Page 12 of What Comes Between Cousins

N O ONE COULD HAVE BEEN more astonished at Mr. Darcy’s application than Elizabeth was herself. Though she had noticed that Mr. Darcy had become comfortable speaking with her, she had not had any notion of any partiality from the gentleman.

Silly goose! Elizabeth berated herself. Just because a man asks for a dance, does not make him in love with you!

For an instant, Elizabeth imagined what it would be like to be the object of such exquisite feelings from such a man as Mr. Darcy. Then she pushed those feelings to the side and focused on the man who was, after all, waiting for her response. But she could not suppress the thought that having a handsome man like Mr. Darcy make love to her would be very pleasant, indeed.

“Of course, Mr. Darcy,” replied she at length. “I would be happy to dance those sets with you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth jumped a little when her mother appeared at her side, seemingly moving from one space to the next in the blink of an eye. But though Elizabeth might have expected her to be silly with excitement, Mrs. Bennet managed a credible level of restraint. “You and Mr. Bingley do us much honor in bestowing your kindness on my girls.”

Mr. Darcy appeared no less surprised at Mrs. Bennet’s manners, but he was every inch the gentleman. He bowed and smiled, saying: “I believe, Mrs. Bennet, that you have every reason to be proud of your daughters. They are some of the brightest ladies I have ever met. I am anticipating dancing with Miss Elizabeth keenly.”

They had attracted much scrutiny by that time, and Elizabeth looked about, hoping her sisters would not display a lack of sense and exclaim over Elizabeth’s good fortune. But whereas Lydia and Kitty were obviously amused at the scene, they did naught but whisper and giggle between themselves, while Mary only gave Elizabeth a soft smile.

It was the gentleman who stood near her youngest sisters who caught Elizabeth’s attention, for she noted the look of utter surprise and stupefaction on Lord Chesterfield’s face. Then she noted when his attention turned on his cousin. In fact, Elizabeth was put out a little because of the suspicious way he regarded Mr. Darcy, and Elizabeth wondered the reason for it. He had never shown himself to be a proud man—could she have been mistaken?

Then her attention was caught by Mr. Collins and his inanities. Whereas the viscount’s feelings on the matter were complex beyond Elizabeth’s ability to understand, Mr. Collins’s were not. When he whirled and approached them at a quick pace, Elizabeth took a step back, certain he had some physical response in mind.

“Mr. Darcy!” exclaimed he. Anyone with any sense at all could hear the consternation in his tone. “You are too kind to honor my cousin in such a manner. But I beg you to reconsider, sir. Do you not think dancing the first with her will make a statement which you cannot possibly mean to make?”

“There is nothing anyone could misunderstand,” replied Mr. Darcy, the haughty mask Elizabeth had not seen since the first night of their acquaintance covering his countenance like a veil. Then Mr. Darcy looked at her, and his entire manner softened. And Elizabeth felt herself melt in response to this new suggestion of regard.

“But the first dance, sir! Surely dancing the third or fourth with my cousin would be more appropriate. I offer myself as a substitute should you choose to reconsider.”

Mr. Collins’s tone suggested that he was certain Mr. Darcy would reconsider. Elizabeth, by now completely exasperated with the parson’s inanities had a retort poised at the tip of her tongue when Mr. Darcy answered first.

“It is the height of rudeness to withdraw once a request has been made. Dancing with Miss Elizabeth makes no more or less of a statement than I wish to make.”

What an ambiguous answer! thought Elizabeth, though she supposed he truly could not say anything more clear. Mr. Collins, however, treated it as if Mr. Darcy had made a declaration of everlasting love for Elizabeth.

“Surely you must reconsider! What would Lady Catherine think? What would Miss Anne de Bourgh, that fair flower, even now pining for you in Kent, think of your attention to another woman?”

“Mr. Collins!” barked Mr. Darcy. The parson positively jumped at the sound of his harsh voice. “I would ask you to refrain from speaking of things of which you have no knowledge. My aunt has nothing to do with a simple request for a dance with a young lady. Do not forget yourself, sir.”

