16

The promise of spring adorned the countryside as Elizabeth peered out the window of the carriage that conveyed her and her father to Kent. He had come to London the day before, and had jested that he hoped the Collinses had a fine cook, for his favourite daughter had grown thin in London. Even now he watched her with unusual solicitude, pretending to read but never turning a page.

“Well, Lizzy,” he said, attempting levity when he was found out in observing her. “What do you think of so much greenery about you after a winter in London? I hope the grounds of Rosings Park offer you ample scenic walks. I ought to have relied on our cousin for so many boastful descriptions of the property, but his letters have grown lamentably sensible of late.”

“It is beautiful,” Elizabeth admitted. She had indeed been kept indoors more often than was her wont since she had been staying with the Gardiners, and if her father believed that was what had her so out of sorts, so much the better. The truth was harder to own to, that she had pined like a fool for Captain Darcy for the last four months, and that she cherished such pathetic hopes of a happy reunion with him in Kent. Hopes that, if dashed, she feared would wreck her heart utterly and completely.

Mr. Bennet merely raised his brows at the brevity of Elizabeth’s reply and pressed her no further. It was not long before they reached the lane that brought them to the parsonage, where the Collinses had come outside to greet them.

Kitty was fairly bouncing with joy as Mr. Bennet handed Elizabeth down from the carriage. The sisters shared a warm and tearful embrace; only when Kitty drew away did she betray an expression of surprise at Elizabeth’s altered appearance. It was but a flicker of surprise that she quickly dispelled, but Elizabeth knew her sister well enough to dread the inevitable commiseration.

Mr. Collins was as full of chatter as ever, though he was no longer the silly, simpering ninny she had once thought him. Though he had a great deal to say, he expressed himself well, and Elizabeth was touched by the glow of pride on Kitty’s face.

A tour of the parsonage was offered, and the Collinses eagerly led their guests through the charming house. There was much said of the furnishing and arrangements, but it was all Kitty’s effusions at the warm and comfortable qualities of her new home. She was eager to show Elizabeth her contentment, and Elizabeth was happy for her sister.

Mr. Collins could not resist some little praise of Lady Catherine’s contribution to his domestic felicity, but he spoke of the improvements she had made with so little deference as to leave Mr. Bennet visibly disappointed. He then invited them to take a stroll in the garden, which was large and well laid out.

“My dear Kitty and I attend to the cultivation ourselves, and I believe it is one of our favourite ways to pass an afternoon together,” he told Elizabeth. Kitty had led Mr. Bennet far enough down the path as to be out of hearing, and Mr. Collins gave his wife a flirtatious wave of his hand, which caused her to blush very prettily as she smiled broadly at her husband.

Elizabeth covered a laugh with a little cough as Mr. Collins reddened, perhaps considering other means of enjoying an afternoon with his lovely and loving wife. He regained his composure and pointed out a rose bush of which he was particularly proud, for it was a variation grown only at Rosings, and had been gifted to the Collinses upon their return from London.

“This is called the Red Rarity – is the color not remarkable? And you will notice the astonishing fullness of the blossoms, compared to the floribunda. And yet they are quite easy to care for, when one is well versed in such things.”

Elizabeth did her best to give an appropriate reply, but as she stared at the roses, she could think only of their gifter. Captain Darcy had truly been such a kind friend to her sister and cousin, and a small and selfish part of Elizabeth wished to believe that he had done so for her sake.

When they reached the back of the garden, the most splendid view yet was to be presented, and even Mr. Collins could not resist waxing poetic on the impressive vista. Kitty repeated all his effusions, pointing out everything remarkable in the sprawling estate situated at the top of a rolling hill just beyond the grassy meadow spotted with wildflowers.

The sun broke through a swath of fluffy mammatus clouds, casting its rays down on the majestic house that surpassed even the picture Mr. Collins had once painted. It was as if even the heavens conspired to taunt Elizabeth with what she had lost, as the pale gray stone glowed in the sunlight before the cloud shifted once again, sending the view into shadow.

