It was some time before he made his move, time in which Darcy watched him, waiting for the inevitable moment. When he cornered Miss Elizabeth, Darcy was already moving, though he did not intervene at once—he wanted to know what the man would say.
“Cousin Elizabeth,” said he, “perhaps you do not know what you are doing, but I must step in, as Lady Catherine’s parson anda person connected to this family, to prevent you from making a grave error in judgment.”
Far from being offended, Miss Elizabeth appeared only curious. “I should not wish to offend so great a personage as Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Please, illuminate my understanding, Mr. Collins.”
Hearing nothing of the irony in her tone, Mr. Collins allowed a beatific smile. “You show a pleasing deference to your betters, Cousin—I salute you for your understanding. It also pleases me that your actions are without malice or understanding of the potential damage you might cause. Let me explain.
“My patroness has often spoken of her late sister, Mr. Darcy’s mother, in the warmest of terms, for they were the closest of sisters. Lady Catherine, you see, agreed with her sister many years ago that their children would wed, thereby uniting the great estates of Pemberley and Rosings Park. So you see, you cannot encourage any interest from Mr. Darcy, for the gentleman is not at liberty to extend an olive branch to you when he is already spoken for.”
Though she had not heard of this before, Miss Elizabeth was not taken aback. Rather than protest, she fixed Darcy with a look, accompanied by that maddening arch of her eyebrow. Darcy shook his head and stepped in.
“Mr. Collins,” said he, his tone even, “you have some concerns you wish to address?”
The way the parson was looking at him told Darcy that he was uncertain how to proceed.
“Do not suppose that I will take offense,” said Darcy, knowing they would move past this incident more quickly if he put Collins at ease. “Please speak plainly.”
“Very well, Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Collins. “I have heard of your engagement to Miss de Bourgh and wished to prevent my cousinfrom making a mistake or have her heart broken by raised expectations you cannot fulfill.”
“Ah, then my aunt has told you of her claim of an engagement.”
Mr. Collins did not like this talk of his aunt’s “claims.”
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Collins, struggling to know what to say, “but are you suggesting your aunt is speaking falsehood?”
“No, Mr. Collins, I am not,” said Darcy, keeping his tone agreeable. “My aunt and mother may have spoken of such a thing, but I do not know the contents of whatever they agreed upon. My mother, you see, was not so forceful a personality as Lady Catherine. It is possible they speculated on the possibility of Anne and me marrying, but even if Lady Catherine insisted, my mother would not have gainsaid her about an event far in the future.”
“I see,” said Mr. Collins, not seeing at all. “Then you disagree with your aunt?”
“I have never considered myself bound by Lady Catherine’s wishes,” said Darcy, deciding to be honest and open. “My uncle supports me in this. I have not proposed to Anne; there is no contract, and I am my own man. My aunt wishes for the union, but I have no affinity for Anne. I need a wife who can provide me with an heir—Anne’s indifferent health is such that childbirth may well be beyond her strength.”
Mr. Collins thought on the matter for several moments, but in the end, he chose correctly. “Then I cannot gainsay you, Mr. Darcy. My concern is for my duty to Lady Catherine. If she discovers my knowledge of the attention you are paying Miss Elizabeth, she will be most furious with me.”
“Yes, Mr. Collins, I knowexactlyhow my aunt will react. It is for that reason that I have avoided the subject, as to speak of it would be to provoke an argument.”
“I apologize, Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Collins, seeming apprehensive, “but do you not suppose that remaining silent will increase your aunt’s distress?”
Darcy sighed. “Yes, I have considered it. The unfortunate truth is that Lady Catherine will be angry whenever it occurs. There were also some . . . mitigating circumstances I thought might make it easier for her to bear.”
“You thought to marry someone your aunt could not object to,” said Miss Elizabeth, proving her perspicacity.
When Darcy turned to her, she gave him a soft smile. “Do not concern yourself for insulting me, Mr. Darcy, for I am not displeased. It is nothing less than the truth that I am not a woman who possesses those virtues you have the right to expect in a wife.”
“Miss Elizabeth,” said Darcy, his gaze locked on hers, ensuring she understood how serious he was, “you possess sufficient virtues to makeanyman privileged to have you as a wife.”
“I can see that I was in error,” said Mr. Collins, breaking the moment between them. He turned to Miss Elizabeth. “You have Mr. Darcy’s devotion, Cousin—that much is clear to me now. I congratulate you for capturing the attention of such a man as he, for I am convinced there are few better in the kingdom than my patroness’s family.
“At the same time,” continued Mr. Collins, “I must apologize, for I have no other choice but to inform Lady Catherine of what I have learned.”
“You may tell her, Collins,” said Darcy, not wishing to belabor the point. “She will learn anyway.”
“Perhaps, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Elizabeth, “the time has come for you to tell your aunt that you do not mean to marry your cousin?”
The prospect of leaving Miss Elizabeth now was not palatable, but Darcy knew she was correct. The news would be better coming from him than from a man Lady Catherine thought she could dominate. She would not take it well, but Darcy knew he could not throw Mr. Collins to the ravenous beast that was his aunt. If he did so, it was possible Lady Catherine would journey to Longbourn to make her sentiments known, and Darcy did not wish to provoke her to assault Miss Bennet in her own home.
“You are correct, Miss Bennet,” said Darcy. Then he turned to Collins. “You are to return to Kent tomorrow?”
“We shall depart early in the morning,” confirmed Mr. Collins.