Then Mr. Darcy turned away and deliberately ignored the parson, thanking Elizabeth for accepting his request. A few moments later, the Netherfield company departed. But before they left, Mr. Darcy approached Mr. Collins and hissed a few words in his ear. Whatever they were, Mr. Collins’s countenance paled, and he darted a glance at Elizabeth. Then Mr. Darcy was gone.

“I do not know how we can tolerate your presence much longer, Mr. Collins,” said Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth had forgotten that her mother was close by when she was accosted by Mr. Collins. “Perhaps it would be best for you to spend the afternoon in your bedchamber studying the Bible. It seems to me you could benefit from the wisdom the holy book would impart. At the very least, you would be out of our hair.”

Mr. Collins was clearly offended by Mrs. Bennet’s words, but she did not pay him any heed. In the end, though he shot an aggrieved glance at Elizabeth, he stalked from the room and was not seen again until supper. Elizabeth was certain she had not heard the end from him. Mr. Collins clearly had no ability to stay silent and clearly held a determination to forward his mistress’s interests regardless of how many times Mr. Darcy berated him.

––––––––

“W HAT WAS THE MEANING of that display, Cousin?”

Darcy, who had retreated to Netherfield’s library—a pitiful collection of uninteresting tomes, completely undeserving of the appellation—started in surprise and looked up. Fitzwilliam stood just inside the door, looking at him, his expression accusing. Though Darcy had seen his cousin’s reaction to his request for Miss Elizabeth’s hand for the first two dances at Bingley’s ball, he had been engaged in much more agreeable thoughts during the journey back to Netherfield. And as the topic of discussion was dominated by Bingley’s raptures of Miss Bennet, Darcy had been at liberty to consider her younger sister.

It was strange that Miss Elizabeth was affecting him so much when one considered how many others had tried—and failed—to make an impression. And she had done it with so little effort! Darcy was certain she was genuine, nothing hidden and nothing feigned. She was a ray of sunshine, one which Darcy could now confess intrigued him. Yes, indeed—he was far more partial to the dark, mysterious sister than the light, demure one.

“Well, Cousin?” Fitzwilliam’s voice interrupted his musings, bringing Darcy’s mind back to the present. “Will you answer my question?”

“To what display are you referring?” asked Darcy. Though he knew well to what his cousin referred, he was not about to answer such a query phrased in such a way. Fitzwilliam’s tone suggested he had not acted properly.

“The matter of Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” said Fitzwilliam from between clenched teeth. “You, who have yet to be moved by any woman, ask a young country miss of little consequence in the world for the first dance at a ball? I do not believe you have danced the first with any woman since your first season!”

“You are correct about that,” replied Darcy. His thoughts were once again sliding to his contemplation of Miss Elizabeth, and he was forced to turn them back to his cousin, who was now grinding his teeth in frustration. “It was something of an impulse of the moment.”

Fitzwilliam regarded him with open suspicion. “You never do anything by impulse, Darcy. You always think any matter over, deliberating all angles before coming to a decision.”

A chuckle escaped Darcy’s lips. Yes, his cousin knew him well, indeed. “I cannot deny that.

“But in this instance, that is exactly what happened. I felt a . . .” Darcy paused, struggling to find the words to explain what was happening to him. He was grateful to his cousin for giving him the chance to think, though Fitzwilliam was obviously still angry. “I do not know what prompted me to make the request I did. But I have come to consider Miss Elizabeth as one of the most estimable ladies of my acquaintance, and the feeling has only grown the longer we have been in Hertfordshire.”

“That is tantamount to a ringing endorsement from you , Darcy. But I still do not understand what you mean by it.”

“What I mean by it?” asked Darcy with amazement. “Am I to understand that you agree with the estimable Mr. Collins? Am I declaring my intentions openly by asking Miss Elizabeth for a dance?”

“Do not compare me to that simpleton,” growled Fitzwilliam. “I know you are aware of his designs. My concerns regarding the matter are much different from that buffoon’s.”

