Darcy met his gaze. “It may. There are… reports now circulating abroad that Hertfordshire did not suffer in the same way. And there is truth to it, for Mr Bixby told me that your stores were nearly overrun this year.”
Miss Bingley laughed. “Really, Darcy, one would think we were sitting on a dragon’s hoard.”
“I would prefer,” Darcy said, “that we not discover whether that is how it will be described.”
Bingley frowned. “Do you mean to suggest—”
“I mean only that attention, once drawn, is not easily redirected,” Darcy replied. “And that generosity, when misunderstood, can become obligation.”
Bingley was silent now, considering. At last, he said, “You think people will come asking.”
“I think,” Darcy said, after a moment, “that they already are.”
“My dear Mr Hill,are you certain? Oh! Mr Bennet, he is here! Mr Collins… oh, look at that carriage—why, he must have a wealthy patroness, indeed. You said nothing of that, my dear. Jane! Where is Jane? Kitty, stop hovering—Lydia, do not run—Elizabeth!”
Elizabeth looked up from the book she had been pretending to read and exchanged a glance with Jane.
“That,” Jane said mildly, “sounds decisive.”
“That,” Elizabeth replied, closing the book, “sounds inevitable.”
Papa appeared in the doorway at that moment, eyes alight with the quiet delight of a man who sensed excellent sport approaching. “Ah, there he is. Two minutes early, for I should have expected no less.”
Mama was already at the door, peering through the glass nearby. “There he is! Mary, my dear, put down that book, for you must be ready to receive him. Elizabeth, you will attend as well. Kitty—Lydia—where are you?”
Lydia skidded into the room, nearly colliding with Kitty. “Is he young?”
“Is he handsome?” Kitty demanded at the same time.
Papa smiled benignly. “He is, I believe, neither. But he is quite determined to be admired nonetheless.”
Mr Collins entered as though making a presentation to a committee. He was tall, solemn, and dressed with conscientious respectability, his coat brushed smooth and his expression arranged into something he clearly believed conveyed humility. He bowed—deeply—then straightened with a faint air of relief, as though pleased to have executed the manoeuvre without mishap.
“Mr Bennet,” he said, advancing a step as he drew off his hat. “It affords me the greatest satisfaction to make your personal acquaintance at last.”
Papa inclined his head, amused already. “Mr Collins. You are very welcome to Longbourn. I trust your journey was tolerable.”
“Entirely so, sir. Entirely. I am most grateful for your willingness to receive me, particularly given the long interval that has, regrettably, passed between our families.”
Mama leaned forward, glowing. “We are delighted, I assure you. A cousin! And in holy orders! Pray, let us have your coat and come into the drawing room. You must sit—Jane, Elizabeth—”
Mr Collins turned then, evidently becoming aware that the room contained additional persons. His gaze passed over the assembled Bennets with careful neutrality, as though unwilling to hazard a guess.
“These,” Papa said mildly, “are my daughters. I shall spare you the trouble of learning all their names at once.”
Mr Collins bowed again, slightly less deeply, but with renewed solemnity. “Ladies. I am honoured.”
Jane returned the courtesy, and Elizabeth followed—though a faint pressure stirred just behind her temple, brief and unwelcome. She dismissed it at once as the lingering consequence of too much movement too soon. Mary inclined her head gravely. Kitty and Lydia performed something between a nod and a stare.
“I hope,” Mr Collins continued, folding his hands, “that my arrival does not impose upon your arrangements. I am most anxious that my visit should be conducted with perfect propriety.”
Papa gestured toward the chairs. “You find us at leisure, Mr Collins. Pray, sit.”
Mr Collins did so carefully, as though seating himself were a moral act requiring deliberation.
Mama clasped her hands. “And you must be quite fatigued after your journey. Tea shall be brought at once.”
“Tea would be most welcome,” Mr Collins said earnestly. “Lady—”
