Compromised! Page 12

  Lord Matlock moved to stand alongside his sister, and Mr. Collins followed. Although he did not fully understand the arguments between the families, he knew from the conversation in the carriage from Matlock House in London to Meryton, that the person moving them to anger was his cousin, Elizabeth Bennet. Taking advantage of a momentary silence while the peels of Lady Catherine’s proclamations reverberated to the corners of the room and back, he stepped up and spoke.

  “My esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, has determined the source of these troubles is you, Cousin Elizabeth.” The greasy haired man was pleased to be of more than tacit support to the woman he revered. Looking intently at the alluring young woman in front of him, he failed to see the reaction of both Darcy and the colonel. His failure was to his detriment. “Your improper display just moments ago speaks of a deficit in your training that I will be pleased to step in and correct. Only discipline of the severest manner will serve to improve your circumstances though you could never hope to be in exalted company again after the wanton harlotry you displayed.”

  If the room had been stunned with Lady Catherine’s diatribe, the response to Mr. Collins was explosive. Had he not reached out his hand to grab Elizabeth’s arm, he might have been saved the pain and embarrassment of being physically cut down to size by Darcy. However, he did reach out only to have Darcy stop him by clasping that beefy hand in his own firm grip, bending the wrist backwards until Mr. Collins dropped to the floor on his knees.

  “Who are you to threaten my wife, for that is what she is to me?” Darcy yelled at the clergyman. He gave the man no quarter. “You will not touch her. You will not look at her. And you will not think of her. Am I understood?” Darcy’s voice had dropped in volume until only a low rumble was heard. He had yet to let go of the man’s hand.

  Mr. Collins was whimpering in fear and pain.

  Grateful that she fell under the protection of her beloved, Elizabeth observed that Darcy’s actions were serving two purposes. First, he was soundly putting the man who claimed to be her cousin in his place, and secondly, both Lord Matlock and Lady Catherine had stepped back, anxious at the unexpected violence coming from their normally placid nephew. Realizing Darcy’s purpose was served, she brushed her hand down Darcy’s arm, whispering his name. Darcy’s response was immediate.

  Turning to Elizabeth, he shook off Collins’ hand as if it was something smelly to be rid of.

  Elizabeth was not looking at Darcy. Her unrelenting stare was on the siblings. Once Darcy observed her, he did the same.

  Lord Matlock paid no attention to Collins and neither did Lady Catherine. For the first time in their memory, they both looked at their nephew with a measure of fear. It was an uncomfortable feeling that was a bitter taste in Hugh Fitzwilliam’s mouth, almost making him gag as he swallowed it down. But, swallow it down he did. He was the head of the family. As the Earl of Smithton, Lord Matlock, he was the man to be respected and revered. He and he alone, would make the rules. It was time to remind both his son and his nephew who was in charge.

  “You have shamed us by your dishonorable conduct, Darcy. Attaching yourself to this woman has changed you, and not for the good, young man.” Lord Matlock had considerable skills which he used with finesse arguing his point in the House of Lords. He had no doubt of his success with young Darcy. “You will do your duty by Anne. It is expected.” Hugh Fitzwilliam extended his arm and waved his fingers like he was swatting at a fly. “Away with her. You have had your pleasure. She can be replaced after you marry your cousin or you can set her up under your protection once the gossip of your actions has settled down. It would be expected of a man in your position. But, this,” he glared at Elizabeth, “ends now.”

  Not even the actions of George Wickham angered him to the point his uncle had. Cold fury settled in clear to his bones and Darcy almost shook with the intensity of his emotions. It took every effort to get the needed words out and keep his voice calm.

  “You have both had your say. Now, I will have mine.” Before he could continue, Darcy felt Elizabeth quiver next to him. When she put her fingers over her mouth, he knew his priority was removing her from the room. His course was clear.

  Turning his full attention to her, Darcy was shocked to see it was not tears of embarrassment, but mirth that filled her eyes.

  “Elizabeth?” Her reaction confused him. What could she have possibly found in this situation to cause humor?

