They could not answer her. Finally, Charlotte said, “You are right; there was nothing to do but to respond in a friendly manner.”
“Which is exactly what I did, yet here I find myself censured.” Her tone was irritable.
Charlotte turned to her husband. “Mr. Collins, Eliza did nothing wrong.”
“No, indeed! And there was a seat open beside Miss de Bourgh; it was up to him to select that spot,” Elizabeth insisted.
“It is impossible for Mr. Darcy to be at fault,” Mr. Collins asserted. “He is of the very highest circles.”
Elizabeth laughed, though it was not a merry sound. “Yes, so you have said, more than once. And yet, I discovered that he really is the very same Mr. Darcy who was expected to visit his friend Charles Bingley at Netherfield.”
“Really!” Charlotte was amazed.
“Yes; he knew his friend had married a local lady, but of course did not know that the new Mrs. Bingley is my eldest sister. What an odd coincidence!”
Mr. Collins said, “Well, that explains the extended conversation, then. I shall explain it to Lady Catherine and assure her that she need not fear a repeat of it.”
Elizabeth turned to him. “I wish to make certain that I understand what is expected of me in the future. If we are invited again to Rosings Park…”
“Which I think unlikely, as long as Mr. Darcy is here,” Charlotte interrupted.
“Very well; if I happen upon him while walking about the grounds, what would you have me do?”
“Turn away before he sees you,” Mr. Collins advised.
“But let us suppose that he does see me and he speaks to me.”
“Reply briefly and hurry on.”
“So engage with him as little as possible, even if it means that I am being rude?”
Mr. Collins responded with “Exactly,” and his wife with “Do not be rude,” at the same time.
Elizabeth stared at the two of them and shook her head just as Sir Lucas descended the stairs with his valise in hand. With profuse thanks for the hospitality shown him, and expressions of delight at his daughter’s happy situation, he hugged and kissed both Charlotte and Maria, bowed to Elizabeth, and then walked outside to his waiting carriage, followed by his two daughters and Mr. Collins. Sir Lucas climbed into the carriage and banged on the ceiling of the coach, alerting the coachman that he was ready to be off. The coach started off and soon disappeared around the bend.
Elizabeth took advantage of her host’s momentary distraction to pin on her bonnet and head outdoors through the kitchen door. She walked at a fast and furious pace, angry at the situation she had been put into, and resentful of everyone involved. It was, of course, inevitable that she should meet up with the Colonel and Mr. Darcy. Mindful of her instructions, she curtsied to the two men and changed direction.
“Miss Bennet, wait!” the Colonel called out.
Sighing, she stopped and waited. The two men caught up with her in a moment.
“It is a lovely day, is it not?” Mr. Darcy enquired.
“It is,” she replied.
“You are fond of walking, I gather?” the Colonel said.
“I am.” She looked away.
The two gentlemen exchanged glances. The Colonel said, gently, “Might I ask if you have been given instruction regarding further interaction with Darcy here?”
Elizabeth was silent.
“Your silence tells me everything I need to know,” Mr. Darcy said in disgust.
She looked up at him, anger in her eyes. “You are all but engaged to your cousin. By sitting beside me last evening, rather than taking your proper seat beside her, I have been subjected to an inquisition from your aunt and an entire morning’s worth of lectures from my cousin Collins and his wife, Charlotte. I beg you, Mr. Darcy, do me the immense favour of ignoring me!”
Mr. Darcy stared at her. He drank her in, every bit of her. Her eyes, her hair, her complexion, memorizing her features, and turned away.
