The cook arranged most of the feast in advance, with only the goose tended by a single kitchen servant, and none of the maids assigned to serve dinner. Mr. Bennet believed everyone should celebrate with their family, so he freed them from their duties wherever possible, allowing them to enjoy the company of loved ones.
“I hope so,” replied Mr. Darcy, a confident smile stretching his lips. “Pemberley servants join us at the Christmas table. Rather than have them serving and taking dirty plates away for me and Georgiana, we bring the food from the kitchen and place it on the sideboard. I invite them to serve themselves before we fill our plates.”
He shook his head and let out a rueful laugh. “It is a practice I refrain from mentioning to my neighbors. The few I told thought I was quite mad. To avoid any further censure or ridicule, I have kept it to myself since then. You are now the second person to learn of my habit.”
“How thoughtful of you,” said Elizabeth, wondering if Mr. Bennet might consider doing the same at Longbourn. “Your servants have a compassionate master.”
“I try to treat them with dignity,” said he, a pink hue rising to his cheeks that warmed Elizabeth’s heart.
Casting her eyes about, she spied Jane and Mr. Bingley, their heads together in earnest conversation as the company proceeded along the street. “It seems your charming friend and my sister appreciate each other’s company,” said she, her remarks met with red faces from both, as if ashamed of being caught.
“This is a side of him I have not seen before,” said Mr. Darcy, affection for his friend clear in his voice. “I hope your mother doesn’t take it upon herself to interfere. It would be a mistake to push Miss Bennet into Bingley’s arms.”
“Mama is not in the habit of forcing Jane, or me, on anyone,” snapped Elizabeth, her eyes narrowing and her nostrils flaring at the insult. “We make our own decisions in love, or the lack of it. You, and Mr. Bingley’s sisters, would be well-advised to consider that when you dismiss us as unworthy of your notice.”
“And you should examine your answers to innocent comments before calling my motives into question,” replied Mr.Darcy, the words leaving his mouth like daggers seeking her heart in revenge for treating his reply in such an accusatory manner.
“We need to go home,” said Elizabeth, choosing distance from this man as a better alternative to the continual disparaging remarks. Separating herself from his conceited and dismissive demeanor was preferable to remaining anywhere near such an arrogant individual.
“Come,” demanded she, turning her back on Mr. Darcy and taking hold of her youngest sister’s sleeve to pull her from the group. Kitty, she knew, would follow without complaint, but if she didn’t pull Lydia away, she would find herself alone on the road to Longbourn.
“Wait for me, Lizzy,” cried Jane, offering Mr. Bingley an apology for the unexpected conclusion of their visit.
“I hope you will continue to call,” said she, a rapid wave all she could offer before running after her sister, who set a brisk pace along the lane returning them to the estate.
“What happened between you this time?” asked Jane, struggling to keep up.
“You were having such a friendly conversation until you left. Did he take liberties, or make a disturbing suggestion? I hope not, because that does not seem like a man Mr. Bingley would befriend.”
“I do not want to talk about it,” snapped Elizabeth, regretting her words as soon as she uttered them and fighting the pride that fought her desire to apologize. The battle ended with her decision to revisit the matter once they arrived home. Jane would not hold a grudge over her shameful conduct, but she deserved an explanation for this unseemly behavior.
Thankfully, the journey finished without further discussion, giving her the chance to consider Mr. Darcy’s comment.
Was he joking? I am sure he has seen Mama’s less than dignified comments concerning them, as well as her obsession with their income. Maybe I am in the wrong here and took offense where I should not have. I suppose Jane is not the only person I need to ask for forgiveness. Regardless of his intent, I should not have jumped to that conclusion without first considering what he might have meant.
The self-reflection and accompanying decision lifted her spirits and by the time Hill met them at the entrance, her cheery attitude had returned. Voices greeted them as the door closed, prompting her to turn toward the butler, brows lifted in an unspoken question.
“Mrs. Bennet told me to send you into the sitting-room,” said he. “She wanted to see you as soon as you came home.”
Dread began in her stomach and spread to her bosom as she neared the entrance, where she heard a too-familiar voice droning on regarding some issue only he considered important.
“As I explained to Lady Catherine,” Mr. Collins was saying as she entered the room, her feet reluctant to carry her into yet another inevitable argument. “Proper understanding of the scriptures is my responsibility as parson, not hers.”
The scene which met her eyes might have entertained her, if not for the return of this unwelcome guest. Her mother occupied her usual chair beside the fireplace, paying rapt attention to the nonsense issuing from the man. Mr. Collins, wearing an air of arrogant self-assurance, faced Mrs. Bennet. Gone was the beaten manner he wore upon leaving for Rosings Park a few weeks ago, replaced by a surety she found disconcerting.
Her father, seated across the room, watched the frivolous chatter. He wore an expression of amused irritation, as if waiting for their foolish words to fade into nothingness.
“Miss Elizabeth, how nice to see you again,” said he, the words oozing from his mouth like melted wax, too thick to flow, butthin enough to cover an unwary or wrongly placed hand. “I promise to not make you uncomfortable. In fact, I expect this parting to come on much friendlier terms than our last.”
In a panic, Elizabeth looked at her father, whose smile faltered but remained in place. Before she found the words to disabuse him of any romantic intentions he still held, Mrs. Bennet spoke up, defeating her efforts to enjoy the rest of this day.
“Isn’t it wonderful, Lizzy?” said she, excitement mixing with anticipation, but for what Elizabeth feared to ask. “Mr. Collins has agreed to spend Christmas with us. I wonder if we might prevail upon him to do the scripture reading after the church service this year. Wouldn’t that be a welcome addition to our celebration, having a man of the cloth giving his scriptural interpretation of that blessed event?”
Elizabeth’s opinion was nowhere close to her mother’s, but prior experience and a desire to maintain peace throughout the upcoming week kept her silent.
If she focused on her own thoughts and refrained from commenting on his vapid remarks, she might survive Christmas without causing irreparable harm to her cousin. Although doubtful she possessed the strength to control her anger, she had to try.
Chapter II
