Alone with Mr. Darcy: A Pride & Prejudice Variation (15 page)

The Longbourn manservant who responded to
his arrival was badly in need of training, judging from his shocked expression
when he recognized Darcy. Not that he expected better from the staff at
Longbourn; it was hardly a well-run household.  Darcy handed him his card
with a curt instruction to give it to Mr. Bennet.

Waiting inside the small entrance hall, he
winced at the shrill voice of Mrs. Bennet echoing from the sitting room. She
was one more thing he would prefer to avoid. He stayed as close to the door as
possible. Where was that servant? He tapped his foot on the scuffed tile floor.

Finally he was shown into Mr. Bennet’s
library, a small room which would have been pleasing enough were it not for the
piles of books left strewn about. At Pemberley, books were returned to the
shelves when not in use.

Mr. Bennet slowly rose to his feet. “Mr.
Darcy,” he said mildly. “This is quite a surprise.”

“I cannot imagine why, unless your
daughter thought word of her situation would not reach London.”

“Has she contacted you, then? I cannot
imagine your usual circles have the least interest in the events in Meryton.”

“I have heard nothing from her.” He
certainly was not going to explain why he had sent Stanton to Meryton. “If you
forbade her from contacting me, she has been obedient to your wishes.”

A dry smile twisted Mr. Bennet’s lips. “I
saw no reason to forbid her anything. It would have made no difference, and it
was rather too late to begin.”

“If you are insinuating something, pray be
more direct.”

“My Lizzy can put on a polite mask, but
she is not talented at disguise. I cannot claim to know what happened between
the two of you during those three days, but I do know she was
not
telling me the truth when she said
nothing
had happened.”

Darcy folded his hands behind his back
where he would not be tempted to use them. “I suggested marriage at the time,
but she demurred, believing a scandal could be avoided. I asked her to contact
me should any difficulties arise. Since she has not done so, it falls to me to
find her and take the necessary steps to protect her reputation. This would be
much simpler if I knew where she was, and I had hoped you would be able to
assist me with that.”

Mr. Bennet placed his hands on the desk in
front of him, then slowly lowered himself into his chair. “Do you mean to say
you
proposed
to Lizzy?”

Darcy stared at him. “Of course I did.
What gentleman would not?” Suddenly Mr. Bennet’s attitude made sense. In the
absence of that knowledge, it was perfectly natural he would be hostile. “I
assumed you were aware of that. Perhaps you thought my purpose today was to ask
your permission to marry your daughter, which I will do if you wish, though it
strikes me as a mere formality under the circumstances. None of us have a
choice in the matter.”

The older man pushed up his spectacles.
“Apparently Lizzy believes
she
has a choice.”

“If you will be so kind as to tell me
where I may find her, perhaps we can resolve this matter.”

Mr. Bennet gazed at him for a minute, then
inexplicably smiled. “If, as you say, you proposed to her, and if, again as you
say, you told her to contact you if there were difficulties, then I can only
conclude Lizzy has made a decision she does not wish to marry you. I will
respect her decision, so under the circumstances I feel unable to share her
whereabouts with you.”

“I believe there may be a
misunderstanding. I do not believe Miss Elizabeth is opposed to the idea.”

“You may believe what you like if it gives
you comfort, but it will not change reality.”

Good God, what was wrong with the man?
Darcy could barely keep his voice even as he said, “If you prefer your entire
family to suffer the effects of this ‘decision,’ there is nothing I can do to
dissuade you. Should either you or she think better of it, I can be reached at
my London address. Good day, Mr. Bennet.” He stalked out of Longbourn and rode
off before he gave into the temptation to say a great deal more.

***

Darcy flipped the unopened letter back and
forth between his hands, wishing he could consign it to the flames unread.
First Mr. Bennet’s insults, and now he had to deal with this. Grimly he slipped
his thumb under the seal and snapped it open.

Dear Mr. Darcy,

I have, as instructed, gathered
information on Mrs. Dawley, previously Mrs. Darcy. She appears to be respected
in her neighborhood. She and her husband are fond of society and entertain
frequently. She has two sons under the age of four. Her husband is a portly
fellow, who is considered most amiable and is well liked. The only criticisms I
heard leveled at Mrs. Dawley were that she was occasionally frivolous and
should not dress in green so often as it does not flatter her complexion. She
is accounted a good mother to her boys. The servants have no unusual complaints
about her or Mr. Dawley, and generally believe they are reasonable masters. The
Dawleys travel to Manchester or London on occasion, but own no house in town
and so spend most of their time on their estate.

