A Case of Some Delicacy Read online

  “Mr Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire?” Mr Collins asked, and after receiving confirmation, exclaimed, “How extraordinary! Lady Catherine often speaks of her nephew. Are you well acquainted with him, Mr Bingley?”

  Mr Bingley laughed. “I should say so—he is staying with us at Netherfield, and he is here tonight.” He looked about the room. “Though I know not where he is hiding. He has been rather unsociable.”

  “I left him conversing with my father in an out-of-the-way spot,” volunteered Miss Elizabeth. “They were commiserating over their shared dislike of dancing. Come, Mr Collins, I shall introduce you. Surely Mr Darcy would wish to hear any news you have of his family.”

  Mr Collins could scarce believe his luck. As he followed Miss Elizabeth across the room, he smoothed his waistcoat, which had the unfortunate tendency to bunch about his middle. Soon they came upon Mr Bennet and a tall gentleman who looked as distinguished as Mr Collins would expect of so important a person.

  “Papa,” began Miss Elizabeth, “it seems that Mr Darcy and Mr Collins have a mutual acquaintance.” Looking up at Mr Darcy, she continued cheerfully, “Mr Darcy, may I introduce Mr Collins, parson at Hunsford and grateful servant to Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”

  Mr Darcy bowed slightly, and Mr Collins bowed as low as he could in response. “Mr Darcy, it is an immense and unexpected honour to meet you! I have heard much of you from my illustrious patroness, your most esteemed aunt. I can inform you, sir, with great pleasure, that both Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh were in excellent health when I left them but four days ago. Indeed, Lady Catherine is always in excellent health, but Miss de Bourgh, as I understand it, is much improved since you last saw her.”

  Mr Darcy took a moment to digest the information. “I am glad to hear it.” After glancing at the smiling countenances of Mr Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, he asked, “How long have you served as parson at Hunsford?”

  “Your noble aunt bestowed her benevolence on me nearly four months ago, and I have endeavoured to serve her needs and the needs of my parishioners admirably since then. I am sure you could not be surprised at her great consideration of my every need as well.”

  “Oh yes, Mr Collins!” Miss Elizabeth interjected. “You must tell Mr Darcy about Lady Catherine’s many helpful ideas regarding the parsonage house, such as the shelves in the upstairs closet. I daresay Mr Darcy is desirous to hear about his aunt’s affability and condescension as he knows so few people here and is in no humour to dance.”

  Mr Collins swelled with pride that he could be of use to Mr Darcy. He was about to speak when Cousin Elizabeth added, “But I am afraid my father and I are wanted by my mother. Please excuse us—We shall leave you gentlemen to become better acquainted.”

  Mr Bennet took his daughter’s hand to lead her away, but Mr Collins could not let her go without again thanking her for the honour of meeting Mr Darcy.

  “Dear Cousin Elizabeth! I thank you for the solicitude you show on behalf of myself and Mr Darcy, indeed, of everyone around you. You are most gracious and thoughtful. Is she not, Mr Darcy?”

  The corners of Mr Darcy’s mouth turned up slightly as he replied, “Yes, Miss Elizabeth is compassion incarnate.”

  She gave a lopsided smile, which must have been an indication of her modesty. “Not at all,” she said. “I consider it my duty to make newcomers as comfortable as possible. Let it not be said that Hertfordshire society is lacking in hospitality or, most importantly, friendly manners.”

  Mr Collins bowed over her hand. She then turned to her father, who said, “Come Lizzy, let us see where else your compassion is needed tonight,” before leading her away.

  Mr Collins struck up a conversation with Mr Darcy. He made sure to mention the shelves, as Miss Elizabeth had wisely suggested. But as he prepared to move from detailing Lady Catherine’s improvements of the parsonage house to praising the grandeur of Rosings, Mr Darcy expressed his regrets at having to defer the conversation to another time for he wished to speak with his friend, Mr Bingley. He bowed quickly and walked away, leaving Mr Collins to reflect on what an excellent night he was having at the assembly.

  Taking great advantage of a warm spell in late October, Mrs Bennet planned a picnic at Longbourn to amuse the younger folk and forward all her matrimonial schemes.

