I had no idea what he meant, but Lizzy said, “I believe Mr Darcy just alluded to a desire for Mr Denny to see moreactiveservice to the crown.”
I found it hard to believe, and Mr Denny apparently did so as well. “I find myself satisfied with my present situation, sir.”
He was doing a reasonable job of brazening it out, though sweat broke out on his forehead. It was difficult to imagine any dispute between the men from a staring contest to a duel ending in Mr Denny’s favour. However much we feared or disliked Mr Darcy, nobody could deny that he was formidable.
Mr Darcy simply stared at him until I thought he might squirm a hole in the lane, then finally spoke.
“You have important business with either me or my cousin. Make your choice,” he said with a voice that would break stone.
Mr Denny twitched around a few more minutes, but then the fight went out of him. “I accept your kind offer, sir.”
I wondered who Mr Darcy’s cousin could be if he was so frightening that Mr Denny preferred open warfare with the French.
“Let us speak with Colonel Forster,” Mr Darcy said amicably and dismounted.
Mr Bingley looked as confused as my sisters but even Lydia had barely enough sense to stay away from Mr Darcy when he was feeling irascible.
I, of course, knew exactly what happened. Mr Darcy was using his status to ensure Mr Denny paid for his crimes with service to the crown. It was a neat solution, solving the issue without putting his sister’s reputation at risk. I wondered if Mr Denny was the first such volunteer the man had procured, and had high hopes the ringleader was already gone (or dead).
I had no idea if Mr Denny would ultimately go along with the scheme or run away, but I had heard the army kept a good supply of rope for those who absconded from their duty. They also had a great number of men stationed in England with nothing but time on their hands and plenty of leisure for hunting deserters. I supposed once you signed up for the King’s shilling, you took it.
A glance at Lizzy led me to believe she had come to the same conclusion, and a begrudging look of respect on her face indicated she did not exactly disapprove of the Derbyshire gentleman’s actions. I found that fascinating. Elizabeth, at least momentarily, unambiguously approved of the man! She had not been comprehensive about all their interactions at Netherfield, so I had no idea if it was a new feeling, or the man had already been rising in her esteem.
I had even less of an idea what he thought of her. He watched her often, but neither of us had ever seen any sign of particular regard. I vowed to observe him closely.
9.Uncertainty- Elizabeth
It would be the grossest falsehood to claim my uncertainty about Mr Darcy was assuaged after the meeting in Meryton.
Mr Bingley left Mr Darcy to his own devices and returned with us to Longbourn to share his personal invitation for the Netherfield Ball, set for the twenty-sixth of November. He barely escaped a dinner invitation, indicating he had other invitations to deliver, but my mother made him promise on his life he would attend one after the ball.
Jane and I could not wait to go to bed and discuss the extraordinary events of the day. Naturally, with Lydia and Kitty having a first-rate view of the happenings, little else was mentioned the rest of the day. Everyone had an opinion about Mr Darcy’s officiousness, and since most believed he was a rather surly gentleman at best, he must have had a score to settle with the young lieutenant.
Naturally, Lydia and Kitty at first believed Mr Denny could not possibly be at fault because he was so handsome, he wore a red coat, and he paid them particular attention.
To silence them, I said, “That is all true, sisters, but you must admit the counterargument.”
“What is that, Lizzy?” Kitty asked breathlessly.
“Taciturn or not, you must admit Mr Darcy is fearsomely handsome.”
I had no idea why I said that, save that my younger sisters’ voices were giving me the megrim. I would have escaped the parlour entirely had my mother not insisted I continue to attend Mr Collins. One could speak about Mrs Bennet a great deal without once using the words malleable, complaisant, or accommodating. She was stubborn as the tides (like me), and that afternoon my aching head made it easier to tolerateMr Collins than to argue with my mother. That would not necessarily be true any other day.
I learnt the folly of my words almost immediately, and the repercussions and ramifications were not even close to what I expected. Defending Mr Darcy in any way seemed to violate some fundamental law of nature, and calling him handsome certainly went against the grain (regardless of how true it was—even disregarding his sultry voice).
I fully expected my younger sisters or my mother to double or treble their teasing, or worse yet, attempt to pair me with the man, but the hammer blow came from an unexpected source.
“Mr Darcy!Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy!” my cousin shouted as if he had discovered the Philosopher’s Stone in our parlour.
I stared at the man and wondered what he was about, but as with all things related to our cousin, a long wait was not required.
“What luck! What unaccountable luck! What astonishingly good fortune! What astoundingly auspicious tidings! I truly feel blessed! I wonder if he will be displeased that I did not greet him, but of course I had no idea he was here. Oh, mercy me! Oh my!”
“Make sense, for once, Mr Collins!” I said rather snappishly.
“How could I have presumed you might be acquainted with such a distinguished gentleman? Why, he is the very favourite nephew of my noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I have been absent from Rosings less than a week and to already, quite by chance, encounter a relative of my noble patroness is too serendipitous for words.”
All of us stared at him, while I thought his assertion his luck was too good for words was even farther from the mark than his usual blathering.
