A Most Civil Proposal (8 page)

“I do, Miss Bennet. Once I see Bingley.”

“Yes,” she sighed, “Mr. Bingley.”

“I will see Bingley directly I return to London,” said Darcy. “I will tell him what I have learned. I believe he will be receptive.”

Elizabeth thought of those letters from Jane, wondering whether Mr. Darcy’s mission might result in healing her sister’s pain. Realizing what that effort might cost him in terms of his pride and that he had pledged to make the attempt even if she still rejected him utterly, she was suddenly ashamed of her outburst. She could not in good faith remain so unyielding in the face of his good intentions.

“Oh, very well, sir. Repair your error with Mr. Bingley first,” she said, taking a deep breath, “and then you may call.”

“Thank you.” he said, daring for the first time to hope just a little. Her manner remained unyielding, but she had not denied him the chance to rectify his situation.

“In truth, sir,” she replied, “I cannot give you any encouragement. I will not renege on my agreement, but I fail to see any hope in your efforts.”

Darcy pondered this for a moment.
She still holds her ground against me, but it could be ever so much worse
. A slight smile softened the severity of his features. “I believe I will chance it, Miss Bennet.”

“As you wish then, Mr. Darcy,” she said coolly.

“Then perhaps you will give me the name of your relations in London so that I might know
where
to call,” Darcy suggested.

Elizabeth’s chin came up. “My Uncle and Aunt Gardiner live in Gracechurch Street. My uncle Gardiner is the one in trade, you know. It is my Uncle Philips who is the country lawyer in Meryton.”

Darcy winced visibly at her sarcasm; nevertheless, he thanked her.

Once again, Elizabeth was mortified by her rudeness. She could not seem able to control herself, and she was instantly contrite. “I must again ask your forgiveness, Mr. Darcy. That was cruelly said, and I apologize.”

“I quite understand, Miss Bennet. It has indeed been a day to strain anyone’s civility.” He gestured down the path. “Shall we return?”

They walked in silence under the trees, and gradually the tension subsided. Darcy felt, if not joyous, at least hopeful. And Elizabeth, while still upset, was thankful that the moments she had dreaded the most in their conversation were over. She felt her spirits lighten as the bright sunshine and the crisp air worked to bring her to good cheer.

At one point, Darcy was surprised to hear soft laughter, and he looked down to see a slight smile on her lips and the familiar sparkle to her eyes.

“I am cheered to see you laugh again, Miss Elizabeth,” he ventured cautiously.

“Oh, I am not made for dreary thoughts, sir,” she said. “At least not for long. I was just contemplating the reaction of certain people at the thought of your calling on me. I did tell you once, if you remember, that I am diverted by follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies?”

Elizabeth looked up with one eyebrow arched, a circumstance Darcy knew from experience presaged a flashing of her wit. “I do remember,” he said, immediately on his guard, yet relieved that she might yet jest with him after the high emotion of the past days.

“Oh, yes, sir. There are any number of our neighbours who will be shocked that you call on a lady who is
only tolerable
.”

Darcy groaned aloud. “You heard.”

“Oh, yes,” she said wickedly. “It was most incautiously said.”

Darcy groaned again, “Is every misspoken word I have ever uttered going to come back to haunt me?”

Elizabeth lowered her head to hide her smile, but in truth, Darcy was not overly unhappy. He would far rather be teased, even with a slight edge of malice, than to be ignored or rejected.

“I did not know you heard me,” he said, “but I suspected.” He considered his words. “I should have apologized.”

“It might have made some things easier,” she agreed.

“No doubt.” But this time it was he who chuckled, at which Elizabeth raised an eyebrow in query. “I was just thinking,” he said with a small smile, “that this will make a good tale to tell our children.”

“Mr. Darcy, you presume too much!” Elizabeth was instantly irritated by his presumption.

“Yes, you are correct. I am sorry; I spoke without thinking.”

