Author's Note: I have to say, I'm relieved that most of you enjoyed the last chapter. I was worried that that would not be the case since I kind of went off script. Although Mr. Collins' Easter sermon had always been in the cards, I had never planned on bringing Mrs. Potts' into the melee. So, I'm really glad it went over well enough, though a few of you did question the believability of a servant threatening Elizabeth. And under normal circumstances I would wholly agree with them. However, I think that we can all agree that Elizabeth's circumstances at present are far from the norm. For Mr. Collins, foolishly believing that Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam should (once the heat of the moment had passed, and sound logic has returned), come to understand their error in judgement, had set about propagating his own version of the infamous events. A version which not only reflects poorly upon Elizabeth, but diminishes her to little more than a grasping jezebel in Mrs. Potts' eyes. And in Regency England (lest one possesses the financial means to wash one's sins clean or the consequence necessary to compel the willful ignorance of others), a harlot (whether in truth or in fabrication), remains a harlot (and therefore beneath the dignity of even the common servant). So, although I do agree that a servant is unlikely to so abuse a respectable young gentlewoman, I cannot so readily agree that a servant is unlikely to abuse a young gentlewoman of ill-repute (especially when said young gentlewoman should seek to threaten the long-awaited union of Mr. Darcy and Miss. de Bourgh).
As for Mr. Collins, though he is indeed a foolish sycophant unworthy of respect, he is a fool in a parson's collar. And as such, by virtue of his position as a symbol of the Church, he commands the respect of his parishioners, though he little deserves it. Thus, as appalling as it may seem, unless an individual of greater consequence and authority (e.i. Mr. Darcy or Colonel Fitzwilliam) challenge Mr. Collins claims, his lies are naturally accepted as truth based solely upon the influence of his parson's collar...
But worry not, gentle reader. You will soon find that the tides have irrevocably turned. Indeed, I hope the following chapter shall leave quite the impression on you all. Given that, I beg of you, please review or even drop me a PM. I really want to know what you guys think of this one. Especially since, I'm quite convinced, that many of you have been champing at the bit for what is to come...
As always, enjoy!
Mr. Collins' Easter
By Winterspell1812
Chapter 9
Arriving at the parsonage several minutes later, Elizabeth Bennet did not pause to remove her pelisse. Determined to remove herself from the premises before Mr. Collins had the distinct pleasure of throwing her out, she moved directly towards the staircase. Before the young gentlewoman could ascend, however, she was arrested by the sound of a loud clunk from up above. Espying her valise descending the staircase at a rapid pace, Elizabeth had but a moment to remove herself from the proverbial line of fire. Thus, with a hard thud, the valise alighted upon the foot of the staircase; the latch failing to uphold its purpose under such duress and the contents within scattering themselves upon the floor. Aghast, Miss. Elizabeth looked up to find Mrs. Potts upon the landing, evidently displeased that the valise had not struck her as it made its descent.
"Mrs. Potts!" Elizabeth exclaimed, appalled by the cook's actions. "How could you do such a thing? You might have well struck me if I had not stepped away in time! And this is to say nothing of the blatant disrespect you have shown me and my possessions."
Descending the staircase, Mrs. Potts snorted. "I've only done as the master bid me to. You are no longer welcome in his home, says he, and bids me to do away with your belongings as I see fit," the cook said, as she reached the foot of the staircase. Thus, finding the valise very much in her way, Mrs. Potts added insult to injury and kicked the crooked husk that had once been Elizabeth's valise off to the side. "And given that you are naught but a grasping tart, wishing to better yourself at the expense of others," the cook snarled, "I see no need to offer deference to either you or your effects!"
Gasping at the insult, a flushed Elizabeth glared at the dreadful servant. Before she could rightly chastise the old woman, however, a great, booming voice rang out.
"Mrs. Potts!" Mr. Darcy snarled from behind Elizabeth. "What is the meaning of this?"
Startled, the cook looked upon the gentleman with wide eyes. "Mr. Darcy, sir!" she cried out. "Whatever do you mean, sir?"
"How dare you?" Mr. Darcy hissed. "How dare you treat poor Miss. Elizabeth in such an abominable fashion? She is a guest in your master's home, madam. As such, she is owed every consideration on your part. You have no right to address her in such a disrespectful manner, much less so to toss about her possessions as you see fit!"
