Mr. Darcy’s eyes found Colonel Fitzwilliam, where he was speaking with Jane. “Fitzwilliam is her second guardian by my father’s will. He has always fulfilled the role of a jovial cousin who makes herlaugh—because of his position in the army, the greater part of her care falls to me.”
“Such a relationship cannot be desirable as she becomes a woman,” observed Elizabeth.”
“You are correct,” said Mr. Darcy, appreciating her perception. “I am trying to mold our relationship into a more proper sibling connection, but her reticence has proven an obstacle.”
“What she needs,” said Elizabeth, a daring comment, “is a sister to whom she can look up to. If your wife is her sister, she must necessarily see you as a brother.”
Mr. Darcy’s responding look was unreadable. “You may be correct, Miss Elizabeth.”
He surprised her with his next comment. “Do you know of anyone who would be willing to fill the void?”
It was only the twinkling of the gentleman’s eyes that told Elizabeth he was jesting. Feeling warmer toward him than she had ever felt before, Elizabeth was comfortable returning it, though she chose not to seize the obvious retort.
“With your situation in life, I must assume there are many ladies who would be pleased to step in.”
“I shall not say you are incorrect, but I wish for something more.”
The conversation stayed with Elizabeth far longer than she expected. Though she did not know why or what it meant, she suspected Mr. Darcy’s words of deeper meaning than they had seemed on the surface.
Soon, the day of Charlotte’s wedding arrived. To the Bennets’ relief, Mr. Collins was staying at Lucas Lodge, not Longbourn, for none of them could have withstood him with equanimity. Elizabeth was to stand up with her close friend, and the family set out from Longbourn for the wedding of a dear friend. Perhaps it is best to say nothing of the particular feelings of each of the members of the family, for though most were happy for Charlotte, there was one who still held her opinion of her artful machinations, stealing Longbourn away from those who had called it home for centuries. That Mrs. Bennet made no overt comments was less than Elizabeth suspected, more than she had hoped for.
The ceremony was emotional, as most weddings were; the bride was radiant, and the groom was silly. Elizabeth stood by her friend’s side, feeling all the emotions customary to such an event, though magnified by her certainty that her dearest friend would find no true happiness with Mr. Collins, determined to support her, nonetheless.When the ceremony ended, and the couple signed the register, Elizabeth looked on with happiness that her friend would have a home of her own, but sadness for the dreary years she must now endure Mr. Collins.
Given the identity of the bride’s father, it was no surprise that most of the gentle families in the neighborhood turned out for the wedding and the breakfast held thereafter. From his manner, Elizabeth thought he had used the excuse of his daughter’s wedding to hold another of his infamous parties, though they met all the usual forms necessary on the occasion. As such, both Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy were also in attendance.
“Mr. Darcy!” exclaimed Mr. Collins the moment they returned to Lucas Lodge for the breakfast, bowing as low as one would to a monarch. “Please allow me to state my humble gratitude for the singular honor of your presence at my wedding. Words cannot express how fortunate Mrs. Collins and I feel on the occasion.”
The way Mr. Darcy looked at the parson, Elizabeth was certain he was wondering how best to swat the insignificant gnat buzzing around his head. As Elizabeth recalled, he still did not have the benefit— if such a term could even be applied on the occasion—of an introduction to the unctuous cleric. Mr. Collins acted as if he had known Mr. Darcy for many years; Mr. Darcy did not.
“Do not concern yourself, Miss Elizabeth,” when she offered an apology on Mr. Collins’s behalf. “I am not unacquainted with the sort of man with whom my aunt prefers to surround herself. Mr. Collinsisperhaps an extreme example, but he is not singular.”
“That is curious, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, regarding him with amused disbelief, “for I have always thought Mr. Collinsissingular.”
The gentleman chuckled under his breath. “Yes, I suppose he is. Tell me, Miss Elizabeth—do you regret your refusal now that your friend has accepted the position you declined?”
“The only regret I feel,” replied Elizabeth, “is how my friend tied herself to a man she cannot respect.”
Mr. Darcy nodded. “Pardon me, Miss Bennet, but I feel I must keep my distance from you for the rest of this event.”
At Elizabeth’s curious expression, Mr. Darcy explained. “My aunt has long desired that I marry my cousin, Anne de Bourgh. Anne and I have no affinity for each other and do not mean to oblige her. If Mr. Collins sees us speaking for long and my aunt has informed him of her wishes...”
“He will tell her,” said Elizabeth, finishing his thought. Sheregarded him with no little curiosity. “What do you suppose she would do then?”
“Fly to Longbourn in a rage to make her sentiments known.”
“Then by all means, let us refrain from giving him any notions. I would not wish to provoke your aunt when there is nothing between us.”
The way Mr. Darcy regarded her seemed odd to Elizabeth, but he agreed, and they separated soon after. Mr. Darcy, she noted, stood by Mr. Bennet in conversation, though he exchanged words with others when appropriate, while Elizabeth stayed near Charlotte as convention dictated. As Mr. Collins had been watching them while they spoke, she suspected he had already gotten a notion—thus, it was fortunate they separated when they did, easing his concerns.
What Elizabeth had not expected was for the parson to concentrate his attention on another. Though it was his wedding breakfast, Mr. Collins paid little attention to his new bride, his gaze often fixed on Jane and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Unless Lady Catherine hadanotherdaughter she had determined to marry the colonel, Elizabeth could not understand the reason for his scrutiny. To the best of her knowledge, the parson had not been introduced to the colonel, though Elizabeth knew he was aware of the man’s identity. Mr. Collins was not a man to stay silent, especially when it concerned his dear patroness. When Elizabeth reflected on the scene later, she realized that Colonel Fitzwilliam had been watching him, perhaps anticipating he would make a scene.
“Cousin Jane,” said Mr. Collins when he approached her sometime after, conveniently when the colonel had stepped away, “I must speak to you on a matter of some urgency.”
Jane, as ever placid, nodded, though Elizabeth thought she caught a hint of knowing in her sister’s manner. “How may I assist you, Mr. Collins?”
“By ceasing this objectionable behavior.”
“What do you mean?” asked Jane, though Elizabeth was certain her sister had a precise understanding of his meaning.
