By Consequence of Marriage (A Pride & Prejudice Novel) Page 15

  Darcy examined his favorite cousin carefully. There was a peculiarity to Richard's distress; this was not a man worried about a cousin he considered a brother. There was a personal worry written plainly in the lines on his face. "How about a drink Cousin?"

  Richard nodded and took two steps towards the fireplace only to about-face because his chair was not where it normally sat. He whirled around the room spotting it next to Darcy's desk. As he pulled the buttons on his coat with one hand to release the warmth and pressure, he unceremoniously rested his laurels in the chair. Darcy clapped the man on the shoulder as he passed on his way across the study to pour them both a drink.

  "I cannot fathom how they worked upon you. For years, sidestepping and avoiding Catherine's machinations were your strong suit. You should hear my parents! They informed me I must take leave again at Easter for another family wedding!"

  Darcy handed the drink to his cousin, then returned with his own drink to his position in the room: behind his desk. "They did not explain to you the argument they championed regarding why I must marry Anne?"

  Richard gulped down his drink and placed the glass on the desk with the practiced manners of an officer in his Majesty's Finest. "If they had, would I be here asking you for an explanation? They made it seem you acknowledged your loneliness and wished to start a life as Georgiana begins hers. It was the largest load of bull I ever heard my father try to pass off as truth."

  Darcy laughed. The weight of his decision and irritation of his cousin combined into a perfect storm of frivolity which seized his entire body. Richard resumed shouting at Darcy, but it wasn't until his laughter had escaped his body that Darcy could resume his composure. "How long have you loved our cousin, Anne?"

  The Colonel stuttered in his shouts, shocked at such a question. "How – how did you know?" He narrowed his eyes at Darcy, awaiting an answer.

  "I confess I did not, not until you reacted just now to the question."

  Richard stood from his chair, shrugging off the burden of his regimental coat, and took Darcy's place in pacing the worn path in front of the fireplace. "For years Anne and I shared an affection, mostly through our letters. I could never offer for her, you know they would never allow us to marry."

  "That I am not so certain of, Cousin. You do possess a number of admirable traits, plus you are the second son of an earl."

  Richard stopped his pacing for a moment to stare at Darcy. "Lady Catherine de Bourgh will never substitute a Fitzwilliam Darcy with property and wealth for a lowly colonel in the army with impeccable bloodlines."

  Darcy ruminated over his cousin's predicament, and tried to look at the situation as Richard saw it. Years of attending Rosings together at Easter played in his memory, with Richard always poking fun when Lady Catherine would bestow her compliments on Darcy. "Why did you never say? I would have supported you."

  "She did not wish for me to talk to anyone in the family unless we were sure we would be able to wed. She is so alone, Darcy. We write to each other with frequency, which is overlooked by her chaperones because we are cousins and I am at war. She was afraid if we came forward and were denied, we would not be permitted to write one another."

  Darcy rubbed his face, the blood pounding in his ears as his head throbbed mercilessly. Somehow, he had become the Paris to a Romeo and Juliet! Moreover, he questioned his own abilities to understand any of the people around him if he missed completely both Georgiana's resentment and now, Richard's love affair with Anne.

  Equally exhausted, Richard backed away to sit again in his favorite chair, but the chair was not in its normal location. "Why the devil is my chair all the way over there?" Richard barked with annoyance. He walked over and heaved the chair over his head to move it back to its rightful home with a tremendous shudder to the poor piece of furniture's legs.

  "Have a care, if you mind. The chair did nothing to you." Darcy held up his empty glass. "Pour us another round?" His cousin growled but retrieved both glasses from the desk.

  As Richard poured drinks, he continued to unburden his soul. "I followed you to Kent each year that I could just to ensure her mother not force a wedding between you two, either through compromise, trickery or other such means. I thought if you were forced to go through with it, somehow I would find a way to stop it and take your place. But here I am in my thirties still without a means to provide the lifestyle Anne so desperately deserves."

  Darcy accepted his drink and stared at the flames scarcely flickering on the logs in the fire. Richard retreated to his favorite chair spent, a man with a broken heart.

