Friday afternoon was one of the days that Elizabeth needed to escape the parsonage. Her cousin was in rare form. She was already inured to all his not-so-subtle hints about how she had erred in refusing him. What had spoilt her mood that day was the news Mr Collins brought from Rosings Park.
Lady Catherine had told Mr Collins that there would be fewer invitations to her home. That was not what disturbed Elizabeth; in fact, not being in the uneducated, pompous termagant’s presence was a boon. It was the reason for the upcoming lack of invites. Two of her Ladyship’s nephews were coming to visit her for a fortnight. One of them was a Colonel Fitzwilliam; he was not the issue. It was the other nephew whose presence she objected to! He was none other than the proud, arrogant, insufferable Mr Darcy of Pemberley!
What a bad turn of luck that brought that man into Kent while she was present! At least, she supposed, that other than at church, they would not see one another thanks to the fact that Lady Catherine would no longer invite those from the parsonage to her home.
Had Elizabeth been aware of Mr Darcy’s coming beforeSir William’s departure earlier that morning, she would have begged for him to take her back to Longbourn. She caught herself. What kind of friend would she be to Charlotte to turn tail and run because of that man? Also, did she not tell people that her courage always rose when someone attempted to intimidate her? She would not leave! If Mr Darcy did not enjoy her company, he was the one who needed to go.
At that moment, she remembered very similar words from Mr Wickham. She could hear his words as if he was standing next to her now. “Oh no! It is not for me to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go.” A question entered her mind unbidden. If that was what Mr Wickham said, why did he avoid Mr Darcy and keep away from the ball? Delving into that question would lead to others she did not want to consider because they may indicate that her ability to sketch characters was not as infallible as she wanted to believe. Elizabeth pushed the subject from her consciousness.
“Charlotte, I am going for a walk,” Elizabeth told her friend.
“Enjoy your second ramble of the day, Eliza,” Charlotte said.
“You know me, Charlotte, I can never walk too much. I am greatly enamoured with the groves hereabouts,” Elizabeth replied.
When she exited the house Elizabeth found her cousin standing in his garden staring at the lane beyond the parsonage. “Cousin Elizabeth, how can you leave when such august personages are about to arrive at Rosings Park?” Collins demanded.
“Mr Collins whether I am taking some exercise or seated within the house will not change when the gentlemen arrive. I bid you farewell.” With that Elizabeth was off, not caring for what the next inanity out of her cousin’s mouth would be.
She took off at speed, as she always did, and reached the drive which wended its way to the mansion just as a coach passed her.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Darcy had been thinking about Miss Elizabeth Bennet—her light and pleasing figure, her extremely fine emerald-green eyes, and her raven-coloured tresses when, as if summoned by his thoughts, there she stood next to the drive. Was he imagining things?
“Who is that pretty lady there,” Fitzwilliam cocked his head to the woman they were passing.
She was real, Richard saw her too! “I think she is someone I met in Hertfordshire.” Suddenly Darcy’s mouth went dry, and he felt sickness in the pit of his stomach. Had Caroline Bingley not said that Miss Elizabeth was to marry Aunt Catherine’s idiot parson, the one who had introduced himself at the ball? She was too good for that blithering fool! Just like Miss Bennet would have been made to accept Bingley, Miss Elizabeth would not have been permitted to refuse the man who was to inherit her father’s estate. Thinking of Miss Elizabeth—no, surely, she was Mrs Collins now—married to that dunderheaded man caused Darcy to want to cast up his accounts. He had to fight to control that urge.
“I say, William, you look rather pallid. Are you well?” Fitzwilliam queried.
“All is fine,” Darcy said sharply. Nothing was good. How could he face her if she were married to another? First, he would glean information from his aunt, after all, she liked to be of use.
They could not reach the manor house fast enough.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Elizabeth knew it was impolite to stare but stare she did as the coach passed her, and she saw Mr ‘Insufferable’ Darcy looking back at her through the window.
She did not miss the moue of distaste on his face as soon as he noticed her. ‘He more than likely thinks it is nottolerablethat one of my lowconsequencepollutes his aunt’s land,’ she thought.
As long as she kept away from the manor house, Elizabeth was certain she would be able to avoid Mr Darcy. What bad fortune for him to have seen her already. There was a silver lining, however. Now that the rude, proud man had noted her presence, she was certain he would keep his distance from the parsonage and the area around it.
She would add not seeing Mr Darcy again to her prayers this very night.
Being in nature soon relaxed Elizabeth, and she forgot about the insufferable man as she skipped her way along one of the paths in the grove she had entered.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
“You are late,” Lady Catherine pronounced when her nephews entered the drawing room.
“We are not, Aunt Catherine,” Fitzwilliam stated after he had bussed her cheek with his lips. “We are, in fact, an hour earlier than we had told you we would be here.”
Darcy also gave his aunt’s cheek a light kiss.
“Aunt, where is Anne? Is she not here to greet us?” Fitzwilliam asked. He did not miss a look of worry flash over his aunt’s countenance. There was something afoot here.
“Anne is resting, you will see her when she feels up to coming down,” Lady Catherine claimed.
