A/N: Hello. As a writer, this is the tortured part of a story where I have to make sure things line up so that they happen the way I hoped or first thought they might. This is very much herding cats (at least to me) but without the benefit of a can of tuna. So any honest, constructive thoughts are welcome. Thanks!
GS
Elizabeth heard a noise behind her and saw Charlotte Lucas slip through the door into the bedchamber.
"Lizzy, what is the matter?" She sat next to her on the bed.
Elizabeth sat fretting and wiped away a tear. "Coming here was a terrible mistake. I should have written to Mr. Collins and asked to be released from any obligation. But, of course, now he's already told Lady Catherine, and even horrible Mr. Darcy is here! All I wish to do is return home to father."
"Do you and Mr. Collins have an understanding?" Charlotte asked quietly. "If I may inquire?"
Elizabeth gazed into Charlotte's calm face. "He mentioned the idea of it months ago when father first fell ill. But it was not settled, and I am more convinced than ever that he and I would make a very poor match. I don't know what I was thinking considering it, other than worried about my father and afraid for my sisters. Lady Catherine already thinks we're engaged; Collins must have told it was so. I will be ruined when this is over."
Charlotte smiled kindly. "Lizzy, if you cannot marry Mr. Collins, you must tell him. People who care about you will understand your decision. I daresay most will understand considering Longbourn's inheritance. Although your mother may never forgive you."
Elizabeth smiled through tears for the first time. "That is very astute, Charlotte."
Charlotte grinned. "I believe that is your biggest concern."
Behind her, there was a slight knock on the door. It opened and Charlotte's sister, Maria Lucas entered.
"There you both are. Mr. Collins is standing on the other side of the hall, pacing back and forth."
"He hasn't the courage to knock on the door," Charlotte said, shaking her head. "Poor Mr. Collins."
"At least now we know why he's so tentative about everything. Lady Catherine is a tyrant," Maria said.
Elizabeth tried to smile at Maria. "Will you tell Mr. Collins I am indisposed with a headache. I cannot talk to him right now."
Charlotte patted her friend's hand. "I will speak with him. I believe he and Darcy and the Colonel are going shooting tomorrow early anyway."
Mr. Collins shooting with Mr. Darcy. Would wonders never cease?
Darcy eyed the grey clouds clustering on the horizon as he followed near his cousin Fitz to a vast field in the Park early the next morning. Mr. Collins was behind him, as were several servants carrying guns, glass targets, and hunting accouterments. Occasionally, Collins would ask a question or mutter a complaint about the weather, but Darcy ignored him.
He still was completely baffled as to why-truly how?-someone like Miss Bennet came to be engaged to Mr. Collins. He was surprised at how the injustice of it made his blood thump in his head.
But, truly, it signified nothing.
That was his reaction to Miss Elizabeth Bennet's engagement. What did Shakespeare write? Sound and fury signifying nothing. He almost laughed aloud bitterly to himself, but stopped before his breath escaped his throat.
Elizabeth could be nothing to him. Her family was no one. Her connections. Her lineage. Family name. Not shameful, but no one.
Below his notice.
His steps crunched over the small rocks along the drive beneath his boots, beating a rhythm in his head. No one. No one. No one.
He was eager to be outside and out in the field. Today was a day that only a long period in fresh air could cure. As promised to this aunt, he and Fitz would take Collins out and show him how to shoot. Today they would only shoot glass pigeons because the humble parson couldn't have the murder of birds on his conscience. He sighed deeply. The rifle's weight was satisfyingly in his hands.
He was pleased to be out, the cool air running in and out of his lungs. Action and outdoors was the cure for nearly everything he'd learned long ago. Even being stuck in the company of someone as ridiculous as Collins. Especially with someone like Collins.
"I say, it's a warm day for spring, isn't it?" Collins said, removing his hat and blotting his forehead with a soiled handkerchief when they stopped in a clearing.
Darcy gave a sidelong glance at Collin's thick torso as he bent to mop his brow and speculated that the clergyman found most days warm with his stout frame.
Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled as he loaded and examined his gun. "We are victims of our vocations in that we both have been too sedentary of late, right, Collins? If we want to keep a figure as lean as Darcy's, we must stalk more often."
