Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 4 Read online

  ‘It will,’ said Mr Darcy.

  ‘Then I have nothing more to say, except “Congratulations”.’

  ‘Congratulations on going to my execution?’ asked Mr Darcy, with the lift of one eyebrow.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed.

  ‘It happens to us all, sooner or later. It is a gentleman’s inescapable doom.’

  Doom. The word sent a shiver down Mr Darcy’s spine.

  But that was ridiculous. He had known all along it would come to this. His future had been mapped out since his cradle and although he had thought he could alter it, he had found no future he wanted so much that he was prepared to go against his family to get it.

  No future, except one: a life with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. But that future was unsuitable. And besides, it was not a full-blown future he had seen, only the glimpse of one. But by taking swift action he had nipped it in the bud so that the unsuitable possibility would never come to pass. So it could never expose him to the ridicule of his friends, the censure of his family and his own contempt.

  Mr Darcy was to marry his social equal. It would be announced to Mr and Mrs Collins at dinner and by the time Miss Elizabeth Bennet arrived on the morrow the news would be all around the neighbourhood: Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy was to marry Miss Anne de Bourgh.

  So there was an end of it.

  Chapter Three

  Miss Elizabeth Bennet put on her pelisse, settled her bonnet on her head and tied the strings under her chin, put on her gloves and then turned to her sister, Jane.

  ‘I am sorry to be leaving you so soon,’ she said. ‘I must confess I would rather stay here with you and our Aunt Gardiner than go to Hunsford parsonage.’

  Elizabeth had stayed briefly with her aunt and uncle in Gracechurch Street, in order to break the journey from Longbourn to Hunsford parsonage, which was on the Rosings estate. She had enjoyed seeing her aunt and uncle again, together with their dear children, but she had been most pleased to see her sister, Jane.

  Jane had been staying in Gracechurch Street since January because she had suffered the pangs of an unhappy love affair and the Gardiners had invited her to spend some time with them in London in order to improve her spirits. Before Christmas, Jane had fallen in love with a gentleman named Mr Charles Bingley and he had fallen in love with her. But then his friend, Mr Darcy – a haughty and arrogant man – had interfered, and Mr Bingley had left the neighbourhood, leaving Jane heartbroken. Elizabeth was glad to see that Jane was now looking much recovered.

  ‘Are you not looking forward to seeing Charlotte?’ asked Jane.

  ‘A little. But since she married Mr Collins, we can never be the friends we once were,’ said Elizabeth. ‘I cannot forgive her for marrying such a pompous and ridiculous man.’

  ‘She seems very happy with him,’ said Jane. ‘Her letters speak of her parish and her poultry and I believe she is content. I think you should try to be happy for her.’

  ‘Dear Jane,’ said Elizabeth, embracing her. ‘You make me ashamed. You are so good yourself, you see only the good in others. Very well. I will try to see Charlotte as a happy woman and I will try to see Mr Collins as —’

  She burst out laughing.

  ‘Lizzy!’ said Jane reprovingly.

  ‘It is no good,’ said Elizabeth. ‘I shall never see him as anything but a stupid man. However, I shall endeavour to hide my opinion of him and treat him with the respect his position deserves. And if I find myself truly overwhelmed with laughter, I shall retreat to my room and laugh at him in private.

  ‘Oh, Lizzy!’ said Jane with a smile.

  The two sisters embraced again, and then Elizabeth walked out to the carriage with her aunt.

  ‘You are reassured by seeing Jane, I hope,’ said Mrs Gardiner.

  ‘Yes, I am. Her spirits have improved a great deal, thanks to you and my uncle, and of course the children. Jane has always been a great favourite with them and their love and affection have done her good.’

  ‘Ys, they have. And what of you, Lizzy? Have you recovered from your disappointment over Mr Wickham paying his addresses to Mary King?’

  Mr Wickham had arrived in Elizabeth’s neighbourhood the previous autumn and had paid her marked attention. She had liked him very much, but he had no money and when Miss King had inherited ten thousand pounds he had transferred his attentions to her.

  ‘Yes, aunt, I believe I have.’

  ‘Good. And now, before you go, your uncle and I would like to invite you to go on a tour of pleasure with us in the summer.’

