One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy (17 page)

“You must promise not to say anything, Lizzy.” Jane dropped her voice and paused until Elizabeth reluctantly nodded. “He does wish to court me—as the carriage was being brought around the house, Mr. Bingley very suddenly took my hand in his own. It was very warm, and he was very gentle. He kissed the back of hand in a gentlemanlike way and asked if I would allow him permission ... to speak to my father ... about courting me.”

Elizabeth's eyes sparkled with delight. “Jane, that is wonderful! When is he to do it?”

“I daresay he would have done so today, but for our guest. He did not want to seem impolite with a newly arrived guest in the house. I believe he may come back tomorrow. He seemed most anxious to do it.” Jane sighed. “He is indeed all that a young man should be, and to be able to receive him at Longbourn as a suitor is like a dream.”

“Except that it is real—or soon will be!” Elizabeth exclaimed happily.

“So tell me—who is this Mr. Collins who has come?
 
All I know is his name and that he is to stay here for a visit. What is he like?” Jane asked curiously.

“Well, Jane, he is the sort of man who rather defies description.” Elizabeth hedged. “But he is, as I understand, my father's cousin, and the heir of Longbourn when Father dies.”

Jane gasped and then suppressed a giggle. “How is it that my mother is not running about calling him names and shrieking of being forced to live in the hedgerows? Does she not despair?”

“Well,” Elizabeth paused for effect, “he intends to make one of my father's daughters his wife, as a matter of duty. Mother's opinion of him was vastly improved upon hearing it.”

Jane's eyes grew large in shock. “What? I suppose it must be to his credit....”

“Oh, Jane, do not extend him credit until you have at least been introduced! You are altogether too generous with your opinion sometimes.” Elizabeth chided. “You are sure to meet him now, for the dinner hour is upon us. Fortunately for you, Mama has eliminated you from the competition for his attentions. Owing to her hopes in Mr. Bingley, you at least, are safe from Mr. Collins. If only I had a Mr. Bingley to offer me such an easy salvation!”

“He cannot be that bad, Lizzy.” Jane frowned.

“Let us go down to dinner, and you will see!” Elizabeth laughed. “You know how father and I delight in the ridiculous and absurd. Tonight, our dinner company will offer an abundance of both, you may count upon it, although I will take no enjoyment in it, with his expectations of matrimony hanging over us all like a great dark cloud!”

~*~

Seeing Mr. Collins enter the dining room, Elizabeth was struck with the realization that it was only his face that reminded her of a toad. His movement she thought was incredibly similar to that of a duck. This comparison was in large part due to an outward rotation of his legs that caused him to waddle slightly. She censured herself silently for being so critical of characteristics that Mr. Collins could not help. However, it was not long before his manners exposed sufficient oddity in his conduct that his appearance was rendered largely irrelevant.

Mr. Collins was, above all, a flatterer of self. If something deserved praise, he praised it relentlessly, embellishing on its virtues until he had exhausted the topic with a seemingly unending stream of declarations that he managed to turn, before he was finished, to allow him to bask in the glow of how well it all reflected on himself, a humble parson.

His speech initially focused on the charms of the Bennets and the fineness of their house, but he drifted quickly to better, familiar topics, which were obviously well rehearsed. His grand and beneficent patroness, the Right Honorable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, was clearly his favorite topic, for speaking of her granted him the opportunity to inject his own importance into the conversation, along with frequent mention of his large, comfortable rectory, garden and valuable living.

Mr. Bennet was pleased with his guest, for he had supposed, based on Mr. Collins' letters, that he would be a nonsensical man and Mr. Bennet relished the occasions where he was correct. He made the most of the entertainment through facial expressions and gestures aimed at Elizabeth throughout the dinner service. Elizabeth was grateful for her father's merriment, for it eased her discomfort in Mr. Collins' marked and awkward attentions to herself.

Mrs. Bennet was also pleased with him, for he was to marry one of her daughters. This meant that she was not to be thrown out of Longbourn upon Mr. Bennet's demise after all. Her memory conveniently erased her previous distain for the man, and she was, instead, enthralled with his generosity. His stated desire to atone for the sin of inheriting Longbourn through a marital alliance seemed to Mrs. Bennet the perfect, most gentlemanly solution to all of their problems.

After dinner, they took tea in the drawing room, and Mr. Collins pressed “Cousin Elizabeth” into a game of backgammon, which she consented to and soundly defeated her opponent. She then excused herself and retired to her bedchamber early rather than spend further time in company with Mr. Collins.

~*~

The next morning after breakfast, Mr. Collins requested that Elizabeth accompany him on a walk into Meryton. His purpose was two-fold, to engage her in conversation to further impress upon her his desirability and to establish that like herself, he was of a healthy constitution. His expectation was to remove themselves from the household so he could accomplish these ends in private. He rationalized to himself that there was no want of propriety in so doing, since he was both a relation and a parson and was, therefore. above reproach.

Elizabeth, after establishing that there was no hope of rain, politely agreed to the walk but swiftly enlisted all of her sisters to accompany them. Upon learning that they were not to be alone, Mr. Collins was mildly displeased but willing to make the most of the situation.

Lydia and Kitty raced ahead of them on the road, full of hope that they would encounter officers in town. Elizabeth used her sister's speed as an excuse to pace the walk briskly. She claimed a desire to catch up with her sisters, but she was equally motivated by it being a civil escape from Mr. Collins' pompous prattling. And so it was that they arrived on the outskirts of Meryton with Mr. Collins wheezing and panting for want of breath, thus foiling part of Mr. Collins' plan. This result suited Elizabeth very well, for he could not bore her in such a state.