  She could not help herself. Laughter bubbled out until she leaned on Darcy to keep standing. Darcy questioned her thinking. Colonel Fitzwilliam also wondered at the woman Darcy had attached himself to. Her reaction raised the ire in both Lady Catherine and Lord Matlock. No one person gave attention to Mr. Collins or his feelings.

  “Dearest Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth’s right hand was tucked into the arm she was leaning on so she put her left hand over his pounding heart. It was a gentle embrace. “They claim to be related to you, yet they know nothing of you, do they? For your uncle to advise you in this way tells me that we will spend little time in his company after we are wed. For if he spent any time at all with you, my dear man, he would know you to be the most honorable man of his acquaintance. That he is unaware of your true nature means his opinion of you and me is of no importance at all. Am I correct in my thinking, dearest?"

  Ah, there was his Elizabeth. Shame that he had doubted her thinking nibbled at his conscience. They were still learning of each other. He should have had confidence in her.

  “You are correct, my heart.”

  “Then, I believe we have the upper hand do we not?” She first looked at the colonel and then back at Darcy. “Both Miss de Bourgh and Miss Darcy are safely away from your aunt and uncle. They are now under ‘your protection’.” She chuckled when she realized Darcy appreciated her use of the terms Lord Matlock had used as an insult. “My father has signed the settlement and you have purchased a license, though we thought it unnecessary at the time. Is this not true?”

  “It is.” Darcy’s pride in his betrothed escalated as he appreciated her intelligence. His love was growing for her by the moment. The fullness of this emotion pushed the remaining anger from him. He would make her his wife as soon as it could be arranged.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam watched Darcy and Elizabeth interact with each other and could not help but admire the tender affection they so easily displayed. That he had seen his cousin calm under the gentle touch of his betrothed filled him with amazement. He finally spoke. “It has long been my desire to have you stand up with me if I ever have the circumstances and find the right woman to marry, Darcy. I would be pleased to provide the same service to you.” He could see his comment angered his father further.

  “You will not!” Lord Matlock expected fealty from his youngest. Certainly, he had done nothing to provide for the colonel, yet he was the offspring of his loins. “Your place is beside me, Richard. You are my son.”

  “I suggest you get used to disappointment, Father.” Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was every inch a man in charge. “I have been on my own too long and have had the responsibility of command too many years to bow before a man who seeks only to please himself.” A line had been drawn and Richard stood at opposite ends from the man responsible for his birth. “Unlike you, I see who the victor is and have chosen to support my cousin.”

  It dawned on Darcy that for the first time since his father died, he was not alone. The feeling was so pleasurable that he was able to smile at both Elizabeth and Richard. It was when his eyes were going from one to the other that he caught sight of Mr. Collins creeping on his hands and knees to hover behind Lady Catherine. Darcy knew his course.

  “Lord Matlock. Lady Catherine.” Darcy was ready to be done with this. “Your travel to Hertfordshire has been in vain. I will tell you this, and I will say it only once. Any welcome at any of my homes is solely dependent on your showing respect for my future wife. If I hear one negative word— if she is shunned in any way— I will cut both of you publicly.”
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br />   “You would not dare.” Lady Catherine spewed. She knew her nephew’s greatest weakness. “My sister, your mother, would roll in her grave to know how her only son was treating his family.”

  “Oh, I would dare, Lady Catherine.” Darcy rested his right hand over Elizabeth’s. “My mother would love Elizabeth and she would rejoice that Pemberley will be a home filled with happiness, not bitter pretension. Do not…” His icy stare stunned his aunt into silence. “Do not ever imply my mother would be displeased with me. Ever.”

  Looking at his cousin, Darcy reached over and took his hat from the table. “I believe we are finished here, Richard.” Without taking his leave, he turned and escorted Elizabeth from the room. He was unsurprised to hear yelling between the siblings before the door was even closed.