"But…" the cook stuttered, "I –"
"Enough!" the gentleman cried, bending down to gather Elizabeth's scattered effects.
Startled by the sight of Mr. Darcy handling her petticoats, a blushing Elizabeth knelt down and returned her underthings to her valise as discreetly as she could given the circumstances. As she did so, however, Elizabeth began to notice that something was amiss. Frowning, she rustled about the meagre contents of her valise, trying to convince herself that she was mistaken.
Observing Miss. Elizabeth's growing distress, Mr. Darcy frowned. As she began methodically searching the contents of the valise, however, the gentleman grew alarmed.
"Whatever could be the matter, Miss. Elizabeth?" Mr. Darcy asked from behind her.
Tilting her head to gaze over her shoulder, Elizabeth made to answer, but was arrested by the proximity of Mr. Darcy's features. Indeed, in turning towards the gentleman, Elizabeth's lips very nearly met Mr. Darcy's own. Thus, with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, Elizabeth lurched back, upsetting her balance in the process. Wobbling precariously, the young gentlewoman would have most likely ended up falling back upon her bottom. Noting her distress, however, Mr. Darcy reached his arm around her to steady her. Pressed against the gentleman, Elizabeth gasped as, once more, their features returned within close proximity of one and other. This time, however, she made no attempt to separate them. Instead, her wide eyes traced the contours of his handsome features; from his dark hair, dishevelled from the wind, to his aristocratic nose, and finally, to his cupid's bow...
"Miss. Elizabeth?" Mr. Darcy repeated, frowning.
Startling from her reverie, a blushing Elizabeth averted her eyes from Mr. Darcy's handsome features. Chastising herself for her inexplicable thoughts, she returned her gaze to her valise, contemplating once more the most recent offence committed against her. Thus, suspecting the culprit, Elizabeth turned her eyes towards Mrs. Potts. The old cook, standing at the foot of the staircase still, had now been joined by the maid of all trades.
A young girl of no more than sixteen summers, Daisy looked upon the unfolding scene with poorly feigned indifference.
"It seems," Elizabeth began, scowling, "that during their short journey from the guest room to the landing of the staircase, several of my effects have seen fit to disappear from my valise."
At this pronouncement, Mr. Darcy gazed upon Miss. Elizabeth in astonishment.
"That is a lie, I say," the hapless old cook stuttered, her pale features and nervous fidgeting betraying her. But, having by now perceived that all was not as she had been led to believe, Mrs. Potts had begun to worry that her offences against Miss. Bennet would see her lose her livelihood. Thus made desperate, the old woman attempted to prevaricate, unwilling to admit her fault before the Great Lady Catherine de Bourgh's nephew.
Appalled, the gentleman (much to Elizabeth's mortification), momentarily riffled through the valise's meagre contents, his handsome features flushing red in his growing state of her anger. Finally, brandishing a pale blue bonnet, Mr. Darcy rose to stand, looking upon Mrs. Potts in abhorrence. "Do not lie to me Mrs. Potts," the gentleman hissed, angrily waving Elizabeth's bonnet about in the cook's face.
At this, the old woman shirked back, shaking her head in denial.
Scowling at Mrs. Potts' refusal to admit to her crime, Mr. Darcy snarled. "You would deny it still? Knowing that you betray yourself with every moment and that I can well see your duplicity! Madam, even I, who have not been in company with Miss. Elizabeth above a fortnight, can clearly see that she, at the very least, is missing her white bonnet, her pale blue day dress, her lavender day dress, and her green silk evening gown!"
At this, Mrs. Potts mewled most pathetically and refused to meet Mr. Darcy's gaze.
"Is aught else missing, Miss. Elizabeth?" the gentleman enquired, scowling at the cook.
Looking upon the weeping Mrs. Potts, Elizabeth sighed and stood. Though the old woman had treated her abominably ill, she could not help but to pity her – knowing that Mr. Collins owned the better part of the blame for leading Mrs. Potts astray. Still, though Elizabeth might well forgive the cook's actions, she certainly could not dismiss them, especially as doing so would place her in dire straits indeed. Thus, with a distressed shake of her head, Elizabeth revealed the full of the matter to Mr. Darcy. "As well, I am without my gloves, my yellow day dress, my blue evening gown, my copy of Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing, and my purse, along with the coins therein."
