Welcome, dear friends! Here is another chapter for you - a bit of filler, perhaps, but I promise you I have something exciting coming up for you in chapter 12 or 13. I did have to use some of Jane's own words in this chapter, but I did try to make some subtle changes where I could. But sometimes, only the original will do. :)
My heartfelt thanks, as always, to everyone reading along, and especially those of you who leave me a few words. I'm so very chuffed you are enjoying the story so much!
Chapter Eleven
Jane was not the only one anxious about tonight's dinner party.
Elizabeth knew that her sister was nervous about showing too much affection for her "dear Morland" before Mr. Bingley, though she had told Jane she should not hide her feelings. It had been so wonderful to see Jane so happy these last few days, knowing she would soon be married. That Morland and Catherine had come to call only an hour after their arriving back in Hertfordshire was telling of his own eagerness to be reunited with his future bride. James had brought good news from his parents, which greatly relieved Mrs. Bennet's nerves.
For herself, she was not looking forward to seeing Mr. Darcy…and yet was intensely eager to at the same time. For a second time since their meeting, she'd found herself needing to apologize for her temper, and that made her more than a little uncomfortable.
But oh! What news she would have for him if they could manage to speak rationally… The night before, at a dinner party hosted by her Aunt and Uncle Phillips, she had been at last introduced to the infamous Mr. Wickham. Her sisters had all had nothing but kind things to say of him—Kitty and Lydia especially. He was "so handsome and so charming, and sure to be the best at everything."
Wickham did, admittedly, have a very fine person. His face was pleasing to look at and his smile charming, and he had the most excellent manners. Elizabeth would have claimed him to be one of the most amiable young men of her acquaintance if she did not know him for what he really was. Observing him from across the room at one point in the evening, she had thought to herself how very practiced his amiable character was, and she wondered if he ever found it exhausting to be so false all the time.
Shortly after making that observation, he had approached where she rested on a sofa and asked if he might join her. Elizabeth was not particularly willing to entertain him, but could hardly refuse without giving some reason; after her acquiescence was given, he sat in a chair adjacent to her. She wondered if he would speak of Darcy, if he even knew him to be in the country. Her curiosity as to whether he would mention his history with his former friend was soon satisfied when he began the subject by asking in a light, casual manner as to the distance betwixt Netherfield and Meryton. When she had given her answer he nodded once, then inquired as to how long Darcy and his sister had been staying there.
"About a month," said she, then unable to resist baiting him to see how much further he might take the subject, added, "He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I understand."
"Yes," replied Mr. Wickham. "His estate there is a noble one—a clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself, for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy."
Elizabeth feigned a look of surprise. "From infancy?"
Again Mr. Wickham nodded. His gaze roamed over her countenance before he asked, "Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?"
"As much as I ever wish to be," cried Elizabeth very warmly, her thoughts returning to their argument. "He can be very disagreeable."
"And his sister?"
She could not but be truthful, and said she liked Miss Darcy very much indeed.
Wickham smiled slightly. "I should have known it was she in that coach you rode past in yesterday; I did think the livery of the driver and footman very familiar. Your eldest sister informed us only a moment after it went by that she had just seen you in the Darcy coach and was certain she had glimpsed Miss Darcy as well. I must admit, I was relieved to hear it was Miss Darcy you were with and not her brother, for she is an amiable girl, though he…"
He looked around as he paused, then leaned forward. Elizabeth, sensing he might be about to reveal some confidence, sat likewise. Wickham went on to relate to her a rather different version of the circumstances regarding the living Darcy had told her of. He claimed himself both godson and favorite of old Mr. Darcy, and the object of intense jealousy on behalf of the younger.
"I cannot accuse myself of having really done anything to deserve to lose the living," said Wickham with a sigh. "Though I do have a warm, unguarded temper, and perhaps may have spoken my opinion of him, and to him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is that we are very different sort of men and he hates me."
Nothing worse indeed, mused Elizabeth, hoping that her countenance did not betray her thoughts. You only lied to an impressionable fifteen-year-old girl and meant to elope with her for her fortune.
Lest she give away that she saw through his charade—and feeling no small measure of guilt in the doing—she then proceeded to abuse Darcy herself, to the point of accusing him of malicious revenge, injustice, and inhumanity towards Wickham. She spoke of his "abominable pride", to which Wickham replied "It has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his money freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the poor. Family pride, and filial pride—for he is very proud of what his father was—have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He has also brotherly pride, which, with some brotherly affection, makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his sister, and you will hear him generally cried up as the most attentive and best of brothers."