  Running his finger around the rim of his glass, Darcy made his decision. He would tell Richard all he knew and together the two cousins would find a way to fix this mess their family had once again created. Someone in this cursed family would have a happy marriage, and it would be Richard and Anne.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The ballroom at Netherfield Park glowed with the light of a thousand suns from the candles lit on every wall. Elizabeth's favorite vista was the boughs of evergreens decorating the stark white walls, illuminated with the light diffused by the numerous crystals hanging from the ceiling. As she took her first steps into the grand room with her family, it was as if she was stepping into the pages of a fairytale where she was a fair maiden awaiting her gallant knight's arrival.

  Mr. Bingley shook her hand profusely, wearing such a grin the very width of it threatened to split his face. Elizabeth giggled to find such delight in her future brother-in-law, and she spied a similar exuberance upon Jane's countenance. The wedding between Charles Bingley and Jane Bennet was not only the highlight of the neighborhood, but likely a superb match to be told of for generations to come.

  "I'm so happy you are recovered, Miss Elizabeth. It is difficult to imagine you recuperated from the accident right here in this house, and in just two short months!"

  Elizabeth laughed and nodded her head to Mister Bingley. "Sir, I thank you again for your hospitality and care. I'm certain Mr. Darcy and I will have a grand time deciding how we shall relate the accident to the curious minds present." Elizabeth surveyed the ballroom, already noticing the town gossips waiting to pounce for the salacious details.

  Bingley's tone changed to one of regret. "I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Elizabeth, but my friend Darcy never came. I spoke to him in London, and I was certain he was coming to the wedding and the ball. But I'm afraid his business has kept him in town."

  Elizabeth stood there stunned with the revelation her knight was not racing to her on his trusty steed. She began to move into the ballroom as the reception line shuffled to allow more people to greet Mr. Bingley and Miss Bingley. The mismatch of strings echoed in her ears as the musicians started their warm-up. She was so lost in her thoughts, trying to puzzle out why Mr. Darcy would say he was coming and then not attend, she did not acknowledge Mr. Collins bustling up to her side.

  "Cousin Elizabeth, there you are. Come, we will be expected to dance the first set together."

  "Mr. Collins, I do not wish to dance the first set. I wish to admire Jane and forever imprint tonight's joy in my mind. Please sir, do not make me refuse the first set so that I may not dance the entire night."

  William Collins puffed out his chest and set his chin. "You will dance with me or you will not dance. You should understand by now, Elizabeth, I am not a man to be trifled with . . ."

  Elizabeth was frightened at first, but remembered they were in a room full of people. Mr. Collins could not grab her arm here and drag her away, leaving angry marks upon her porcelain skin. She narrowed her eyes at the man and released the anger she had pent up these many weeks.

  "You could not convince me to dance with your sweaty, bumbling person even if you were the last man in this ballroom! I simply shall not dance this evening." Mr. Collins moved as if he were about to grab Elizabeth and press his point, when Elizabeth changed her face from one of anger to one of joy and waved over his shoulder. "Yoo-hoo my dear Charlotte, have you met my cousin, Mr. Coll
ins?"

  A demure woman in a pale pink gown and perfectly pinned brunette curls approached Elizabeth and Mr. Collins wearing a prim smile on her face. Elizabeth made the necessary introductions and began her playacting. Taking a step toward Charlotte, she dramatically grabbed Mr. Collins' shoulder and cried out in pain. "Oh, my ankle, my ankle!" Charlotte assisted Elizabeth on her other side, and Collins had no choice but to assist his cousin and her friend to the sofa in the corner of the room.

  As Elizabeth arranged her skirts comfortably on the sofa, the musicians stopped and a subtle hush fell over the ballroom. "Oh Charlotte you must take my dance with Mr. Collins, I won't be able to join the fun tonight." Elizabeth whispered hoarsely.

  Charlotte Lucas had rarely been asked to dance the opening set at any assembly or ball since she was in her early twenties Now a woman of twenty-seven, she was regarded to be on the shelf and therefore garnered sympathy requests to dance sometime during the evening.