That Captain Darcy was master of such a place caused Elizabeth to tremble at her own insignificance. Perhaps she might have been mistress of Rosings, happily ensconced in the library with the man she loved, had tragedy not separated them – or perhaps after four months away, the master of such a grand estate had forgotten her. Perhaps she had pined in vain for a gentleman who was now too far above her.

The clouds darkened, and Mr. Collins hastened them back indoors before it should rain. He was particularly attentive to his wife, and Elizabeth’s aching heart warmed at the sight of it. He began to lead them to the parlour, the first room they had seen and praised, and he suggested they all sit by the fire and speak of London. Elizabeth had little to say of her stay there, for though she had gone to many places and met with many new acquaintance of her aunt’s, none had held any appeal. It had been as if a shade of grey was thrown over everything, but she could hardly say as much to her new brother.

Instead, she was happy to listen as he extolled upon his own impressions of the capitol, his fascination with all the art he had seen at the Royal Exhibition, his enthusiasm for the theatre, and his surprising fondness for Hatchard’s.

“I would not have thought to visit such a remarkable shop, but Captain Darcy insisted I do so. And what do you think? When we did visit, on the third day – or no, was it the fourth day, my blossom? At any rate, when we did go to Hatchard’s, I meant only to purchase a little book of poetry for my lovely bride, and I happened to strike up a conversation with the shopkeeper, an excellent fellow. And what did you think he told me? Only that he had been expecting me, and that Captain Darcy had set aside a sum for my purchasing several volumes of a philosophical nature. I was bowled over at such generosity, though I was obliged to own that knew little of the subject. But the good shopkeeper was everything amiable and obliged me in selecting several volumes that Captain Darcy himself favors. We have been discussing together them every Friday afternoon.”

“Indeed?” Elizabeth could scarcely conceal her astonishment. “Pray, what have you been reading?”

“David Hume and John Locke, and of course Samuel Coleridge,” Mr. Collins replied with a twinkle in his eye, as if knowing this must be a surprise. “I confess I had not the experience of so many of my peers at university, in the sort of lively philosophical discussions that I have enjoyed with Captain Darcy. He is a clever man, and I have often been quite overcome by his grasp of the material, which far outstrips my own comprehension. Still, I find it edifying and exceedingly enjoyable when I am able to consider such weighty notions and see something of them in what I have been taught to preach. Though Captain Darcy has declined to examine my sermons in advance, as Lady Catherine once did, I believe he has begun to enjoy them a great deal more than when first I came, and so I believe it would not be vanity on my part to surmise that I have been greatly improved by my scholarly pursuits.”

“Then I shall anticipate Sunday morning with great pleasure, sir.”

“You must call me William – or better, still, Brother. And you must speak to me of books as much as you choose while you are here. I know your tastes must be similar, for I recall how you and Captain Darcy had your literary discussions in Hertfordshire. I cannot promise I shall read Miss Wollstonecraft with you, but I am presently contemplating Paradise Lost, and I shall venture a guess that you have read it already.”

“I cannot claim it a favourite, but perhaps you might read a favourite passage to us this evening?” Elizabeth could scarcely believe the words as they passed her lips, but she was perfectly in earnest.

Eager as she was to hear from Captain Darcy how Mr. Collins’s unlikely education had come about, it was Kitty who sated Elizabeth’s curiosity. She invited Elizabeth to join her in a smaller parlour on the other side of the house, which had been appointed for her particular use.

“Is my husband not an excellent man after all?” Kitty smiled as she sipped her tea.

“I am all astonishment,” Elizabeth said. “But of course we ought to have trusted Charlotte – she did say it would prove to be a fine match for you. And are you happy, Kitty?”

“I am, Lizzy, truly. Our stay in London was just what was needed, I think. Away from Longbourn, to be in a place where all was new and thrilling for us both, there was such a sense of wonder and excitement in beginning our lives together. And Captain Darcy had been so good to us. His influence over William is truly a blessing, and I enjoy his company, though at times their discussions are more than I can follow. There are times when he has to simplify whatever he is explaining, if William asks a great many questions, and then it is such a relief to hear his ideas expressed in a way that I can make out, without exposing my own ignorance.”