If nothing else he said had been true, Elizabeth knew herself that his last statement was. She had often observed Darcy with his sister and had witnessed firsthand their deep fondness for each other. And really, did he not truly care for Georgiana and wish to see her protected, he would not have gone so far as to demand a second promise of confidence.
On realizing this, Elizabeth felt her enmity dissipate. Though she still thought the request unreasonable, she understood the motivation behind it and so could forgive him the asking. Though after having such an epiphany, she'd found it increasingly difficult to join Wickham in speaking ill of Darcy. She began to hope—perhaps for the first time ever—that one of her younger sisters would give her reason to excuse herself, but though Lydia and Kitty laughed and talked a little too loudly, they were somewhat more restrained than was their wont. Elizabeth reasoned it was due to their needing to concentrate on the games they were then playing.
The discourse between herself and Wickham changed direction slightly when suddenly Mr. Collins, who sat to whist with her aunt at the nearest card table, mentioned his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. This caught Wickham's attention, and he had turned to Elizabeth to ask how intimately her cousin was acquainted with the family. She replied that Lady Catherine had recently given her cousin a living, though she knew not how they had been introduced and believed that he had not known the lady long.
It was then that Wickham revealed something astonishing: Lady Catherine was Mr. Darcy's aunt, and he claimed it generally believed that her daughter and Darcy would unite their great fortunes by marriage. Elizabeth had smiled, thinking of Miss Bingley and her vain attempts to gain Darcy's affections for herself…and was hard-pressed not to allow that smile to falter when she realized that being as good as engaged to his cousin meant he could not possibly be entertaining any thoughts of an attachment to her.
Catherine had to be wrong on that score, that was all there was to it.
"Mr. Collins," said she haltingly, "speaks highly both of Lady Catherine and her daughter; but from some particulars that he has related of her ladyship, I suspect his gratitude misleads him, and that in spite of her being his patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited woman."
"I believe her to be both in a great degree," replied Wickham. "I have not seen her for many years, of course, but I remember very well that I never liked her, and that her manners were dictatorial and insolent. She has the reputation of being remarkably sensible and clever; but I rather believe she derives part of her abilities from her rank and fortune, part from her authoritative manner, and the rest from the pride of her nephew, who chooses that everyone connected with him should have an understanding of the first class."
Elizabeth allowed that he had given a very rational account of it, and finding herself now thoroughly uncomfortable with the subject of Darcy and his family began to wish that supper would soon be announced. In short order it was; cards were at an end at last, giving the rest of the ladies present their share of Mr. Wickham's attentions. Elizabeth was relieved to be free of him but found her mind so occupied with all they had talked of that she hardly said a word throughout the meal. The family's journey home gave her no moment to speak even had she wished to, for neither Lydia nor Mr. Collins were once silent. She had taken to her bed almost immediately on entering the house, feeling the pressure of a headache beginning behind her eyes.
And something akin to heartache beginning beneath her breast.
Now, in mere moments, the whole of the Netherfield party would be arriving to share a family meal. Colonel Forster and a few of his officers were already in the drawing room; thankfully, Wickham was not among them. Lydia, on questioning Mr. Denny as to where his friend was, learnt that Wickham had been ordered to remain behind by their commander.
"Colonel Forster had visitors, you see," Denny replied to her sister's enquiry. "That Mr. Darcy fellow, and a gent in regimentals like our own—I heard tell they were cousins. As it was, not as soon as they'd gone did the colonel call for Wickham to attend him, and when he returned to our tent—none too pleased, I might say—Wickham said he'd been given orders not to leave the camp tonight."
"Poor fellow!" Lydia cried. "How dreadful for him, for we will all have such a time together as we did last night!"
Elizabeth was intrigued by this revelation and wandered away to ponder it. Who was this cousin Darcy had been with, and what could they have said—without revealing the whole truth as regarded Miss Darcy, for surely that had not passed her brother's lips—that would lead Colonel Forster to restrict Wickham to the militia's camp?
The Lucases were the next to arrive, and Colonel Forster's attentions were immediately given over to Charlotte. The way her friend blushed and smiled and the way Sir William looked a little too pleased with himself led Elizabeth to begin suspecting that the colonel had settled on her friend for his choice of bride. Oh, how she hoped it were so! Charlotte was the most amiable creature she knew aside from Jane, and though not exactly young—as well as commonly thought to be plain—she was healthy and hardy, and to Elizabeth's mind perfectly suited to being a military man's wife. She had, after all, had the management of her younger siblings for many years, and the youngest Lucas boys could certainly be a rowdy bunch.
