Page 35 of The Shades of Pemberley
U naware though he was about the exact identity of the man in the clerical collar, Darcy’s anger at the man for accosting his Elizabeth was a raging bonfire of frustration, longing, and determination that no one would ever so much as lay a hand on her.
It had taken longer to pursue them than he had thought, but when he approached and witnessed the oaf lunging for Elizabeth, watching with admiration as she sidestepped and landed a kick against his shin, Darcy reacted without thinking.
The man could not defend himself, for Darcy stepped behind him, grasped his jacket, and threw him into the dust of the path where he belonged.
The sight of him reassured Elizabeth, who had been on the verge of flight, and she approached him, entering the circle of his arms. Darcy stood protectively over her while the parson rolled and struggled to his feet, bits of grass and leaves stuck to his black coat, coughing with the dust in his throat.
Knowing it would be some moments before he collected himself, Darcy fixed his attention on Elizabeth, noting at a glance that she was unharmed.
“Had I known you were to come so soon, I would not have left the house.”
Despite his rage and the events of the past moments, Darcy could not help the tight grin at this evidence of her resilience.
“Oh, I do not know, Elizabeth. Had I come in other circumstances, I might have taken great pleasure in discovering where you had gone, for losing ourselves on the paths of your father’s estate after our separation is a most appealing thought. ”
A gasp interrupted their reunion, even as Fitzwilliam entered the small clearing and approached Darcy to offer support. Darcy had no attention to spare for him, however, for his entire focus was on the rector.
“That is most improper! Have my cousin’s wild ways affected your judgment?”
“Elizabeth,” said Darcy, ignoring the man’s mewling, “who is this miserable person?”
“My father’s cousin and heir, Mr. Collins,” said Elizabeth, Darcy noting her glare on the man never diminished. “Until a moment before you appeared, I was not aware that he is also Lady Catherine’s parson.”
“Lady Catherine?” demanded Fitzwilliam, his harsh glare beating down on the unfortunate man. “You are Lady Catherine’s parson?”
The contemptuous glare Mr. Collins directed at Fitzwilliam informed Darcy that he had no idea who he was.
“I have the immense privilege of her ladyship’s patronage.
It was most fortunate in the current circumstance, for my connection to the Bennet family allowed her to act to protect her interests. ”
“And what interests might those be?” growled Fitzwilliam.
“I have no notion who you are, sir, but my business is with Cousin Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.” Mr. Collins turned away from Fitzwilliam. “Might I assume you are Mr. Darcy?”
“I am,” said Darcy. “And this is Colonel Anthony Fitzwilliam, the second son of the Earl of Matlock and Lady Catherine’s nephew.”
The sudden paleness of Mr. Collins’s face was most satisfying, for he regarded Fitzwilliam with something akin to terror.
Fitzwilliam’s glower did not decrease in the slightest, though when he caught Darcy’s eyes, he suspected their thoughts on the matter of Mr. Collins’s appearance and actions toward Elizabeth were aligned.
“I shall ask you again, Collins,” said Fitzwilliam, “what is your business with Miss Bennet?”
“Why, to prevent her from distracting Mr. Darcy from his duty. Lady Catherine must be obeyed, Mr. Darcy—you must put aside this business with my cousin and marry Miss de Bourgh as your aunt directs. As you are not at liberty to marry Cousin Elizabeth, I shall do so in your stead.”
The parson fixed Elizabeth with a contemptuous glare and added: “I will do so as my patroness has required it of me, but it will not be a pleasure. I must do much to alter her behavior enough to make it acceptable to a man of my situation.”
“This is the second time you have disparaged my betrothed,” snarled Darcy, stepping forward, flexing his fist and wishing to beat the man within an inch of his life. “If her name passes your lips again, I shall not be responsible for my actions.”
“But Mr. Darcy, you cannot!” cried Mr. Collins. “Your aunt’s instructions are inviolable; you must obey!”
“Lady Catherine is not my aunt!” roared Darcy. “She is nothing more than a meddling virago who has attempted to enforce her nonexistent authority on us. Not only have I been engaged to Elizabeth for more than a year, but Lady Catherine has no connection to me whatsoever.”
Mr. Collins appeared confused. “You are a Darcy, are you not?”
Unable to believe what he was hearing, Darcy pondered the man, wondering what he was about. Fitzwilliam stepped into the breach with information Darcy did not have but should have guessed.