  ***

  Two hours later, Mr. Collins presented himself at Longbourn in hopes of gaining a hearing ear with the Master, Mr. Bennet. Both Lord Matlock and Lady Catherine had commissioned Collins to penetrate the estate to determine how best the family might be worked on. He had been given two options. First, a draft from Lady Catherine’s bank in the amount of ten-thousand pounds was written to Mr. Thomas Bennet for relocating his second daughter to a place Darcy would never find. The second edict was to attach himself to one of the daughters, preferably the eldest, so his presence at Longbourn would be frequent. Therefore, regular reports of Elizabeth’s activities could be supplied to his superiors, reassuring them that she was no longer a threat to their plans.

  When Mr. Collins caught sight of Miss Jane Bennet as he walked down the hallway to Longbourn’s study, he was overjoyed at his good fortune. Being attached to a beautiful woman was fitting for a man in his position. With oversight from Lady Catherine de Bourgh, she would blossom into a wife befitting the heir of Longbourn.

  However, the conversation had not gone well. Mr. Bennet stubbornly resisted every effort to appreciate the attentions of someone attached to the sphere of his patroness. Finally, Collins paused to reflect on the situation and came up with, what he assumed, was a failsafe argument.

  “Cousin Bennet.” Collins was in such a tither that he did not wait for Mr. Bennet to close his book before he began speaking. He had not registered the Master of Longbourn’s firm reply of, “You will not under any circumstances attach yourself to any of my daughters, Mr. Collins,” as a dismissal. Nor had his intuition been piqued when the elder gentleman had scooted back in his large leather chair, picked up his book, opened it, settled his spectacles more firmly on his nose, and begun to read. The rector could not fathom Mr. Bennet’s disinterest in a subject so important to a man of the cloth.

  “Cousin Bennet,” he repeated, clearing his throat loudly.

  Mr. Bennet chose not to look up from the volume in his hands. Mr. Collins chose not to notice.

  “I could not help but hear Mrs. Bennet’s delight at having an unattached gentleman on the premises as I was shown to your study, Cousin. With five unmarried daughters, you, who have failed to produce a male child, have put them in danger of losing their home.” When he noted Mr. Bennet’s rapid lift of his chin, Collins felt success was guaranteed. He had the man’s full attention. “Just as I realize the wisdom of pleasing my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Mr. Bennet, you must find it wise to please your own wife, for she has had to bear your attentions these many years. With my marriage to Miss Bennet, you would have one less mouth to feed, one less future to arrange, and I would see fit to keep your wife and remaining daughters on at Longbourn after your passing. With the helpful instruction of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, the prospects of the females of your household would greatly improve. I feel I can safely speak on behalf of the Mistress of Rosings Park when I say that she would waste no time finding a suitable replacement for Mrs. Bennet so she would not be a widow for long.”

  The speed with which Mr. Bennet moved was a surprise to Mr. Collins. He would not have guessed a man his age could stand, round his desk, and plant himself directly in front of him with rapidity. Though his cousin was several inches shorter than the clergyman, his fierce countenance made up for any perceived shortcomings. Thomas Bennet knew his wife had been speaking of Colonel Fitzwilliam being in their home, not the offensive rector.

  “I am surprised, Mr. Collins. For this a short acquaintance, you presume to know what is best for the woman who has borne my attentions for the past five and twenty years. This is a point I will need to devote hours on in mediation until I understand how this can be so.” Mr. Bennet spoke softly as he pointed towards the study door. The sound would have been recognized as unnatural by any of Mr. Bennet’s family or friends.

  Mr. Collins did not have the benefit of that knowledge.

  “My esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, being of superior understanding and the same elevated age as the woman who has been joined to you in holy matrimony…”

  Mr. Bennet wanted to laugh at the man and punch him at the same time. It was rare when a specimen crossed his doorway who provided a tremendous amount of fodder for the ridiculous. In his lifetime, Mr. Bennet could not recall having his ire stirred from a spark to a conflagration so quickly.

  “Mr. Collins, as a religious man, might I ask for your opinion of a scripture that has long puzzled me?” It was a trap Mr. Bennet was setting for his unsuspecting prey.