“You need not be embarrassed, Kitty,” Elizabeth cried. “You are not to blame for your want of education, for we both know it was Lydia who frustrated our parents’ efforts!”

Kitty laughed, sending a little splash over the side of her teacup. She ignored it and said, “I have been clever in my own way, Lizzy. I have always taken care to write to you on Saturday, so that the following Friday I will have a letter from you to read during Captain Darcy’s visits, and when there is a lull in conversation I make mention of whatever you have written of.”

“Oh dear,” Elizabeth said. There was little in her letters that would not have betrayed her low spirits, and she was mortified that any of it might have been repeated to Captain Darcy.

“Abigail is also keen to meet you,” Kitty said. “She and Mr. Taylor are to dine with us tomorrow; I invited Captain Darcy, but he is to dine at the dower house, for his cousin arrives in the morning. But then we shall dine the following day with Lady Catherine, for she likes to keep the numbers even.”

“His cousin is coming to Kent? Good Heavens, Lydia will be wild with envy,” Elizabeth quipped, hoping her jest belied the tremendous agitation in her heart at the prospect of seeing Captain Darcy.

“Perhaps if she attempted to improve herself as William and I do, we might invite her to the parsonage to stay with us sometime, while the colonel is visiting Rosings,” Kitty said smugly.

“For now we shall savour the delights ourselves,” Elizabeth agreed, for she had found Colonel Fitzwilliam to be excellent company in Meryton – when her youngest sister was not swooning over him.

“And shall you savour the delights of Captain Darcy’s company?” Kitty waggled her eyebrows.

There was no point in pretending with Kitty, who had known of Elizabeth’s heartbreak since the night of the Netherfield ball. And the look in her eyes told Elizabeth that her sister could see how she had despaired in the months since then.

“Your separation has taken a toll on you, Lizzy,” Kitty said before Elizabeth could do more than choke back a sob. As tears threatened to spill from Elizabeth’s eyes, her hand was covered gently by Kitty’s. “Oh, Lizzy, all shall be well! You will be together again, and your fine looks will return, and I am sure Captain Darcy will ask you to marry him. He loves you, I know he does.”

The tears finally slid down Elizabeth’s cheeks, and she did not bother to brush them away. “There was a moment, that last night at Netherfield, when I thought he might kiss me. We were sitting on the sofa in the library and he looked at me as if – he never said that he loved me, but all this time I have believed that he did. I was waiting for him to say it, I felt so sure that he would. I looked at him and thought, he is going to kiss me, he is going to kiss me! And then Jane walked in. And not five minutes later, everything was ruined.”

“Well, we shall simply have to unruin it now,” Kitty said. “Luckily, Jane is not here, nor that awful woman! There is nobody to spoil it for you and Captain Darcy.”

***

Elizabeth found it difficult to share in her sister’s optimism, especially on the evening that she and her companions dined at the dower house. Lady Catherine de Bourgh proved to be exactly the sort of creature Elizabeth had imagined, having heard much of the lady from Captain Darcy.

The dowager was a formidable creature, proud in her speech and formidable in her judgement. Her attitude was conceited and her tone was one of disdain, though her words were everything proper. Elizabeth could not imagine how Mr. Collins had ever been gratified by this style of condescension, and she could sense that he thought less of it after a few months of friendship with Captain Darcy.

Lady Amelia Fitzwilliam was much the same. Unlike her brother, she was humorless and haughty, leaving Elizabeth to repine that this was the cousin who had come to visit.

She would have been wretched anyhow, for Lady Catherine had invited her guests from the parsonage on Wednesday, knowing that it was the evening on which Captain Darcy habitually dined with his steward at the inn in Hunsford. Her misery was compounded by the possessive tone Lady Amelia affected when she spoke of her cousin.

“How provincial it is of Fitzwilliam to adopt such a rustic little custom,” Lady Amelia said with a sneer. “There is a decided want of good company in this part of the country, to be sure, but my dear cousin need not be so desperate all that.”

“He was very attentive last evening. He knows his duty,” Lady Catherine told her niece, giving Elizabeth a look of triumph. “I take it, Miss Elizabeth, that you are acquainted with my nephew, as your sister was when first she came amongst us?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth answered. Under Lady Amelia’s scrutinising observation, Elizabeth would admit nothing further.

