“Would you like some tea, Mr Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam?” Mrs Collins gently interjected. She gave her husband a look that had his expression alter from disapproving to chagrined.
Miss Elizabeth appeared amused; her brow arched and lips twitched. He continued to observe her as Mrs Collins served refreshments.
“Miss Bennet, how long have you been in the neighbourhood?” Fitzwilliam asked. He was sitting in an enviable position, being beside her on an old-fashioned settee.
“About a fortnight.”
Fitzwilliam offered Miss Lucas a polite smile. “Have you enjoyed your sojourn? How long do you expect to remain?”
The girl’s eyes grew wide, and she gave Miss Elizabeth a pleading look. Mr Collins might have responded in her stead, but his wife subtly shook her head.
“The neighbourhood is very pleasant,” Miss Elizabeth said. “What is most agreeable is seeing my friend so happy in her new home.”
Darcy spoke before he realised he was going to; it had the effect of Miss Elizabeth directing her attention tohimnot Fitzwilliam, which was exactly what he wanted. After all,hehadmet her before, and his cousin had not. “The-the house is a comfortable one, and the garden delightful.”
Faintly, Darcy heard Mr and Mrs Collins say something, but he paid them no mind. Miss Elizabeth made an indifferent noise, but did not speak, which was disappointing.
“May I enquire after your family? I hope they are well,” he asked her.
She eyed him speculatively. “They are well, thank you. My sister Jane has been in London since the end of December. Have you happened to see her?”
He just managed to stop himself from displaying his shock. Was she aware that Darcy knew of her sister’s presence in town and had concealed it from his friend?
“No, I-I have not been fortunate enough to encounter her,” he said and averted his gaze. In his head, a malicious voice remarked on his lying. It was ungentlemanly, and worse, he had lied toher.
He said nothing further, and after quickly finishing his tea, indicated to his cousin that they ought to depart.
Two days later, despite his inclination, Darcy returned to the parsonage—but only because keeping company at Rosings was even less agreeable than sitting in Mrs Collins’s parlour. Fitzwilliam was busy with he knew not what, which allowed him to slip out of the house unseen—not that there was any reason to keep his intentions to himself.
Mrs Collins welcomed him politely. After offering him refreshments, which he declined, she occupied her sister in a quiet conversation; she even sat in such a way that if he andMiss Elizabeth kept their voices low, the other ladies would not overhear. His heart beat rapidly, and he was vexed to realise he did not know what to say. Thus, after an awkward reference to the weather, he picked up a newspaper he happened to notice on a nearby table. While pretending to read, he glanced at her repeatedly, the tight band about his chest slowly loosening.
It was very good to see her again! He was loath to admit it even to himself, but he had thought of her often in the months since they had last seen each other. Usually, a little thing brought on a memory of her—hearing a lady laugh and knowing Miss Elizabeth’s was more musical, sitting next to a young woman at dinner and seeing that her eyes were not as fine, her conversation not as witty, her attempts to tease not as charming. There was no denying that the pull he felt to her had not diminished since the autumn.
But it is impossible. She is entirely unsuitable. This…feelingI have means nothing. In Hertfordshire, it was because I was miserable after what happened with Georgiana and Wickham, and now it is because of how uncomfortable my aunt makes me. She proposes Anne as my bride, when all I have to do is traverse the short distance to the parsonage to see a lady I know would make me infinitely happier.
Tossing the newspaper onto the table, he stood. “I have taken up enough of your time. Good day, ladies.” He bowed and was gone before Mrs Collins—or Miss Elizabeth—had an opportunity to speak.
Mr Collins’ sermon that Sunday was as dismal as Darcy had expected it would be. He sat as still as possible, his spine rigid,willing himself not to—yet again—look across the aisle to where a certain lovely young lady sat. Her bonnet and pelisse were a deep, rich blue that reminded him of the summer sky. He wondered if she had spent much time walking since arriving in Kent, concluding that she must have.She would take pleasure in exploring a new region, as well as escaping the confines of the parsonage. She would adore Pemberley.
He was imagining what sort of wife she would be to him, when Fitzwilliam jabbed an elbow into his side. “He must be almost finished, do you not think? I would swear we have been here half the day already.”
At Darcy’s other side, Anne sniffed loudly. Although he believed it was because she had heard Fitzwilliam’s remark rather than a sign of illness, Mrs Jenkinson began to quietly fuss. Fortunately, Lady Catherine’s increasing deafness combined with her close, scowling study of the parson meant she had not noticed what her relations were doing.
A moment later, Fitzwilliam whispered, “Shall we convince our aunt to invite them to dinner? I would not object to more of Miss Bennet’s company.” He tilted his head towards where Miss Elizabeth sat with her friends.
Darcy’s eyes lingered on her.It would be better for my peace of mind if I avoid her.Nevertheless, he gave a single, curt nod.
CHAPTER THREE
Lady Catherine did not invite the Collinses and their guests to dinner, but she did ask them to spend the evening. Between dinner and their entrance, Darcy kept his eyes on the mantel clock, anxious for Miss Elizabeth’s arrival. As soon as he saw her, he felt lighter—he could breathe easier, stand taller without a weight on his shoulders pressing him down, and his mind was stiller.
“Miss Elizabeth, you are looking well this evening. I-I mean, I hope you are well.” He had not meant to compliment her and blushed. Henevercomplimented a lady unless she was a relation. No doubt, Miss Elizabeth already recognised his interest in her, and he would not give her reason to believe his attraction would end with an offer of marriage.
Her eyes sparkled in humour, and she smiled. “Thank you, sir, I am quite well, and I believe this gown suits me admirably. Young ladies must consider these things.”
She and Fitzwilliam began to chat, and Darcy would have joined them but for Lady Catherine.
“Nephew, come explain that nonsense Parliament is planning to Mr Collins. He ought to know about it, and althoughI have an excellent understanding, it would be better coming from another man.”
