Chapter Twelve

“Lalalalala.” Emily Darcy waited a proper time, a whole five seconds, staring out the carriage window, to see if her demand was listened to before turning to her father and Colonel Fitzwilliam and exclaiming again, more insistently, “Lalala.”

“No, darling,” Darcy replied. “We can walk when we reach Rosings. That will not, I judge, be more than thirty minutes.”

Emily imperiously pointed at the door, “Dow, lalalalala.”

“My apologies, dearest, but we would be unkind to the horses if we stopped them when they have already got an excellent stride.”

“Lalalalala.”

There were tears in her voice, and Darcy had to resist the urge to tell the coachman to stop the carriage, reason and sense be damned, his daughter wanted a walk.

“No, darling. Here, you might look at this book again.”

The girl refused the proffered book but perceiving that her wholly reasonable demands were not to be met by her wholly unreasonable father, she settled herself onto the velvet seat cushion and swung her legs back and forth intently.

“Are you certain,” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked, “that she meant she wished for a walk? I suspect she merely exercises her vocal cords.”

Darcy sighed. “I am certain.”

“How odd. It sounds nothing like ‘walk’. Or ‘out’, nor any other word that might correspond to the notion.”

“She often has determined her own private word for various things. In this case, I believe the source of the term is that Nell would oft say, ‘lalalala, let’s go walk’ before they headed outside.”

Hearing this, Emily left off her satisfied, and increasingly energetic, swinging of her legs, and said, “Lalalalala,” and grabbed at the handle of the carriage.

Fortunately, the door was sufficiently difficult to operate that there was no chance, Darcy thought, of the girl managing to open the door whilst they rushed along at more than ten miles an hour. Despite this Dacy pulled her hand back from the door.

She looked at him with her sad eyes and heart-shaped face that looked both so much like his mother’s and like Anne’s. “Papa, Papa. Lalalalala. Toge.”

“Yes, you want us to walk together. We will as soon as we arrive.” The ride from London was not actually very long, but the poor girl had nearly reached the end of her patience.

“It pleases me,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, “to see that you are still absurdly dedicated to keeping that little creature endlessly happy.”

Darcy raised his eyebrows.

“Do not glare at me . You have determined to be a mother, and a mother you are. A cross between the female of the chicken species, and that of the lion.”

“Monstrous strange hybrid,” was Darcy’s reply.

Emily let out a growl upon hearing the magic word lion .

“Very good, Em-Em,” Darcy said. “That is what a lion sounds like.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam laughingly asked the girl, “Can you tell me what a snake sounds like?”

The reply was a disgruntled stare.

“She does not perform for our amusement,” Darcy said solemnly.

“What shocks me,” Colonel Fitzwilliam replied, “is that you are coming to Lady Catherine’s at all. I thought I’d need to go alone as my father’s sacrificial lamb.”

“There is a great deal of business with the estate that I ought to look over. It is my duty as Anne’s guardian, even if Lady Catherine principally manages the estate. And she has several times suggested there are matters that might be best handled by a gentleman.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam rolled his eyes. “She only wishes to see you.”

“She only wishes to see Emily.”

“And that is precisely why I am shocked that you are coming at all. At least with the girl.”

“I will not leave Emily behind for weeks. Not at such an age as she is at, when everything changes so quickly. Her facility with language advances nearly every day. She runs more easily, finds fascination in new games and tricks, and—”

“Deuce.” Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. “I did not ask to hear every great feature of your daughter. I knew that by your accounting there are a great many. But why ? — none of that tripe about business matters. You can deal quite well by mail, and whatever I may dislike about her character, Lady Catherine does a satisfactory job of managing the estate and keeping all, sundry, and the ants of the fields well aware of its consequence.”

Darcy was determined to not tell Colonel Fitzwilliam the truth. Firstly, he did not wish to be teased. Secondly, his own emotions and feelings were wholly unsettled, and he did not wish to hear advice from Colonel Fitzwilliam until such time as he was fully decided upon a course.

The reason that he was traveling to Rosings for Easter was simple: He had met Bingley at his club upon arriving in London for the season. They had talked, drank cognac, played billiards, and settled in for a game of chess. Only at this point did Darcy mention Miss Elizabeth Bennet and ask if Bingley might know how she managed.

To which the immediate reply was that she had been present in London until only a week prior, and that Bingley had twice called with his sisters upon her aunt and uncle. He liked her uncle very much.