  ‘Oh, Aunt, I would like it of all things!’ said Elizabeth. She thought of Mr Wickham, who had abandoned her for an heiress, and Mr Darcy, who had ruined Jane’s happiness, and she thought she would be glad if she never saw another eligible gentleman in her life, for it seemed they were more trouble than they were worth. ‘What are men to rocks and mountains?’ she said. ‘I thank you most sincerely and I accept.’

  The two ladies took an affectionate leave of each other and at last Lizzy took her place in the carriage, where she joined her fellow travellers, Sir William Lucas and Miss Maria Lucas - Charlotte’s father and sister.

  She waved to her own relations as the carriage pulled away and then she turned her thoughts forward, to Hunsford parsonage.

  The journey from London to Kent was full of interest, but most interesting of all was their arrival at the Parsonage. Mr Collins was in his element as he showed his guests around. There was a small gate with a short gravel walk to the house and then they sat in the neat and comfortable parlour before going out into the garden.

  ‘And there,’ said Mr Collins, beaming with a wide and pompous smile, ‘is Rosings Park. Is it not a magnificent sight?’

  Miss Maria Lucas enthused over the Park and Sir William Lucas did likewise. Elizabeth, when pressed, said that it was very handsome. This did not satisfy Mr Collins, but since he supplied his own superlatives, Elizabeth was not pressed to say more.

  ‘Tomorrow you will have the honour of dining at Rosings Park, where you will meet Lady Catherine de Bourgh and her daughter, Miss Anne de Bourgh. You could not have come at a better time, for Miss Anne de Bourgh is soon to be married, and who do you think is to officiate at the ceremony?’ asked Mr Collins.

  He looked so excited that Elizabeth assumed it must be the Archbishop of Canterbury, and said so.

  Mr Collins was momentarily crestfallen, but the he rallied and said, ‘It would be seemly for Miss Anne de Bourgh to be married by such an illustrious person, but alas! Her health is not good and she cannot travel, so the ceremony will take place at Rosings church.’

  He was obviously bursting to say more, but he asked her again who she thought was to officiate. Charlotte, behind him, cast a pleading look at Elizabeth. Elizabeth had guessed by now the name of the clergyman who was to have such a high honour bestowed upon him. Instead of tormenting him by pretending not to know, she reined in her natural humour and said, ‘Mr Collins. Could it be you?’

  Her answer delighted him.

  With many bows in the direction of Rosings Park, he made a jumbled rejoinder in which the words ‘ . . . condescension . . . high honour . . . noble patroness . . . ’ were often repeated.

  ‘And who is the lucky man?’ asked Elizabeth, although she suspected she already knew, for Mr Wickham had told her that the odious Mr Darcy was destined for Miss de Bourgh.

  Mr Collins’s words confirmed it.

  ‘I am sure I hope they will be very happy together.’ Two proud, insolent people, she added to herself.

  ‘Oh, they will, they will,’ said Mr Collins, almost dancing with glee. ‘Colonel Fitzwilliam is to stand up with Mr Darcy, and who do you think her attendant is to be?’

  ‘I cannot guess,’ said Elizabeth, laughing inside at his ridiculous excitement.

  ‘My own dear Charlotte,’ said Mr Collins. ‘And Lady Catherine has decreed that her sister, Miss Maria Lucas, is to be the unmarried attendant.’

  Maria almost fainted at the thought of the high hon
our that was to be bestowed upon her, and it was some time before the atmosphere returned to normal.

  ‘I know you are laughing at us, Lizzy,’ said Charlotte, later that day, when she and Elizabeth were taking a stroll around the garden. The others had remained indoors. ‘But really, it is a big event for this neighbourhood. Lady Catherine is inclined to be dictatorial but she is a sensible woman at heart and her daughter is . . . ’

  ‘Yes?’ asked Elizabeth, smiling.

  ‘Her daughter is a very elegant young woman.’

  It did not help Charlotte’s case that, at that very moment, a low phaeton appeared at the garden gate. Seated inside were two ladies. Charlotte lost no time in introducing them as Miss Anne de Bourgh and her companion, Mrs Jenkinson.

  Miss Anne de Bourgh, Elizabeth noticed, was little and cross-looking.

  A perfect match for Mr Darcy! thought Elizabeth.

