Consequences (34 page)

Your loving sister,
Jane

When she finished Jane’s long letter, Elizabeth lowered it and sat staring out the window for several long minutes. It was quite the most disconcerting and disturbing letter she had ever received from her sister, and she supposed that was only to be expected, considering the singular and wildly varying nature of her acquaintance with Mr. Darcy.

Two elements seemed to be most striking in Jane’s communication, and the first was centred on Jane’s description of Miss Darcy. Elizabeth simply could not understand how Jane’s perception of Miss Darcy differed so greatly from that previously offered by Mr. Wickham.

How can there be such a vast difference?
she thought in confusion.
I can remember what Mr. Wickham said to me so clearly: “I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Darcy. But she is too much like her brother—very, very proud.” Yet Jane describes Miss Darcy as not proud at all, only terribly shy. I cannot believe Jane’s description of Miss Darcy could be inaccurate, even though I am well used to the way she always sees others in a favourable light. Her description of Miss Darcy’s reluctance to play and the manner in which her brother is so protective of her certainly rings true. I am completely unable to explain two such conflicting reports. Could Miss Darcy have changed so much since Mr. Wickham was forced to leave Derbyshire? Could Mr. Wickham have been wrong? How can I determine who is right? I know Jane would try to find some explanation in which both of them are right, but I cannot believe any such explanation is possible here. There must be a right and a wrong explanation.

Elizabeth was so greatly troubled that she read and re-read the paragraphs describing Miss Darcy, trying to find some way to reconcile Jane’s description with that of Mr. Wickham. She did not believe the girl could be putting on an act for Jane. Why should she? She was only fifteen or sixteen years old, after all. Oh, as her mother would have said, it was all so very vexing!

The second disturbing element in Jane’s letter was the final paragraph, especially the last sentence.

Jane is definitely chiding me in that last sentence,
thought Elizabeth,
and that in itself is almost unique. I can remember very few times when Jane ventured even a half-criticism of someone, especially me, not even when I truly deserved it! So to have her describe my letter as unkindly and calculating is unsettling. I have to admit that I may have been more witty than funny and more biting than ironic in my description of how I came to accept Mr. Darcy. I thought I was writing down my reasons as Charlotte would have explained them: clearly, logically, and emotionlessly. Obviously, Jane does not consider it so. From what she says, it appears she judges my reasons as more mercenary than “logical.” We shall have to talk when I get to London, which cannot come too soon! In the meantime, I shall have to work more on being careful and disciplined. I do not truly believe I am being solely mercenary, though I will admit to elements of logic and sensibility, and beyond doubt, I do not want Mr. Darcy to think so!

Their engagements at Rosings continued as frequently during the remainder of the week as they had been at first, including their last evening, with Lady Catherine, as usual, inserting herself into all their most detailed affairs. While her ladyship dispensed advice as a farmer distributed seed, Elizabeth was quite diverted by the thought that this woman would soon be her aunt; how different the evening would be if Lady Catherine knew of her engagement to Mr. Darcy.

Certainly, she would not be inquiring minutely into all the particulars of our journey and giving us directions as to the best method of packing!
Elizabeth thought in amusement.

But her ladyship’s advice found a fertile field in Maria Lucas, who thought herself obliged, on her return, to undo all the work of the morning and pack her trunk afresh.

When they parted, Lady Catherine, with great condescension, wished them a good journey and invited them to visit Hunsford again next year. Miss de Bourgh exerted herself so far as to curtsey and hold out her hand to both. In Elizabeth’s case, Miss de Bourgh surreptitiously gave an extra squeeze to her hand, leading Elizabeth to wonder just how much the fragile-looking young lady knew or guessed. She thought those sad eyes held the slightest hint of a twinkle, but she could not be sure. In any event, there was no time or occasion to ask any questions, so Elizabeth departed with her cousins for her last night at the Parsonage.

Chapter 20

“In marriage do thou be wise: prefer the
person before money, virtue before beauty,
the mind before the body; then thou hast a
wife, a friend, a companion, a second self.”

—William Penn,
English Quaker leader and
founder of Pennsylvania

Saturday, April 18, 1812

On Saturday morning, Elizabeth arrived for breakfast a few minutes early and found Mr. Collins already engaged at the table. He clearly had no intention of foregoing the opportunity of paying her those parting civilities he deemed so necessary, and Elizabeth had to concentrate on her expression to hide her amusement at her cousin’s fawning compliments. Evidently, she managed to control her face passably well when she expressed her gratitude for six weeks of pleasure in the company of Charlotte since Mr. Collins’s face bore an expression of utmost gratification when she finished.

In fact, though Mr. Collins attempted mightily to express the elevation of his feelings in words, his abilities were insufficient to his intentions, and he was obliged to walk about the room energetically as he continued talking. For her part, Elizabeth tried to unite civility and truth in a few short sentences, but she was not sorry to have Mr. Collins’s recitation interrupted by the entrance of Charlotte. Her compassion was tweaked as she contemplated leaving her friend to the society of her cousin, but Charlotte was obviously not unhappy with her situation. She was sorry to see Elizabeth and Maria depart, but her home and all the dependent concerns of her situation had not yet lost their charms.

Elizabeth went back upstairs to attend to the strapping of her trunks in anticipation of the expected arrival of the chaise, and she was so engaged when a servant breathlessly arrived to tell her a coach was here and she was immediately needed downstairs in the front room. Elizabeth was somewhat surprised at the urgency of the summons, but since she was finished securing her trunks, she lost no time in ordering them taken downstairs then gathered up her gloves and bonnet and descended the stairs. As she passed the open front door, she saw a large, black coach-and-four drawn up outside the Parsonage and paused in surprise. She remembered the servant mentioned “coach,” but she assumed the girl misspoke and said “coach” when she meant “chaise.”