Oh. She’d been so close. But she was not anymore.

And then Bingley said, “She has gone to Kent, to be present when Mrs. Collins enters her confinement. Such a beautiful woman. It is a pity that she is tied irrevocably to such a bore. Poor, poor woman. I think of her often.” Bingley blushed. “It shall be a great comfort for her to have her sister with her during such a critical time.”

And then, without pausing to think, Darcy said, “Do you wish me to give them both your greetings when I travel to see my aunt for Easter?”

“You shall visit Lady Catherine!” Bingley exclaimed. “I thought you never meant to.”

And Darcy had, without blushing, made up a story about business needs, and the importance of family ties. Bingley had even believed the tale.

Darcy had even managed to make the plan sound like it had been one of long standing, rather than an impulsive decision made two minutes earlier.

Colonel Fitzwilliam did not believe the tale.

“No really,” the officer insisted. “And no more twaddle. Why are we in this carriage?”

“My deep and abiding affection for you .”

A stare. Darcy smiled back.

“Lalalalala.” Emily crawled into Darcy’s lap, took his face in her hands, stared into his eyes, and insisted, “Lalalala.”

“I do believe you are right, dear. A walk will do us good. But when we arrive — why, we are nearly there. Passing through the village right now.”

Darcy now stared out the window.

He wanted to see the parsonage where Miss Elizabeth lived.

Emily began to sob, and Darcy pulled her onto his shoulder and bounced her as he tried to keep half an eye out the window.

Where was that blasted parsonage? There it was. As they rolled past, he saw Mr. Collins himself standing outside, wearing his ugly hat and white clerical collar. That gentleman bowed to them as Darcy drove past.

Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. “Who was that fellow? He looks like a fat frog who swallowed a fly which did not agree with him.”

“Hop, hop,” Emily said.

“What?” Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at Emily, seemingly surprised that she had suddenly ceased to cry.

Darcy kept a firm, protective hold on Emily as she clambered onto the cushions of the seat, put her hands on the top of the seat, and hopped, saying “Hop” again as she did so.

“I see,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. This followed by a long suffering sigh. “I said frog and frogs hop.”

“Hop,” was the cheerful reply.

“I am not sure, but I think I liked her more before she spoke so much,” Colonel Fitzwilliam replied.

“Em-Em, stick your tongue out at Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

The girl of course obeyed that command without any hesitation, and then they were there.

The greeting was difficult.

Lady Catherine instantly frightened Emily, and her insistence on holding the girl and giving her a kiss led to Emily crying. At which point Lady Catherine began to severely scold her for not managing her emotions — a Fitzwilliam never cried.

Darcy picked Emily up and carried her several feet from Lady Catherine. “I beg you, madam,” he said stiffly, “do not say such things to my child.”

“She should not be indulged in crying. It is a terrible vice, I can only tolerate tears in children who have not yet reached two years of age.”

“She hasn’t ,” Darcy replied with frustration. “She lacks that age by two months still.”

Lady Catherine stared at him. And then she waved her hand. “A matter of little importance.”

Once Darcy set her down, Emily immediately began to wander around the carriageway. But then she saw Mr. Collins approaching across the park, huffing slightly in the unseasonably warm day.

The girl immediately ran back to her father and hid behind his legs.

“Mr. Darcy, Mr. Darcy!” Mr. Collins waved widely as he stepped up to the group. “Greetings, and salutations. Your daughter looks to be in such fine health that Galen would have despaired at the uselessness of his craft should he have seen her. My Lady, congratulations on seeing the fine specimen of childhood that is your granddaughter.”

“She cries more than a child her age should,” Lady Catherine said.

Darcy bowed to Mr. Collins, and then introduced his cousin.

Colonel Fitzwilliam made his bow and handshake and said as he did, “I was speaking of you when we passed by in the carriage.” He turned to Darcy with a grin. “Was I not?”

“I bring you greetings. And from my wife and my cousins who are present with her as well,” Mr. Collins said. “We are all very happy to see that you have arrived in a perfection of safety, and without any chance of mishap on the journey from London.”

“There was a chance of mishap,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said.

Mr. Collins gasped. “With Miss Darcy aboard? The Almighty would not have allowed it.”

