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Authors: Lory Lilian

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***

Elizabeth waited for Miss Darcy’s letter with a good deal of eagerness, though she knew she should not expect special news. However, the first letter she received was from Charlotte, who found many things to relate about her peaceful happiness in Kent and all the satisfactory arrangements, including Lady Catherine’s kindness. Elizabeth read it in a hurry and put it down; she loved Charlotte dearly, but she could not bear the details about a pretended happy marriage with Mr. Collins. It was simply too much.

Charlotte continued to insist that she should visit them in Kent, but Elizabeth was sceptical about accepting such an invitation. She felt a sort of curiosity, which she admitted to be highly improper, regarding Miss Anne de Bourgh, but it was not enough for her to make such a long visit to Rosings.

Two days later, the letter from Georgiana arrived with another letter for Mr. Bennet from Mr. Darcy himself. After she read Georgiana’s letter several times, a servant asked her to the library. To her surprise, her father invited her to enter and handed her a piece of paper.

“This is for you, Lizzy. It is a short note from Mr. Darcy. He put it inside my letter, opened, so I could see its contents. Very considerate of him, do you not think?”

She felt her cheeks flaming, and her lips suddenly became dry; she could not think properly of all the implications of such a gesture. He wrote to her and asked her father’s permission to do so? Did he realise what that could mean?

“Thank you, Papa, I shall go to my room,” she said hastily, and her father smiled as he turned the page of his book.

Once inside her chamber, Elizabeth lay on the bed as she ran her eyes over the letter. She laughed nervously, remembering Miss Bingley’s comment about the evenness of his writing.

Miss Bennet,
Thank you for your considerate message. I am pleased to know your journey went as well as I hoped.
I am also pleased that Mr. Bennet enjoys the books, but as I informed him personally, there is no reason to hurry—he may keep the books as long as he wishes. I trust he will take as good care of them as I would. I shall look forward to sharing opinions with Mr. Bennet regarding this subject some time very soon.
I shall give to my sister the pleasure of filling her letter with all the details of our last days in London. I am sure she will tell you that it snowed again and that she deeply regrets she missed the opportunity to skate with you, as I am sure she will tell you that your presence is already missed—as she has told me more than once.
I shall only add my best regards, and please allow me to repeat that there is no reason to thank me for doing something I did most willingly.
Fitzwilliam Darcy

She read the letter repeatedly, her heart beating more wildly each time. There could be no misunderstanding: he told her he would come to Hertfordshire soon, and he let her know he still remembered they did not go skating together as had been planned right after the ball and just before their argument. And he told her she was missed! Yes, he did! He dared to do so with the risk of being noticed by her father. And he declared once more that everything he did for her father was most willingly done.

She threw herself on the bed, the letter to her chest, and closed her eyes. No, there was no misunderstanding!

The next weeks passed slowly with lots of snow, visits from Mr. Bingley, and hopes of a marriage proposal from him.

Mr. Wickham rarely visited. She saw him only three times in more than five weeks. He was as polite and friendly as ever but more restrained. The news was spread in the neighbourhood of his interest in Miss Mary King, a pleasant young lady with a dowry of ten thousand pounds. Elizabeth felt equally relieved for her tranquillity and worried for Miss King, hoping her family would protect her from any imprudent alliance.

Mr. Bingley’s sisters did not return to Netherfield by the end of February, nor did his friend. Despite Elizabeth’s hopes, Mr. Darcy remained in London with his sister.

Elizabeth knew he maintained a regular correspondence with her father; also, she and Georgiana wrote to each other at least once a week, and each letter received from Miss Darcy contained some reference to her brother, which Elizabeth was pleased to read. He did not write another letter to her personally, but more than once Mr. Bennet told her that Mr. Darcy commented about something concerning her.

Overwhelmed by Charlotte’s insistence and disappointed in herself for her fruitless waiting amid daily hopes and speculations, Elizabeth decided to visit Kent for two weeks. Surely, it would be a pleasant change from her own thoughts, and she could not forego the chance finally to meet Lady Catherine and admire the windows of Rosings.

She told Georgiana of her intention to accept Charlotte’s invitation, and she was highly amused by Georgiana’s reluctance to express an opinion. She began the journey the last week of March, together with Sir William and Maria Lucas, with her spirits in a high state that was difficult to understand. When they arrived at the parsonage, Elizabeth realised how much she missed her dear friend and how little marriage had changed the parson’s manners.

Mr. Collins welcomed them with the liveliest pleasure and ostentatious formality to his ‘humble abode,’ and punctually repeated all his wife’s offers of refreshment.

The first evening was spent chiefly in talking about Hertfordshire and making plans for their stay in Kent. More than once, Mr. Collins expressed his hope that they would be invited to dine at Rosings at least once and that they would be overwhelmed by Lady Catherine’s kindness and generosity. In the solitude of her room that evening, Elizabeth meditated upon Charlotte’s degree of contentment and the meaning of happiness in marriage.

Just before sleep took her, she briefly wondered when Mr. Darcy last visited Rosings.

As Mr. Collins anticipated and prayed for, an invitation for dinner at Rosings arrived the next day, and his triumph could not be quelled.

He repeatedly assured Elizabeth that she had no reason to feel unease for her modest gowns, and then he pointed out that Lady Catherine was very strict regarding punctuality; finally, he made sure that everybody was aware of the import of such an invitation and that it was all due to Lady Catherine’s favourable opinion of him.

The moment they entered, both Sir William and Maria were awed by the grandeur surrounding them. They both turned silent by the time they were introduced in the enormous room where Lady Catherine, her daughter, and Mrs. Jenkinson, the companion, awaited them.

Lady Catherine was a tall, large woman with strongly marked features, which might once have been handsome. Her air was not conciliatory, nor was her manner of receiving them such as to make her visitors forget their inferior rank. Whatever she said was spoken in so authoritative a tone as marked her self-importance.

