“I am on my way to bed,” said she, unwilling to endure another minute with him.
“It is vital that we discuss your conduct tonight,” said he, moving to block her path and prevent her from climbing the stairs to her room and its freedom from the torture of his company.
“As an engaged woman,” began he, to which Elizabeth drew in her breath, prepared to censure him without pity. How dare he question her behavior when his mere presence had been a blight on the gathering?
From the corner of her eye, she saw her aunt and uncle hurry from the library entrance to her side, the concern on their faces a worry for her. What was wrong? Mrs. Gardiner looked angry, and he seemed upset as well.
She tried to prepare herself, but ignorance of the problem prevented anything more than patience and dread.
“Were Colonel Fitzwilliam’s stories not entertaining?” said Mr. Gardiner, placing a gentle hand on Mr. Collins’s back and propelling him toward the sitting-room. “I thought I would die laughing at his description of conditions in France. No melons for breakfast other than the occasional lemon? How did they survive?”
His voice faded as they entered the room, leaving Elizabeth alone with her aunt.
“Go to bed,” suggested she, “before you lose the chance.”
“Thank you,” she replied, climbing the stairs without sparing a glance toward Mr. Collins, who, from the replies she overheard, appeared interested in Mr. Gardiner’s comment.
She hurried to her bedroom, closing and locking the door behind her. If that man wanted to berate her, he would have to wait until morning. Even then, Elizabeth was not sure she would allow him to say anything.
Chapter V
When the day of the Christmas assembly dawned, Elizabeth seriously considered whether to spend most of the day in bed, claiming a headache and avoiding the effusions of the exhausting parson who was the last man in the world whom she could ever be prevailed upon to marry.
Her better judgment soon convinced her to rise, however, for even if she might potentially be forced to dance twice with the detestable Collins, he could not claim all of her sets, and she might as well make merry at Christmas whenever she had the opportunity to do so. She hated the notion that Mr. Collins would expect any of her sets, but she knew she could not refuse him. She only hoped that she might be able to avoid his theft of her first dance.
When Elizabeth entered the drawing-room, she was unsurprised to find Mr. Collins and her mother awaiting her appearance. Thankfully, however, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were also to be found within.
“Miss Elizabeth,” began the simpering voice of the parson, only to be cut off by Mrs. Gardiner.
“Mr. Collins,” said Elizabeth’s dear aunt, “I heard you speaking of the number of chimneys at Rosings Park the other day, but I dare say that I missed some of the details.”
Elizabeth nearly snorted at that—for Mrs. Gardiner to have any interest at all in such a subject was nearly incomprehensible—but she smothered her sudden amusement and gave her aunt a thankful look. Obviously, Mrs. Gardiner meant to divert Mr. Collins’s attention from her favorite niece when she could.
“Surely there are other subjects that we might discuss,” said Mrs. Bennet, her brow furrowed in irritation at this foiling ofher plans to facilitate conversation between Mr. Collins and Elizabeth.
“I do not mind at all, madam,” said Mr. Collins with a decidedly greasy smile. “I am in fact rather fond of the topic.”
They spent some time in this manner—with Mrs. Gardiner attempting to forestall the parson’s efforts to address Elizabeth while Mrs. Bennet countered the interference with increasing displeasure.
At last, the arrival of guests from Netherfield brought a welcome relief to those gathered in the drawing-room at Longbourn. A touch of warmth colored Jane’s cheeks at the sight of Mr. Bingley, Kitty and Lydia giggled with each other over the sight of Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Elizabeth found herself strangely pleased at the sight of the third guest: Mr. Darcy.
Save for the absence of Miss Darcy, who was resting in anticipation of the evening’s festivities, the only cloud to darken the brightness of their arrival came in the form of one Caroline Bingley. The woman’s grumpy expression reminded Elizabeth of a wet cat, and she wondered why Miss Bingley even bothered to come at all. Surely she could have concocted some believable excuse about needing to prepare herself for the evening’s assembly.
Yet come she had, and the rest of the party no doubt would be forced to withstand her dour looks the entirety of her time at Longbourn.
“The appearance of neighbors can always bring naught but good cheer,” said Mr. Collins solemnly. “Of course, I am rather fortunate in that I may lay claim to the best of neighbors, the most honorable Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I most vehemently thank our Lord and Savior for the opportunity to experience her ladyship’s most generous condescension, for it is not often that one is bequeathed with the chance to dine with the most esteemed daughter of an earl.”
“You are quite right, Mr. Collins,” said Mrs. Bennet absently. She then gestured with her hands and a jerk of her head for Mr. Collins to join her across the room for what she no doubt meant to be a private conversation. “Please come here, Mr. Collins, for there is something that I must show you.”
The man hurried to join her, and a hushed discussion commenced between them.
Seated near Elizabeth, Miss Bingley sneered as she looked at the parson. “I rather think the doings of an earl’s daughter bear scarcely any mentioning when in the actual presence of an illustrious man such as Mr. Darcy.”
She then turned her eyes on Elizabeth. “Of course, a woman unfortunate enough to be in possession of country manners must only be enthralled by tales of dining with an earl’s daughter.”
“I am afraid I do not know what you mean,” said Elizabeth coolly. “Personally, I believe that the personality of a lady or gentleman should hold far more interest to me than the strength of any claimed connections. Rather, I think that there are others among us who value appearance over substance—and who would prefer rising above their circumstances instead of acknowledging their own limitations.”
Before Miss Bingley could unleash a retort, Mr. Darcy, who had maneuvered himself so that he would be close to Elizabeth, spoke. “Miss Elizabeth, I wished to request your first two dances at the assembly if you are not otherwise engaged.”