  Mr Darcy was thinking the same thing when he went into the drawing-room that evening just before dinner. It was a perfect match, and the sooner the marriage took place, the better. He had already put arrangements for a special license in hand, so that he and Anne could be married without waiting for the banns to be read, and before long they would be man and wife.

  A footman opened the door of the drawing-room and his eyes fell on Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He was taken aback, for he had forgotten quite how lovely she was. Her dark hair was arranged with glossy ringlets framing her face and her complexion had a healthy glow. She made Anne look even more sickly than usual. No matter. What need did Anne have of beauty when she had breeding instead?

  ‘I hear I have to congratulate you, Mr Darcy,’ said Miss Elizabeth.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, making a stiff bow.

  ‘I hope you and Miss de Bourgh will be very happy.’

  ‘That is inevitable,’ said Lady Catherine. ‘When two such illustrious families unite, it is a cause for happiness throughout the county.’

  ‘I am glad someone is to be happy in marriage,’ said Elizabeth, looking at him meaningfully. ‘For when two people are in love, it is a tragedy if anything, or anyone . . . ’ Here she broke off and looked him directly in the eye, ‘ . . . should separate them.’

  ‘Yes, indeed, a tragedy,’ said Mr Collins, eager to join in but not understanding what was at the heart of the conversation.

  Mr Darcy understood, and felt uncomfortable. He was not entirely happy with the part he had played in separating his friend from Jane Bennet. He did not regret the outcome. Far from it. With Bingley, as with himself, he had made the sensible decision and saved them both from shame and embarrassment. But he was not happy with the means he had employed, since they smacked of deceit, and deceit was abhorrent to him. However, what was done, was done.

  ‘Do you know each other?’ asked Colonel Fitzwilliam, looking from one to the other of them, for it was clear they had already met.

  ‘Mr Darcy stayed in my area before Christmas with a friend of his, Mr Charles Bingley, and so we were neighbours for a time.’

  ‘I see. Then you must tell me all about it. I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.’

  Mr Darcy listened uncomfortably as Elizabeth entertained Colonel Fitzwilliam with an account of the Meryton assembly, when he had danced only four dances, though gentlemen were in short supply.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam was very well entertained, and as Mr Darcy listened to Elizabeth’s lively conversation, he was glad he had settled his betrothal to Anne, for otherwise he might have been tempted to throw caution to the wind and propose to Elizabeth instead.

  What a mistake that would have been! To ally himself to a family so far beneath him would have been mortifying. To become the son-in-law of Mrs Bennet and the brother-in-law of Lydia Bennet would have been degrading. How glad he was that he had spared himself such humiliations! For he would have been tempted, he could not deny. Miss Elizabeth was obviously trying to attract him. Her arch smiles, her playful banter, her clever conversation – all were designed to bewitch him. Even now, when she knew him to be betrothed, she was still determined to enchant him! And, he had to admit, she was succeeding.

  And so he was relieved when Lady Catherine, growing tired of a conversation in which she could take no part, said, ‘This is all very well, but we have no more time to dwell on the past. We must think of the future. The wedding will take place on Wednesday. There will be a rehearsal tomorrow, that is to say Tuesday. You, Mr Collins, will be required to attend, as will you, Colonel, and you, Mrs Collins. Miss Maria Lucas, you will also attend. Anne and Fitzwilliam will of course be there.’

  Mr Darcy noticed that his aunt said nothing about Miss Elizabeth, and he was glad she was to have no part in the proceedings. The less he saw of her the better.

  Chapter Four

  Elizabeth was glad when at last Lady Catherine called the carriage to take Mr Collins’s party home. She had enjoyed talking to Colonel Fitzwilliam, but Mr Darcy had spent the entire evening watching her in a most disconcerting way and Lady Catherine was downright insulting. Lady Catherine had enquired if Elizabeth played the pianoforte and then, when Elizabeth said that, yes, she did, Lady Catherine had said she might play the piano in the housekeeper’s room. Miss Anne de Bourgh had looked cross all evening and had retired early, saying she did not feel well, and so it was with relief that Elizabeth once more found herself back at the parsonage.

  As soon as she was inside, Elizabeth said she was tired and bid the rest of the party goodnight. Sir William and Maria said they were tired likewise, and everyone retired to bed.

