Six
Another night passed in equal restlessness for Elizabeth, and she only fell asleep an hour before dawn broke, waking again as the first strains of light glowed in the sky. More than anything, she wondered at herself for caring so deeply about the whole situation surrounding Mr Darcy, a gentleman who had made such a strangely powerful impression on her, both negative and positive. She had known him for less than a fortnight, yet she thought of him more than any other man of her acquaintance.
Mr Wickham’s accusations bothered her more than they should. What if Mr Darcy truly had treated his father’s godson with disregard? But their dealings were certainly not her business. Still in a nervous state of mind, Elizabeth dressed herself and left the room. It was too early even for Mr Ash, who glanced at her, then continued his sleep by the fire, but she needed a walk to calm herself and to gather some patience and composure before she had to face Mr Collins again.
The autumn morning was cold, damp, and foggy, the grass slippery, but Elizabeth was too anxious for caution. She kept to the woodland behind the house, undecided whether she should go farther or just sit in her favourite wild, secluded place and enjoy the fresh air. However, she had little choice when she noticed the shape of a man and a horse, waiting. She startled and covered her mouth with her hand until she heard a voice calling her.
“Miss Bennet?”
“Mr Darcy? What are you doing here, sir? Has something happened?”
“No…I was just taking a ride and thought it would be too early for company…”
“Yes, I believed the same.”
“Am I bothering you?”
“No…I am just surprised. You are rather far from Netherfield,” she said, her voice unsteady.
“I am,” he replied with a smile.
“By accident? Or is it yet another coincidence?”
“Another coincidence?”
“Yes…my cousin Mr Collins arrived two days ago. He happens to be the clergyman for the parish of Hunsford, which is under your aunt’s patronage.”
“Lady Catherine de Bourgh?”
“Yes.”
“My aunt wrote to me of a new clergyman she is apparently very pleased with. That he is your cousin is indeed quite a strange coincidence.”
“You should be warned that Mr Collins has discovered your presence here and is overjoyed at the prospect of making your acquaintance. I wonder whether you will be pleased or irritated to meet him.”
“I doubt I shall experience either sentiment at a mere introduction. Why would I?”
“Mr Collins is exceedingly skilful at offering compliments and at worshipping certain people. Your aunt is the main recipient of his adoration, and you might be the second.”
“Oh…now I understand why Lady Catherine speaks so highly of him.” Mr Darcy smiled. “I assume I shall be irritated by the introduction, in that case.”
“You have not answered my question yet, sir.”
“Forgive me, what was the question?”
“Whether you are here at this early hour by accident or due to another coincidence.”
“Neither. I came with the hope of meeting you, either on your walk or perhaps later, when I intend to pay Mr Bennet a visit.”
“Oh…” She was surprised by his straight answer. “Is there anything particular that you wish to speak to me about?”
“Yes, though I am not sure I should take such liberties, considering the newness of friendship. Forgive me — will you allow me to call it that?”
“Of course…” she answered, now utterly dumbfounded. He had come to talk to her? On what possible subject? And he considered them to be friends, after they had only spoken a few times? What could he have to tell her that might be considered taking liberties?
“Mr Darcy, we hardly know each other, but I trust you will not open an improper conversation. So please speak freely since you seem agitated.”
“I am… I was told yesterday you met someone. A certain George Wickham.”