But as they walked on, Darcy’s spirits would not be repressed, and he smiled again. “I should warn you, Miss Bennet, before we call later, that my cousin Fitzwilliam seems to have deduced my inclination toward you. When I informed him that you might consult with him, he seems to have taken that information and to have made some rather shrewd conjectures — rather close to the mark, I am afraid to say — so you might prepare for some teasing from him. He is much better at it than I am, you know.”

“Indeed,” Elizabeth said, as the Parsonage came into sight. “Did you confirm his suspicions, Mr. Darcy?”

“Oh, no, but I did not have to. I was taking a shot at billiards and was thus not prepared for his challenge, and my reaction confirmed the accuracy of his speculation.”

Darcy was silent for several steps and then continued, “Richard did mention that his concern first arose because I had been behaving rather oddly of late.” The thought seemed to amuse him, Elizabeth noted with some surprise, because she was firmly of the opinion that he had no sense of humour.

But she said nothing, and they soon reached the Parsonage.

“Goodbye, Miss Bennet,” Darcy said, taking her hand. “My cousin and I will call on your party in the afternoon.”

At first Elizabeth worried that he was going to kiss her hand, but he contented himself with a bow, his eyes fixed on hers as they darkened in a most disturbing manner. She now knew that gaze to be motivated, not by displeasure, but by esteem, and this thought was at last too much. Without replying, Elizabeth turned and hurried through the gate.

Chapter 6

Friday, April 10, 1812

At first, Darcy was relieved when Lady Catherine did not continue her harangue during luncheon. However, little more than halfway through the meal, his relief was supplanted, first by curiosity and then by alarm. Her ladyship always dominated the conversation, especially at table, and her present silence, broken only by the clink of silverware and the occasional short comment, was, while welcome to his personal tastes, not at all normal. No more than a few moments’ observation confirmed that something was amiss. His aunt’s pinched mouth, flared nostrils, and silent focus on her plate convinced him that she was coldly furious — at him. While his own experiences over the past two days had been distinctly unnerving, he could not recall having done anything to provoke this singular behaviour in his aunt.

Upon returning to his room afterwards, he noted another odd occurrence. As he approached his door, two maids at the end of the hall abruptly ceased their conversation, busying themselves with the folded bedding that one of them carried. They stole a glance at him as he paused at the door and then leaned their heads together, whispering, as he entered. He wondered at the unusual behaviour, but he did not bother himself overmuch since his aunt’s household had never been one in which he felt comfortable. Unlike his own household, Rosings was not composed of long-term, often lifetime, employees who frequently represented more than one generation of service to the Darcy family.

Since he and Fitzwilliam planned to take their leave of the Collinses and their visitors that afternoon, he immediately rang for Jennings and soon was descending the stairs to find his cousin waiting for him. To Darcy’s discomfort, Fitzwilliam was in high good humour, remarking several times as they walked on the
impulsiveness
of the Darcys and the
disappointment
of the ladies in town, and his cheerfulness was affected not a jot by Darcy’s cold replies and growing irritation. Blessedly, at last they reached the Parsonage.

They found the women sewing in the front parlour, and Fitzwilliam was at his charming best as he bowed over the hand of Mrs. Collins, thanking her for the many delightful visits during the past weeks. He then moved to Miss Lucas, who was as silent and unable to respond as ever. As Darcy also thanked Mrs. Collins, he noted her husband’s entry into the room. However, when the parson turned to greet him, Darcy was surprised to receive only an uncomfortable bow rather than the man’s normal obsequious performance. Collins said not a word, but the sudden discomfort and embarrassment of his wife could only be attributed to the parson’s uncharacteristic behaviour.

After Darcy paid his respects to Miss Lucas, he crossed to Elizabeth, who was already in conversation with his cousin. She turned to him as he approached, her expression guarded.

