Sorry for the slight delay, the weather in the UK has been gorgeous and I simply got distracted by the sunshine!
Chapter Twelve
Mr Darcy assisted Elizabeth with righting her bonnet and cleaning her face of dried tears before they said a formal farewell to one another, which was in complete contradiction to both of their feelings.
When Lizzie returned to Longbourn the house was in chaos; Mr Collins was due in a little under an hour. She was rushed upstairs to wash and change into a clean dress. By the time she returned to the parlour the house was unusually quiet. Entering the room, Lizzie found her step-mother and sisters sitting primly; she almost laughed aloud for they looked so unlike themselves she could have believed they had been replaced by replicas. Polite, well-mannered replicas.
Sat amongst them was an unfamiliar man. He was a tall, heavy looking man of about five-and-twenty. His air was grave and stately, and his manners were very formal. It appeared to Elizabeth that the man needed little encouragement and was well into a description of his home when she arrived.
After introductions were made, she seated herself as far from the gentleman as possible. She was still emotionally raw from earlier, and did not trust herself to keep her contributions civil. It quickly became clear that Mr Collins was a bumbling fool. His preferred topics of conversation were limited to his esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, his delightful parsonage and his rights and responsibilities as a parson. When he did attempt to expand his range of discourse, he frequently contradicted himself.
As the family moved into the dining room some while later to partake of their evening meal, Mr Collins also succeeded in offending those around him as he inspected and commented upon the house's furnishings. During the meal, Mr Bennet scarcely spoke, though it was clear to Elizabeth that he was enjoying the peculiarities of their houseguest. The man complimented everything; from the draperies to the glassware, the ceiling rose to the potatoes.
Mr Bennet managed to endure a single glass of port with him after the meal before rising and insisting that the pair return to the ladies of the house without further delay. When they re-entered the parlour, they discovered the two youngest Bennet girls had been excused by their mother, the other three were sat, as neatly as they could, close together on sofa that was actually designed to seat only two occupants. A coordinated effort on their part to limit the chance of Mr Collins electing to sit beside one of them.
As the evening wore on their guest offered to read to them all. This was endured with as much grace as the daughters could manage, a trait Mrs Bennet was clearly lacking when she spoke over him not three pages later, "Do you know, Mr Bennet, that my brother Philips talks of turning away Richard and if he does, Colonel Forster will hire him. My sister told me about it herself and I shall walk to Meryton tomorrow to hear more about it."
The book was soon after put aside in favour of cards as Mr Collins declined to continue after the interruption, in spite of the half-hearted protests of Jane and Mary for him to resume.
The latest addition to the household was not a sensible man. It was rather through chance than intellect or connection that he was recommended to Lady Catherine when the living of Hunsford fell vacant. Through her high rank, and his high opinion of himself, he had come to expect success in all aspects of his life; including his present intention to marry. His plan before entering the neighbourhood was to select a bride from within the Longbourn family. This plan suffered not at all upon seeing the three eldest Miss Bennet's, all of whom were out in society and available for him to make his choice from.
The next morning at breakfast, during a conversation beginning with his parsonage, and leading naturally to of his hopes that a mistress for it might be found at Longbourn, Mrs Bennet smiled complaisantly. She was unsurprisingly pleased at the thought of how she may so easily be able to remove either Jane or Elizabeth from her home; for she would never permit her Mary to marry such a man. The more the vindictive woman thought on it, the more she decided that one particular Bennet would serve a greater benefit to her in such a marriage than the other.
"Jane, naturally as the eldest, should be first for your consideration, sir. Do not you agree?"
It was settled between them within fifteen minutes that Jane would be Mr Collins's choice. For Mrs Bennet this was the far better option than the infuriating Elizabeth. With Jane as the wife of the future master of Longbourn, her comfort and security after the passing of her husband would be guaranteed. Elizabeth was not as likely to be as accommodating in such circumstances (or so she believed). It would serve the added bonus of preventing Jane from continuing to distract Mr Bingley from the lady Mrs Bennet intended as his wife, her dear Mary.