When the Netherfield party arrived at last, Bingley and Morland both were quick to offer their sincerest apologies for the lateness of their arrival. "Two horses threw a shoe, if you can believe that!" said Bingley.
"Indeed," said Morland. "One of his and one of ours!"
"Well, nevermind all that," said Mrs. Bennet. "What's important is that you are here! Jane especially is so very happy to see you, Mr. Morland."
Jane blushed at her mother's words, while her fiancé grinned. Bingley, much to Elizabeth's relief, did not seem at all distressed by the adoring expressions they favored one another with—either that, or he was more adept at concealing his emotions than he had heretofore led anyone to believe.
Darcy then begged the pardon of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet for adding an unexpected member to the party before he introduced his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. "He came to call most unexpectedly, you see, and as we were engaged to dine with you all, I could not remain behind to entertain him."
"Truth be told, Mrs. Bennet," said Fitzwilliam with a grin, "I cannot stand to be alone in a strange house, so begged leave to join my cousin and his friends. Though we are not yet acquainted, I humbly pray you will grant me leave to join your most excellent company tonight."
Elizabeth bit her lip so as not to laugh at the way her mother blushed and giggled like a young girl, though her father had no such scruples and laughed aloud. "You are most welcome to join us, Colonel Fitzwilliam," said the latter, "though I daresay there may be some confusion should anyone here simply call out 'Colonel!'—you and Forster both will turn your heads!"
The two colonels laughed, as did several of the others. Mrs. Bennet then excused herself to go and check on the preparations for dinner and quit the room, and conversation between the various groups of guests resumed.
"My dear Elizabeth!" said Georgiana as she came up to her, Darcy and Fitzwilliam following a few steps behind. The younger girl leaned close as she took Elizabeth's hands and said, "I am so very relieved that a certain person is not in attendance tonight—I do not know that I could have borne it if your mother had invited him!"
Elizabeth smiled at her, and modulated her voice accordingly before replying, "In fact, she did. But I have it on authority from Mr. Denny—that officer my sister Lydia is at present latched onto—that Colonel Forster ordered him to remain at the camp this evening."
"I wonder why? But it does not matter, I am glad he is not here," Georgiana replied.
"It would be our doing, Georgie," said Fitzwilliam. "That ne'er-do-well is the reason I am in Hertfordshire, after all."
Georgiana narrowed her eyes as she gazed between her cousin and her brother. "You said you came to see me and Fitzwilliam."
"I regret that I spoke only a partial truth earlier, dearest, given your friends the Morlands were so close by. Now, will you do me the honor of introducing me to your pretty friend?"
"Oh, of course! Lizzy, may I present my cousin, Colonel Theodore Fitzwilliam. Theodore, Miss Elizabeth Bennet."
Elizabeth curtsied, then regarded the colonel with a discerning eye. "So… You must be the 'gent in regimentals' Denny spoke of."
"I am indeed," Fitzwilliam replied with a grin as he placed his hands behind he back. "And you are the Miss Bennet to whom I also owe gratitude for giving comfort to my cousin when she was so overcome on Tuesday morn."
He glanced sidelong at Darcy and lifted an eyebrow. "You didn't tell me, Darce, that she was so lovely a creature."
Elizabeth was certain Darcy was suppressing a growl when she glanced at him, and tried not to let that suspicion make her happy. Why should he be affected by his cousin's appreciation of her, if he was promised to another cousin?
"I did not consider the lady's beauty a factor in her assistance to Georgiana," he said stiffly.
"Whatever the case may be," said Elizabeth over Fitzwilliam's answering snicker, "I should like you both to know that not only was I happy to comfort her, as Miss Darcy is already a dear friend, but that I shall not speak of what I know to anyone. Miss Darcy's secret is safe with me."
The last she said with a pointed look in Darcy's direction; he acknowledged her offering the promise with an incline of his head.
A commotion across the room then caught Elizabeth's attention. Mr. Collins' expression had brightened on hearing the name of Darcy's cousin when he was first introduced; he was now attempting to move their way, with Mary actively attempting to restrain him.
"But they are near relations of my patroness—oh, how wonderfully these sort of things occur! Who would have thought of my meeting with, perhaps, a nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh at such a gathering, let alone two! I am most thankful that the discovery is made in time for me to pay my respects to him, which I am now going to do, and trust he will excuse my not having done it before. My total ignorance of the connection must plead my apology."
"You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy or Colonel Fitzwilliam!" Mary cried.
"Indeed I am. I shall entreat their pardon for not having done so at once. I believe them to be Lady Catherine's nephews. It will be in my power to assure them that her ladyship was quite well yesterday se'nnight."