That drew a laugh, a little bitter, from Colonel Fitzwilliam. Darcy had heard enough stories from his cousin of horrid things that he’d seen during the wars to know that he considered the Almighty to be, in his wisdom, willing to permit a great deal.

Darcy believed, unlike Colonel Fitzwilliam, that all things worked together for good — though oftentimes the reward for good done would only be achieved in the next world.

Yet again Mr. Collins made his deep, low bow. “I can now give my happy confirmation that I have seen and spoken with you. I shall return to my humble parsonage to impart the beyond blessed news of your safe arrival.”

“You ought to hurry,” Colonel Fitzwilliam suggested, “I cannot help but imagine that your wife and cousins have been in desperate anxiety to hear of our fate.”

Darcy wondered. He hoped that Elizabeth felt something.

“Wait,” Darcy said to Mr. Collins. “I shall make the walk across the park with you. Madam,” Darcy said to his aunt, “Emily needs to walk and run after such a long time in the carriage.”

“We shall?” Colonel Fitzwilliam said in a shocked tone of voice. It was clear that Mr. Collins had not yet given his cousin sufficient cause to consider him to be a fine sort of fellow.

“You need not,” Darcy replied tartly. “If you are so overcome by your journey as to require resting in the main house.”

He suddenly realized that his interest in Elizabeth was going to be impossible to conceal from Colonel Fitzwilliam once he faced the girl himself.

As they “walked” across the section of the park that separated Rosings from Hunsford Parsonage, it was evident to Darcy that both of his adult companions were annoyed by the antics of the youngest member of their group, and Darcy’s tolerance of them.

Emily would run forward. Then a fascinating piece of grass would catch her attention. She would pull at that grass for several minutes, before abandoning the task for studying a rock. Then at seeing her father ten feet ahead, and smiling at her while beckoning and repeating, “Come, come,” she would run up to him, and then past, only to immediately find a different patch of grass wholly absorbing.

Or a beetle. Or a line of ants. Or the sight of one of Lady Catherine’s deer — part of a herd that had famously been hunted by Henry VIII when he was courting Anne Boleyn. The sight of the deer made her squeal in delight and spend several minutes chattering “dee, dee, dee”.

Advice to hurry and come along was wholly ignored, though on occasion she would look up with a beaming smile and run towards them.

Eventually Darcy’s own impatience to see how Elizabeth greeted him, and to discover what he felt upon the renewed acquaintance, led Darcy to scoop the giggling girl up, flip her upside down, gnaw on her belly, and then swing her up to her ordinary perch.

However, despite his eagerness to see Elizabeth, upon being conducted with Colonel Fitzwilliam to the drawing room by Mr. Collins, Darcy found himself wholly unable to speak once he was again in Elizabeth’s presence. She had risen upon their entering, with a flushed face, and their eyes met. Then she looked away again immediately.

She glowed in the afternoon light through the window, her hair a halo. Her wide smile, pert nose, clear freckled skin, and light figure. She was all that he remembered. He had never been able to stop thinking about her, and he still could not.

He felt a strong anxiety, as he knew that he ought to speak. He should ask after her family, and all the common acquaintances. It once had been so easy to converse with her, but now his mouth was wholly stuffed up.

Not seeming to notice Darcy’s silence, Mr. Collins greeted his wife and cousins, and introduced Colonel Fitzwilliam to them.

It was, in fact, only then that Darcy realized that Mrs. Collins and Mary Bennet were present in the room with Elizabeth.

Mrs. Collins was beautiful as ever, even though she was heavy with child and clearly close to the date at which she would face the childbed. Miss Mary was slightly pinch faced, as ever. She was a pretty enough girl, but nothing to her sisters.

Those were thoughts that flitted through his head, but most of his mind was focused on Elizabeth. She did not look back at him, but the colour of her face, and the way she held herself as she smiled and curtsied to Colonel Fitzwilliam as he made gallant remarks kept him convinced that her attention was upon him as much as his attention was upon her.

If nothing else, she would have ordinarily replied in a light and railing manner to Colonel Fitzwilliam’s comments upon being glad that there would be women present to entertain him during the dull stay at Lady Catherine’s.

Darcy forced himself to greet to Mrs. Collins and Miss Mary, and then he faced Elizabeth again. Seconds of hesitation. Awareness that his cousin was aware of his behaviour. Elizabeth’s deep eyes. “You are well. I see you are well. Yes, you look very well. I hope? — I can see you are well. And your family? I see your sisters here. They are very well. But your other sisters? And your family in London? Are they all well?”