There have been no suggestions of
impropriety about Mrs. Dawley’s behavior. Her previous marriage seems to be
generally known, along with the fact she lived separately from her husband.
Among those who knew her at the time, she seemed well pleased with her
situation, with no evidence of missing her husband, only the daughter she had
left behind. At first it was assumed her husband had sent her away for
infidelity, but as she showed little interest in flirtations, most of the local
people now assume she must have interfered with her husband’s pleasures too
often. Although Mr. Dawley had shown interest in her for some years, she did
not permit him to call upon her until her husband’s death. She did not observe
a mourning period for him.

I will be back in London on Thursday
and can give you a full report at that time.

Yours, &c.,

W. Stanton

Darcy did not know what he had expected,
but it had not been this. A country squire’s wife, fond of society, somewhat
frivolous, but generally respected and well-liked? It did not sound anything
like the moody woman he recalled from the last time he had seen her. Could
Stanton possibly have found the wrong woman? No, he had been given the name and
direction, and the story of her first husband was consistent. Perhaps he had
not dug deeply enough.

In the over-gilded sitting room in Rosings
Park, Richard Fitzwilliam stretched out his legs. “What of our cousin, Anne? I
hope her absence does not indicate ill health.”

Thank heaven for Richard! Darcy would not
make it through two days with Lady Catherine without Richard’s ability to speak
calmly to her. Especially in her sitting room, where the painfully vivid
turquoise wallpaper made his eyes ache.

“Anne’s health is much improved. Darcy,
you will be quite pleased when you see her.”

He ignored the implication that Anne’s
health would matter particularly to him. Lady Catherine knew his feelings on
the matter. “I am glad she is in good health.”

“I am very pleased with her physician, Mr.
Graves. He is most diligent and particular in his care for her. He comes to see
her every week even when she is in good health, since he says it helps him
understand better how to help her at other times. He went as far as to join us
when we travelled to Ramsgate and took Anne for a walk along the promenade,
saying it would be good for her spirits to have the opportunity to walk out
with a gentleman like any other lady, and she did look much better on her
return. He has also given me a most useful tonic for my gout.”

And no doubt Mr. Graves also enjoyed the
payments he received every week. If his remedy for gout were truly effective,
presumably Lady Catherine would not require the assistance of two footmen to
walk even a short distance.

Richard said, “He is fortunate to have so
generous a patron as you.”

“He is cognizant of his good fortune, I
assure you, as is the clergyman I appointed to the Hunsford living. I am most
pleased with my choice. Mr. Collins is one of those rare men who know their
station and appreciate the condescension of their superiors. He is always happy
to receive my advice.”

“It sounds as if you could not have chosen
a more grateful recipient for your attentions.” Richard winked at Darcy.

“He has benefitted greatly from my advice.
Why, just a few months ago, at my recommendation, Mr. Collins took a wife, a
good, sensible one. All rectors should be married, I told him. It sets a good
example to their flock. Darcy, his wife claims to have met you.”

“I find that unlikely. Perhaps she was
mistaken.” He was hardly listening. Mention of the obsequious clergyman had
brought his thoughts back to Elizabeth. Where could she be hiding?

“No, I am certain of it. She met you in
Hertfordshire. I have a most particular memory of her saying as much.”

Hertfordshire? He caught his breath. No,
of course it could not be Elizabeth. Her father would have told him had he
married her off. “What is her name?”

Lady Catherine smiled triumphantly. “She
was Miss Lucas. I remember it quite distinctly, for she told me her father’s
name. He was knighted, which was fortunate for her, since Mr. Collins had my
most particular instructions to marry a gentlewoman for my sake.”

Could it be? Elizabeth had said her friend
had married a fool and moved away. If Mrs. Collins was indeed the former
Charlotte Lucas and Elizabeth’s particular friend, surely she would know where
Elizabeth was to be found. She had a practical mind. She must have, to marry
that fool Collins for his prospects. But wait – Elizabeth had said she
was to visit her friend. Could he possibly be so fortunate? He cleared his
throat. “It must be difficult for her to be so far from her family and friends.
Or do they visit her?”