Good lord, his cousin seemed committed to making this a pleasant as possible encounter, something which made Darcy's lip curl.
Mr. Collins smiled uneasily as the servant held a gun for him.
"Do you know how to load your gun?" the servant asked.
Collins shook his head vigorously like a petulant child.
"I'll show you, old boy," Colonel Fitzwilliam said cheerfully, taking his gun. "First, you'll want to check the barrel to be sure it's not loaded. Put the ramrod into the barrel to check. Then pour the gunpowder, but you'll want to measure it so you control the amount. You'll want to make certain there are no lit embers, or..." Here he paused and smiled, "Boom!"
Mr. Collin's eyes grew wide. He didn't look as though he had the courage to even hold the rifle.
"I really am quite content to simply observe," Mr. Collins said primly.
Colonel Fitzwilliam shook his head. "No, you must learn to shoot. Every man should. How else might you protect your new bride if need be?"
"Protect her from what?" He smiled. "We shall be very safe at Rosings."
Irritation flared through Darcy. He grabbed the gun from the servant more roughly than he meant to. "From anything. Highwaymen! A wild animal! Will you never travel with her? You cannot expect her to stay within Rosings Park the rest of her life."
The Colonel was taken aback by this reaction. Mr. Collins stared at him with large, round eyes.
"Well, of course not," Collins sputtered. "But as a member of the clergy, I never…"
Darcy thrust the gun into Collin's hands and chest. "Even as a clergyman, you will be her husband and sole protector against the outside world."
"I say," Collins sniffed. "I'd not considered that."
"Easy, Darcy," Colonel Fitzwilliam said, and Darcy knew his cousin was in the right. Yet something about the haughty sneer on Collin's face infuriated him. Collins would never deserve a woman like Elizabeth Bennet.
"Forgive my cousin," Colonel Fitzwilliam said. "He is in a fine mood. I'll finish showing you how to load your rifle."
Darcy backed away, aware that the servants were eyeing him and kicked at a tall weed on the ground, but it bounced back up, unscathed from his boot. He was acting like an ass. And yet he could not help himself.
Once the guns were loaded, the men waited for the servants to ready the glass pigeons.
"Darcy," he heard his cousin say as his side. "What vexes you?"
"The man's a toffy-headed fool," Darcy hissed.
"Undoubtedly, but so are most people. Agitating him won't cure that."
"Maybe he should be agitated. Perhaps it's the only way for him to realize all of the bloody luck the fool has blundered into. Inheriting Longbourn, marrying Miss Bennet…" Darcy's voice trailed off unhappily.
Colonel Fitzwilliam's brows knitted together. "My God, Darcy. If I did not know you better, I'd say you were…" the Colonel's voice dropped. "You sound like a jealous schoolboy."
"That's ridiculous," Darcy spat. "Her family is inferior, her relations too low to merit notice from me."
A smile broke onto the Colonel's face. "And yet, you have noticed her. I'd wager a great deal."
Darcy scoffed and stepped away from the Colonel's side. His cousin moved over to him again. "Darcy's met a maid-en/ They cannot be separat-ed…" he began singing quietly, putting Darcy's name into an old drinking song.
"You will be quiet or I will thrash you," Darcy growled. The Colonel's song stopped, but he continued humming the tune as they watched Collins attempt to aim his rifle.
"Do not forget I am holding a weapon," Darcy warned and the Colonel smiled serenely.
"In the face of love, Darcy, you are like Collins with the rifle. Unsure lest it go off in your face."
"Do shut up, Cousin."
They watched Collins struggle to hold steady the heavy barrel. "Considering his stance, this shot might be the end of him," the Colonel whispered.
Darcy's jaw tightened as Collin's gun barrel trembled against the blue sky. The servant threw the glass bird into the air and Collins finally fired, his head and chest snapping back at the force of the gun. He missed spectacularly and stood blinking in a cloud of gunfire. The bird fell to the ground.
Next to him, the Colonel smirked and hid his smile in his hand.
Collins coughed in the smoke.
Really, thought Darcy. A child could do better.
