I think Lizzy was quite satisfied to leave Netherfield as a job well done, but I was frustrated that four days in bed were repaid with less than two hours talking to Mr Bingley. He seemed somewhat smitten, and I was trying my best within the bounds of propriety and my reticent nature, to let him know I was at least moderately interested. I do not think the visit accomplished much with respect to our nascent relationship, such as it was. I would later learn that the man improved somewhat in Lizzy’s books, which was worth something I supposed.
I thought the visit accomplished a great deal regarding the other acquaintance we were concerned with. Lizzy kept me abreast of all conversations, and I provisionally agreed that the chances of the man recognising me were close to nil. If he did not put it together during an explicit discussion about his sister, we should be safe enough. Most people follow my mother’s opinion that I am more handsome than Lizzy, but in travel bonnets with our hair covered I doubt anyone could tell us apart. Mama just likes blonde hair better than brunette if I am honest.
I also suspected Lizzy found her interactions with the other gentleman rather confusing. While she shared nearly everything with me, I was not entirely certain she shared her thoughts on Mr Darcy with herself, let alone me. I mostly thought he was just perplexing her, and Lizzy was not an aficionado of perplexity. Having convinced herself we need not fear him, I began to suspect she might actually like him, though she could well fall in love with the man without either of them being aware.They both seemed like they could be stubborn that way.
Our father, naturally saved news of an impending visit of his heir presumptive until the last minute. I at least understood his reasoning as it saved him a fortnight of fussing, but he could have at least warned Lizzy and me. However, he is our father and will never change. That he felt the need to punctuate his announcement with, ‘when I am dead, he may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases’ even mademeangry with him. Our mother’s reaction, while quite verbose, was not as unreasonable as you might think. However much Lizzy and Papa liked to disparage Mama’s screeching and fluttering, the entail was a real risk!
Mr Collins was punctual to his time, and was received with great politeness by the whole family. Papa said little; but we ladies were ready enough to talk, and Mr Collins seemed neither in need of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent himself. In fact, his inclination to be silent seemed entirely absent. As Lizzy would later say, he talked, and he talked, and he talked.
It took but a few hours to ascertain that he had come specifically to admire, and not much longer to determine that he meant to admire his future inheritance, his future estate, his future plate, and quite possibly his future wife.
I was uncertain what I thought of the man and his intentions. I know for a fact that his tendency to babble nearly drove Lizzy to distraction, especially after the first day when he began directing most of it at her. On the one hand, I could admire his intentions of taking a wife from among Longbourn’s daughters when I put my mind to it. If one of said daughters liked the man well enough, it solved several rather intractable problems neatly. I disregarded the nagging voice in my head that asserted that a man like that was unlikely to find a wife as pretty as a Bennet daughter anywhere else, and his actions smacked more of greed or desperation than generosity.
On the other hand, our cousin seemed entirely oblivious to our reactions—or anyone’s for that matter. Lizzy and I disagreed on his reasoning in a typical way. I rather charitably asserted that he just did not know any better, while she more stridently maintained that he just did not care.
In the end, the reason did not matter very much. The man latched onto Lizzy like a clingfish, and she could not shake him without rudeness or violence. Neither were beyond her capacity, but I hoped the man would get the subtle hints before she felt compelled to crush him.
A few days later, my father had endured quite enough of Mr Collins. Lizzy had more than enough as well but was not quite as fortunate. We left for a walk to Meryton, and while Lizzy would ordinarily have avoided the man by simply walking too fast to keep up, I was not up to her usual breakneck pace. She had to walk with me, which in turn had her walking with him.
The man seemed to have latched onto Lizzy with uncommon zeal, although to be fair, it was not so different from the way Mr Bingley clung to me. It now first struck Lizzy, that she was selected from among her sisters as worthy of being mistress of Hunsford Parsonage, and of assisting to form a quadrille table at Rosings, in the absence of more eligible visitors.
