Page 19 of Most Truly the Gentleman

“I am delighted to hear it,” Admiral Kirkland replied. “Few deserve happiness as much as Miss Jane Bennet, and she is so taken with him, I have feared he might break her heart. In that case, I should be obliged to set out after him with my old sabre. Probably do myself an injury, ha, ha!”

“Is she? Taken with him?” Darcy felt compelled to ask. “I see she accepts his company with pleasure, but I detect no more in her demeanour.”

Fitzwilliam scoffed. “That is because you do not understand ladies in the slightest, Cousin. She is a modest and restrained lady, not the sort to make a display of her feelings. But they are there to be seen in the way she leans towards him as he speaks, and her failure to attend to those about her when he is of their number.”

“And he is just as inattentive, which bodes very well, I should say,” the admiral replied. “Though one might wish he would come to the point more expeditiously. Miss Bennet’s engagement, were it to happen very soon, might forestall the tragedy I fear lies ahead for her sister.”

“Why, whatever do you mean, Kirkland?” Fitzwilliam enquired with a startled air.

“Miss Elizabeth and that bumbling cousin of her father’s. From what I observed at her aunt’s entertainment and tonight, Mr Collins has come to Longbourn with matrimony in mind, and as Miss Bennet is being courted, he has settled upon the next in precedence. With, I have no doubt whatsoever, Mrs Bennet’s encouragement, perhaps even under her direction. Observe them for a time, and you will see.”

Darcy did so. Mr Collins was standing very close to Miss Elizabeth, his eyes almost exclusively fixed upon her, and from her place among a group of matrons, Mrs Bennet’s gaze fell upon them very frequently, her expression one of smug satisfaction. He grimaced as the truth of the admiral’s assertions was revealed. Collins was most decidedly attempting to court Miss Elizabeth, with her mother’s approval. The young lady herself did not appear pleased, though she bore him with patience.

“By God, you are right.” Fitzwilliam broke the silence that had descended between them. He shook his head and added, “I cannot imagine she would accept him, however.”

“She may not have a choice,” the admiral answered heavily. “He is heir to Longbourn, and she will not reach her majority until the summer.”

“A tragedy indeed,” Fitzwilliam said. Darcy could only nod his agreement. “Do you believe her father will insist?”

“I cannot say. In any other case, I should not hesitate to declare that he would allow any daughter of his her own head, but in this case, he must think of his wife and other daughters, must he not? What he might conclude after thinking of them, only he knows.”

Darcy finally found his tongue. “She would be miserable with such a man.”

“And he would be miserable, too, for my aunt will not care to have her clergyman install a lady so much her own daughter’s superior in all but breeding into the local society,” Fitzwilliam opined. “She will ensure the couple feels his error keenly.”

The admiral said something in reply, and the conversation continued between the two military men, but Darcy heard nothing of it. He was engaged in contemplating the awkward, one-sided courtship playing out before him.

Darcy learnt a great deal from a quarter hour’s observation. He noted the expression of satisfaction which overspread Mr Collins’s features as he gazed upon Miss Elizabeth, and deduced that the man felt his petition could not but be successful when he made it. He saw also the relief which flickered across Miss Elizabeth’s face when her sister, Miss Mary, approached and spoke to the man, showing him something within a book she held. They bent over the volume for several minutes, having what seemed to be a serious discussion, while Miss Elizabeth entered into the larger conversation in visibly higher spirits, which dampened again when the clergyman returned to her side and began to speak at length.

“What is it you are contemplating so seriously there, Cousin?”

As Darcy looked to Fitzwilliam, the colonel directed his own gaze in the direction whence Darcy’s had been pointed. “Ah, I see,” he said. “It will be a very great pity if that union does come to pass. Nearly as great a waste of a good woman on an unworthy man as the Princess of Wales. And we shall bear witness to its consequences annually, when we visit Lady Catherine.”

“It occurs to me,” Darcy said in a voice pitched for his two companions alone, “that it might be possible to prevent it.”

“I am all ears,” the admiral replied.

“Likewise,” said Fitzwilliam.

“It is as you said, Cousin—Lady Catherine shall not be pleased with a pretty, witty Mrs Collins. It is also apparent that Mr Collins has not recognised the danger to his happy congress with Rosings Park. Would it not be a kindness if one of the lady’s own nephews were to inform him that he is about to make a grave misstep?”

The admiral’s craggy face split into a grin, and Fitzwilliam positively cackled. “Clever, Darcy, very clever. You ought to approach him soon—he strikes me as silly enough to propose to a woman he has known for only a week.”

“Me?” Darcy protested. “I had thought you ought to take those reins, Cousin. You are by far the more personable of us.”

“But Mr Collins was a great deal more interested in speaking with you than with me,” he pointed out. “No doubt Lady Catherine has made clear the fact that you are first among her nephews in her esteem. He will listen most readily to you, I think, though I am perfectly willing to support you if I am present for the conversation.”

“I should prefer it if you were,” Darcy replied, uncomfortable with the very notion of taking the lead in the enterprise, though it had been his own idea.

“There is a little time before dinner. Let us think upon what might best be said, for I do believe that there might be an opportunity to fire your broadside after the ladies have retired from the table,” the admiral suggested.

13

CHANGING COURSE

When the gentlemen were left to their port after dinner, Admiral Kirkland declared that his old bones were in need of a warming, and with a bit of a show of moving stiffly, took himself over to the fireplace. Darcy and Fitzwilliam filled their glasses and his and went to keep him company.

Mr Collins wasted little time in approaching, bowing so low an observer might be forgiven for thinking he was greeting three dukes rather than three gentlemen. He declared his pleasure in seeing his patroness’s nephews so attentive to their neighbours, heaping paeans upon their heads for graciousness and condescension, the likes of which was but rarely seen outside the hallowed halls of Rosings Park.