Despite her scheming, Mrs Bennet's resolution to go to town to speak with her sister was not forgotten. To encourage Mr Collins's quest for a bride, she bid Jane and Elizabeth accompany her and called on Mr Collins to attend them also. When they entered Meryton in the carriage, Mrs Bennet allowed the younger occupants to vacate the carriage and enjoy browsing the shops whilst she continued on to her sister's home.
As they were about to enter the bookseller's shop, the group heard someone call out to them. Lizzie turned around to see her dearest friend, Charlotte Lucas, and her younger sister, Maria, approaching them. Jane introduced Mr Collins to their neighbours just in time for Maria to make a quick turn about and run off to greet one of the Miss Long's who was at that moment exiting the milliner's.
When giggling interrupted the ensemble's tête-à-tête, they followed the sound to see Maria Lucas and Miss Long flirting with a small group of young men; an officer and a plain clothed gentleman. Charlotte quit the group with the objective of reprimanding her sister and was swiftly followed by Elizabeth and Jane. Mr Collins, who had all but attached himself to the eldest Miss Bennet since breakfast, waddled after them.
When the group gained the pavement on the opposite side of the street, they were just in time to hear the officer, one Mr Denny, introducing the gentleman stranger as a Mr Wickham. Their new acquaintance was a handsome man with a fine countenance, a good figure and a very pleasing address, and his declaration that he had just accepted a commission with the militia stationed thereabouts was all that was required to render him completely charming.
Elizabeth, who was still attempting to regain her equilibrium following Mr Darcy's revelations the day before, kept herself slightly removed from those gushing over the latest arrival to the town. It was she, therefore, who first noticed the sound of horses approaching. Looking up, she found herself surprised to feel a smile grace her face when she recognised Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley riding down the street.
On noticing the Bennet ladies as part of the group, the two gentlemen came directly towards them and began the usual civilities. They, Bingley said, had just been on their way to Longbourn to inquire of Miss Bennet's health and continued recovery. Mr Darcy corroborated it with a bow though his face spoke of the discomfort he found with such a plan. Relief that the anticipated meeting, under the eyes of those who would surely detest such a call, had been denied was plain to see if one looked closely enough at three of the persons present.
Darcy, who was just determining not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth, suddenly caught sight of the stranger. Elizabeth happened to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other and was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red.
Elizabeth's recent encounter with Mr Darcy left her with softening feelings towards the reserved gentleman, which was quickly evolving into concern for him. It could not be clearer to her that the two men were known to one another and she grew frustrated that the requirement she keep her distance from Mr Darcy publically meant she was unlikely to be able to pry even a single answer to one of the many questions floating in her head out of him.
At that moment, Mrs Bennet, who had been observing the encounter as a whole from her sister's parlour, threw open the window to call the girls inside – and away from Mr Bingley. The forgotten Mr Collins piped up to bellow the reply that he would hurry his dear cousins along, and without further distraction the party took their leave from one another and began to separate.
Mr Denny and Mr Wickham walked the ladies to the door of Mr Philips's house and received an invitation to join them as recompense from Mrs Philips, though it was politely declined. Inside the house the group was manoeuvred in such a way that Jane was required to sit next to her most determined admirer.
A day later, Mrs Bennet, the three eldest Bennet sisters and an enthusiastic Mr Collins returned to the Philips residence to attend a card party. Also present were several of the officers stationed nearby, including the recently arrived Mr Wickham, who had since taken on the rank of Lieutenant. All of the young ladies followed him with their eyes in hopes of gaining the attention of the gentleman dressed smartly in a new red coat. Elizabeth was the lucky lady by whom he stationed himself and together they observed her sister Jane and Mr Collins as they were paired together for a game of whist.
Elizabeth though this may provide a good opportunity for her to discover some details of the obvious history which existed between her companion and Mr Darcy, but was unsure how to approach such a subject with an acquaintance as new to her as Mr Wickham was. Her curiosity was answered soon enough when the officer asked her how long Mr Darcy had been a guest at Netherfield Park for.