Wailing, Mrs. Potts sobbed into her dirty handkerchief.
Standing beside Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy scowled darkly and tightened his fists. Barely withholding his contempt, the gentleman extended his hand to the cook. "Miss. Elizabeth's purse, Mrs. Potts."
Blubbering, Mrs. Potts' reached into the pocket of her apron and retrieved Elizabeth's purse from within.
"The rest of her effects?" the gentleman enquired coldly.
Turning to Daisy, the cook wailed once more. Standing beside her, a red faced Daisy stared determinedly at the floor, her lips thinly pressed together.
"I see," Mr. Darcy huffed, indignant. "Daisy, fetch the remainder of Miss. Elizabeth's possessions."
Unhappy at the thought of relinquishing her bounty, however, Daisy stared sullenly at the far corner of the hall.
Purpling at the maid's audacity, Mr. Darcy snarled. "Now!"
Daisy, however, being the youngest of her siblings (and therefore quite accustomed to having her own way), was unmoved by this show of anger on the part of the gentleman. Instead, the girl proceeded to cross her arms defiantly and harrumphed with all the indignation of a self-perceived victim (and, in that one act, the maid reminded Elizabeth very much of her youngest sister, the rash and impudent Lydia).
Horrified by the display, Mrs. Potts attempted to reason with Daisy. "Listen to Mr. Darcy, girl," the cook insisted, casting a fearful eye upon that gentleman's darkening countenance.
"No," Daisy answered petulantly. "Why should I? The master said we could have whatever we wanted of Miss. Elizabeth's things," the girl revealed, causing Elizabeth to gasp at the parson's audacity. Mr. Darcy, likewise, appeared just as incensed at the revelation. "Besides," Daisy continued, oblivious to the gentleman's fraying patience with her impertinence, "Why should she have fine things when I should not? She hardly deserves them, given what the master's told us of her! She –"
"Enough!" Mr. Darcy bellowed, frightening the maid and sending Mrs. Potts into another wailing fit. "Listen girl, and listen well. You shall fetch Miss. Elizabeth's effects at once – for if you do not, I shall send for the magistrate."
"You have no right!" the maid objected, red faced. "The master gave me those things. I've done nothing wrong!"
"Listen to me you foolish girl," the gentleman hissed, "Mr. Collins had no right whatsoever to give you Miss. Elizabeth's effects. As such, when you took them for your own, you became naught but a thief in the eyes of the law! And, if you have any understanding at all, you should well know what would happen to you were I to call for the magistrate."
"But –" the girl shrieked.
Unwilling to listen any more, Mr. Darcy interrupted her. "Shall you return Miss. Elizabeth's effects, or shall I fetch the magistrate and see you put in chains?"
With a wounded wail, the maid turned away and ran up the stairs, her sobs trailing behind her. Mrs. Potts, sensing an escape, quickly followed her, promising the gentleman to see to it that the girl promptly retrieved Miss. Elizabeth's possessions.
Thus, for the second time in the space of a fortnight, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth were left very much by themselves.
Overwrought, Elizabeth knelt down by her ruined valise once more, and set about ordering the contents as best she could.
"Miss. Elizabeth…" Darcy began hesitantly, kneeling down beside her.
Turning towards the gentleman, Elizabeth found Mr. Darcy gazing upon her with such kindness – such warmth – and was perplexed by it. For, from the very first moment of their acquaintance, Elizabeth had been convinced that the gentleman not only despised her, but looked upon her only to find fault. Thus, to now find that gentleman's deep brown eyes gazing upon her with such compassion and sincerity greatly struck her. For, in her mind, Elizabeth could hardly account for such an unprecedented show of cordiality. Furthermore, in Mr. Darcy's expression, the young gentlewoman now noted a sense of warmth which flustered her, for it indicated a degree of affection which was most certainly not in keeping with Elizabeth's understanding of that gentleman's antipathy towards her.
"Miss. Elizabeth?" the gentleman gently queried.
And so, for the very first time of their acquaintance, Elizabeth began to believe that there was much more to Mr. Darcy's character than she had ever given the gentleman credit for. Indeed, gazing into his eyes, the young gentlewoman could not help but wonder if a kinder, gentler man lay hidden behind Mr. Darcy's arrogance and conceit.
Again, don't forget to review. I am eager to hear your thoughts. Especially, given all the goodies that cropped up in this chapter.