A rather small crest was emblazoned on the glossy black door, and Elizabeth’s surprise did not prevent her from concluding it must be the Darcy coach and the crest must be the Darcy crest. It was rather disconcerting to realize this understated blazon would soon be
her
family crest also and would become a familiar symbol rather than an object of curiosity.

When she entered the front room, therefore, she was prepared as Mr. Darcy stood up to greet her. She was not at all prepared, however, to see the tall girl beside him, who also rose to her feet.

“Good morning, Miss Bennet,” said Darcy in his deep voice as he bowed.

“Good morning, Mr. Darcy,” responded Elizabeth in her sweet soprano as she responded to his bow with a bemused curtsey, glancing surreptitiously at the tall girl who could be none other than the Miss Darcy who engendered so much interest from Jane and herself.

“Miss Bennet,” he continued, turning to the tall girl beside him, “please allow me to present my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy. Georgiana, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, my future wife and your future sister.”

Elizabeth automatically returned Miss Darcy’s courtesy, disconcerted not so much by her presence as by hearing her engagement to Mr. Darcy acknowledged so openly. But a quick glance around the room told her that Mr. Darcy had already acquainted the other occupants with the news. Charlotte was positively glowing with pleasure, Maria was showing both a degree of pleasure and a greater degree of astonished surprise, while Mr. Collins’s shock was coupled with a look of visible alarm.

Elizabeth was somewhat irritated that Mr. Darcy had made such an announcement without even consulting her, and she mentally made a note that such presumption was another item she would have to address in the future.

“Please, sit here, Miss Bennet,” Darcy said, indicating his own chair, and Elizabeth somewhat reluctantly sat down beside Miss Darcy while her brother retrieved a chair from the table for himself.

“I suppose you are surprised to see us here this morning,” Darcy began.

“Yes, sir, that was one of the surprises,” Elizabeth responded with a degree of coolness, and she was somewhat mollified to see Darcy look a bit shamefaced.

“After I told my sister of our engagement, she was so anxious to meet you that I thought to collect you with my own coach so that she could accompany us. The arrangement was satisfactory to your uncle since it enables us to deliver you and Miss Lucas directly to his residence without the necessity of post travel or changing vehicles.”

Elizabeth was pleased to hear confirmation of Darcy’s ease with her Uncle Gardiner in order to make such plans.

“And since our arrival was such a surprise to your hosts,” Darcy continued, “I found it necessary to inform them of our engagement as an explanation of such a surprising change of plans, even though I did not have a chance to discuss it with you beforehand.”

Elizabeth was assuaged by this explanation since it indicated that he did not act with the presumption she originally surmised.

Perhaps there will not be
quite
as many rough aspects of my future husband to be smoothed and softened as I expected!
she thought in amusement.

Elizabeth was aware of Darcy’s sister while they talked, and she thus saw the single glance Miss Darcy attempted after they were introduced. She had realized who the young girl must be as soon as she entered the room, and her realization was accompanied by a reflexive expectation that she would be meeting a female version of Mr. Darcy: proud, imperious, and inclined to meet her future sister with detached disdain. Then she remembered Jane’s description, which countered that of Mr. Wickham and quelled that impulse as Mr. Darcy made the introduction. Miss Darcy’s monosyllabic, almost inaudible greeting was so aligned with Jane’s description that Elizabeth firmly vowed to ban such thoughts about her—and her brother!—from even her inner thoughts.

With that thought in mind, she turned her attention on the retiring girl. When Darcy said his sister was exceedingly anxious to meet her future sister, that statement did not guarantee his sister would be able to express that wish. Miss Darcy was scarcely able to raise her head, and the look on her face, both in her expression and in her eyes, could be interpreted in no other way than being due to nervousness of the most extreme variety.

The realization of Miss Darcy’s anxiety to be meeting a young lady from the country, only a few years older than herself, given Miss Darcy’s advantages of birth and fortune, was a clear refutation of the picture Mr. Wickham sketched of the girl. Elizabeth’s thoughts raced as she remembered the glowing terms in which all others described Miss Darcy. This included her brother, Mr. Bingley, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and even Miss Bingley. At that moment, it was irrefutably clear that
all
Mr. Wickham’s descriptions were wrong, and Elizabeth could not fathom the explanation for the difference.

Well, there is no time to think on that now
, Elizabeth told herself.
I was wrong, but I now need to concentrate on gaining the trust of this girl.

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and instinctively turned her head toward the motion. Mr. Collins was on his feet and sidling toward the door.

Undoubtedly to take word of this unexpected news to his patron,
thought Elizabeth sardonically.

Mr. Darcy also saw Mr. Collins’s movement and instantly rose. “Mr. Collins!” he said forcefully, striding toward the other man. “Perhaps I might impose upon you for a few moments of your time?”

Elizabeth had to suppress a smile at the look of sudden consternation on her cousin’s face. But he did stop his movement toward the door, and Darcy crossed the room in three long strides. Darcy spoke low but obviously forcefully, and Mr. Collins could only nod in agreement with a sickly smile. Even Charlotte looked on in wonder as Darcy clasped Mr. Collins’s elbow and escorted him from the room. The sound of their footsteps in the hall was followed quickly by the sound of a door closing, giving a clear indication the two men were now ensconced in Mr. Collins’s study.

***

With the gentlemen absent, Elizabeth attempted to make conversation with Miss Darcy. Her attempts were not very successful, but she could see the other girl desperately wanted to say more. It was as clear to Elizabeth as it had been to her sister that Miss Darcy was just so very bashful she could not make the words come forth. In any case, Elizabeth had little time for her endeavours since a servant soon announced the coach was ready for occupancy with all the trunks fastened on and the parcels placed within.