Colonel Fitzwilliam produced a small flask from an inner pocket of his jacket as they tramped back through the fields to Rosings. "Anyone wish for a warm up? Collins? Darcy?"
"Oh, I say," Collins said. He paused like a child left alone with a cake. "As a clergyman, I shouldn't indulge. But a slug can't hurt. I am practically a gentleman."
Darcy sent a scathing look to Collins, but he did not notice. The Colonel handed the flask over and he took a quick sip. Then, just as Darcy expected, his eyes opened wide and he blinked several times. Apparently he was not used to fine brandy. He coughed twice. "Excellent liquor," he wheezed breathlessly.
Darcy accepted the flask too, taking a long drought. Anything to make this day more tolerable. If someone offered him laudanum at this point, he might have taken it.
"So you may inherit the lovely spot in Hertfordshire? Longford?" The Colonel asked.
"Longbourn," both Collins and Darcy said at the same moment, which made Darcy scowl again.
"Lest we forget, the master is still very much alive," Darcy said.
"Yes, Longbourn," the Colonel said. "And Miss Bennet's mother and many sisters are still there. I assume you'll let them stay then?"
Collins lowered the flask slowly and handed it back to the Colonel. "Why would I not take possession immediately?"
The Colonel's smile faded. "You would be displacing several helpless women. Or have you found accommodations for them?"
"I have not, but surely…" Collins paused. "Mrs. Bennet has a sister. She could go there. As could the girls."
Darcy, who stood behind Mr. Collins, balled his hands into fists.
"I'm sure accommodations can be made," Collins sniffed. "But I do not have unlimited funds."
Darcy stepped forward so that he was nearly on top of Collins. "The women will be reliant on you to support them. You will not put a widow out of her home, will you?"
Mr. Collins flinched and wrung his hands. "Mrs. Bennet will have a small yearly income. Also Miss Bennet and I cannot stay under the same roof until we are married."
"You wish to make a pauper out of your cousin's widow?" Darcy said.
"No, But I was not aware that my cousin's family was solely my responsibility."
"That is what it means to be a gentleman, Collins," said Darcy. "Responsibility for those who have less." His voice rumbled like a warning.
Mr. Collins sniffed again, clearly not enjoying Darcy's interference. "I was under the impression that becoming a man of leisure would allow me to spend my time as I saw fit."
Darcy fought an urge to laugh. Collins did not know the first thing about being a gentleman. "And what about your bride?" The word tasted terrible in his mouth. "She seemed uncertain of your engagement plans."
Here Collins smiled more confidently than he had before. "Oh, women are so flighty. She does not know her own mind. Therein lies the crux." He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. "If she wants to keep a roof for her mother's head, she best marry me." The Colonel raised an eyebrow. The brandy seemed to loosen Collins' tongue. "Besides, what else can they do? Take a room in Meryton?" He giggled at this.
Darcy stared. Of course it was true. Upon their father's death, the Bennets' station would be much lowered, but Collins actually voiced this uncomfortable truth and wished to use it to his advantage.
"How gentlemanly of you," Darcy said as they entered Rosings. Without pausing, he went quickly up the stairs.
Darcy was not in his room more than a quarter of an hour before there was a knock on his door.
"Come in."
Across the room, Darcy stood staring out the window. He was debating how quickly it would take him to gather up his belongings and leave Rosings that day. His aunt would not be happy, but he wasn't sure he could spend another evening in Collins' company without doing violence to his person.
The Colonel stepped in and closed the door behind him, frowning.
"Darcy? Aunt would like us to come downstairs and view the new whelps."
Darcy did not turn his head from the window. "I do not wish for a whelp."
"I see you're having a drink. I'll do likewise if only to keep you from feeling alone." His cousin poured himself a drink from the decanter and shared his cousin's view.
"What are you doing up here by yourself besides drinking and sulking?"
Darcy turned his head. "I'm not sulking. I'm simply exhausted by what a fool Collins is. Surely you cannot be enjoying his company."
The Colonel shrugged. "He is entertaining. Inadvertently, of course."
"This entire week shall be ghastly. I cannot remain for it."
