“Excellent,” said Mr. Darcy. “Quite good.”
“I’m ever so confused at this moment,” said Charlotte.
CHAPTER THREE
elizabeth
“Mrs. Collins and her sister have gone into town this morning to do some shopping for ribbons for their bonnets,” said Mr. Collins as I came into the breakfast parlor that morning.
Right, yes, that was what he said every morning. I sat down heavily at the table and gave him a wan smile.
Last night—or not last night, as the case may be—after Charlotte had denied Mr. Darcy’s offer of marriage, the dinner had gone rather strangely at Rosings. Mr. Darcy had attempted to engage me in conversation throughout the evening, but I had largely ignored him, because, after all, I hated him. He was horrible and thought far too well of himself and all he seemed to do was to take advantage of people.
I would not put it past the universe itself to have cursed him to live this day out over and over again, just to teach him a lesson. He should learn to be humble and to think of others besides himself.
Why had I gotten caught up in this curse, however? Why was this happening to me?
Mr. Collins was speaking to me, “They wished to go quite early so that Mrs. Collins could be back in time to accompany me on my outing to visit a few sickly members of the church.”
“Of course,” I said. He said that every morning.
Suddenly, Mr. Darcy loomed in the doorway to the breakfast parlor. He was not entirely dressed. He had no waistcoat beneath his jacket (which was unbuttoned) and he was in the middle of tying his cravat.
“Sir, please!” came the cry of a servant, who pushed past Mr. Darcy. Out of breath, the servant puffed, “Mr. Darcy has come to call.”
“This is quite irregular,” said Mr. Collins, looking up at him.
“Yes, sorry about that,” said Mr. Darcy. He looked around the room. “Where is your wife, Mr. Collins?”
“Town,” I said. “Shopping for ribbons. Every Thursday, I wake to find that Charlotte and Maria are out buying ribbons.”
“Every Thursday?” said Mr. Collins. “No, no, just today, Miss Bennet.”
Mr. Darcy finished tying his cravat. “I see,” he said, furrowing his brow. “Town, you say? Well, I guess I’m off to find her. Do you know which shop?”
“Why are you doing that?” I said. “What do you care about Charlotte?”
“I’m conducting an experiment, Miss Bennet,” he said. “I should think that was obvious.”
“What sort of experiment?” said Mr. Collins.
Mr. Darcy ignored him. “You didn’t see her this morning, I suppose?”
“Me?” I said. “No, I never do. I wake, I come out here, and it’s only Mr. Collins.”
“Mmm,” said Mr. Darcy. “Well, that’s not promising, I must say, but it’s also hardly decisive either way.” He walked out of the breakfast parlor.
“Did he just walk off without saying goodbye?” said Mr. Collins, affronted.
“Yes, pardon me, Mr. Collins,” I said, going after Mr. Darcy. I found him going through the hallway, heading for the front door of the parsonage. “What sort of experiment?” I called.
He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Come now, you’re more intelligent than that, Miss Bennet. You know what sort of experiment.”
“You think that since she refused your offer of marriage, she’s going to be living this day again, too, like us?”
He shrugged.
I should like to have Charlotte’s company if I was cursed in this way, I supposed. “I shall accompany you to town,” I said.
