"Darce, consider this – if Miss Elizabeth is staring at you as you stare at her, could it not be for the same reasons?" Mr. Bingley's words echoed in his head. While he could acknowledge he did, in fact, gaze upon Miss Elizabeth with great frequency and intensity, Mr. Darcy could not acknowledge the reasons he did so. Oh, he knew the reasons, he just did not wish to acknowledge them, for to acknowledge them would only prompt a battle within himself between duty and desire.
Mr. Bingley's words did arouse his curiosity, though. He would need to see if there was any validity in his friend's conjecture before he allowed his mind free rein. If Elizabeth did not share the same motivations, then any further action would be unnecessary. Not that he doubted she favored him, it was only a matter of confirming the nuance of the fact. While Darcy knew he was an eligible specimen, he believed his healthy ego was supported by objective truth. He was intelligent, wealthy, and well-placed in the ton as well as being graced with an attractive physical presence. However, he would need to ascertain whether she favored the idea of Fitzwilliam Darcy or the actual man.
Until that moment, he had proceeded cautiously so as not to encourage expectations, but what would happen if he did, he wondered. He walked quickly to where Elizabeth was speaking with Mr. Collins and Mary. The younger girl quickly excused herself. Mr. Darcy hardly took notice for the grateful relief on Elizabeth's face was in stark contrast to the pained expression she had worn only seconds ago. Before either of them could speak, Mr. Collins stepped in closer than was necessary.
"Mr. Darcy, we have not had the chance to speak. I learned only today you are the nephew of my noble patroness Lady Catherine De Bourgh. You will excuse me for not paying my respects before as not only was I unaware of your connection, but I am also seeking to complete a most important chore that noble lady has tasked me with," he said smugly as his gaze landed on Elizabeth in a proprietary manner. Elizabeth made no effort to mask the disgust on her face and it looked as though she was on the verge of being physically ill.
Mr. Darcy's heart suddenly dropped into his stomach, aware of Mr. Collin's implication, for he took no care to be discreet. This buffoon could not possibly be expecting an attachment with Elizabeth. In that instant, Mr. Darcy fully recognized his reasons for staring and his dueling futures flashed before him. One was a future with Elizabeth, full of clever conversation, challenging smiles, laughter, and warmth. Without her, he would marry a respectable woman of the ton and embark on a respectable marriage. It did not bear thinking of what a marriage between Elizabeth and Mr. Collins would look like, or Elizabeth and anyone else for that matter.
Not for the first time, when it pertained to Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy spoke without thinking. "Mr. Collins, I find your last statement objectionable." Mr. Darcy's displeasure was obvious.
Mr. Collins blinked in surprise as it was clearly not the response he was expecting. His eyes practically rolled back in his head as he went back over what he had just said. "Yes, of course. It is indiscreet to speak of our betrothal in company as I have not yet spoken with her father. I apologize Mr. Darcy."
"Yes, it was indiscreet, but I was speaking of the sentiment itself, which is utter tosh. I have never heard such blather."
"But her mother—"
"Does not speak for her, but then nor do I. Have you spoken to her father? Until you have the agreement of both the lady and her father you should remain silent on the matter." He expected his comment would capture Elizabeth's attention and was not surprised in this instance to meet her eyes. However, he was surprised by the open admiration in her gaze. "Miss Elizabeth are you comfortable with the attentions of Mr. Collins and statements being made on your behalf? If you tell me I am being officious, I will humbly withdraw and leave you to your, um, him," Mr. Darcy gestured dismissively toward Mr. Collins.
Elizabeth was unable to respond as Mr. Collins plowed forward. "It is just a matter of time, Mr. Darcy."
"Is it? Have you been given any indication that your attentions are welcome? And though I have never sought to secure the hand of a lady, but I cannot imagine a worse prelude than to declare that coming to an understanding with one's future wife was a "chore" one was tasked with by Lady Catherine De Bourgh."
"I am heir to her father's estate. I need not worry about such things," sputtered Mr. Collins in indignation.
"I was the heir as well, and now my father's estate is mine. Even I do not presume I may have any one I wish for my wife. You presume too much."
"But Lady Catherine—"
"Please do not continue, Mr. Collins. I caution you against granting my aunt too much authority over your existence. I fear you are under a grave misapprehension if you believe you must carry out her orders against your own wishes. Lady Catherine may expect servility, but she does not respect it. Be your own man and you will be happier for it. She cannot release you from the living."
"I must speak with Mr. Bennet," Mr. Collins bustled away from them without excusing himself.
"That was amazing," whispered Elizabeth as they both watched the man go in search of Mr. Bennet.
"Pardon me, Miss Elizabeth, I could not make out what you said. Can you repeat it?"
"I said that that, I mean, I just thought that…thank you, Mr. Darcy. If you will excuse me, I must find Jane," she too bustled away from him.
Mr. Darcy realized he must delay his questions for another time. Just as well, he thought. He hoped his friend was ready to leave soon. It had been a very strange day.