Page 43 of To Love And To Cherish
Darcy’s eyes remained fixed as trunks were loaded and farewells exchanged. Each of Elizabeth’s sisters embraced her in turn, and then it was her father’s moment. Mr. Bennet held Elizabeth close, and even from a distance, Darcy could see they were exchanging their goodbyes.
And then she entered the carriage and was gone. The vehicle had already disappeared from view, yet Darcy remained unmoving. Something tore within him, sudden and sharp. She was gone, truly gone. Journeying toward Scotland, seeking a man she might respect and marry. Elizabeth had no intention of returning.
A sense of panic flared in his chest. He turned Ares at once and descended the hill. He had made a promise to see to Jane Bennet’s happiness, and he had one more task to fulfil for Mary. As for the panic, there was nothing to be done about it. She could never be his, yet he would exert himself to bring her some happiness by ensuring the well-being of her sisters.
Elizabeth was beyond the rector’s grasp. That danger was past, but Darcy would not rest until the man’s sights were properlyfixed. Jane’s beauty made her a natural target, and Mr. Collins, as heir, no doubt presumed himself entitled to choose among the daughters. But Jane belonged to Bingley. Elizabeth had made her wishes plain; therefore, Darcy would contrive for the happiness of both sisters.
At breakfast, he broached the matter. “Bingley, the rector arrives in Hertfordshire on Wednesday. Will you allow Mrs. Hurst and me to arrange his welcome dinner? Or do you wish Caroline to oversee it?”
Bingley looked up from his toast. “Caroline?” He shook his head. “No, she has grown increasingly intolerable. I daresay I shall forbid her from attending dinner at all if she cannot master her temper. Louisa has spoken with her, but to no effect. Very well, Darcy, work with Louisa. I shall deal with Caroline separately.”
And so Darcy sought out Mrs. Hurst. Together, they planned the menu and prepared the invitation, which Bingley and Darcy delivered to Longbourn in person. Georgiana accompanied them, for she had planned a walk with Kitty.
The visit lasted half an hour. Georgiana and Kitty strolled the garden paths while Jane and Bingley walked ahead, wholly absorbed in one another. Kitty recounted the improvements made to Mr. Collins’s chamber, new linens, thick towels, and a hip bath of his own.
Inside, Mr. Bennet received Mr. Darcy. When Darcy inquired after Elizabeth’s linguistic ability, Mr. Bennet grew animated. He spoke of his days at Cambridge as a professor of the romanicus languages. After the death of his elder brother, he returned to Longbourn, but his love of language endured. He had begun instructing Elizabeth when she was but two years old. He called the technique immersion, which consisted of readingaloud in the desired language while she had played at his feet, absorbing the sounds and words he read to her. As she grew, they spoke in the desired language the entire day.
Darcy was charmed. He asked more questions and learned that Elizabeth had studied agricultural management, crop rotation, and fertilization. She assisted monthly with the estate ledgers. Mary, by contrast, had no training in such matters. Mr. Bennet planned to hire a steward, but if Mary married Mr. Collins, he would require the couple to spend a week each quarter reviewing the accounts with him.
“I will also require,” Mr. Bennet added with a smile, “that Collins change his surname to Bennet. The estate must carry the name forward.”
Darcy grinned. Shortly after, he collected Georgiana and together they rode to Oakham Mount before returning to Netherfield.
The Bennets arrived in good time, to the rector's celebratory dinner, with Mr. Collins. Darcy shivered inwardly at the thought of how narrowly Elizabeth had escaped. He studied Mary throughout the evening. She blushed whenever the rector said something foolish, yet there was no disdain; rather, a quiet determination.
To be certain of her wishes, Darcy excused himself as the ladies withdrew and found Mary just rising from her seat.
“Miss Mary,” he said softly, “I promised your sister I would ensure Mr. Collins proposed to you, if you desired it. Having met him, do you still wish to marry him?”
Mary gave a small smile. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy, for all you have already done on my behalf, especially with Mamma. I do wishto marry Mr. Collins. He was not raised a gentleman, as I am sure you have observed. He speaks excessively, but I believe it stems from insecurity. At such times, he wrings his hands and his breathing grows rapid. His hygiene and dress also require considerable improvement. I shall ask Papa to insist that my betrothed engage a valet and adopt proper grooming habits. He is much in need of lessons in deportment as well, but first things first.”
She looked up at him earnestly. “He will never attain your level of refinement, sir. But he is intelligent. I questioned him this afternoon, and he answered wisely. He needs time and training. But do we not all strive to better ourselves?”
Darcy was moved. “Indeed, Miss Mary. We do.” He offered his hand. She shook it firmly, as one man to another.
“I promise you, I shall do all in my power to ensure that Mr. Collins understands your worth, both as a wife and as the better half of a clergyman,” he said.
Then he left her to fetch a bottle of cognac and rejoined the gentlemen. The room was thick with smoke and masculine talk. Darcy crossed to Mr. Collins.
“Mr. Collins, you may not recall from our introduction that I am Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s nephew.”
The rector’s face lit with confusion. “You are The Mr. Darcy of Pemberley? Betrothed to Miss Anne?”
Darcy smiled thinly. “I am Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, yes. But I am not betrothed to my cousin. That is a fiction my aunt enjoys propagating. My father expressly forbade such a union in his will, citing the inability of Fitzwilliam women to bear children.”
Mr. Collins blinked rapidly.
Darcy pressed on. “But that is not why I approach you. I wish to speak to you about your intended bride. You are aware that Lady Catherine has high expectations for both her servants and her family?”
“Oh yes, sir. She told me a rector must be married. Unwed men tend to cause trouble.”
“Just so,” said Darcy. “And did she mention the qualities she expects in a rector’s wife?”
Mr. Collins hesitated. “I cannot say that she did.”
Darcy frowned. “You are quite certain you have done nothing to displease her?”
“No, sir,” said the rector, now clearly alarmed.