  Mr. Collins almost smirked. Having been chosen by the great Lady Catherine to receive the living at Hunsford assured him of his expert theological understanding. He put his beefy hands to his chest and clutched the lapels of his jacket. He had long hours of practicing a pious pose in the mirror that hung over the fireplace in his sitting room. Mr. Collins lifted his chin, as if gazing into the heavens, and in what he perceived as his “holiest” voice, asked his cousin to proceed.

  “I appreciate your readiness, Cousin.” Thomas Bennet took in a deep breath and prepared to enjoy himself – immensely. “When the Bible speaks of ‘two becoming one’, of whom is it speaking?”

  Mr. Collins wanted to gloat. The foolish man asked a question that any first-year student would know. “He is speaking of the marriage state where the two becoming one are a husband and wife.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Collins, for your rapid response.” As he paused, he watched the man in front of him. He wanted to shake his head and his fist at someone so hypocritical. “When you marry, with whom will you be one flesh?”

  “Why, sir, as a devotee of the scriptures, I would be one with my wife.”

  “Ah, Cousin. I had supposed you would answer in such a way.” His pause this time was solely for effect. “If you are one flesh with the woman you marry, having her reside in your heart and your thinking, what position would your esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh hold?”

  William Collins felt like he had been pushed into the corner with his back to the wall. If he answered his cousin by including Lady Catherine in his marital decisions, his potential father-in-law would think he was disrespecting the proper position of his daughter. If he answered that his wife would be his partner to the exclusion of Lady Catherine, he stood the chance of losing the living he desperately needed and rejoiced in. He would be unable to provide a home and sustenance for his bride.

  When Mr. Collins opened his mouth and no sound came out, Mr. Bennet growled. He had had enough. “You will not marry any of my daughters. You are not to concern yourself with my wife or my family. Remove yourself from my home. You will not step foot inside Longbourn again as long as I draw breath. Am I understood?”

  The clergyman bobbed his head and left the room. As he was walked back through the same hallway he had so recently trod, Collins heard the unmistakable sound of a woman rapturously exclaiming over an upcoming dinner at Netherfield Park with the Darcys, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and the returning Mr. Charles Bingley. Collins knew, to please Lady Catherine, he would have to find some way to be in attendance. He hoped that shrill voice did not belong to the eldest Miss Bennet.

  ***

  The relief Charles Bingley felt when
his sister calmed herself was tremendous. Caroline’s acquiescence had been so complete that she had suggested they travel together for his return to Hertfordshire. After a brief stop at Netherfield Park, she would proceed by carriage, with a maid to serve as her companion, to the port city of Liverpool for her removal to Ireland. Bingley had expected to hear more complaints.

  A note mentioning his arrival was sent to his housekeeper to have his rooms ready along with directions to expect guests his first night back. He then contacted Darcy to extend an invitation to the Bennet and Lucas families for the occasion.

  Bingley had thought long and hard about his last contact with Jane Bennet. He knew where he had gone wrong and resolved to be a better man. With Caroline gone to Ireland and the Hursts remaining in London, there would be nothing to distract him from pursing Jane Bennet as his wife.

  Chapter Seventeen

  While Mr. Collins was slinking back to the Meryton Inn, Darcy, Elizabeth, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Jane were standing across the hall from Mr. Bennet’s study. Darcy and Elizabeth were close to each other, whispering reassurances as young lovers do.

  Richard could not stop himself from watching the couple. Darcy’s relaxed stance was the first hint of how much his relationship with Elizabeth was doing for him. Typically, Darcy was fraught with tension after a meeting with either Lady Catherine or her brother. Elizabeth’s love for him had the power to soothe and comfort him for the first time since Lady Anne had been alive. Richard rejoiced at the gift her affections were providing.

  His cousin’s betrothed embodied everything he now knew he wanted in a wife. After the events of the morning, he desired a wife who was fiercely loyal and courageous, with the perception to understand circumstances and a desire to be a true partner. Years of watching his father dominate his mother, only to observe her subtle rebellions, had soured him on the institution of marriage— or so he had thought. Seeing Elizabeth stand staunchly at Darcy’s side built on the longing he was already starting to feel.