“Then perhaps you should state them directly,” said Darcy, beginning to feel vexed by his cousin’s manner. “Or would you have me continue to guess your meaning?”

“Just answer the question, Darcy,” said Fitzwilliam.

Darcy was astonished. His cousin was behaving in a manner which he had never seen before. Since they were young boys, they had been the closest of companions. He could not remember the last time they were seriously at odds. He could not account for Fitzwilliam’s behavior.

In the end, however, he decided it was best to simply oblige his cousin. “The fact is that I have no ready answer to give you, Fitzwilliam. I do not intend to be glib. But when I said that I asked Miss Elizabeth for the dances on impulse, I was merely stating the truth.

“If you are asking what my intentions are toward Miss Elizabeth, I am afraid I cannot answer at present.” Fitzwilliam’s countenance darkened, but Darcy ignored him and continued to speak. “What I do know is that she is an estimable lady, one who would be a blessing to any man who was fortunate enough to win her favor. But at this time, I stress I do not know her well enough to know the extent of my intentions. I am, however, anticipating coming to know her better.”

If anything, his cousin’s countenance became even more forbidding. “I am surprised at you, Darcy. Not only would I have never thought it likely that you would favor a woman in such a situation, but I am shocked you would interfere in this manner.”

“I am sorry, Fitzwilliam, but I have not the pleasure of understanding you.” Darcy stood and glared at his cousin, wondering where the jovial man he had always known had gone. “Are you accusing me of playing with Miss Elizabeth’s affections?”

“Of course not!” snapped his cousin.

“Then say what you mean!”

They stared at each other for a few moments, and it was ultimately Fitzwilliam who broke the impasse. “Then you shall have it. I wonder why you would seek the hand of the woman to whom I have been paying attention these past weeks.”

“The woman to whom you have paid attention?” asked Darcy, nonplussed. “Of what are you talking?”

“Come now, Darcy, I know you are not obtuse. You are very observant. Surely you have seen my preference for Miss Elizabeth.”

“I assure you I have seen no such thing. Since we have come to Hertfordshire, it seems to me you have dispensed your civility to all and sundry, as is your usual habit. I have seen no particular notice given to Miss Elizabeth.”

“Then you have been blind,” snarled Fitzwilliam. “I have, in fact, showed her far more interest than any other woman I have ever met. I can hardly believe you have not noticed this.”

“Well, then you have played my part to perfection, Cousin.” If this conversation had not been so tense, he might have almost found it amusing. “I have had no notion of any interest on your part. Nor, I might add, has Miss Elizabeth seen anything of it.”

“Well, I have. I suppose I shall have to be more overt.”

“You may, of course, do as you wish.”

Fitzwilliam’s eyes narrowed. “It would be best if you stepped back, Darcy.”

“You have my apologies, Cousin, but I shall not. If you will pardon my saying, I was not aware you were courting her. As I am certain you are not, I find my path is clear before me.”

Then Darcy stepped past his cousin and departed the room. He almost expected Fitzwilliam to chase after him to continue their argument, but the door closed behind him and did not open again.

It was beyond belief, this argument they had just had! Rarely had they been in conflict with each other, so close had their relationship been. That Fitzwilliam would demand— demand! —that he step aside showed a haughtiness Darcy had never seen from his cousin. He would not have thought Fitzwilliam, of all people, would be affected by such feelings.

––––––––

“O H, HOW I HATE ELIZA Bennet!”

Once again, the calm of Louisa Hurst’s chambers was rent by the entrance of her ranting sister. Louisa, who had enjoyed the past days since the sisters had left Netherfield, and especially Caroline’s good mood, could only shake her head in dismay. She wondered why Caroline did not abandon hope of Louisa’s support in her schemes. Louisa had never given her any reason to hope—but she stubbornly insisted on bringing her petty concerns and plots to Louisa.

“What is it now, Caroline?” asked Louisa in a tone of longsuffering. It was lost on Caroline, however—she paced and muttered and threw her hands in the air, ranting like a madwoman.

“She is drawing both Mr. Darcy and Lord Chesterfield in by her flirtatious and impertinent manners.”