Lady Catherine curled her lip. “There was
to be a visit, but it had to be cancelled at the last minute, something about
her sister being ill. I was quite cross, for I could see no reason for them to
stay away. Dr. Graves could have seen her if she were ill.”

His heart slowed to a normal rhythm.
Perhaps Miss Lucas – Mrs. Collins – might have the information he
needed. But the momentary hope of seeing Elizabeth so soon left a bitter
residue when it vanished. Why, oh why, had she not contacted him as he had
asked her to?

Darcy resolved to call on Mrs. Collins at
the first possible opportunity.

***

“Is she such a friend you cannot stay
away?” asked Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I have never seen you so eager to pay a
call.”

Darcy deliberately slowed his brisk
stride. “I am eager to be free of our aunt’s company; that is all.”

But his cousin gave him an odd glance,
clearly unsatisfied, and announced his intention to join Darcy in his visit to
the parsonage.

Mrs. Collins greeted the two cousins with
all courtesy, but Darcy thought he could detect a slight narrowing of her eyes
when she looked his way. So she knew about what had happened with Elizabeth, or
at least some of it. Had she heard the rumors? Or had Elizabeth said something
about him in a letter to her? If her dislike of him came from Elizabeth’s
criticism, then he would have no choice but to accept Mr. Bennet’s opinion that
Elizabeth wanted nothing to do with him.

That thought was too difficult to bear.

He had to find out. “Mrs. Collins, I hope
your family in Hertfordshire is in good health.”

“They are tolerably well, I thank you.”
Her tone was cool, almost dismissive.

“Does your father continue to enjoy the
hunt?”

“That is unlikely to change, unless it
should come to pass that every animal and bird should flee the environs.”

He could remember nothing about her
mother, but he had to find something to say to keep the conversation on
Meryton. Otherwise he could not ask about Elizabeth. “Your mother is also
well?”

Mrs. Collins’s eyebrows rose slightly.
“”She has been quite busy. You would not have heard the news. Shortly after my
own wedding, my younger sister became engaged and was married soon afterwards.
Marrying off two daughters in as many months has kept my mother well occupied.”

Darcy wondered how she would react if he
told her he probably knew more about her sister’s marriage than she did. “I
hope your sister will be very happy. Is the fortunate gentleman one I might
have met during my stay at Netherfield?”

“Your paths might have crossed. He was
Lieutenant Chamberlayne of the militia, now Captain.”

“I believe I recall him. He seemed an
amiable fellow.”

“I barely knew him myself, but it seems he
is kind to my sister.”

He certainly ought to be kind; he was
being paid well for it. “Do you hear from any of your friends in Meryton?”

Now her eyes definitely narrowed. No doubt
she had an excellent idea of precisely which friend he was curious about. Mrs.
Collins, like Elizabeth, was not a fool.

“A few, though I have not been here long.
Lizzy Bennet has been a regular correspondent, of course. Perhaps you might
remember her.” Her words seemed to have sharp edges.

“I remember her quite well.” Day and
night, for that matter. “How is Miss Elizabeth?”

Her smile was completely devoid of warmth.
“She is in good health.”

“I am glad to hear it.” A poor excuse for
an answer when he wanted to encourage her to say more. If only Richard were not
there! His cousin, he was certain, was not missing a word of this exchange.
“Pray give my regards to your parents when you write them next, and to Miss
Elizabeth as well.”

“I will be happy to do so, sir.” Her tone
indicated precisely the opposite. “Pardon me, Colonel Fitzwilliam. It is
inexcusably rude of us to discuss people with whom you have no acquaintance.
Lizzy is my dearest friend from Hertfordshire, as well as Mr. Collins’s
cousin.”

“A double connection, then,” said Richard.

“Were it not for her, I would never have
met my husband. Now it will be her turn, as she is to be married soon as well.
Perhaps she already is; I have not heard from her for over a fortnight. Are you
quite well, Mr. Darcy? You look suddenly pale.” Her words might as well have
been knives.