Mary tried hard to dissuade him from such a scheme, assuring him that Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam would consider his addressing them without introduction as an impertinent freedom, rather than a compliment to their aunt; that it was not in the least necessary there should be any notice on either side; and that if it were, it must belong to the gentlemen who were superior in consequence to begin the acquaintance.
Mr. Collins listened to her with the determined air of following his own inclination, and, when she ceased speaking, replied that he believed there to be difference in the forms of ceremony amongst the laity and those which governed the clergy—and to Elizabeth's shock, equated his position as equal to the highest rank in the kingdom "provided an appropriate humility of behavior is maintained." He went on to say that he believed introducing himself to their guests to be a point of duty, excused himself for not following her advice, then thoroughly insulted her sister by suggesting that he was more fitted by his education and habits of study to decide on what was right than a young lady like herself.
Elizabeth was filled with angry mortification at such behavior; the subtle changes in the expressions of her companions told her they had likewise heard Mr. Collins' speech. Darcy was vexed, his sister shocked, and the colonel amused. And though she did not much care for her father's cousin, she could not but consider how his unsolicited attentions would reflect on her family, and determined to salvage the situation as best she could.
As he opened his mouth to begin introducing himself, she pretended to just take notice of him and gave him welcome. Collins' eyes widened, then his jaw snapped shut and his brow furrowed in a frown as she proceeded to present him to the Darcys and their cousin. A small part of Elizabeth was gratified to have thwarted his arrogance and self-gratification as she gave their names to him. Mr. Collins recovered quickly and offered his greetings, assured the three "honored guests" that their aunt was "in the best of health" when last he'd seen her, and that her daughter Miss de Bourgh—"Who I understand from my esteemed patroness is to be your bride, Mr. Darcy—"
Darcy's countenance immediately showed how displeased he was with this assumption, and was enough to make Mr. Collins fall silent. "Sir," he said stiffly, "whilst I have, of course, the greatest respect for my aunt and her daughter, I have none for those who bandy about the nonsensical idea of the former that I shall marry the latter. Miss de Bourgh and I are not engaged, nor shall we ever be. I trust that you will not speak of this matter further to anyone."
While Mr. Collins stuttered his apologies and attempted to assure Darcy that he would do as instructed, two thoughts occurred to Elizabeth: One, that he most assuredly would speak of it to Lady Catherine herself, either in a letter or when next he saw her. Two, that she herself was more pleased by the revelation that Darcy was not engaged to his cousin than she should be. After all, his not being engaged to Miss de Bourgh did not mean he had any designs of forming a serious attachment to her.
Besides, he had such an annoying habit of infuriating her. Being quite handsome and conveniently rich did not abate that unavoidable fact.
When at last the party sat to table, Elizabeth was greatly relieved that the seating was not formal; while her mother often followed the tradition of seating all the men at the hostess's end and all the ladies at the host's end of the table, as the party began to file inside the dining room, she happily said, "There are so many of us gathered together, I shan't presume to tell you all where to sit—please, choose whichever place that you like best!"
Having said that, she did take her place at one end while Mr. Bennet sat to the other. It was no surprise to Elizabeth that the couples—both confirmed and not—either sat next to or across from each other. Miss Bingley contrived to sit near to Colonel Fitzwilliam, but he placed himself between James Morland and Darcy; she could not sit next to Darcy as he pulled that chair out for his sister. Though she felt rather silly for behaving in such a manner, Elizabeth took Catherine by the arm and quickly walked round the table to sit, putting Catherine across from the Colonel and herself across from Darcy—and much to her relief, Kitty quickly claimed the chair on her left.
As she scooted to the table, Elizabeth glanced up and saw that the corner of Darcy's mouth was lifted in a half grin; he knew what she'd been about, and confirmed this supposition by mouthing the words "thank you". She could not help the answering grin that turned up her own lips.
The dinner was splendid and the company most charming. There was very little else to distress or vex Elizabeth about the evening, and she was in a fair way of being immeasurably pleased. She and Darcy might not be suited to being more than friends, but she was certain they would remain friends even after he eventually left the country, for they conversed as naturally as ever they had before. His cousin she found to be a delight, and if she were not mistaken, his eye bore an appreciative glint for Catherine Morland. Her friend was fascinated by his tales of army life, which Colonel Fitzwilliam had a ready supply of.
She only hoped that the colonel appreciated Catherine equally, for herself and not her fortune, as so many of the young men in Meryton had done.
Elizabeth was happy indeed, until suddenly Lydia cried out, "Mr. Bingley, you must hold a ball at Netherfield!"