  As Mr. Collins accepted the plan and escorted Charlotte away to line up in their places for the first set, Elizabeth wished she had thought to ask for a glass of punch. The music began and the couples twirled and spun in time with the music. Soon, Elizabeth had trouble finding the face of her beloved Jane with her intended Mr. Bingley through the crowds lining the dancing area. Familiar attendees of the ball saw her predicament and spent a spell visiting her as she recuperated on the couch.

  In the middle of the third set, with Mr. Bingley dancing with Lydia and Jane dancing with Mr. Collins, her father came to visit Lizzie in her reclining position. He sat on the edge of the sofa, sipping from a glass of punch.

  "Oh Papa, I wonder if you would be so kind as to fetch a glass of punch for me? I am so desperately thirsty."

  Mr. Bennet surveyed the dance floor to watch his other daughters enjoying the ball. "I believe, my Lizzie, you are most capable of walking across the room and fetching your own glass of punch." He turned his head to gaze meaningfully at her.

  "But it is a tragedy, father. Just as I was about to dance the first set with Mr. Collins, I twisted my ankle and ruined my entire evening!"

  Mr. Bennet chuckled. "Elizabeth Bennet my dear, if you wish to convince a wise old man you have suffered a new injury to your foot, next time take better care to limp on your left foot and not your right."

  Mr. Bennet stood from the sofa and wandered his way through the ballroom. Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of her chest and pouted. She did convince Charlotte to fetch a glass of punch. This meant she endured the rest of the ball until supper stuck on the sofa with Mr. Collins and Charlotte attending her and chatting happily away in her ear.

  To Elizabeth, the entire evening had been an utter disaster, and her heart still ached over never fulfilling her dream of dancing with Mister Darcy. She stewed in her melancholy long after the carriages delivered them home for a fitful night of sleep before the morrow's big day.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  On the morning of Jane's wedding, Elizabeth opened her eyes and experienced a sharp pointy elbow, belonging to her eldest sister, poking her most acutely between her shoulder blades. It wasn't the pain that made Elizabeth frown, but the immediate realization this was the last such morning a similar sisterly trouble would occur.

  Carefully, Elizabeth nudged her sister's arm away and burrowed deeper into the quilt. She closed her eyes and willed herself to go back to sleep, but the chirping of birds outside and sounds of the world waking up made such a task impossible. She had just slowed her breaths back to a measured rhythm when the door to her shared bedroom with Jane flew open.

  "Girls! Girls! How could you still be in bed at this late of an hour?" Mrs. Bennet stood in the doorway with her hair still tied in ribbons to curl her locks, glaring at them both.

  Jane sighed in her sleep, rolled over onto her back and blinked her eyes at their mother. Mrs. Bennet fell under the spell and the sweet, beautiful eldest daughter shared a shy smile that made her mother beam with pride. Elizabeth curled from under the coverlet and pushed feelings of jealousy over her mother never gazing at her with the same expression out of her mind. Today was about Jane. No matter what occurred, Elizabeth vowed she would do all in her power to make the day the best ever for her favorite sister.

  As Mrs. Bennett's gaze moved to include Elizabeth, her expression melted away.

  "Hurry, hurry! Get out of bed. Jane dear you take a bath first, Lizzie I'm sorry it's too late for you to get a bath afterwards. Hurry downstairs and collect the laundry from Hill. We need all of the stockings, ribbons, and bonnets brought upstairs immediately."

  Elizabeth yawned and stretched as she removed herself from bed, walking over to her closet to don a morning dress until she changed into her finer gown for the ceremony. Unfortunately, this was not part of Mrs. Bennett's plans.

  "There's no time for niceties. Put on your dressing robe and hurry downstairs! The maids have brought up the hot water for Jane."

  Puzzled, Elizabeth did as she was told. It was unlike her mother to go so far as to ask Elizabeth to perform the menial tasks reserved for servants. She expected that perhaps the day's chaos was to blame.

  Feeling self-conscious, she tiptoed down the stairs with her hair still braided from last night, positive she appeared a fright in just her dressing robe and slippers. As she turned the corner to cut through the dining room into the kitchen, she stopped in her tracks as a fully dressed Mr. Collins sat in the dining room, uncomfortably erect in a chair that was turned to face the doorway.