He was not at all well. A drenching in icy
water could not have had a more shocking impact. If his stomach had churned
before, it was nothing to this, when every muscle in his body seemed to clench
in protest. “Married? That is very sudden.” He had to force the words out.

“It seems to be the fashion these days. Or
did you think no man would want her?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Darcy saw
Richard sitting forward at this. “Nothing of the sort. I simply had no idea she
was thinking of marriage.”

Mrs. Collins shrugged. “It is the usual
story. She had no intention of marrying now, but someone began to spread rumors
about her – quite unfounded, I assure you – and it turned into a
scandal. So she will marry soon and the gossip will die a natural death.”

Richard shook his head sympathetically.
“It is very sad. Sometimes I do not know how young ladies tolerate it –
the knowledge that all it takes is one malicious person to ruin their
reputations. I am sorry for your friend, and I hope her marriage will prove
tolerable.”

Tolerable! She could have married
him
and been Mistress of Pemberley, and Richard hoped her marriage would be
tolerable
!
It had been one thing when he thought she might have hoped to go back to her
old life once the scandal had passed, but to marry another man? What was wrong
with her? She had been happy enough with his company during the storm –
not to mention his kisses – but now for some reason she seemed to have
returned to her old ill opinion of him.

Had Wickham said something to her to
poison her mind against him? He would strangle the blackguard with his own
hands! But it made no sense. After seeing the scene at the tavern where Wickham
had taken advantage of Miss Lucas, Elizabeth surely would not credit any of his
lies.

Perhaps it was her father, who seemed to
hold something against him. Had he influenced Elizabeth somehow? Or was it that
unequal marriage nonsense she had spoken of during the storm?

He flexed his hands. If only he could
do
something! A fierce bout of fencing or a wild ride across the countryside would
help, but all he could do was to sit quietly until he could decently make an
excuse to leave. That was hardly satisfactory when he wanted to break the
window panes, tear down the shutters and smash them into kindling. Kindling.
Lighting a fire. Elizabeth. Devil take it – she would drive him out of
his mind!

***

It was a miracle Darcy managed to stay
awake throughout Mr. Collins’s intolerably dull sermon the following day. Not
that he was listening to it, of course. His mind was fully occupied with
strategies for cornering Mrs. Collins after the service.

A near sleepless night of torturing
himself with images of Elizabeth in another man’s arms was enough. His feelings
for her would not go away; he knew that now. Not while at some basic level he
would always belong to her. By the time the clock had chimed three o’clock, he
had been castigating himself for failing to seduce her while they had been
stranded. That would have resolved all these problems.

She had responded to him; of that much he
was certain She was not indifferent to him, and had sent a friendly letter to
him via Stanton. So why had she chosen not to write to him now?  Much more
of this and that question would be indelibly etched inside his skull, along
with the other question of why he had allowed her to walk away from him in the
first place. What a fool he had been, thinking of duty and what society wanted!
All it had taken was discovering Elizabeth might already be married to someone
else, and all the duty in the world turned into dry ashes. Why had he not
realized it earlier?

But Mrs. Collins had only said she
might
be married already, so he would pray she was not. There was no time to delay
though, not when every day was another risk of losing her forever to another
man. He had to find her first.

Finally the sermon came to its long-winded
end. Darcy went through the rest of the service automatically. Mrs. Collins was
in the pew behind his, so he would need to exit quickly in order to prevent her
from avoiding him. Once he knew where Elizabeth was, he would leave Rosings
today despite his exhaustion. He could sleep after he had somehow convinced
Elizabeth to marry him. How he would manage that when he had been unable to do
so in three days alone with her in the storm was not to be considered. Somehow
he would accomplish it or die trying. He could picture her amused look, asking
him to explain precisely how one might die trying to propose to a woman. All he
knew was a life barren of Elizabeth would be a kind of death.

The congregation was rising now. Darcy had
taken care to sit at the end of the family pew to facilitate his escape. If he
had to wait for Lady Catherine to move her painfully gouty legs, he would lose
his chance. He set out purposefully toward his quarry, who was already making
for the church door, no doubt trying to escape him.

He caught up with her on the church steps.
“Mrs. Collins! A moment, I pray you.”

She hesitated, clearly wishing to refuse,
but unwilling to appear so uncivil to her patron’s nephew in public. It was
what he had counted on. “Mr. Darcy.”