Page 12 of The Cat Who Loved Mr. Darcy (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

The morning after the assembly, breakfast at Longbourn was anything but subdued—full of animated talk about the ball and interrupted by competing exclamations.

The pale autumn sun lit the table with thin, watery brightness, and Mrs. Bennet was in flushed colour, her eyes alight with triumphant excitement.

Elizabeth tried to busy herself quietly with toast and tea, but there was little hope of escaping notice.

Mr. Bennet sat with his paper partly open, spectacles low on his nose, watching the company with dry amusement. His gaze eventually settled on Elizabeth.

“I must say, Lizzy,” he began in his mildest drawl, “your last set with Mr. Darcy was very edifying. So polite. So precise. I feared the assembly might expire from envy.”

Elizabeth paused, setting her knife down with deliberate care. “Papa, you do me too much credit.”

“Indeed,” he agreed at once. “But no one else will, so I feel bound to try.”

Jane tried to suppress her laugh behind her napkin.

Mrs. Bennet startled briskly. “Oh hush, Mr. Bennet! Two sets with Mr. Darcy. Two! I shall not have you make sport of it. Mark me, it is very promising.”

Elizabeth coloured, trying to steady her voice. “Mama, please—”

But Mrs. Bennet waved her off, turning eagerly to Mr. Collins, who was seated bolt upright with his coffee cup balanced precariously on his knee.

“Did you observe, cousin?” she demanded. “How attentive Mr. Darcy was? How very proper!”

Mr. Collins cleared his throat with great significance.

“Indeed, madam, I had the honour of witnessing it. A truly edifying display of decorum. I remarked to myself at the time that such restraint in dancing is rare among the fashionable world and most commendable. I shall mention it to her Ladyship at Rosings, for she is ever an advocate of well-regulated assemblies.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened slightly. She picked up her cup to conceal the smile that threatened to betray her.

Mr. Bennet raised his brows, turning to Collins with mock solemnity. “You will do her Ladyship a service, cousin. I am sure she has long desired news of Meryton’s moral health. Provided she can find it on a map, for instance.”

Mr. Collins puffed with solemn gratification. “It is indeed my duty, sir.”

Mrs. Bennet waved this aside impatiently. “Never mind Lady Catherine. I shall be satisfied if Mr. Darcy calls within the week, before returning to his Derbyshire estate. And why shouldn’t he? Jane, did you see them? Elizabeth looked very well.”

Jane smiled shyly. “They did dance extremely well together.”

Elizabeth gave her sister a grateful, fleeting glance.

Kitty and Lydia, who had been whispering and giggling at the other end of the table, finally perked up.

“Mama,” Lydia burst out, “never mind Mr. Darcy—tell them about Colonel Forster! You said you spoke to him!”

Mrs. Bennet’s face lit with renewed triumph. “Oh! Yes! Colonel Forster himself told me—the regiment is to come by tomorrow and remain in Meryton all winter. All winter, mind you! Until the spring roads improve. Such news!”

Lydia and Kitty all but squealed.

Mary allowed herself a not entirely elegant grimace, but one unmistakably full of moral disapproval.

Lydia clapped her hands. “Officers everywhere! We shall simply die of happiness.”

Mr. Bennet lowered his paper an inch, voice dry as dust. “A comforting plan. I presume you mean to die respectably?”

Mrs. Bennet scowled at him. “Do not be vulgar, Mr. Bennet! It will be most beneficial for the girls to have such society. Colonel Forster is a perfect gentleman,” she insisted, with the air of one making a pronouncement no one must dare question.

“He expressed every expectation that I would bring you all to call.”

Mr. Bennet peered over his spectacles. “Expectation, eh? Remarkable. Did he say so before or after you decided it for him?”

Mr. Collins blinked and sat forward eagerly. “I, for one, find the presence of the military highly conducive to the moral improvement of youth. It promotes discipline, loyalty, and right conduct—when properly supervised, of course. Her Ladyship has often observed—”

Elizabeth could bear no more. She set down her cup, her voice deceptively mild. “Indeed, Mr. Collins, how reassuring to know Meryton will be safe under such moral guidance.”

Mr. Bennet chuckled quietly into his hand. “Cousin, you hardly know what you are talking about. Spare me, please.”

Mrs. Bennet ignored them both. “Well! Mark me, Elizabeth, do not scowl. You have done very well, four dances with Mr. Darcy. Let us hope he is not too proud to call.”

Elizabeth let out a slow breath, trying to hide her answering smile.

Mr. Bennet tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair, eyes twinkling over the rims of his spectacles. “Oh, Lizzy,” he said mildly, “I hope you realise you provided the chief entertainment of the evening.”