“I am very well.” She smiled at him. “Emily, she has become so large!”

Darcy put the girl down, and Emily immediately hid behind him.

Elizabeth smiled at Emily and made a funny face when she caught the girl’s eye.

Emily responded with a gigantic smile. Then of course she shyly turned her face aside, while still keeping the corner of her eye on Elizabeth.

“Are you well?” Elizabeth asked. “Your sister… and all. We heard.”

Elizabeth's manner proclaimed that she was not at all at ease either.

“Yes, my sister. Well. With my aunt and uncle. In Matlock. Recovering from her… experiences. She is well. All is well. Emily is big. Yes.” You are beautiful . “Mr. Bingley sends his greetings to you and Mrs. Collins.”

This caught Mrs. Collins’s attention, and she asked, “Is he well? I do wish I’d been able to pursue our acquaintance further. A gentleman who is very much like a gentleman ought to be.”

“Mr. Bingley is in good spirits and good health. He has established himself in London for the remainder of the season, and I believe he intends to return to Netherfield afterwards.”

There was something in Mrs. Collins’s manner that suggested to Darcy that she might like to continue the conversation upon the subject of his friend.

Colonel Fitzwilliam entered their conversation again, saying, “I had no idea I might encounter so many lovely ladies so close to Rosings. I will insist that you all dine with us tomorrow. Your sister,” he indicated Mary, “says that both she and you play very well. Can we expect ‘Greensleeves’ or ‘The Lass of Richmond Hill’? — I much prefer good English folk tunes to any of those complicated foreign pieces, or the Irish jigs always popular these days.”

“Does your sister still play the piano so much?” Elizabeth asked Darcy, rather than replying to Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Darcy flushed. Georgiana had at first declared that she ought not play anything, because she enjoyed it too much. That lasted three months whole. “Only recently has she returned to the practice,” Darcy replied. “But I am very happy to hear her.”

“And she always plays,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, “those complicated foreign pieces I was presently railing against. Young women like to prove their facility with such pieces. A talent at a simple tune says that the girl enjoys music.”

Having had enough of standing in this room, surrounded by far taller persons who she did not know well, Emily exclaimed, “Lalalala. Lalalala.”

“We’ll go very soon, dear.” Darcy picked her up. “Now pray, should I flip you upside down?”

“No, no.”

Darcy sighed at the reply. He sometimes worried that when he had always flipped her upside down before she could clearly say no, that this had been something she did not enjoy, for all that she had giggled and grinned.

Elizabeth laughed. “She speaks so much more clearly now. And she can express firm preferences already.” With a sly look Elizabeth added, “Much like her grandmother.”

Darcy groaned and Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed.

“That is not a notion which will recommend you to Darcy,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “But perhaps to others here.”

Emily said, “Lalalala.” And she pointed firmly out the door.

“Very well, very well.” Darcy then said to Elizabeth, “I fear we must take our leave. She will only become more demanding the longer I wait.”

“And what does ‘lalala’ mean?”

“Walk.”

Elizabeth laughed. That awkwardness of the first meeting suddenly melted away into their usual easy comradery. She said, “I can confess to liking walks as well.”

“Miss Bennet, you must allow me to apologize for how suddenly I departed, without us having any parting, and—”

“No, no need to apologize. The manner of your departure proved beyond doubt that you had an urgent matter of serious business. No offense was ever taken.”

“I also must thank you for the great kindness you did to Emily when you attended on her before I called her back to Pemberley.”

“Oh, she was always a joy to be around. I do believe that Nell is the person who chiefly owed me thanks, and she has already given it voluminously. Is Nell well, did she come south with you?”

“Settling into the nursery and ensuring that it will match my preferences. We had all of Emily’s toys and books brought in the trunks. We’ve weaned the girl, though. A few months past.”

“Lalalalala,” was the renewed demand from Emily, combined with struggling to be put down. She immediately ran to the door and tried reaching the handle.

This drew a laugh from Elizabeth. “A confident little muffin.”

Darcy then went off, he thought that Elizabeth might have very much liked to walk with him, if they were not to return directly to Rosings. And also, if not for the presence of Colonel Fitzwilliam who studied Elizabeth with an amused and knowing expression.

