Page 5 of Chasing Shadows
He shook himself from his brooding and rode on in silence, until at last the Colonel spoke. His voice was low, yet steady. ‘You will wear yourself to nothing, Darcy, if you mean to carry the whole of this burden alone.
Darcy forced a thin smile, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Better I than another.”
Fitzwilliam studied him a moment, then gave a nod. “Peace, cousin. We will find him. And when we do, he will not escape us again.”
Chapter Three
Two days did not suffice to still the tongues of Meryton. Though the first fever of talk over Mr. Wickham’s death had begun to ebb, the tale yet ran from cottage to cottage with fresh embellishments at every door. It was into this uneasy calm that Mr. Collins returned, full of consequence and wholly occupied with the arrangements for his wedding.
He entered Longbourn with his usual pomp, bowing elaborately before Mrs. Bennet and her daughters, and scarcely pausing before announcing:
"I bring most felicitous news, my dear relations. My preparations with Miss Lucas proceed delightfully. I anticipate that our union shall be solemnised without delay. Indeed, having heard of this distasteful affair of Mr. Wickham's passing, I intend a swift departure. Once the vows are spoken, my bride shall be removed directly to Kent. There she will enjoy the immediate protection of Lady Catherine de Bourgh."
Mrs. Bennet clutched her handkerchief, eyes glistening with admiration. “Oh, Mr. Collins, how wise you are! How fortunate for Charlotte to be so quickly settled, and in so secure a place. I cannot but envy Lady Lucas her peace of mind. Ah, if only all my daughters were as well provided for! But here am I, with Lizzy obstinately refusing every sensible suggestion. With the killer still at large, I have urged her to go to London to stay with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner until this dreadful business is resolved. However, she will not be persuaded.”
Elizabeth, seated with folded hands and calm countenance, replied steadily, “Because, Mama, I think Merytonas safe a place as any, when one is among family. More than that, I cannot, in good conscience, abandon those striving to protect us. If we all fled in fear, what would become of our town? And further still, Mr. Darcy has shown himself most earnest in this affair. Whatever the gossip may allege, I believe him innocent, though many are determined to think otherwise.”
Mrs. Bennet gave a little shriek. “Innocent? Fiddle-faddle, child! Every person slain had first quarrelled with Mr. Darcy. Is that not proof enough? He brings calamity wherever he goes. To think you would speak in his defence—oh, you will quite undo me!”
Mr. Collins puffed out his chest and lifted a hand in solemn reproof. “On the contrary, madam, I have every reason to know Mr. Darcy guiltless. These unhappy incidents are the work of malevolent enemies who seek to undermine so distinguished a family. Before leaving Kent, I acquainted Lady Catherine with the disturbances in Hertfordshire, and she expressed her deepest concern. Indeed, I shall write to her forthwith with tidings of poor Mr. Wickham’s end. No one is more fitted than her ladyship to comprehend the sinister design of such a plot.”
Elizabeth coloured slightly, though she said nothing.
Encouraged by what he took for gratitude, Mr. Collins leaned forward with earnest benevolence. “Should my dear Charlotte agree, cousin, you would be most welcome to join us at Hunsford until these disquieting matters subside. The parsonage, though modest, is commodious enough to receive you, and Lady Catherine would undoubtedly commend the prudence of such a retreat.”
Elizabeth met his gaze with composure, though her lips curved in the faintest trace of irony. “I thank you, sir, but I am quite content at Longbourn. Indeed, I think it no small comfort to remain among my family. And besides”—her voice softened—“if Mr. Darcy is to be maligned at every turn, surely it is important that those who believe in his innocence remain where they may support him.”
Mrs. Bennet gasped. “Support him? Support the very man who brought this villainy into our midst? Heaven preserve us! You will never marry at this rate, Lizzy—for what gentleman would have you if you tied yourself to such disgrace?”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together, unwilling to betray the sharpness of her thoughts. That her mother should twist so grave a matter into the question of her prospects was vexing beyond measure, yet hardly surprising. She turned her eyes to the window, choosing silence over fruitless argument, for no reasoning of hers could ever alter her mother’s notions.
