Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

D arcy was surprised to see the stout man who was, apparently, awaiting him on the front steps of Elizabeth’s home—his aunt’s vicar, he remembered. For a moment, he almost looked about for Lady Catherine, before remembering that this was Elizabeth’s cousin. Had he been here when Darcy had spoken to her father? He rather thought he had, and that he had introduced himself, although Darcy had paid as little attention to him as was possible. Cockrell? Connor? No, Collins, that was it. Yet another unfortunate relation for her. He gave him the briefest of bows.

“I would speak to Miss Elizabeth,” he demanded tersely, not bothering with further formalities.

The other man stared, as if astonished, gawping at him as if he had demanded to see the prince regent.

“Are you deaf, man? Fetch her, if you will,” he ordered impatiently .

At this, Mr Collins drew himself up, as if Darcy were the one behaving offensively. “I am all the more astonished at what has happened,” he replied, “from that knowledge of what the manners of the great really are, which my situation in life has allowed me to acquire. In the example of your lady aunt, for instance, I have witnessed the most elegant of breeding. The behaviour we witnessed from you, and most especially your family , is all the more abhorrent, in comparison. I cannot help but conclude that her ladyship would find much to be disappointed in.”

Does this worm know of Georgiana’s blunders? Darcy thought, appalled. Had the Bennets been indiscreet? How dare they share his sister’s shame with this toad! Had Elizabeth spoken of the colonel’s revelations?

But then he remembered the colonel saying that ‘the whole family was an embarrassment’. Had Fitzwilliam shared his news with more than simply Elizabeth? Had he felt obligated, due to the last-minute nature of Darcy’s withdrawal, to justify it to the whole clan? If so, it also explained Fitzwilliam’s testiness whenever the subject was broached. He had made an error there, although he could not have known how brash were Elizabeth’s connexions.

Darcy thought of his letters, returned unopened, and now it made a kind of sense. These reprobates had set themselves up as judge and jury of a young girl they did not know. Further, Lady Catherine would undoubtedly learn of Georgiana’s humiliation as well.

Darcy’s jaw clenched at the thought. Nevertheless, he could not believe that Elizabeth would have responded with anything except sympathy and grief, whatever her family’s opinions. Probably, they had not allowed her to know he had written at all.

He leant forwards, putting himself right in the man’s face. “Let me make myself perfectly clear. I will speak to Miss Elizabeth, and I will speak to her now.”

Mr Collins’s face went white, and he took a satisfying step backwards. All too quickly, however, he shook off his obvious fear. “It does not matter what threats you invoke upon my person. I have cast the cloak of my protection over her, and shall never bow to your menace.”

Abruptly, the memory of a conversation at Netherfield with Elizabeth, before she had accepted his proposal, hit Darcy with lightning force. She had received a letter from her mother, demanding that she come home to marry this churl. Rage filled him, his fingers twitching with a desire to inflict violence.

“The ‘cloak of your protection’ had better never touch Elizabeth, unless you wish your next sermon to be preached from Hades itself. You will inform her I am here. At once.”

Mr Collins’s entire demeanour shrank in expected dread, but his voice rose into a high pitch. “I cannot. She is not here. But I would not, regardless. She deserves better, and so does Miss Anne de Bourgh, and so I shall inform Lady Catherine!”

The sound of horses coming up the drive alerted both Darcy and Mr Collins to the approach of others. The other man’s relief was easily seen and immediate; sidestepping Darcy, he scurried down the steps to meet the carriage.

Eyes narrowed, Darcy watched to see if Mr Bennet was within; but there was no one else in the vehicle when Mr Collins leapt inside before it came to a complete halt. Moments later, it continued its way around the drive and back from whence it had come.

Impatiently, Darcy pounded on Longbourn’s door. It seemed to take some time before an out-of-breath maid answered.

Lax household!

She took his card, her eyes widening at the sight of him. Instead of answering his question regarding the whereabouts of either Miss Elizabeth or Mr Bennet, she dashed away, mumbling something about fetching the housekeeper.

At last, a respectable-looking, elderly woman, much finer and more civil than he had any notion of finding her, came to the door. Unfortunately, like the very best servants, she provided no information upon the whereabouts of the family or the predicted time of their return—but all with the greatest courtesy—and Darcy was feeling rather desperate by the time he received her gracious dismissal.

“Please,” he heard himself entreating. Begging, even. “If you can provide any intelligence at all regarding Miss Elizabeth’s current location, I would be forever grateful.”

She looked at him for a long moment, and for some reason he felt himself weighed, measured, and found lacking. Her lips pursed. “She is with her relations in London,” she said at last. “I am certain that Miss Elizabeth must have spoken of them, as they are great favourites with her. I would suppose that if she did, and if you listened, you would not have much trouble in discovering her.” Gently, she shut the door in his face.