She wore a bonnet trimmed simply, her gown modest and suited to the morning, but she seemed more beautiful to him than any woman in London’s most crowded ballroom. There was color in her cheeks from the air, though not enough to hide the weariness beneath it. Her expression was composed, but he knew her better now; he saw the guardedness, the care with which she kept her thoughts to herself.
Bingley, delighted beyond caution, rode forward at once and dismounted. “Miss Bennet! How fortunate. I had meant to call at Longbourn to inquire after your health.”
Jane blushed beautifully. “You are very kind, Mr. Bingley. I am much improved.”
“I am excessively glad to hear it.”
Darcy dismounted more slowly, schooling his features as the rest of the party turned. Elizabeth’s eyes touched his and thenmoved away. Not with the quick warmth of the library. Not with the shared amusement of the dining table. This was politeness without invitation.
He had taught her that with his own behavior, and she was now returning like for like.
Jane, recovering herself, gestured to the clergyman at her side. “Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, allow me to introduce our cousin, Mr. Collins. He is lately arrived from Kent.”
The man in black bowed with great ceremony first to Bingley, then to Darcy, though his gaze sharpened noticeably at the second name.
“Mr. Darcy?” he repeated. “Not Mr. Darcy of Pemberley?”
Darcy inclined his head, already feeling his expression close. “The same.”
Mr. Collins’s face lit with the peculiar triumph of a man who had discovered a connection he intended to use at once. “Then I am most particularly honored. Most particularly. I am privileged, sir, to be known to your esteemed aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, whose gracious patronage has placed me in the humble but respectable living of Hunsford. A living, I may add, of which I am most sensible, as it places me beneath the eye of one of the greatest ladies in the kingdom.”
Darcy’s shoulders stiffened. “My aunt is very kind to those she chooses to notice.”
“Kind! Benevolent! Condescending beyond all measure.” Mr. Collins clasped his hands before him. “I am delighted to inform you that all at Rosings are in excellent health. Her ladyship’s wisdom is as penetrating as ever, her generosity as active, and Miss de Bourgh as lovely and accomplished as one could desire in a lady of her exalted station.”
Everyone stared, but Mr. Collins continued prattling on, apparently encouraged by his own importance. “Indeed, the whole establishment at Rosings is exquisite beyond description.I often say to my cousins that they can hardly imagine the grandeur until they behold it for themselves. And as to Miss de Bourgh, your betrothed—”
Elizabeth let out a small gasp, and Darcy’s stomach turned over within him.
“There is no formal engagement,” he said sharply. “No such betrothal exists.”
The officers looked interested. Lydia did as well. Jane’s eyes widened with discomfort. Elizabeth’s face had lost its color.
Mr. Collins blinked, then smiled with a repellent air of understanding. “Ah. Yes. To be sure. These delicate family arrangements are not always to be spoken of publicly. Lady Catherine has, of course, long expressed her hopes, but I shall say no more. No more at all.” He tapped the side of his nose and gave a little wink. “A clergyman must be discreet.”
Darcy stared at him.
The urge to mount and leave became almost overwhelming.
He could not look at Elizabeth, and yet not looking was worse. When he did, very briefly, her eyes were lowered. She was pale, her gloved hands folded too tightly before her, her entire manner still with the effort of concealment. She had heard. Of course she had heard. And from Mr. Collins’s vulgar insinuation, she might now believe all of it true.
“My aunt speaks with more confidence than authority on many subjects,” Darcy said, his voice colder than he intended. “I should be obliged if you would not repeat her conjectures as fact.”
“Certainly, certainly. Your wish is my command.” Mr. Collins bowed again. “I would never presume to intrude upon matters of such consequence. I meant only to assure you of the continued good health and greatness of your relations, which dear cousin Elizabeth shall soon have the opportunity to verify for herself, should Providence smile upon our domestic arrangements.”
Elizabeth winced.
It was slight. Anyone else might have missed it.
Darcy did not.
“Domestic arrangements?” Bingley asked, bewildered.
Mr. Collins drew himself up with solemn satisfaction. “I have come to Longbourn, sir, in the hope of healing old family divisions and making what amends lie in my power for the unhappy entail. A gentleman in my position must act with delicacy, but I trust my meaning is not obscure.”
He punctuated this last statement by taking Elizabeth’s arm on his and patting it with his other hand.
Darcy’s hand tightened upon the reins.