“I am sure she is doing no such thing.”

“Then you are wrong.” Caroline spun and turned on Louisa, and for a moment Louisa wondered if her sister meant to attack her physically. “I just overheard a conversation between Lord Chesterfield and Mr. Darcy which confirms it!”

“Oh, Caroline,” said Louisa. “Tell me you did not eavesdrop on a private conversation between gentlemen.”

“Of course, I did,” snapped Caroline. “How else am I to discover what happened at Longbourn? I was only just able to escape detection when Mr. Darcy left the room.” Caroline’s snarl deepened. “Oh, how I wish Charles had not chosen this backwater county to lease an estate! How could he possibly do this to me? I cannot believe he was so stupid as to ask Miss Bennet for the first dances at his stupid ball. I am sure he is considering throwing everything for which we have struggled away on that chit!”

“Miss Bennet is a good woman, Caroline. Should Charles marry her, she would be the making of him.”

“But that is not the worst of it!” exclaimed Caroline, completely ignoring—or likely not even hearing—Louisa’s reply. “Mr. Darcy asked Eliza for her first dance at the ball.”

“He did?” asked Louisa with some interest. Perhaps Hurst was correct about Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth.

“Yes! And while I may rejoice in the fact that she is attracting Mr. Darcy, leaving Lord Chesterfield for me, the viscount man is also interested in her. I swear they are like dogs in heat, fighting over the bitch of the pack!”

“Caroline!” scolded Louisa. “Do not use such language.”

“It is no less than the truth!” snapped Caroline.

At length she gave way, sensing that Louisa was not about to be denied in this instance. Instead, Caroline threw herself on a nearby sofa and sat in silence for some time, brooding. Louisa watched her sister, disgust staining her mind, and not for the first time. Her sister was approaching the point of being ungovernable, and Louisa had never possessed the temperament necessary to make her obey or affect her improvement. Perhaps it was time to consider sending her away to their aunt. Miss Amelia Bingley was a no-nonsense woman, and if anyone could improve Caroline’s behavior, it was their aunt.

“Mr. Darcy and Lord Chesterfield exchanged angry words, you know.” The words, when they came, were contemplative, Caroline’s rage of a few moments before completely forgotten.

“That is strange,” said Louisa with a frown. “I have never seen so much as a cross word pass between them.”

“I know,” replied Caroline. “It is that which gives me some hope that this situation might be salvaged.”

Louisa regarded her sister, suspicious of Caroline’s meaning. “Oh?” was all she said, hoping to prompt Caroline to be more explicit. Caroline, of course, obliged readily.

“With the cousins at odds and Mr. Darcy focusing on Eliza, it is possible I can use that to ensure Lord Chesterfield turns to me. If he thinks that Eliza has betrayed him with his cousin, it will make him that much easier to influence.”

“Oh, Caroline,” said Louisa, shaking her head, a wave of sadness passing over her. “I do not know by what convoluted reasoning you think that a schism between cousins would cause his lordship to turn to you.”

“Because I will be his sympathetic ear,” said Caroline, her manner still distracted. “And if I can fan the flames of his disgust for her, I improve my position as the only other eligible female in his current sphere.” Caroline made a disgusted noise at the back of her throat. “To think of Eliza Bennet as an ‘eligible female’ is more than I can bear. But I will use Mr. Darcy’s attraction for her to my benefit.

“There is still the matter of Charles,” continued she. “We cannot allow him, of course, to continue with his fascination for Jane Bennet. Though my marriage to a viscount would be a step up for our family, Charles would merely pull our name down again should he marry such an unsuitable woman.”

This time Louisa decided against disagreeing with her sister openly. None of the other times she had done it had Caroline so much as heard her, so it was fruitless.

“I must make plans,” muttered Caroline, standing and moving from the room without even a glance back.

Louisa watched her go, grateful when the door closed behind her. Caroline was becoming a serious problem, and Louisa did not know what to do to mitigate the damage she might potentially do to their reputation. Perhaps she should speak further with Hurst.