Mr. Collins expressed a desire to enter the bookstore, for he felt there was a lack of serious reading material in the Bennet household and would not deign to select from among the works in Mr. Bennet's library. Mary concurred that the bookstore would be most pleasant, but Lydia spied Mr. Denny across the street and noted that there was a stranger with him. She demanded that the party go to make his acquaintance, since from a distance, the man appeared to be a gentlemanly, handsome figure—although the two younger Bennets gaily agreed he would be more so if he wore regimentals.

The party followed Lydia, for none of the ladies objected in the slightest to making the acquaintance of a handsome gentleman, although Elizabeth was ashamed of her sister's brazen approach. Mr. Collins expressed a desire to oblige the wishes of his dear cousins and make himself pleasant to them, so they all crossed the street to greet the Captain and his friend.

“Allow me to introduce my good friend, Mr. Wickham.” Mr. Denny addressed the group, as soon as they had reached him. “He has come back with me from London, and I am pleased to tell you that he has accepted a commission in the corps.”

Mr. Wickham smiled heartily at the sisters and greeted them warmly. His manner was so easy, so unassuming, that although he declared himself delighted and enchanted at the acquaintance, the feelings were even more so on the side of the ladies.

Elizabeth had never met a man so perfect in his address as Mr. Wickham. His countenance, too, was fine to look upon, his eyes merry, his bearing gentlemanly. His conversation was unspoiled by affectation, and he was, indeed, so charming that Elizabeth found herself entranced by the dashing officer. She felt the color rise to her cheeks when he spoke directly to her and was pleased when he shifted his position in the group to be nearer to her.

The sound of
 
horses' hooves caught her attention, and she looked down the road to see Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy approaching on horseback.

Mr. Darcy had seen and recognized the Bennet sisters before Mr. Bingley had. Mr. Bingley had spurred his horse to hasten the meeting, and as soon as he was near enough, he called a greeting.

“Miss Bennet! We were just on our way to Longbourn. How delightful to see you here instead! You are well?” Bingley began before Mr. Darcy was even near, for he had slowed his mount considerably.

Jane nodded and replied. “I am well. We have walked into Meryton today to visit our Aunt Phillips.”

A round of greetings and introductions ensued, whereby Mr. Collins was introduced as their cousin from Kent, just as Mr. Darcy reached the group. He bowed politely from his seat, and patiently waited as the introductions and civilities continued. He was not actually listening, for he saw no need to further the acquaintance with any of the party before him.

Mr. Darcy had but two objectives. The first was to not even look at Elizabeth. In light of his self-revelations of the night before, he was determined that he would not lose his composure and thereby give himself away. The second task was easier, for it was simply to take the measure of Mr. Collins, his Aunt Catherine's new parson.

Elizabeth, however, held no compunction to looking directly at Mr. Darcy, thinking his manners ill indeed, for his greeting was barely civil while Mr. Bingley was all warmth and affability. It was while she was looking thus at him that Mr. Darcy noticed the man standing next to Elizabeth Bennet.

What she witnessed next was a scene so astonishing that she could not interpret it, for when the two men's eyes met, Mr. Wickham's face turned an ashen white, and Mr. Darcy's, a brilliant shade of red. Mr. Wickham managed to tip his hat and nod his head to Mr. Darcy, but Mr. Darcy was as a statue, not moving or, it seemed, even breathing. He sat upon his horse staring at Mr. Wickham for a long, suspended moment that only the three of them seemed aware of. Mr. Wickham returned the stare, with a smirk on his face as he fidgeted uncomfortably. Finally, Mr. Darcy spoke.

“Mr. Wickham.” Darcy's voice was even. “It has been several months now since I last saw you—at Ramsgate.”

“Indeed it has,” agreed Wickham, relaxing a little.

“And now you have joined yourself with the Hertfordshire militia.” Mr. Darcy observed coldly. “I wonder that you did not enlist in the Regular Army to avail yourself of the chance to rout that invading rascal Napoleon.”

“That would indeed have been the superior course, but alas, I could not afford the commission.
 
I must of necessity earn my commission in the Regulars first, but then I shall personally chase him down.” Wickham replied.

“And what is to be done with him when you have him cornered? Tell me, how does one deal with a blackguard and scoundrel?” Mr. Darcy's eyes narrowed and his voice deepened as he spoke. “Will his evils be published that all may know them? Should he then be executed? Exiled? Consigned to hard labor? What is a sufficient punishment for such a man?”

The tense exchange between Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy had silenced the rest of the party, and all eyes were now upon Mr. Wickham, who appeared stricken and unable to speak.

Mr. Darcy continued pleasantly, “My counsel to you, Wickham, would be not to neglect your swordsmanship. You never know when you shall be called out.”

At this, Mr. Darcy looked directly at Elizabeth, and his features contorted with a pained expression before he turned his horse and galloped away.

Mr. Bingley excused himself and followed Mr. Darcy.

“Well, now, that was a delightful interlude.” Mr. Wickham laughed as soon as they were gone. “If Mr. Darcy is so set against Napoleon, perhaps he should enter the corps himself.”

“That was very strange indeed!” Lydia giggled. “If anyone is going to rout Napoleon, it is going to be Denny!”

The gentlemen, excepting Mr. Collins all laughed, and escorted the ladies to Aunt Phillips house, where Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham begged to leave the party, for they had pressing business to attend.

Mr. Collins found an eager ear with Mrs. Phillips, for she was honored that the parson of such a great lady had come to her home, and took great delight in Mr. Collins' compliments. She discovered that he was a skilled apologizer as well after he spent a quarter of an hour groveling for forgiveness after an inadvertently thoughtless comment was taken as a slight.

~*~

“Darcy, what were you going on about?” Mr. Bingley challenged his friend once they were back in the drawing room at Netherfield. “Who was that fellow?”