Invitations were dispatched almost at once upon Mr. Collins’s return, for he would brook no delay in the solemnisation of his marriage. A few objections were raised against the impropriety of holding such an event when the neighbourhood was still in disquiet, but these were swept aside by the combined eagerness of the Lucases and Mr. Collins’s determination.
Among the names inscribed for invitation, to Mrs. Bennet’s particular dismay, was that of Mr. Darcy. Mr. Collins, with grave formality, insisted upon the propriety of including his patroness’s near relation, and declared that Lady Catherine herself would expect no less.
Thus it was that, a week after Mr. Collins’s return, the household of Longbourn found themselves gathered at Lucas Lodge for the wedding. The celebration, though modest by comparison to larger county assemblies, was well attended by family and neighbours eager for diversion. Charlotte Lucas, clad in a simple gown, bore herself with quiet composure, while Mr. Collins swelled with self-importance at every turn, as though the entire affair had been staged to elevate his consequence.
Regardless of how they felt, it was a celebration, and soon a dance was announced. Amidst the hum of conversation and rustle of gowns, Mr. Samuel Reeds, the apothecary’s assistant, all courtesy, approached Elizabeth. With a bow that was neither too forward nor too distant, he requested her hand for a dance. Elizabeth, surprised but unwilling to refuse so civil a gesture, accepted with a smile.
The eyes of more than one guest followed the exchange, and Mrs. Bennet, though gratified to see her daughter so sought after, could not help but sigh at the thought that it was Charlotte, not Lizzy, who secured her future that day.
Just before the dance began, new arrivals were announced. Mr. Bingley entered first, his cheer undiminished, accompanied by his sisters, whose elegance was matched only by their studied disdain for the rustic cheer of Lucas Lodge. And behind them, tall, grave, and unlooked-for, came Mr. Darcy and his cousin, the Colonel.
A stir ran through the assembly. The murmur of voices shifted, glances darted and lingered, as though half the room had forgotten its conversation at once. Some drew back with caution, others whispered behind gloved hands. For all the shadows of suspicion that clung to his name, there was no mistaking the force of Mr. Darcy’s presence. Only Sir William Lucas, with courtly enthusiasm, advanced to greet him as though he had just entered the drawing rooms of St. James’s. Mr. Bennet, too, welcomed him with measured civility, showing none of the unease that tinged the faces of others.
Mrs. Bennet, however, was visibly discomposed. She coloured, fanned herself briskly, and declared the room intolerably warm, though no one else seemed to suffer. Her vexation at Mr. Darcy’s presence was only deepened when she saw her second daughter’s eyes turn—just for a moment—toward him.
Elizabeth herself was caught in a whirl of conflicting thoughts. That Mr. Darcy should appear at all astonished her. She could only suppose his attendance owed itself to Mr. Collins’s punctilious invitation, or perhaps in some measure to represent his aunt, Lady Catherine. His manner soon confirmed it, for though he greeted her family and the Lucases with politeness, he maintained a marked distance throughout the evening.
He was grave, his countenance betraying nothing of private sentiment. He danced not at all. He kept chiefly to Mr. Bingley’s and Colonel Fitzwilliam’s side, save when they danced. Elizabeth, observing him from across the room as she stood with her sisters, wondered at his purpose.What is he thinking? How is he coping with all of this? What is to be done next?
Soon, the dance began. Mr. Reeds proved not only a graceful partner but a pleasantly attentive one, too. His steps were sure, his bearing genteel, and Elizabeth, though preoccupied with heavier thoughts, found herself grateful for the reprieve.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said with a modest smile as they turned through the set, “may I confess something?”
“You may try, sir,” she replied, amusement flickering in her eyes.
“I have long wished to ask you for a dance, though I never quite summoned the courage until tonight.”