“If you are considering his stupidity, you should know that Lady Catherine only surrounds herself with fools who will do what she says without question. I have never heard of one who would stoop to assaulting a gentlewoman on her command, but so far as I know, Lady Catherine has never descended to such depths of depravity.”
With a nod, Darcy turned his attention back to the parson. “Yes, Collins, I am a Darcy. Lady Catherine’s connection to the Darcy family stems from her sister’s marriage into the family line. My connection to the family precedes that connection by decades.”
Though surprised, Collins was not lost for words, more was the pity. “It matters not.”
“Yes, it does matter!” said Fitzwilliam. “Lady Catherine’s edicts, though she loves to issue them, do not carry any weight in the family, let alone to those unconnected to her.”
“Furthermore, I have thrown Lady Catherine from Pemberley and will never allow her to enter my properties again,” said Darcy before Collins could spout some other drivel. “If you so much as glance at Elizabeth again in a way I dislike, I will take it out on your hide.”
When Collins drew himself up to his full height, his erect stance doing nothing to hide his ample midsection, spindly legs, and balding pate, Darcy interrupted him.
“I will not discuss this further. Let it go, Collins; you will not prevail.”
“It is beyond my comprehension how you cannot see the benefits of doing Lady Catherine’s bidding. Does Miss de Bourgh not possess far more than my cousin can boast? Does my position as your aunt’s clergyman not offer any weight to my advice?”
“You may not be a clergyman for long, considering your behavior today,” growled Fitzwilliam. “Now, enough of this. It is time to return to the estate.”
“Mr. Bennet will take a dim view of your actions today, Collins,” added Darcy. “Elizabeth is his closest daughter. You had best prepare your effects for an immediate departure.”
Though Mr. Collins continued to jabber his protests, Darcy paid no more heed to him, instead turning to Elizabeth, cradling her hand in the crook of his arm, and leading her down the path to Longbourn.
Collins followed close behind, with Fitzwilliam following him, watching his every move, so Darcy did not concern himself with what the man might do.
The sooner they returned to Longbourn, the quicker Mr. Bennet would evict the man from his property.
HENRY BENNET COULD not call himself as diligent a man as Darcy.
Despite his daughters’ ineligibility to inherit the estate and Elizabeth’s upcoming marriage to Darcy, the family’s future was secure.
Bennet had done what he must on the estate and had saved early with his brother Gardiner’s help, such that even without Darcy’s support, the girls and their mother would have a comfortable situation should the worst happen.
The one consequence of the visit of his cousin was to clarify what sort of man he was.
Collins was, to be blunt, one of the most unimpressive specimens Bennet had ever met, and given he had known the man’s father, that was saying something.
Now that he knew what was in store for the estate in the future, Bennet was even less inclined to work to improve Collins’s situation.
He still did what he could to improve his wife’s position, but he saw little point in making any improvements on the property.
Perhaps that was not laudable, but Bennet could not deny how he felt.
When he learned of events that day, it would become even worse, though a surprising bit of information would alter his perspective.
The first Bennet heard of the approaching maelstrom was when he presumed Hill opened the front door to the estate.
Bennet might have ignored it, for his youngest daughters were not the quietest girls, but the sounds of deeper voices raised his interest. When he heard Darcy’s voice rise above the rest, he knew that something was amiss and departed his study at once to learn the reason for the tumult.
“I swear, Collins, if you say one more word, I will call you out, then carve you like a side of pork! Enough, I say!”
Darcy was enraged about something, and when Bennet reached the vestibule, he could see that his future son-in-law was not the only one.
Collins stood in the door facing the rest of the company, and behind him was a man Bennet did not know, while inside Darcy and Elizabeth stood with their backs to Bennet, facing his cousin.
Given the rhythmic flexing of Darcy’s fists, it seemed he was on the verge of flying at Collins to throttle him; as Bennet had felt like doing the same several times these past days, he could well understand.
Collins had angered Darcy by some means, and given his interest in Elizabeth and Bennet’s conversation with him, Bennet suspected he knew what it was.
“Easy, Son,” said Bennet, approaching to calm the situation. “What has put you in this state?”
“Your daughter has caused this!” exclaimed Collins. “If she would not reach so high, this may all be resolved! Mr. Darcy is to marry elsewhere by the decree of his aunt!”