“Miss Bennet,” he said, “it was most pleasant to have the opportunity to renew our acquaintance.” Darcy could not help falling into that formal tone of voice he used in public, especially when he saw the easy manner in which his cousin conversed with her. Her reply was only a nod and a quiet, “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”

“Please accept my best wishes for a safe and pleasant journey home to your family,” he continued. “I believe you will be stopping in town to visit with your relations?”

“Yes, Mr. Darcy. I leave Saturday week.”

“And you will be staying there before continuing on to your home?”

“For at least some few days. I will be joining my eldest sister, and my aunt has several events planned.”

“I trust you will find your sister in good spirits when you return.”

For the first time, Elizabeth met his eyes, and she could not restrain the surge of hope inside her.
He really will do as he promised
, she thought excitedly then chastised herself. Of course, he would do as he pledged. Even if he was disagreeable, he had always been honest and honourable. Bingley certainly affirmed it.

“I hope I shall, Mr. Darcy,” she said aloud.

“Then I shall take my leave, Miss Bennet, and leave you to the capable conversation of my cousin.” With a bow, he turned to go.

“Most
impulsive
, Darcy,” Fitzwilliam interjected quietly, earning a curious look from Elizabeth and a glare from Darcy. Fitzwilliam chuckled under his breath before turning back to Elizabeth.

Darcy again noted Collins’s agitated behaviour as he thanked the man for his hospitality. The pathetic man was actually sweating, and he obviously wished the gentlemen gone immediately. There being nothing left to say, Darcy finished with a cold bow and turned to leave. As he did, he observed his cousin again in conversation with Elizabeth, who appeared uncertain and uncomfortable, and he knew that Richard was engaged in a bit of subtle teasing.

Well, I warned her
, he thought, with a certain degree of satisfaction, and made his departure.

Lady Catherine’s earlier manner at Rosings, coupled with Mr. Collins’s odd behaviour at the Parsonage were enough on his mind that, upon returning to his room, Darcy rang for Jennings. One glance at the discomfort on the valet’s usually calm visage convinced him that something was seriously amiss.

“All right, man, I can see that my suspicions are warranted,” he said. “Out with it!”

“Mr. Darcy, sir, this is most distressing,” Jennings began uncomfortably, “but I have heard some quite unseemly talk among the staff. I have pointedly attempted to correct such gossiping, but my efforts have been ignored.” He sniffed in disapproval and then continued, “The comments involve your person, Mr. Darcy, and they also concern a friend of Mrs. Collins, a Miss Bennet.”

Darcy cursed under his breath and then collected himself. “And what do they say?”

“I do not know for sure, Mr. Darcy, since I left the room when my advice to avoid gossip was ignored.”

Darcy sighed. “I am afraid that this is what you should expect when the household staff changes as often as occurs here, but there is no help for it now. Jennings, I need to know what is being said below stairs. I hate to ask this of you, but I must know. Please endeavour to find out whatever you can and give me a report after supper.”

“Very good, sir,” said Jennings, and he quietly left the room.

* * * * *

Darcy stayed in the library reading until supper, which was a repeat of luncheon, and even Fitzwilliam and Anne noticed Lady Catherine’s cold behaviour. He ate quickly and, ignoring Fitzwilliam’s raised eyebrows, made his exit as soon as possible to return to his room. There, he quickly summoned Jennings. As soon as the man entered, Darcy could tell that he did not bring good news. He did not think he had ever seen his valet quite this upset and angry.

“Have a seat, Jennings. This appears as if it may take some time.”

“Indeed it may, sir. I have been busy listening to a variety of different accounts from the staff, and none of them seems to see even the slightest impropriety in indulging in such talk! It is all quite upsetting, sir!”

“I dare say,” said Darcy. “Well, let me have all the particulars. Omit nothing, for I need complete information so I know how to proceed.”

“Very well, sir,” said Jennings. “First” — and he ticked off the point on his finger — “the Parsonage servants, who appear to be almost as ill-behaved as those here at Rosings, have evidently spread a report that you visited the Parsonage last evening and there spent several hours alone with Miss Bennet in the parlour.