Miss Anne de Bourgh was quite the opposite: thin, sickly, and pale, obviously intimidated, and glancing around as if frightened. She spoke little except in a low voice to Mrs. Jenkinson. There was neither in figure nor face any likeness between Lady Catherine and her daughter.

The dinner was exceedingly handsome, and it mirrored precisely everything that Mr. Collins promised in terms of servants, plates, and dishes.

During and after the dinner, there was little to do but listen to Lady Catherine. She addressed a variety of questions to Maria and Elizabeth but especially to the latter.

Once her curiosity was satisfied on the subject of the Bennet family, Lady Catherine seemed unwilling to speak much with Elizabeth. She demanded everybody play cards, and the rest of the time passed in such a way. From time to time, Elizabeth could feel her ladyship’s insistent stare upon her, but she bore it reasonably well. With great amusement, Elizabeth could not help imagining what would have happened had she accepted Mr. Darcy’s marriage proposal two months earlier and been presented to Lady Catherine as her future niece. Now that would have been a memorable moment, indeed!

At the end of the evening, Mr. Collins spared no effort to thank and praise Lady Catherine until the moment they left the house.

The next morning, Elizabeth woke early and, as the house was still silent, took the chance to escape for a quick walk in her surroundings. She allowed herself to be distracted by the beauty of the estate in the early spring until the parsonage remained far behind.

The sound of galloping hooves made her turn; she watched as a dark horse approached across the field, and before her eyes could trust their recognition of the horseman, her quickly drumming heartbeat disclosed his identity. She stopped, her hand seeking support against a tree. Mr. Darcy dismounted and bowed politely, his eyes capturing her amazed expression.

“Miss Bennet! What a wonderful surprise to find you here at this early hour.”

Elizabeth stared at him, unable to credit his unexpected appearance. He was there, standing in front of her, smiling tentatively, his expression more delighted than surprised. How did it happen that he was there? Could a more surprising coincidence exist?

“I hope I did not frighten you?”

“No, not really, it is just that…I did not expect to see you in Kent, sir. We arrived only yesterday and—”

“Yes, I know.” He hesitated a moment, then the smile spread over his face as he confessed.

“Georgiana informed me of your trip to Kent. Robert and I usually visit Aunt Catherine every year before Easter; I thought the timing could not be better. We shall stay for a fortnight.”

Her face was crimson, and her heart nearly stopped for a moment.
What did he just say? He purposely set his visit to find me here and confessed it with such easiness? What should I answer to such a statement?

“It is ideal timing, indeed,” she heard herself saying, and his smile opened even more. She said it; there was nothing to be done now. He was being honest, and so was she.

“How is Georgiana?” she whispered.

“Very well, thank you. She missed your company very much, as you must already know.”

“I…I missed her company, too. Is she here by any chance?”

“No…only the colonel, and he is anxious to meet you again. We planned to call at the parsonage later. It is such a wonderful surprise to meet you here so early,” he repeated, and she laughed against the sudden lump in her throat.

“We shall be happy to receive you at the parsonage. I am sure Charlotte will be pleased to see you…and Mr. Collins, too. But I should return now; it will soon be time for breakfast.”

“May I keep you company on your way back?”

“Certainly…thank you. How is Lord Matlock? And all your London family?”

“They are all well. I see the earl and Lord Brightmore quite often, but Selina and Lady Brightmore not so much. I understand they keep a close acquaintance with Mrs. Gardiner. Unfortunately, I did not have much time to visit Mrs. Gardiner after…after you left town. I called on her with Lord Matlock twice but…”

“I am sure my aunt understands the demanding responsibilities to which you must attend. Rare visits might be more valuable if they are sincere.”

As they walked together, Elizabeth struggled to keep her eyes from him, not an easy task as she could feel his insistent gaze on her face. The horse stepped obediently behind them, following his master. Darcy offered her his arm. She took it reluctantly.

“My father is well,” she said suddenly, and her voice sounded silly to herself.

“I know…but thank you for telling me, nevertheless. I have the pleasure of a regular correspondence with Mr. Bennet. A couple of days ago, he told me he has finished the books I loaned him, and I understand you showed interest in some of them as well.”

She blushed again and raised her eyes to meet his.

“I did. But do not worry; I shall be extremely careful with them.”

“I am not worried in the slightest. I am only trying to find a proper occasion to bring Mr. Bennet additional books…” He spoke lightly and warmly; her mind remained trapped by the hidden meaning of his words, and she could not meet his eyes.

The way back to the parsonage seemed shorter than she remembered. They took their farewell with the expectation of seeing each other again soon. Elizabeth entered the house and ran to her chamber, still incredulous about what had happened. Mr. Darcy was in Kent!

Elizabeth kept the secret of her morning meeting, but after breakfast, as soon as Mr. Collins returned from his daily visit at Rosings, his manic gestures and breathless voice brought the extraordinary news of Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam’s arrival at Rosings and their declared intention of calling on them.

“I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy never would have come so soon to wait upon me,” Charlotte said.

Despite their previous conversations upon that subject, Elizabeth said nothing to contradict her, and Mrs. Collins’s surprise was apparent.

The gentlemen—Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam—arrived at the parsonage within half an hour of Mr. Collins’s announcement.

Colonel Fitzwilliam greeted his hosts properly then expressed his delight in seeing Elizabeth again. Mr. Darcy paid his compliments with his usual politeness and congratulated Mr. Collins for his house and garden. With Elizabeth, he had every appearance of composure, and only his gazes resting on her face and a small smile in the corner of his lips betrayed his feelings. After a brief moment of silence, he found a chair a little apart from the others.

BOOK: His Uncle's Favorite
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