After very little coaxing on her part, Elizabeth was told of how Mr Wickham had been denied the living bequeathed to him in his Godfather's, the late Mr Darcy's, will. As a result of the present Mr Darcy's jealousy and spite, the young man was now reduced to earning a living by taking a commission with the militia.
Elizabeth struggled to reconcile the version of the man portrayed to her in Mr Wickham's sorrowful account with the kind-hearted, tender gentleman she had spent the afternoon with a few days prior.
"Good heavens! But how could that be?" She said when he had reached his conclusion, "Could you not seek legal redress, or does he have family you could perhaps apply to, to encourage him to be more reasonable? I had heard he had an Earl for an uncle." Elizabeth could not believe Mr Darcy could not be persuaded if indeed he was in the wrong.
Wickham's face paled at the mention of the Earl of Matlock and swiftly denied that they would be willing to help. "I do so dislike speaking ill of those whom my Godfather held in such high regard, but the Fitzwilliam family are as arrogant as the Darcy's. They would not lower themselves to help someone as humble as I."
At this declaration, Elizabeth knew she could not fully trust the story she had been told by the seemingly charming officer. There was nobody she knew, bar Jane, who was as well thought of as her cousin, Walker Fitzwilliam, Viscount Westerleigh. Richard, whilst often brash and loud, was always honourable. Mr Wickham's slander of her beloved relatives cast a shadow over his tale which left her in doubt of its reliability.
Had he not made such claims, she would have been in real danger of believing all that he had said and reverting to her earlier ill opinion of Mr Darcy. As it stood, she now thought that she must find a way to warn the gentleman that someone from his past was spreading rumours about him, maybe he could then take the opportunity to correct the false information before his reputation was further damaged in the eyes of the neighbourhood.
The following day Elizabeth relayed much of what had transpired between herself and the two gentlemen to her sister Jane. She told her a watered-down version of the account of what transpired with the carriage accident (for Jane did not wish to know the details), she spoke of her altered opinion of Mr Darcy and the contrasting portrait of him painted by Mr Wickham.
Jane attempted, as she usually did, to make it so both men were in the right. Surely there was a misunderstanding which could explain what Mr Wickham had relayed. He was probably soured by his own poor experience which coloured his version of events. Elizabeth knew not what to think, but she was inclined to give the benefit of the doubt to Mr Darcy; he had proven himself every bit the honourable gentleman during their recent meeting and she did not want to allow a stranger to taint that encounter for her without further investigation.
A few days after the card party, Mr and Miss Bingley, along with Mr Darcy, called upon the Longbourn residents to personally invite them to a ball he had decided to host at Netherfield a few weeks hence. Mr Collins, eager to make it known to those in attendance where his interests lay, was quick to seek Jane Bennet's first set for dancing. Mr Bingley was clearly dejected but asked for her supper set as a consolation before Jane could even reply to Mr Collins's request.
Darcy spent the duration of the call appearing to be staring out of the window of Longbourn's drawing room. In reality, he was discretely watching Elizabeth through the reflections in the glass. Mr Bennet was present for their call and his cousin's warning not to draw undue attention to his attraction to the young lady was repeating loudly in his head. Lizzie had not realised this tactic and found herself silently huffing to herself whenever she let her gaze wander to the gentleman during the course of the visit.
The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely agreeable to the female inhabitants of Longbourn. Mrs Bennet chose to consider it as given in compliment to her own eldest daughter, Mary, though there was absolutely no evidence to support such a claim. Mr Collins, after so promptly securing the hand of Jane for the first set, proceeded to gallantly asked both Elizabeth and Mary for a set each.
From the day the invitation was issued until the morning of the ball there was such a succession of rain as to prevent any of the household from walking into Meryton – the very shoe-roses for the ball were got by proxy. Elizabeth found the lack of freedom to escape on her daily walks and the absence of a chance to speak with Mr Darcy a trial to endure, but endure it she did. Soon enough the day of the ball dawned.