  Jane blushed while conversing with Mr Bingley amongst the late-blooming roses. Elizabeth looked on, relieved. She liked Mr Bingley very much, though she cared little for the rest of his companions. His sisters, Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst, as well as their friend, Mr Darcy, clearly thought themselves above their Hertfordshire neighbours, while Mr Hurst seemed only to think of his food and drink. Usually Elizabeth would delight in observing, and later mocking, their haughty airs, but lately, she could spare no time to notice the many pointed comments of the two sisters nor the reserved silence and disconcerting stare, broken only by cold civility, of Mr Darcy. She had little interest in doing anything but diverting her visiting cousin from poor Jane.

  The days at Longbourn since the assembly had been difficult. Mr Collins was pleased to communicate at length about his position as the parson at Hunsford, particularly when he could impress upon his listener his enviable situation as the recipient of patronage from Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Despite his earlier delight in Mr Collins’s absurdity, Mr Bennet was anxious to have his library to himself again. In his library, he had always been sure of leisure and tranquillity, and although prepared—as he told Elizabeth—to meet with folly and conceit in every other room in the house, he was used to being free from them there. Thus Mr Bennet seized upon any chance to rid himself of Mr Collins’s company, often at the expense of his daughters.

  Jane endured her cousin’s most pointed praises with equanimity, as she did all other situations. In the privacy of their night-time talks, Elizabeth spoke of her embarrassment at her mother’s machinations and her disappointment in her father’s wilful avoidance. Jane defended each of them with gentle words—Mama was only doing what she thought best for their future, and Papa was merely being obliging—but Elizabeth discerned that Jane said so as much to convince herself as anyone else.

  Elizabeth was at turns amused at Mr Collins’s ludicrousness and exasperated by it. She would sometimes provoke his effusions for further merriment. At other times, when he was showering Jane with his gallantry, Elizabeth’s protective nature would awaken, and she directed the conversation to safer subjects. She was particularly proud of the few times she could elicit a discussion on the finer points of Fordyce between Mary and Mr Collins, and her efforts on those occasions were appreciated by all the Bennet girls—Mary was eager for such discussions, and her other sisters were just as eager to be free of Mr Collins’s speeches.

  There were other topics Elizabeth knew could be relied upon to pull the conversation away from Mr Collins while occupying her youngest sisters and distracting their mother. Thus the days were filled with enthusiastic discourse about the arrival of the militia, much speculation about Mr Bingley and his party, and, of course, many exaltations of Lady Catherine de Bourgh and her estate. Elizabeth could only be expected to do so much, after all.

  When they were in company, as today at Longbourn, Charlotte was an enormous help to her efforts, giving Elizabeth and Jane respite from Mr Collins’s constant ramblings. Mr Bingley—and even Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst—unwittingly helped by seeking further acquaintance with Jane. But Elizabeth knew their paltry intervention could only distract her cousin for so long. Something had to be done to end this charade of a courtship and curtail her mother’s gossiping. She must speak with her father. Mr Bennet was at that moment trying to escape his picnic guests, she observed ruefully. He slowly edged back towards the house, no doubt to hide himself in the library. She resolved to break away as soon as she could for a private conversation.

  * * *

  Charlotte did her best to appear interested in the grandness of the chimney piece at Rosings Park, the estate of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She would rather hear about the parso
nage house, but Mr Collins seemed determined to extol his patroness and her tastes. Almost from their first conversation, Charlotte had realised she could easily think on other topics without Mr Collins noticing her inattention.

  She glanced around at the assembled picnic guests. Elizabeth, standing with Jane, Mr Bingley, and Miss Bingley near the roses, gave Charlotte a grateful smile. Charlotte nodded almost imperceptibly. She was happy to help her dear friends, but she had her own designs on Mr Collins, clumsy dancing and inane prattle aside.

  Continuing her perusal, she noted Mr Darcy again watching Elizabeth. He had become rather obvious. Elizabeth had even noticed Mr Darcy’s stares, but with her distraction over Jane and her overhearing that unfortunate conversation at the assembly, she believed he merely looked at her with disdain. With so much matchmaking going on, Charlotte wondered why that superb potential match was being ignored.