“And you have an inordinate quantity of sisters, is that not so? You poor thing!” Lady Amelia tittered.

“I have four, which I do not think an unreasonable amount, nor a misfortune. I am fond of all of them.” This last sentence stuck in Elizabeth’s throat, but she held her rival’s gaze with determination, for it had been near enough the truth.

“I have always considered myself lucky to have no sisters, for I would not appreciate the competition – to share my mother’s fortune, my gowns and jewels, perhaps even my suitors. I daresay we would have squabbled amongst ourselves and torn each other to ribbons.”

There was some merit in her assumption, not only because such bickering was not infrequent at Longbourn, but because Elizabeth could well imagine Lady Amelia behaving so cruelly to any young lady who desired anything she felt a claim to. But she would not give Lady Amelia the satisfaction.

“Having so many sisters has been an education in forbearance to be sure. We are all of very different dispositions, and are not always in harmony, so it has taught me how to behave graciously and smile at those I would rather slap.”

Beside Elizabeth, her father coughed vigorously to conceal his laughter.

Lady Amelia gave a supercilious smile. “You would have been a most interesting student of such dynamics had you been fortunate enough to move in the first circles, as Fitzwilliam and I do.”

“I had understood Captain Darcy to be limited to the company of his fellow sailors these last three years. If that is the circle which you share with him, I most own my surprise, though I heartily agree that it would make quite a fascinating study.” Elizabeth grinned at Lady Amelia, imagining the ostentatious feathers in her elaborately arranged hair suddenly catching fire.

Lady Catherine gave both younger women a withering scowl before interjecting. “And are you often in London, Miss Elizabeth? I understand you have been staying there these three months.”

“Yes. I visit my aunt and uncle at least once a year, though this has been my longest visit yet.”

“It is very generous of them to host a relation for so long. I certainly do not mean to give you so long, my dear.” This last was directed at Lady Amelia, who responded with a knowing smile at her aunt.

“My aunt and uncle are the souls of generosity. They are excellent people.”

“The soul of generosity indeed,” Mr. Collins cried. “Before Elizabeth stayed with them, they gave my bride and I the use of their house in London for above a week, for our honeymoon.”

Lady Catherine sneered. “In what part of London do they reside?”

Mr. Bennet was happy to supply the answer that was sure to disgust her ladyship. “They reside in Cheapside. My brother by marriage is in trade, and I have another who is the local barrister in Meryton.”

“Such interesting relations,” she spat back at him. “And you have had five daughters and no sons? What can your wife be about, sir?”

“With five daughters out in society, my wife gets up to a great deal,” Mr. Bennet said with a laugh. Then he gestured to Mr. Collins and grinned. “And I have a son now, you see.”

“You are to be commended on such a prudent match,” Lady Amelia said. “Mr. Collins is to inherit your estate, and he has wed one of your daughters – well done, I say. I heartily approve of such things.” She gave Elizabeth a wicked smile.

The rest of the dinner conversation continued in a similar vein. Lady Catherine continued to quiz Elizabeth about her sisters and their accomplishments, while Lady Amelia seized every chance to imply a close relationship with her cousin. Mr. Bennet was content to be amused, and to amuse them in turn with his shocking candour. Only Elizabeth was not pleased by the evening’s outing, and she was relieved when finally they took their leave of the dower house.

But there was no respite for Elizabeth that night. She laid awake in her bed and gave in to the barrage of memories that assailed her. She replayed a dozen happy instances in her mind, of riding in Captain Darcy’s curricle, of dancing with him at the assembly, of walking with him in the gardens, of how he had twirled her in Netherfield’s kitchens, and of course, how he had nearly kissed her in the library.

Those little moments had been sacred to her, though they felt so far away now. She had really been there, she reminded herself; he had truly looked at her with every sentiment she felt so strongly reflected back at her in his countenance. She had loved him and he had loved her, and her desperate heart spiralled into every agonisingly blissful recollection all at once as sleep continued to evade her.