He paused and stared out into the distance.
“Everyone knows I am the most impatient of fellows,” he continued. “But that does not mean I am utterly reckless. Even if I was, I do care enough about my sister Caroline not to marry on an impulse. I know I have a considerable amount of reflection to do, and I do agree with you that putting some time and distance between Miss Bennet and myself might help me gain a sense of perspective before I become too entangled.” He gave Darcy an unsteady smile. “Believe it or not, I do have a brain, and I am capable of working out these things myself. I was actually contemplating going to London this very afternoon.”
Darcy let out a huge sigh of relief. Bingley was taking it like a proper gentleman – with an appropriate sense of stoic resignation.
“However,” said Bingley, breaking in just as Darcy was about to congratulate him for his good sense. “I warn you. I have not given up on the idea of marrying Miss Bennet. I am only giving myself a chance to ponder the matter more thoroughly.”
Itwastoo good to be true that Bingley would surrender so easily. However, it was a start. Once in London, Darcy, along with Bingley’s sisters, would make sure to keep Bingley caught up in the amusements Town had to offer. It would not be long before he forgot all about Miss Bennet.
“Excellent,” said Darcy, confident that the matter was as good as taken care of, “then we had better turn back and begin our arrangements for departure.”
Just as they were turning, they heard a shout, and someone came trotting towards them. Darcy squinted against the sunlight to determine who it was. The rider took off his hat and began to wave it frantically.
There was no mistaking his identity. It was his aunt’s tedious rector, Collins.
“Hurry, Bingley,” said Darcy. “I am in no mood to listen to any more gibberish about my aunt.”
Bingley looked doubtful.
“Are you certain? He seems rather determined in his pursuit. If he goes any faster, he might tumble off. It looks as if the wind might knock him down. I have never seen anyone with such a bad seat. Besides, we can’t outrun a horse. He will catch up eventually.”
Bingley was right. The man looked like he might topple any minute. Much as he despised Collins, Darcy did not want an injury on his conscience.
“Oh, very well,” he said, “but I warn you, if he has nothing of importance to say, I will set off at once and leave you to deal with him.”
The two men watched as Mr. Collins approached. His clothes were askew, his hair standing on end, and his tricorn hat was crumpled in his hand. Collins’ obsequious manner usually induced fury in Darcy, but the sight of him hanging on for dear life was so ridiculous Darcy felt an unexpected impulse to laugh.
“I see you are bravely determined to exercise your horse, Collins, despite the wind,” remarked Darcy, striving to keep his expression neutral.
“Not at all, Mr. Darcy, though of course under different circumstances—” He fumbled in his clothes, took out a kerchief and began to mop his brow. “I have come directly from Longbourn. It is a matter of some urgency, but I do not know the way to Meryton. It was most fortuitous that I ran into you, Mr. Darcy. I hope you will point me in the right direction. A most terrible thing has happened.”
Any impulse to laugh was replaced with alarm.
Darcy let out an explanation. “What is it, Collins?”
“Has something happened to one of the young ladies?” said Bingley, turning white as a sheet.
“No, they are in perfect health.” He gave Bingley a superior smile. “Nothing to worry about on that front. The young ladies engage in exercise daily, and—"
“Mr. Bennet, then?” prompted Darcy impatiently, his mind racing over the implications if Mr. Bennet should fall suddenly ill.
“I know nothing about Mr. Bennet’s health. He received a letter last night. An old Oxford friend of his was taken ill. He departed early this morning.”
“Mrs. Bennet, then?” said Darcy, gritting his teeth. Would he have to name every single person in the Bennet household before Mr. Collins would provide the information he was seeking?
“How perceptive of you to guess, Mr. Darcy, but I would expect no less from a nephew of Lady Catherine. Alas, Mrs. Bennet has suffered an apoplexy. She is on her deathbed.”
Darcy bit back an oath. They had wasted precious time trying to extract information from Mr. Collins, moments better spent fetching the apothecary. What were the Bennets doing, sending a fool like this on such a vital errand? Every moment of delay risked Mrs. Bennet’s life. Why had they not sent a man servant? Elizabeth at least should have known better.
Perhaps Miss Elizabeth was in such extreme distress she was unable to think straight.
“I will take care of it,” said Darcy. “If you will give me your horse.”
“But I—”
“It is best that you return as soon as possible to Longbourn, Mr. Collins,” said Darcy. “You may inform the ladies that I will send the apothecary immediately.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” said Mr. Collins.
