Page 17 of A Sisterly Bond

“Mr Bingley’s loyalty deserves consideration,” Elizabeth answered. “Though some people seemed to take his kindness as weakness.”

Again, her words seemed to affect Mr Darcy, who glanced at her, and their eyes locked briefly. His expression tightened almost imperceptibly. Elizabeth caught the change and wondered what private knowledge lay behind it.

She recalled Miss Bingley’s fury in Miss Darcy’s drawing-room and Mr Bingley’s open astonishment at finding Jane in town. Mr Darcy must have been aware of her sister’s presence there — even Miss Bingley had suggested as much.

The conversation continued in a pleasant enough way. Colonel Fitzwilliam proved an easy and engaging talker, drawing both Charlotte and Elizabeth into a discussion of the neighbourhood, the relative merits of town and country, and the peculiarities of military life. Mr Collins contributed more than was required on every subject; Mr Darcy spoke seldom and Sir William and Maria even less.

Though she enjoyed the colonel’s company exceedingly, Elizabeth found herself watching Mr Darcy more often than she intended, trying to guess the thoughts that lay behind that composed exterior.

Several times, their eyes met across the room. On each occasion she looked away first, unsettled by the intensity of his regard. Was he measuring her against some private standard of suitability for his sister’s friendship? Did he regret the introduction that Miss Darcy had so warmly pursued? Mr Darcy was clearly not a man one could easily read. How could he be so different from his sister and his cousin the colonel?

At length, after a proper amount of time dedicated to a first call, the gentlemen rose to take their leave. Colonel Fitzwilliam expressed the hope of seeing them again soon; Mr Darcy bowed with formal correctness, his farewell brief and unsmiling.

Elizabeth returned the civility with equal composure, though her mind remained busy with unanswered questions. As the two gentlemen walked down the garden path towards their horses, she stood a moment at the window, watching them go.

Charlotte came to stand beside her.

“Well, Eliza? What do you make of our distinguished visitors?”

“The colonel is all that is amiable,” Elizabeth replied thoughtfully. “As for Mr Darcy — I confess I find him more difficult to read than ever. I wonder why he would take the trouble to pay visits, when such activity seems appalling to him.”

Mr Collins, returning from the gate where he had lingered to offer a final bow, interrupted their exchange with fresh raptures upon the honour of the visit.

Elizabeth listened with half an ear, her thoughts still occupied by the look in Mr Darcy’s eyes and the careful words he had chosen to describe a meeting that had, for her, meant far more than a mere accident.

“Dear cousin,” Mr Collins addressed her, “it is not for us to judge anything Lady Catherine’s nephews might do. It will simply not do! As for Mr Darcy, Lady Catherine often says he is one of the best young gentlemen our country has!”

“Miss Eliza had always been very opinionated, and she and Mr Darcy have never been on the best of terms,” Sir William interjected. “It must be from the time he refused to dance with her. However, I remember a time when Mr Darcy asked you to dance, Miss Elizabeth, and you refused him!”

Mr Collins stared in disbelief and horror. “Excuse me? You refused Mr Darcy? Cousin Elizabeth, if Lady Catherine ever finds out about this—

“There is nothing to find out, Mr Collins,” Elizabeth answered with some severity. “The instance Sir William mentioned was just a joke. I am absolutely certain Mr Darcy had no intention to really dance, so my refusal offended nobody. Rest assured that I have no desire to contradict Lady Catherine’s excellent opinion about Mr Darcy.”

For the rest of the day, all conversation focused upon Mr Darcy and the colonel; Mr Collins prayed that an invitation to Rosing would arrive soon, before Sir William departed from Kent.

Just before dinner, Doctor Linfield arrived for another examination, and his reports put everyone at ease.

“I shall inform her ladyship immediately that there is no sign of infection left,” the doctor concluded, and Mr Collins responded with endless thanks and repeated bows.

Elizabeth shared little of the others’ enthusiasm about Rosings. From the little she had seen of Lady Catherine, she found her unpleasant, arrogant, and ready to force her will upon those around her. Miss Darcy certainly did not resemble her and, from Mrs Gardiner’s narrations, neither did the late Lady Anne.

Mr Darcy was another story; though he did not so obviously overpower other people as his aunt, he probably possessed the same tendency in imposing his will whenever an opportunity arose. That must be one of the reasons he had insisted on separating Mr Bingley from Jane; what an irony that it was his own devoted sister who had been the means of repairing what the gentleman had broken.

As for Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst, they would hardly survive the tragedy of being scolded by their brother and knowing that Miss Darcy had visited the Gardiners! The image of their distress afforded Elizabeth that she utterly relished.

As for Mr Darcy, he certainly had not much power left over Mr Bingley in regard to Jane; but was he aware of his sister’s visit to Gracechurch Street?

***

Elizabeth slept little and ill that night and woke up very early in the morning. A sense of restlessness, caused by questions with no answers, troubled her, and she decided a little exercise before breakfast might help her.

As she had recently arrived in Kent, she was not quite familiar with the area, but she decided to take the path that followed the edge of the park, towards a grove that appeared to provide some privacy.

Although she did not concur with much of what Mr Collins had said about Rosings and its owner, she had to agree in regard to the beauty of the park and the manor. The parsonage itself was placed in a beautiful spot that would surely enhance Charlotte’s life.

“Miss Bennet?”

She startled and turned abruptly at the call, only to see Mr Darcy on his horse. She stopped and so did he; then he dismounted.