Chapter 13
Altered Designs
Before the company dispersed from the luncheon table, an incident occurred which surprised several members of the family more than the subject of Mr. Darcy had done.
Mr. Collins, who had until that moment applied himself very steadily to his plate, now set down his knife and fork with an air of solemn resolution.
He cleared his throat. The sound was slight, yet it had already become sufficiently familiar in the Bennet household to command attention.
“My dear Miss Mary Bennet,” said he, turning toward her with marked formality, “might I request the honour of a short walk in the garden after we have concluded our meal?”
Mary looked up in evident surprise. “A walk, sir?”
“If it should be agreeable to you,” Mr. Collins continued, bowing with great gravity, “I have long found that rational conversation conducted amidst the beauties of nature possesses an improvement which cannot always be obtained indoors.”
Mrs. Bennet stared at him in visible confusion. “Mary?” she said at last. “Mr. Collins, I believe you must mean Lizzy.”
Elizabeth nearly choked on her wine. “But Mama!” she exclaimed.
Mr. Collins, however, remained perfectly composed. “I thank you for the suggestion, madam,” said he with stately politeness, “but my request was very intentionally addressed to Miss Mary.”
Mary, who had coloured deeply, cast down her eyes and attempted to arrange her napkin with great composure.
Mrs. Bennet blinked twice in evident astonishment. “Well! I am sure I do not know what there is in a walk that requires so much particularity.”
Mr. Bennet, who had watched the exchange with increasing amusement, leaned back in his chair. “My dear,” said he mildly, “Mr. Collins appears perfectly capable of choosing his own walking companion.”
Elizabeth bit her lip to prevent a smile, while Lydia and Kitty exchanged looks of undisguised curiosity.
Mr. Collins rose with great dignity. “Miss Mary, whenever you are ready.”
Mary stood, still somewhat flushed but evidently pleased, and accepted the invitation.
Elizabeth watched them depart toward the garden with a mixture of relief and astonishment.
“Poor Mary,” Lydia whispered.
Elizabeth shook her head softly. “On the contrary,” she murmured, “I believe Mary may be the most satisfied person in the room.”
***
The morning following Mr. Bingley’s departure for London began with an air of unusual stillness at Netherfield.
Miss Bingley descended to breakfast with a mixture of impatience and determination. The previous day had proved most unsatisfactory. Mr. Darcy had scarcely been seen at all. He had spent the greater part of the day in his room, had declined every invitation to walk or dine with the family, and had even requested that his dinner be sent upstairs – a proceeding so unlike his usual habits that Caroline had found it both puzzling and provoking.
She had therefore resolved that this morning the matter must be settled. Mr. Darcy could not avoid the breakfast table forever. Yet when she entered the room, she found the table entirely deserted. The tea was prepared, the dishes arranged, the fire bright, but no one was present. Caroline stood still for a moment, her expression tightening slightly. She rang the bell.
A footman appeared almost immediately.
“Has Mr. Darcy not yet come down?”
“He has already breakfasted, miss.”
Caroline stared at him. “At what hour?”
“Shortly after seven.”
“And where is he now?”
