It occurred to Darcy that therewassomething he could do.
Elizabeth had refused to have her father’s trip interrupted, but she needed support, and that fool Collins was worse than useless; he was a liability.
“I will send my carriage for Mr. Bennet.”
“Are you sure? Miss Elizabeth was not enamored of that idea.”
“Would you like it if someone kept a secret of this kind from you?”
Bingley gave it a moment’s thought. “No. I suppose not.”
“There you are, then. I shall go and give instructions.”
Bingley nodded. “And then we will go to Longbourn. You never know. Something unexpected may have happened.”
His presence would probably be superfluous, but he could not help remembering how subdued Elizabeth was yesterday. From there it was an easy step to convince himself that she might be in dire need of his assistance.
And besides, he really wanted to see her.
***
IT WAS MORNING, ANDthey were all assembled in the parlor. Mary was reading a sermon aloud, significantly entitled ‘On the Sin of Lying’. There was no question Mary had chosen the topic deliberately. Elizabeth was wriggling in her seat, worrying that Lydia or Kitty would grow tired of Mary’s preaching and blurt out something that would let the cat out of the bag. Lydia was already having a hard time controlling her laughter, and Kitty was giggling behind her kerchief.
Mr. Collins was smiling with approval at Mary, interrupting every now and then to elaborate on some specific theological doctrine the author of the piece was referring to. Since Mr. Collins’ explanations were sprinkled with an abundance of Greek phrases, the explanations hindered rather than assisted their understanding. Elizabeth suspected that Mr. Collins was more interested in showing off his grasp of Greek than he was in clarifying the text.
Elizabeth’s thoughts drifted instead to Mr. Darcy.
She still did not know what to make of Mr. Darcy’s behavior the day before. There was something in his eye she could not quite identify. If it was anyone else, she might have called it admiration.
Tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me.That was what he had said at the Meryton Assembly.
Mr. Darcy did not admire her, she said firmly to herself. He thought her barely tolerable. It would not do to read too much into it. He was a dutiful gentleman, and he was simply trying to be neighborly, believing their circumstances to be ominous.
Still, she could not deny that Mr. Darcy was a far better person than she had originally thought. She admired the way he had taken charge and done what was needed. Unlike Papa, who would diddle and dither when confronted with an emergency, Darcy acted quickly. He had stepped in and taken the Bennet ladies under his wing without a fuss, and without the slightest trace of the arrogant attitude Elizabeth had considered as his main characteristic. True, he had ignored Elizabeth’s attempts to dissuade him from sending an express to Papa—there was some arrogance in that—but he meant well, and she could not fault that under the circumstances.
One only had to compare him to Mr. Bingley, who had behaved in a perfectly gentlemanly manner, but had not showed the same resolution and determination. Of the two, she felt, Mr. Darcy had come off as the better man. And, of course, he was head and shoulders superior to Mr. Collins, both metaphorically and literally.
The problem was, it was impossible to think of Mr. Darcy without being consumed by guilt. Why did he suddenly have to reveal another side of him just when she was engaged in a deception? Until now, Elizabeth had convinced herself—with her forthright character—of her own superiority over him, but she no longer had a leg to stand on. Darcy’s gaze seemed to dig into her very soul, and shecringedat what he would find. Yet she had no idea how to get herself out of it. She could not expose Lydia to the mockery of strangers for having decided to secure Mr. Collins for herself. Nor could she make Mama the target of their disdain.
Feeling full of restless energy, she jumped to her feet suddenly, interrupting Mr. Collins in mid-sentence.
“I need to consult the apothecary,” she said. “Jane and I will walk into Meryton.”
Mr. Collins looked none too pleased at the interruption, but he recovered quickly.
“Of course, Cousin. It is quite to be expected that you are experiencing anxiety. We can all walk there together.”
***
AS THEY SET OUT ONthe walk, Lydia left nothing to chance. She made sure to take Mr. Collins’ arm all the way to Meryton. Elizabeth was only too happy to have Mr. Collins’ attention drawn elsewhere. She did not know what Lydia found to talk about if she was not talking of hats and officers, but one way or the other, she kept up a steady conversation.
When they reached the village, several of the officers bowed to them and greeted them, but Lydia ignored them completely. Elizabeth was both astonished and amused. Was Lydia seriously willing to give up flirting with the officers to become mistress of Longbourn?
Elizabeth remained skeptical. Still, as long as it prevented Mr. Collins from proposing, Elizabeth would be happy to provide Lydia with all the help in the world.
As they reached the village, Elizabeth and Jane excused themselves and slipped into the apothecary’s. Elizabeth needed to have a clearer idea of what could be expected if someone had suffered an apoplexy, and there was no one else who could tell her, other than Mr. Crompton.
The bell on the door tinkled as it opened, and Mr. Crompton came quickly through a back door, looking like an owl with his round eyes, round spectacles, and whisps of downy white hair. His expression changed when he saw them, and he came quickly around the counter to the front of the shop.