Elizabeth stiffened just slightly. “I cannot think what you mean, Papa.”

“Four dances with Mr. Darcy,” he replied, raising his brows. “In full public view. I suspect several of the matrons present fell ill with envy. Even your mother was rendered speechless for at least half a minute.”

Mrs. Bennet huffed, setting down her cup with a clatter. “Speechless with joy! I knew he admired her from the moment he asked for the second set. Mark my words, he is a man in earnest.”

Kitty giggled. “Four whole dances! He barely spoke to anyone else!”

“Mr. Darcy was... very civil.” Elizabeth tried to keep her tone even.

Her father smiled faintly. “Civil, was he? I found him surprisingly open. He even asked my permission to visit you before leaving for Pemberley.”

Elizabeth felt her face grow warm. “Papa!”

“I thought it a very proper request,” Mr. Bennet went on calmly. “Shows a seriousness not always in fashion these days. I told him I had no objection.”

Everyone at the table turned to look at her. Elizabeth’s fingers tightened around her napkin before she lifted her chin. “Mr. Darcy spoke of his intention, and I said I would be pleased to hear from him.”

Jane’s smile was quietly approving.

Mrs. Bennet let out an excited squeal and fluttered her hands in triumph. “Oh, Lizzy! Four dances and now a call! I knew it, I knew it!”

Jane, sweet and steady as always, offered their mother a gentle, reassuring smile.

Elizabeth looked heavenward, shaking her head with reluctant, helpless amusement.

“Since we are speaking of what is truly important,” Mr. Bennet began mildly, fingers steepled under his chin, “it would not be unimportant to inform you all that I also had a rather instructive conversation last night with our neighbour, Mr. Bingley. As you no doubt observed, the young gentleman showed a very marked interest in our Jane, and was kind enough to claim her for two full sets—that is, four dances, as Mrs. Bennet so charmingly phrases it. I am convinced he is an honourable, well-intentioned young man. We will need to show him trust and proper courtesy, and not plague him with gossip, opinions, or foolish talk of militia officers and other trifles that would hardly interest a man considering marriage in our neighbourhood.”

Mrs. Bennet blinked rapidly, mouth forming a delighted ‘Oh’ before she remembered herself enough to let out a breathy little squeal. “Oh, Mr. Bennet! Indeed, indeed—I always said he admired her! And four dances!”

Jane, blushing at even the mention, tried to hush her mother with a quiet, “Please, Mama.”

Mr. Bennet’s gaze sobering slightly, swept to his younger daughters.

“I beg you all to take my request seriously. Do not embarrass your sisters, or ruin their fair chance at an appropriate future, with thoughtless giggling or flirtations with passing officers. Their good marriages may well determine your own future comfort. I trust you will not disappoint me. Mrs. Bennet—see that it is so.”

“Of course, Mr. Bennet,” Mrs. Bennet said breathlessly, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief. “I shall speak to them—you may depend upon it.”

Mr. Collins, who had been blinking in solemn confusion, cleared his throat in portentous preparation.

“Well, Cousin Bennet, if that is your settled view, I cannot help observing that you seem to have forgotten my own humble request—that one of your daughters might soon do me the honour of becoming my wife, thereby drawing our family ties closer for the benefit of all. Her Ladyship would be most gratified—”

Mr. Bennet turned to him, one brow arching with dry finality.

“On the contrary, Mr. Collins, I have not forgotten your request, nor have I ignored it. But you must agree that Providence seems to have other plans at the moment, and I, for one, would prefer not to disappoint it. I am sure the Almighty will find the proper means to provide you with a suitable wife in good time, to your satisfaction—and that of Lady Catherine. Meanwhile,” he added with a faintly ironic smile, “let us be grateful for the blessings we already possess.”

Mr. Collins blinked rapidly, clearly unprepared for such a reply. His mouth opened and shut once, twice, before he managed a pompous little cough.

“Ah—yes. Quite so. Very proper indeed. I am... most gratified to see your trust in Divine Providence. It is always best to leave such matters to the wisdom of the Almighty. Ahem.”

He smoothed his waistcoat with trembling fingers, avoiding Mr. Bennet’s gaze while his ears turned a vivid shade of red.

Elizabeth, watching from across the table, bit her lip to keep from smiling. Jane lowered her eyes politely, and even Mrs. Bennet seemed momentarily too surprised to scold, merely fluttering her hands with uncertain enthusiasm.

Mr. Bennet only lifted his cup with leisurely satisfaction, remarking in an undertone no one was meant to hear, “Well said, Collins. For once.”

There followed a short, awkward hush, broken only by the tap of a spoon against china.