints about Miss Lydia’s obstinance.
“Lizzy made me promise to dance the first set with you in her place,” Lydia said in a low voice.
“Or, if you prefer, you could dance the first with Kitty and the supper set with me. Either way, Kitty and I will be sure to join you for supper. That will keep Miss Bingley from sitting with you altogether. Mr. Bingley will likely dance the same sets with Jane, of course, but I suppose Mary could have the last set with you—if you wish.”
“I would be delighted to dance those sets with you all in whatever order you prefer,” I told her with a smile.
“However, it will depend on the news I receive about your sister. If Elizabeth is safely in London, I may remain until the ball—if only to honour my promise and have the pleasure of dancing with all the Bennet ladies, save my dear Elizabeth. But if she is not in London, then I shall travel north myself to discover what I can about her whereabouts.”
I straightened, glancing towards where Mrs. Bennet held court, noting my friend’s discomfort and the faint flush of embarrassment colouring Miss Bennet’s cheeks. “Shall I interrupt your mother and enquire after Miss Elizabeth?” I asked Miss Lydia quietly.
She grinned. “Yes, please. I am very curious to see how she responds. Mr. Collins has been asking after Lizzy as well—he does not seem entirely content with Mary. Apparently, he had been told much of the beauty of the two eldest Bennet sisters before his arrival—although I know not by whom—and was rather disappointed to find Jane practically spoken for. Mama has been urging him towards Mary, yet he continues to pester both her and Papa about Lizzy, hinting that he ought to meet all his cousins before making any decision. Mary might have been willing when he first arrived, but after all his remarks about preferring a prettier sister, she rather dislikes him now. ”
“Does Miss Bennet return Bingley’s preference for her?” I asked, glancing at the pair. “I cannot quite tell what she is thinking. To me, she seems to look at him just as she does everyone else.”
“Oh, she likes him very much,” Lydia said knowingly.
“You are a man, and you do not notice such things—but look at how she blushes when he speaks to her and how she leans ever so slightly towards him. A lady does not do that unless she is intrigued. Besides, with our mother about, she does well to keep her feelings guarded. If she showed any obvious preference, Mama would be pushing them together even more than she already is.”
Considering that for only a moment, I pushed that thought aside for now. I would think more about it later.
“Mrs. Bennet,” I said, taking advantage of a brief pause in her chatter, “I wished to enquire about Miss Elizabeth. I hope she has not fallen ill after tending so diligently to Miss Bennet these past several days.”
At once, a flush crept up Mrs. Bennet’s cheeks. She opened her mouth, clearly flustered, but before she could manage a response, Mr. Collins interjected in a tone more petulant than concerned.
“Indeed! I have been asking the very same thing,” he said with obvious indignation.
“It is most irregular—most inconsiderate, even—that she should absent herself from Longbourn on the very day of my arrival. I had expected to be received by all my fair cousins, not to find one inexplicably missing!”
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes widened slightly, her composure faltering. “She—she was needed in London,” she stammered. “Yes, my brother wrote and asked for her help—with his business, you see. Just for a few weeks. It was all very sudden. Quite unexpected!”
Her voice trailed off, and she avoided my gaze, occupying herself with a needless adjustment of her sleeve. Mr. Collins gave a loud, disgruntled sniff, clearly preparing to speak again, but before he could, Miss Lydia cut in brightly .
“I thought you said she went to help with the children?” she asked, her tone light and curious.
The question might have seemed innocent to anyone else, but I suspected it was quite deliberate—an attempt to catch her mother in a contradiction and perhaps prompt a more revealing answer.