  Elizabeth slept well, but she awoke early to the sound of someone being sick. She washed and dressed quickly and then went downstairs to find out what was wrong.

  ‘Oh, Lizzy, there you are,’ said Charlotte, looking very concerned. ‘Mr Collins is ill and he cannot possibly attend the wedding rehearsal.’

  ‘Can you not ask his curate to stand in for him?’ asked Elizabeth.

  ‘His curate is away. Mr Collins gave him leave to go and visit his mother,’ said Charlotte. ‘Lady Catherine will be most displeased if he is not there, and the worry of disappointing her is making him worse.’

  ‘What is wrong?’ asked Elizabeth.

  ‘I think it must be something he ate, though I would not say so to Lady Catherine. She would not be pleased to be told that anything tainted had been served at her table.’

  ‘It must have been the fish, then, for Mr Collins took a goodly helping of it and we did not.’ Elizabeth thought for a moment and then said, ‘Who looks after the next parish? Surely they must have a clergyman there?’

  ‘Yes. Rev. Mr Pike. But he is ten miles away,’ said Charlotte.

  ‘That is little more than an hour’s ride with a good horse,’ said Elizabeth. ‘The rehearsal is not until this afternoon. I believe there will be time to send for him. Then he can conduct the rehearsal if Mr Collins is not well enough.’

  ‘But who is to go?’ asked Charlotte anxiously.

  ‘Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed a sensible, agreeable gentleman. I saw him walking through the field behind the house not five minutes ago. I will ask him if he will render his assistance.’

  ‘Thank you, Lizzy,’ said Charlotte sincerely.

  The sounds coming from Mr Collins’s bedroom were not agreeable, and Charlotte said, ‘I must attend to Mr Collins. You will excuse me?’

  ‘I will.’

  Elizabeth quickly put on her pelisse, bonnet, gloves and boots and then hurried out of the parsonage, walking briskly after the Colonel. She soon caught up with him, for he was taking a leisurely stroll through the fields. She explained the situation and he gave a wry smile.

  ‘It will not do to disappoint Lady Catherine,’ he said. ‘If she has commanded a rehearsal, then a rehearsal she must have. I will send one of the grooms from Rosings Park and give him instructions he must not return without the Mr Pike.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Elizabeth.

  ‘Will you walk with me a little way?’ he asked.

/>   ‘I would like to very much, but I must refuse,’ said Elizabeth regretfully. ‘I must return to the parsonage and see if there is anything I can do to help my friend.’

  Colonel Fitzwilliam bowed and Elizabeth walked briskly back to the parsonage.

  Mr Collins was no better, although she could hear him telling Charlotte that he was all right and that he would get out of bed at any minute. Then he would be ill again and start groaning and there would be no more talk of getting out of bed.

  Elizabeth made herself useful by entertaining Maria and Sir William. Maria was fussing about what posy she should carry, and Sir William was explaining how things were done at St James’s.

  By the time lunchtime came, it was clear that Mr Collins would not be sufficiently recovered to take the rehearsal and Elizabeth promised to take the news to the church herself.

  ‘Thank you, Lizzy,’ said Charlotte. ‘I would take it myself but I cannot leave Mr Collins in this condition and the rehearsal must go ahead without me. Fortunately, Lady Catherine will not be there and so my absence will not disappoint her. I would ask Maria to take the news, but she is so overawed by Mr Darcy that she can barely speak in his presence, and Papa is not much better.’

  ‘You may rely on me not to be rendered speechless by his presence. I will inform him of the situation, stressing that it is not Mr Collins’s fault.’

  ‘Thank you, Lizzy. You take a weight off my mind.’

  After a light luncheon, Elizabeth again donned her outdoor clothes and set off for Rosings church, with Maria and Sir William by her side.

  It lay only a short distance from the parsonage, down a pretty country lane. It was a beautiful building in the Perpendicular style and it was looking particularly attractive as the churchyard was full of daffodils. Their yellow heads were bobbing in the breeze as she entered the graveyard through the lich gate and went up to the door of the church. It was already open and she wondered if the Rev Mr Pike had arrived. He would be needed, since Mr Collins had not recovered.