Chapter 11

Miss Bingley frowned at the express her brother had just received and was opening. She instantly recognized the hand as that of Darcy and had quickly taken it from the butler when he announced an express for her brother, flipped it to open it, paying attention to nothing else about it. Before she had been able to open it, her brother had removed it from her hands with a frown as she had started to break the seal. Seeing the happy smile break out across her brother's features followed by a frown, she demanded wapishly, "Well? What does Mr. Darcy write, Charles?"

"He writes that he was wrong about Miss Bennet's indifference to me and suggest I make haste to Hertfordshire. Her cousin, he claims, may have intentions toward her," Bingley told his sister. "I shall leave at once."

"Nonsense, Charles. What's this? As a woman I know these things. Jane Bennet had no true affection for you and the Bennet's parson cousin was planning on offering for Miss Eliza with her fine eyes and quaint witticisms," Miss Bingley said with a sneer. She frowned as she wondered what Mr. Darcy was about telling her brother thay he should return to Hertfordshire. Had not they, she thought in displeasure, agreed it would be best if Charles forgot about Jane Bennet? A connection to the Benents would not do at all, especially with the way Darcy looked at the second eldest, Miss Bingley thought with worry. "Besides you cannot go haring off to the country, you have promised to escort me to my engagements this week," she reminded her brother.

Bingley glanced down at the post script his friend had included. The post script he had not shared with his sister. In Darcy's firm hand was written the words, Do not allow Miss Bingley to disuade you from your return to Netherfield. I will be marrying Elizabeth whether Miss Bingley schemes against you or not. Her true reason for keeping you from Hertfordshire is to keep me from Elizabeth, a failed plan at best that could cost you your happiness if you care for Miss Bennet.

...

He had done quite well, Darcy thought with satisfaction. Elizabeth had spoken to him. They had still debated, and while she still teased him, her words were not as sharp. He did not think he could possibly love Elizabeth more then he already did, but her softer attitude showed him that he could fall more in love with her and desire her even more. If she had been like this to him in Hertfordshire, he never would have managed to leave without gaining her hand in marriage. He had been ready to propose before, but now, this friendlier Elizabeth he knew he needed as much as man needs sustance. Her playfullness eased his own manner. He had a desire to please her that he realized instantly made him more approachable. Wryly he thought to himself, that while she no longer exhibited disdain toward him, she did not encourage him yet either. If she had offered any sort of affectionate encouragement, softer manner, or natural inclination to him such as taking his arm without his offering it, he would have been dropping to one knee in Hertfordshire in an instant. Now while she did those things, he recognized it has her open nature and not a mark of her regard for him yet. He truly was powerless to resit her, as the fact that he had fallen in love with her with no encouragement on her part showed.

He adored her impertinace, but he cherished her compassionate heart. She might claim her elder sister saw only the good in everyone and was kind to all, but Darcy saw what Elizabeth did not. That Elizabeth saw the follies of others and was still able to be kind, something more worth marveling at in his eyes. To be kind when one only saw goodness was fine enough, but to be kind when one saw more was true kindness. Even when she disdained him, she was still kind though she did not consider herself to be such. What she considered ill treatment was kinder then any other lady's that he knew of. She was such a mixture of archness, sweetness and compassion that she undid him. After dinner she had announced she owed him an apology and apologized to him for her prejudice and blindness that led to her supposed ill treatment of him previously. He had stared down at her in complete suprise. She owed him no apology, it was him that owed her an apology, he had argued. Afterall she merely reacted to his own poor treatment of her, something he heartily regretted.

Earlier upon their return to the inn they had agreed to begin anew and Darcy had playfully demanded Sutton introduce him to such a beautiful young lady and then requested Elizabeth's hand for a dance, despite the lack of music. Elizabeth had laughed and curtsied to him, her eyebrow raised in challenge. Darcy had bowed back, and seeing what they were about his aunt had laughingly hummed a short tune. He had been reluctant to relinquish Elizabeth after their short impromptu dance, but attempted to do so with more grace then disgruntlement when his aunt invited Elizabeth to join her in refreshing themselves before dinner.

…

As Elizabeth laid her head down that night a smile graced her lips. On her walks she often hummed and glided through the fields with an invisible dance partner, but she never would have expected Mr. Darcy to wish to dance with her in a small unassuming inn yard. She had also noted that Darcy was courteous to the inn keeper and the other servants. An attitude she found very pleasing. With Lady Matlock's words earlier in the day ringing in her ears, she had paid more attention then she otherwise would have to everything he did. She blushed to admit it, but what she had observed, once she was looking unblinded by her previous prejudice, was a man she could admire. She had also realized she owed him an apology and made one post-haste.

…

Collins was very pleased indeed. Not only was his patroness pleased with his choice of wife, as he knew she would be once he described Elizabeth to her, she was willing to pay for a common license so he need not wait for the banns to be read to begin enjoying his bride. He looked forward to taking Elizabeth multiple times a day to ensure she became with child as his patroness wished. It was, he thought gleefully, a duty he would be happy to fufill over and over again. His cousin Elizabeth, he thought to himself, was not the type to lay submissively under him, but he would enjoy the feel of her soft skin and curves beneath him as he found his pleasure doing his duty. His father had long since instilled in him the desire to force those he considered weaker to his will as an example of his own manliness. Once he forced the spirited beauty of Elizabeth Bennet to his will, no one, including his father if he had lived, would have cause to find William Collins less then a man's man, he thought savagely to himself.