Soon as the door was closed, and they’d walked off fifteen feet, Colonel Fitzwilliam clapped his hands and laughed. “You old bull. Hiding such a thing from me. You are infatuated with the girl.”

“I am not.” Darcy put Emily down. “Do you wish to run?”

She instead immediately turned back to him and put her arms up.

“Are you certain?” Darcy asked.

“Up.”

Darcy cooed and pulled the girl up into his arms, kissing her on the cheek and exclaiming, “Yes, up! Up! Very good, can you say it again?”

She grinned at him and said, “Up.”

Seeing Colonel Fitzwilliam’s expression, Darcy explained, “She has never said ‘up’ before.”

“And even though you provide all the mother a girl might need,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, “I am confident that the whole purpose of your visit to Rosings is contained in that cottage.”

Darcy’s colour was high.

But he could not deny that he had an interest in Elizabeth, because he plainly did. After pondering the question, Darcy said at last, “She is a dear friend. We enjoyed speaking.”

“Such a dear friend that you will brave the bat in her cave so that she might shed one of her smiles upon you. Darcy, my friend, I never thought I’d live to see the day when you stammered around a woman like that — and what is this about her having cared for Emily?”

“Nothing to it,” Darcy replied, waving his hand. “She simply called on Netherfield and spent the day with Emily after I’d gone after Georgiana.”

“She wanted to convince you she would make a fine mother for Emily,” Colonel Fitzwilliam replied confidently. “Not how I would recommend myself to you, if I wished to convince you to marry me , but then she cannot know you as well as I do.”

Darcy replied cheerfully, “I do not believe that was her primary motivation.”

“Of course it was. And what is her background and connections?” Colonel Fitzwilliam shrugged. “An excellent connection mixing with her impoverished clerical cousin. Or is she the impoverished cousin mixing with her fortunate clerical relation? — I see she is from your manner. So, shall you burden us all with relations beneath our notice otherwise? And a crowd of grasping cousins who hope for a contribution to their purchase of commissions and livings and everything else?”

What did any of that matter in the slightest?

There were reasons to not marry Elizabeth, of course. Chiefly that he had determined to not marry, to show respect to Anne.

But…

He was now here again in Rosings. He was in the place that Anne had grown up, and in a place where he had seen her many times over the first twenty years of her life. When he’d been a young man, he’d thought little of Cousin Anne. And she’d been unhappy then. That had been Lady Catherine’s fault. Anne had often made casual references to things which happened in her childhood, without realizing how enraging they seemed to Darcy.

Little cruelties and humiliations that Lady Catherine had subjected her to.

She had always ensured that they donated a great deal to the orphanage in Derby. He had continued that practice since she died. Anne had identified with sad and unhappy children, and she wanted to see some of those children able to find a piece of joy and happiness.

That had been part of why she’d wished to have a child so much, so that she could raise them so they might be happy while still a child.

As Darcy continued to not reply, Colonel Fitzwilliam added, “I perceive that I have offended you. Let me emphasize, when I refer to a fear of poor connections, I do not speak for myself but chiefly in loco parentis mei .”

The mangling of the Latin phrase drew an annoyed laugh from Darcy. “I never gave your father any indication that I’d let him interfere in my business.”

“You in fact,” Colonel Fitzwilliam replied, “have given him many indications of quite the opposite — have you dropped your fool notion that you cannot marry again because you owe Anne something because you did not love her?”

Darcy grimaced. “She was a kind woman. And she deserved happiness after how she was raised by Lady Catherine, and—”

“You were a good husband. And what is more, faithful. Most wives cannot say so much about their husband. Not in our class. My mother certainly cannot, nor my sister-in-law. Should I ever marry, especially if it is a ‘splendid match’, my wife very possibly will not be able to say so much about me.”

“I live according to my own morals, not those of society around me.”

“But you do hope to marry Miss Bennet?”

Darcy did not reply.

He did. That was the clear and simple motive that had driven him here. And he knew he would ask her, and that he could not resist the desire to do so. But…

Had he not owed Anne more?

“If you do not intend to marry her, I wonder about you.” Colonel Fitzwilliam raised his eyebrows. “Oh, and you ought to be cautious about raising hopes and expectations.”

He had already done that once.

“I assure you, I shall not do that.” He would ask her to marry him. But Darcy also was not sure what she would say.

She was a woman who could, no matter how great the difference in their situations, tell him nay.