Matters continued in this fashion throughout the afternoon. The company was boisterous, indulging in the typical Christmas games mixed with lively conversation, and Mr. Collins reading the Christmas story from the New Testament in his droning voice. The sight of Lady Catherine, her face covered in flour as she retrieved the bullet that had dropped when she made her cut seemed to bring her nephews to hilarity. Everyone else had the sense to avoid laughing at the grand matron, and Mr. Collins went on a long monologue of her superior bullet-retrieval skills.
Throughout that afternoon, Elizabeth watched as others interfered with Mr. Collins’s ability to stalk her. Even that was not enough, as she had to dodge him more than once. The man was so oblivious and seemed even more determined to catch her, that she worried an accidental compromise might result from his zeal. Even worse was the thought that he might do so with a malign intention to end her protests.
When evening came, the housekeeper entered the sitting-room to announce dinner, and Elizabeth noted with bemusement how Mr. Darcy moved at once to secure her hand as a partner for dinner.
“Mr. Darcy,” came the nasal voice of Mr. Collins at once, “while I understand your preference for my cousin’s company, I must insist you allow her betrothed the privilege of escorting her to dinner.”
“Of course, she must dine with Mr. Collins!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet, a hint of manic displeasure accompanying her nervous hand gestures.
“Mr. Collins!” snapped Elizabeth, unwilling to allow either ofthem to say another word. “If you refer to me as your betrothed again, you shall feel the full fury of my displeasure. Not only am Inotyour betrothed, but Inevershall be!”
So saying, she accepted Mr. Darcy’s hand, pushing him to lead them from the room, which he did with a certain sense of bemusement. When they entered the dining-room, Elizabeth was certain Mr. Collins meant to ensure he sat on her other side from Mr. Darcy, but Mr. Darcy foiled his attempts by seating her next to his aunt, who sat next to Mr. Bingley as the highest-ranking visitor in the room. Mr. Collins, appearing quite put out, sat next to Mr. Darcy and attempted to commandeer all his attention, preventing him from paying any heed to Elizabeth. This arrangement, and Jane’s position on Mr. Bingley’s other side, rendered Elizabeth susceptible to Lady Catherine’s inquisition.
“Our positions are fortunate, Miss Elizabeth,” said Lady Catherine during the soup course, “for I would like to know more of you.”
Elizabeth regarded her ladyship. The story of Lady Catherine’s wish to have Mr. Darcy as a son-in-law moved through her mind, and she wondered if the lady had noted Mr. Darcy’s attention and meant to be severe with her. Polite behavior, however, dictated she answer the lady with civility.
“I am happy to tell you anything you wish to know.”
The lady returned a faint smile. “There is no need to treat my interest as an examination, Miss Elizabeth.”
Her ladyship’s jest was nothing less than unexpected. “Yes, that is for the best. Otherwise, we risk a superficial acquaintance, for it is in the exchange of ideas and opinions that a true acquaintance may be forged.”
“An intelligent girl, it seems,” said Lady Catherine. “You are perhaps a little forthright, but that is not necessarily a drawback.”
What followed was nothing less than an interrogation, regardless of Lady Catherine’s assertions. The lady inquired into her education, accomplishments, and opinions about various subjects, all with the probing of a master interrogator. Whenever she could, Elizabeth responded with questions of her own, to which the lady replied without hesitation, though turning the conversation back to Elizabeth. What she discovered Elizabeth could not say, though she did not think she had displeased the lady.
Through the questions, Mr. Collins watched and preened, interpreting Lady Catherine’s actions as evidence she approved of his choice. Elizabeth did not dispute his opinion, not knowing enough of her ladyship to decide. The few times he inserted his opinion were unwanted, for Lady Catherine’s glares always silenced him at once, leading Elizabeth to wonder if her purpose was not different from what Mr. Collins believed. Mr. Darcy, for his part, watched and listened, but rarely interjected an opinion, content to allow his aunt to say what she would. The conversation remained pleasant, regardless of Lady Catherine’s insistence on learning more of her, leaving Elizabeth well pleased.
After dinner, when the party returned to the sitting-room eschewing the separation of the sexes considering the occasion, Darcy noted that the insistent parson grew ever more persistent. Miss Elizabeth could not speak to anyone without the man inserting himself, speaking over her, intruding upon her interactions, rendering her unable to enjoy the evening. Mrs. Bennet, it was equally obvious, was all but cheering him on, intent upon the match as she was. Miss Elizabeth’s statements had been of such force that Darcy had no concern she would capitulate. But the possibility of compromise, accidental or otherwise, appeared to be growing by the moment.
“Perhaps you should give Miss Elizabeth some room, Collins,” growled Darcy to the man on one occasion when he attempted to interfere with her conversation with Georgiana. “She does not need you looking over her shoulder all evening.”
Mr. Collins, in a move Darcy would not have expected from the sycophantic fool, sniffed at Darcy with disdain. “Being an unengaged man, you cannot understand, Mr. Darcy. And do not think I have not noted your attempts to come between us. Why Lady Catherine has not taken you in hand I cannot say, but if you persist you will provoke her to reprimand you.”
“Do you think I will allow you to harm Miss Elizabeth?” hissed Darcy, looming over the insignificant imbecile.
“If you think I mean her harm you are mistaken.” Again, Mr. Collins eyed him with disdain. “She is mine and I shall not give way. This unseemly behavior of hers will stop, for I shall not have a wife who flouts my authority in such a way.”
To Darcy, it sounded like a man who meant to mistreat his wife. At that moment, before he could say something caustic and squash the bug before him, Mr. Bennet interjected. The man nodded to Darcy, though he regarded the parson with murder in his eyes.
“If you will excuse me, Mr. Darcy, I believe I must have a word with my cousin.”
Darcy bowed, not trusting himself to speak, moving away, though staying within clear sight of the two men. In this, he found himself close to his cousin.
“It appears Mr. Bennet has finally taken a hand in this farce.”
“And it is doing little of good,” replied Darcy from between clenched teeth. “Look at him! He appears like a child denied a sweet!”
“It may be necessary to thrash him before the end of the evening.”
“I would not ruin Bingley’s party,” said Darcy. “But I shall dowhatever it takes to protect Miss Elizabeth.”
“In that venture, you will have the support of every man in the company.”
Fitzwilliam’s assertion was true, Darcy noted as he continued to watch Mr. Bennet berate his cousin, noting Collins’s petulant denials in response. Most of those present directed surreptitious glances at the parson, and almost as one, their looks were unamused. The sole exception, Miss Bingley, looked on Miss Elizabeth with glee, even as her questioning glances at Darcy appeared to be trying to make him out. Even Hurst, a man immersed in his concerns, appeared ready to rain fire and brimstone down on the obnoxious parson.
Mr. Bennet, his point made, directed one last glare at Mr. Collins and then stalked away, leaving the parson fuming. For a long moment, he regarded his cousin, impaling his back with his eyes. Then he turned on his heel and stalked off in a manner so surprising that Darcy almost did not react.