The whole thing got me wondering. Lizzy is nothing if not polite, and I doubt even Mr Darcy had the slightest idea that she either did not like him or was conflicted at best. In fact, after the visit, I was not even certainI knewhow she felt about him. Society judges women harshly, and we need to keep a great deal of our feelings to ourselves. While anyone who knows us even moderately well would assert that we are as different as night and day, in the end my sister and I both did the same thing—hid our feelings from anyone unknown, unworthy, or untrustworthy. Perhaps we did it because the rest of the womenin our family erred very much on the other end of the propriety scale, but true or not, it was our practice.
It seemed entirely possible Mr Collins was unaware of her feelings, much as Mr Darcy was. While Lizzy probably thought Mr Collins was close to the stupidest man in England, Mr Darcy most certainly was not, but he was still mentally stunted by his sex. I wondered if Mr Bingley had any idea if I liked him at all. To be honest, I had to admit that I had not given him a tremendous amount more encouragement than Lizzy gave Mr Collins.
Those thoughts gave me yet another headache, so just as we reached town, I determined to tell Lizzy we both needed to be more obvious about our feelings.
Lydia and Kitty naturally yelled, “Denny,” like a couple of urchins, and ran across the street. I thought about chastising them and noticed Mr Collins looking on in obvious censure. For a brief moment I thought to encourage them just to discourage Mr Collins, but the thought did not survive cursory examination.
Elizabeth turned toward me in obvious frustration, and for a moment I suspected she would ask me to say something to our cousin, when a great number of things happened quickly.
First, Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy entered town on horseback. I was gratified to find that somewhere in my heart, I was quite happy to see Mr Bingley. My doubts were assuaged. I still did not know if I would ever fall in love, but I certainly liked him a good deal and would have no objection to moving toward the next step, despite his unfortunate lot in sisters. It was not as if I could boast of the quality of mine—aside from Lizzy, obviously. I also found myself rather ready to look at Mr Darcy with fresh eyes untinged with fear.
Mr Bingley’s answering smile told me that he shared similar joy in our accidental meeting, while Mr Darcy’s traditional dour expression told me of his customary reticence, which I was less ready to call ill-nature.
As we prepared to greet our neighbours, I learnt I had only thought I knew how fearsome Mr Darcy’s countenance could get. His face turned to stone and for a frightening moment, I thought he recognised me, and my previous feelings of comfort vanished. I wondered how long I would have to be afraid of the man if the mere sight of me set him into a rage.
I have no idea what I might have said or done, had Lizzy not said, “Who in blazes is Mr Darcy staring at with that fearsome countenance… and by that, I mean fearsome even by his standards?”
With a shake of my head, I looked closer and noticed he was staring at our two sisters flirting with a couple of officers. That made me even more nervous, because to be honest, they were acting like the two most determined flirts in creation. Mr Collins seemed as if he wanted to intervene but lacked the will, but Mr Darcy certainly did not lack fortitude.
I might have continued descending into panic had I not looked over at my sisters to see exactly what the fuss was about. I gasped in shock and dropped my reticule, though thankfully nobody noticed.
Lizzy hissed, “Jane?” in a worried tone, while staring back and forth between Mr Darcy and our sisters, probably assuming Mr Darcy was looking at Kitty and Lydia with disapprobation, as any sensible man would.
I managed to whisper, “It is him, Lizzy.”
“It is who?” she asked.
With a gasping stutter, barely able to speak, I said, “Mr Denny. He is one of the ruffians—” but thought better of finishing the sentence on a public street.
Elizabeth gasped in shock and started marching toward our sisters, apparently desirous of getting them away from the villain.
She never made it, because Mr Darcy smoothly and elegantly moved his horse close enough to Mr Denny to force our sisters to either step away or be trampled.
The soldier had apparently not noticed the gentleman's approach, partially because he was staring at Lydia, or more specifically, Lydia’s… well… never mind. However, when he heard the horse, he looked up and turned white as a sheet. I thought he might die on the spot, which admittedly would have solved a great many problems.
“Mr Denny, you seem to have found yourself in the wrong service. I believe I can rectify that. It is the least I can do,” Mr Darcy said in a gravelly voice.