  Thoughts of matchmaking brought Charlotte’s gaze to Mrs Bennet, who returned it with an expression of displeasure. Charlotte recognised the look well—it was that of a protective mother. Mrs Bennet, not known for her great intelligence, had been the only person to guess the true nature of Charlotte’s interest in Mr Collins. If his courtship of Jane Bennet ended in failure, Charlotte was resolved to position herself as his second choice. Despite Elizabeth’s vehement assertions that Jane opposed the match, Charlotte doubted Jane would indeed forgo the chance to keep Longbourn within her family. Jane had always been the most sensible Bennet, and she had never directly confirmed, at least not to Charlotte, that she wished for intervention into the courtship. Such a confirmation, however, was unlikely to come from so demure and charitable a young lady.

  Regardless, distracting Mr Collins served two purposes. First, it relieved Elizabeth from her assumed sentry responsibilities, and second, it positioned Charlotte to the greatest advantage should Elizabeth’s assertions prove correct. Her sole regret was that she could not confide her plans in her dearest friend, but Elizabeth would disapprove of Charlotte’s matrimonial calculus. Should her plans succeed, Charlotte would need to enlighten her.

  Charlotte was brought back to the present by some trifling question from Mr Collins. When she answered in the affirmative, he gulped his punch before continuing his monologue.

  * * *

  Fitzwilliam Darcy was a man distracted. To most observers, this was not unusual; he often seemed distracted when in company—staring out a window, appearing deep in thought. It was his way of avoiding the fortune hunters, social climbers, and other unsavoury characters who often sought to ingratiate themselves to him.

  But no, this time he was distracted by, of all things, a country girl. In addition to grudgingly appreciating Elizabeth Bennet’s fine eyes, pleasing figure, and playful manners, Darcy found her behaviour towards the ridiculous Mr Collins most perplexing. Although her manners betrayed nothing, those fine eyes—whose expressions Darcy had been studying since that first night at the assembly—occasionally revealed her true thoughts. Yet she often sought out the company of her parson cousin above all others. Why would she do such a thing?

  It was rumoured Mr Collins would soon make an offer of marriage to the eldest Miss Bennet. Even with his detached aloofness in the neighbourhood, Darcy had heard of the entail on Longbourn and of Mr Collins’s wish to secure a wife from among the Bennet daughters. Miss Elizabeth ought to be happy to escape such notice, letting that duty fall instead to her elder sister. But there she was, intervening in every conversation Mr Collins attempted with Miss Bennet. What could be her purpose? This most interesting question occupied Darcy’s thoughts, and having little else to occupy him in company such as this, he determined to solve the puzzle for himself.

  While pretending to hear what Miss Bingley was saying, Mr Darcy wondered where Miss Elizabeth had gone. During one of the few moments when he was not watching her, she seemed to have disappeared from the picnic guests.

  Mr Collins approached and bowed with a flourish. Darcy braced himself for the inanities that were sure to come. Since being introduced—or rather punished, as would more aptly describe the meeting—at that eventful assembly, Darcy now knew what to expect from the clergyman. This only further deepened his substantial curiosity about Miss Elizabeth’s seeming preference for Mr Collins’s company, for she clearly thought such company a worthy punishment.

  “Is it not a pleasant day for such diverting amusements?” Mr Collins motioned towards the game of battledore and shuttlecock being played by the youngest Bennets and Lucases. The giggling players had attracted an audience of smiling officers, the Philipses, the remaining Lucases, the Longs, and the Hursts. Getting no distinct reply, Mr Collins continued, “Longbourn’s gardens are very fine although they are nothing to Rosings Park and, as I am told, Pemberley. Lady Catherine speaks often of your estate, Mr Darcy. I understand she has advised you in redecorating the public rooms over the years and has made recommendations to improve the grounds. As Lady Catherine has exquisite tastes, Pemberley must be very grand indeed.”

  Miss Bingley replied, “I am sure Pemberley’s grounds need no improvements. Mr Darcy is an excellent master of that fine estate.”