  "Cousin Elizabeth, I am waiting for you."

  Raising an eyebrow in complete confusion, Elizabeth pulled the top of her dressing gown closer together at the neck. "Forgive me, Mr. Collins, I must fetch something for my mother." She ducked her head and took two steps to move around the table when Mr. Collins hastily hopped up from his chair to block her way.

  "I see you fell for my ruse I planned with your mother. I had hoped to make this a surprise for you."

  Elizabeth's heart raced as a feeling of dread dropped like a stone to the bottom of her stomach. She stood as a startled deer at the edge of the woods, too nervous to say or do anything that might encourage the man before her.

  "It cannot have gone amiss since my arrival you are the cousin to attract my undivided attentions. Originally, when I planned to visit, I did so hope somehow your father and I could find a way to ally our mutual families and preserve the history of this grand estate as it passed most nobly along the male line."

  "Mr. Collins –" Elizabeth started to speak, but the man hushed her lips by actually placing his fingers upon them.

  "Sssh, I know well your penchant for expressing opinions not entirely your own and occasionally insulting those around you, though I hardly credit your gentile nature for intending to do so."

  Elizabeth took a step backwards to again establish space between them. "I assure you Mr. Collins I have never intentionally insulted anyone without meaning to do so. If someone felt insulted in my company, they should know it absolutely was by my own intent."

  Mr. Collins chuckled and again raised his hand to touch her face. Elizabeth slapped it down with ferocity. "You are stunning when you are angry. Has anyone ever told you so?"

  "Good day, Mr. Collins. I have a wedding to get ready for." Elizabeth turned to march out of the dining room when Mr. Collins again grabbed her arm to keep her there. Not knowing what to do, Elizabeth began to scream out for help, assaulted in her father's own home! She pulled and fought and yelled until the entire household came thundering down the stairs wondering at the scene before them.

  Elizabeth's father stood in the doorway to the sight of his weeping daughter and a very angry Mr. Collins in the dining room. "Whatever has happened here? Lizzie? Mr. Collins?"

  Elizabeth, sobbing, explained he would not let her leave the dining room, grabbed her arm and abused her thus.

  Mr. Collins sniffed and tucked his vest down over his portly belly. "I have offered my genuine affections and care to my fair cousin this entire
visit. She spurned my offer of marriage. I tried, in vain, to overlook the haphazard manner in which all of my cousins were brought up. Why my patroness, Lady Catherine, warned me of the potential problems in marrying such a woman who calls herself a lady yet did not grow up with the benefit of a governess. I am afraid I can no longer offer for this woman with a clear conscience."

  Mrs. Bennett's cries rang out and she barged into the dining room to follow Mr. Collins as he escaped through the kitchen. Calling after him that she would rectify this situation if only he would allow were the last words that echoed into the dining room.

  Elizabeth, trembling from her encounter with Mr. Collins glanced at her two younger sisters standing in the hall with their mouths open in shock. She turned to Mr. Bennet hoping to see a father's acceptance, yet she spied a man with nothing but pure anger in his eyes.

  "My study, Elizabeth. Now!" he bellowed.

  The two younger girls jumped out of their father's way as he stormed into his study, fully expecting his wayward daughter Elizabeth to follow. Taking a moment to restore her composure, Elizabeth did not tarry to obey her father's command.

  As she entered the study, she was instructed to shut the door. The last time she had followed her father into his study seeing him so angry was when she was caught climbing a tree on the edge of Winslow's Woods by the gamekeeper of Netherfield Park, nearly ten years ago. Silently, she stood before her father's desk and waited for him to speak.

  Mr. Bennet paced the small space behind his desk with his hands behind his back, muttering to himself. Every few moments he would glance at his daughter, and continue his pacing and muttering. Elizabeth stood discomposed in her father’s study for a number of minutes until her mother barged in, disrupting the speechless standoff.

  “It is an uproar, Mr. Bennet! Mr. Collins cannot be prevailed upon to marry Lizzie and he refuses to consider any of the other girls, even Lydia! She has ruined forever the security of her own family!"