His cousin laughed. "You're going to leave? What folly! Aunt Catherine will hunt you down and have you dragged back at least through Easter."
"I cannot stay," Darcy said. "And watch that ninny…" He stopped.
"What? Inherit the property that's lawfully his?" the Colonel said, fully turning to Darcy now.
"You know I do not care about that," Darcy said.
"What has you so riled? You're grinding your teeth down to dust, by the way."
Darcy was tensing his jaw again. How dare his cousin challenge him? If he wanted to leave, he would leave. Hang Lady Catherine and hang his cousin.
"That it is Miss Elizabeth you are pining for," the Colonel said, "Are you so blind? I have known you since childhood and I've never seen you so distracted. You shut up like a clam when she comes into the room and stare at her as though she's an apparition. You are taken with her, and why not? She is kind and lovely. True, she has no fortune, but Darcy, she is a kind girl."
Darcy looked at his cousin. "You do not understand. I have responsibilities to my family and Georgiana."
"And how might you be shirking them by bringing her a decent, loving sister?" he paused. The Colonel downed the last of his drink. "The family will accept it in time. Even some of the ton will. Miss Bennet has all the qualities of a fine young woman. People will follow your lead. For God's sake, your Darcy of Pemberley. You just need to stick your neck out." The colonel patted his cousin's back before heading for the door. "For once in your life."
Elizabeth sat with Charlotte Lucas on a loveseat in the small, bright sitting room that abutted their bed chamber. Maria Lucas sat in a nearby window seat, paging through the copy of La Belle Assembles Lydia had given her and sighed.
"I have seen almost nothing of the fashions of London," she fretted. "Lydia will not be pleased when I have nothing to show her upon our return."
Elizabeth smiled sympathetically. "Lydia will recover quickly enough. I'll wager it will be forgotten as soon as her attention falls to the next thing. Or the next red coat, if I know my sister."
Maria gazed out the window to the Park.
"There's Mr. Darcy, the Colonel and Mr. Collins all returning to the Park. With four, no, five servants. They do not appear happy."
Charlotte stood and looked out. "They must have gone shooting after all. There are no birds though. How odd."
Elizabeth's mouth turned down. Now that they returned, this afternoon might allow her the opportunity to speak privately with Collins and tell him in no uncertain terms they were not engaged.
"That's because Mr. Collins will not shoot real birds on account of his being a clergyman," Maria said. "I heard him say so last night."
Charlotte nodded. "He is rather pious."
Elizabeth met her gaze but said nothing. Pious was not the word she would choose to describe Mr. Collins.
She stood and set aside her book. "Excuse me, but I hope to speak privately with my cousin."
She stopped by the looking glass to smooth her hair and allow the men a chance to enter downstairs. Perhaps she might catch Mr. Collins before he returned to his home. She came down the main stairs, hearing the faint rumble of men's voices in the other room. The last thing she wanted to do was encounter Mr. Darcy in the hall. She strained to hear the voices again. She could not make out who was speaking.
Elizabeth let herself down another flight of stairs. The voices grew louder and her heart hammered in her chest. They were just around the corner.
She froze.
Two footmen appeared around the corner, pausing to bow quickly to her.
She turned back to watch them hurry to service stairs, placing her hand on her chest in relief.
Suddenly a tall, dark figure appeared in front of her. She nearly walked into it but jumped back at the last moment.
Mr. Darcy. He scowled menacingly.
"Miss Bennet."
"Oh! Mr. Darcy! Forgive me. I was not paying attention to where I was going."
He bowed curtly, his dark eyes peering into hers, but said nothing.
"I was seeking Mr. Collins. Do you know if he came by this way?"
He blinked and Elizabeth swore he seemed disapproving. "I believe he was returning to his home to dress for dinner."
"I see."
Elizabeth wondered if she might catch Mr. Collins if she ran outside. Now her face felt warm.
"May I be of service to you?"
"No, thank you. I wish to speak to my cousin."
"Of course you do."
A strange look glinted in Darcy's eyes, almost disappointment or even sadness. She swallowed quickly. "Excuse me," she said and hurried away, relieved to not be under Darcy's scrutiny on her any longer.