  If not so distracted, Darcy might have found the ensuing conversation between Pemberley’s fawning admirers greatly amusing. He searched for a means of escape, not only to avoid such insincere praises—Miss Bingley had never set foot on Pemberley’s grounds beyond the rose garden—but also to locate a certain young lady.

  At that moment, the shrill voice of Mrs Bennet could be heard nearby, “Oh! Wherever can Mr Bennet and Lizzy be? Have they no consideration for their guests? They delight in vexing me!”

  Darcy seized the opportunity, amazed he could ever eagerly welcome the appearance of Mrs Bennet. “Madam, allow me to search for them so that you may continue acting as gracious hostess.”

  Mrs Bennet appeared surprised by Darcy’s offer but accepted it. “That is very kind of you, sir. If you must coax Mr Bennet to join us, tell him that we shall soon begin the cricket. As for my daughter, tell her I demand to see her at once.”

  Darcy did not need to be told twice. He suspected he could find Mr Bennet in the library, though he had no idea where to find Miss Elizabeth, since she was not hovering around Mr Collins or Jane Bennet. He decided to enter the front door and ask for their whereabouts. Coming around the corner of the house, he neared the double windows that looked into the library. There he heard Miss Elizabeth’s voice from inside.

  “Papa, I must speak with you about Mr Collins.”

  Darcy recognised the opportunity to solve the mystery that had plagued him. He halted his progress without acknowledging that he was about to eavesdrop. He could just make out Miss Elizabeth’s reflection in the angled pane of the open window. He could also see Mr Bennet’s back, seated at his desk.

  Mr Bennet turned a page in his book but made no other movement. “Please, Lizzy, Mr Collins consumes enough of our time with his company; we hardly need give him a moment more without it.”

  “Yes, but have you noted whose time he most consumes?”

  “As long as he consumes as little of mine as possible, I am content to let the rest of you fend for yourselves.” He had all the appearance of intending that to be the last word on the subject.

  Moving forward into the room, Miss Elizabeth pressed on. “Papa, I find it hard to believe, with your keen eye for observation, that you have failed to grasp Mr Collins’s attentions towards Jane.”

  “What of them?” said he, not looking up. “Jane inspires many a better man to lavish attentions upon her.”

  “But many a better man do not come to Longbourn with the express intent of finding a wife.”

  “Much to your mother’s disappointment,” he quipped, still reading.

  “Papa, please!” Darcy watched her pause and breathe in deeply. “Would you wish for me to marry Mr Collins?”

  Mr Bennet looked up sharply from his book. “You, my Lizzy? Heavens no. You would never accept him, ridiculous as he is.”
/>   “No, I would not,” she said. Darcy audibly exhaled in relief and then ducked fully out of sight lest they had heard. Luckily he was not noticed as Miss Elizabeth continued. “But you can imagine Mama’s disapprobation at my refusal.”

  “Naturally. However, I trust in your ability to suffer through it admirably—perhaps by increasing the frequency and length of your outdoor exertions. How conveniently you time your constitutionals to avoid your mother’s morning tirades.”

  Mr Bennet’s teasing failed to distract her. “Do you wish Jane to be put in such a situation when she has no similar escape from Mama’s apoplexy?”

  “I am not certain Jane would inspire your mother’s apoplexy.” He spoke in a detached, almost academic tone that Darcy thought irritating if not cruel.

  Miss Elizabeth’s voice rose. “So you would expect her to accept a proposal from Mr Collins?”

  “I do not know what to expect. Jane is sensible enough to know the advantages of such a match.” She made a noise that could only be described as a snort, before her father continued in a gentler tone, “Her disposition is so different from yours that I suspect she could endure Mr Collins’s company with grace and even contentedness in securing her family’s future.”

  “Why does this duty fall to her, Papa? Why should she be expected to suffer through a lifetime with that insufferable man? Might I remind you that you could barely endure three hours of his antics upon hosting him here?”

  Now she stood directly in front of Mr Bennet, challenging him with her fine eyes from across his desk and in full view of Darcy’s spying. But he found himself unable to move, riveted by the righteous, beautiful anger in her face.

  * * *