“Very well. I am making my yearly rounds of the park. Would you care to accompany me? I shall escort you back to the parsonage afterwards.”
Pleased to accept, she fell into step beside Colonel Fitzwilliam. Unlike Sir Andrew, the colonel’s personality appealed to her. His genuine manner held no disguise, no hint of the arrogance that his cousin–and sometimes the baronet–displayed.
“I make the journey to Rosings every year with Darcy,” he said. “He handles the books, and I see to tenant concerns.”
“Lady Catherine is fortunate to have such dedicated relations.” Elizabeth kept her reply neutral. Her opinions regarding Lady Catherine would not be welcome to the ears of her nephews.
“It is Darcy’s aid she really appreciates. He is being extremely thorough this year, having already delayed our departure twice.” His walking stick hit a rock and he kicked it away.
“You must wait for your cousin to leave?”
“I am at his disposal. Darcy will depart in time to return me to my regiment.” The colonel shrugged.
“Pity he does not marry and secure himself a lasting convenience of that kind.” Her acerbic statement did not phase the colonel.
“He at least can marry where he likes. As a lowly second son, I am required to seek an heiress.”
Her heart fell. His friendly nature had encouraged her to think he might consider courting the penniless daughter of a country gentleman, but he disabused her of that notion. She rallied and replied. “And what does the son of an earl command as a dowry? I would think nothing less than fifty thousand pounds?” She named the amount in jest, but he confirmed it.
“Naturally, if I wish to live in the style to which I have become accustomed, then fifty thousand pounds is a fair aim.” He shrugged. “Darcy has the luxury of choice. He could marry my cousin Anne, or he could marry a milkmaid. Pemberley will not suffer for either.”
The thought of Mr. Darcy marrying a milkmaid caused Elizabeth to chuckle. “He would never,” she said with humor.
“No, he would not. When he does marry, it will be to an exceptional lady who holds his heart. She will be a fortunate woman. Fastidious as my cousin is, he is ever more loyal to those in his care. Why, he recently saved a friend from a most imprudent marriage.”
Elizabeth’s blood ran cold. “Did he?” she choked out. “And did Mr. Darcy give a reason for this interference?”
He did not hear the steel in her voice. “I believe there were very strong objections to the lady.”
Mr. Wickham had been correct. Mr. Darcy had interfered in Jane’s happiness. And now her sister was irrevocably tied to a stupid, sycophantic parson.
“And what arts did he use to separate them?”
He shook his head. “He did not speak to me of his methods. I only know that which I just related to you.” He turned and looked at her. “Are you well, Miss Bennet?”
“I do not think your cousin’s conduct suits my feelings,” she replied. “Who is he to judge?”
He chuckled, not understanding her ire. “You seem rather disposed to think my cousin’s actions were officious.”
“I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide on the acceptability of his friend’s inclination. Why was he so determined to act upon his own judgment and direct his friend in that manner?” She stopped, remembering herself and with whom she spoke. “But then, as we know none of the particulars; it is not fair to condemn him. Perhaps there was not much affection in this case?”
He laughed again. “If there were, then it lessens the honor of my cousin’s actions considerably.”
She stopped walking and he followed suit, turning to truly take in her countenance. “I say, Miss Bennet, is something the matter? You look… well, you do not look well.”
“It is a sudden headache,” she said. “I believe I have walked too far and too long today.”
“Then let us return to the parsonage directly.” He held out his arm and she took it. They walked in silence, and he deposited her outside the garden gate, bowing his farewell and expressing hope for her swift recovery.
Elizabeth took to her chamber for the rest of the afternoon, descending only to inform Jane she would not be accompanying the party to Rosings for supper that evening.
“Are you certain you are well, Lizzy?” Jane’s genuine concern warmed her heart and she wished she could tell her sister everything. She must be silent; Jane’s married state meant there was nothing to be done. Mr. Bingley was lost forever, even if this interference of Mr. Darcy’s could be rectified.
“I am, Jane. It is only a headache. Rest and solitude are all I need.”
“I can stay if it would bring you comfort.” Jane’s offer brought protestations from Mr. Collins.
“No, I assure you, I will be well. Go, enjoy Lady Catherine’s hospitality.” She smiled weakly.
