Page 112 of Pride, Prejudice & Wicked Pleasure

"'After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to her ladyship last night, she immediately, with her usual condescension, expressed what she felt on the occasion; when it became apparent, that on the score of some family objections on the part of my cousin, she would never give her consent to what she termed so disgraceful a match. I thought it my duty to give the speediest intelligence of this to my cousin, that she and her noble admirer may be aware of what they are about, and not run hastily into a marriage which has not been properly sanctioned.' Mr. Collins moreover adds, 'I am truly rejoiced that my cousin Lydia's sad business has been so well hushed up, and am only concerned that their living together before the marriage took place should be so generally known. I must not, however, neglect the duties of my station, or refrain from declaring my amazement at hearing that you received the young couple into your house as soon as they were married. It was an encouragement of vice; and had I been the rector of Longbourn, I should very strenuously have opposed it. You ought certainly to forgive them, as a Christian, but never to admit them in your sight, or allow their names to be mentioned in your hearing.' That is his notion of Christian forgiveness! The rest of his letter is only about his dear Charlotte's situation, and his expectation of a young olive-branch. But, Lizzy, you look as if you did not enjoy it. You are not going to be missish, I hope, and pretend to be affronted at an idle report. For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them in our turn?"

"Oh!" cried Lizzy, "I am excessively diverted. But it is so strange!"

"Yes—that is what makes it amusing. Had they fixed on any other man it would have been nothing; but his perfect indifference, and your pointed dislike, make it so delightfully absurd! Much as I abominate writing, I would not give up Mr. Collins's correspondence for any consideration. Nay, when I read a letter of his, I cannot help giving him the preference even over Wickham, much as I value the impudence and hypocrisy of my son-in-law. And pray, Lizzy, what said Lady Catherine about this report? Did she call to refuse her consent?"

To this question his daughter replied only with a laugh; and as it had been asked without the least suspicion, she was not distressed by his repeating it. Lizzy had never been more at a loss to make her feelings appear what they were not. It was necessary to laugh, when she would rather have cried. Her father had most cruelly mortified her, by what he said of Mr. Darcy's indifference, and she could do nothing but wonder at such a want of penetration, or fear that perhaps, instead of his seeing too little, she might have fancied too much.

Perhaps she ought to have been more forward, more assertive in her attempts to engage Mr. Darcy when he had been here. Then she might put to bed all questions regarding his sentiments. Where was the boldness that had led her to accept an education at Trenwith House, the brazenness with which she had seduced her mentor? Would that Elizabeth Bennet have recognized the more recent young woman who sat timid, introvert, barely able to meet his gaze? To be fair, Longbourn was a far cry from Trenwith House, and Mr. Darcy’s behaviour certainly did not encourage an affable response. Her demeanor only reflected the marked difference in his. And, in truth, she was a little intimidated by the largesse of his actions concerning Lydia. Add to that her shame for every ill word she had spoken to and of him, and dismay over her mother’s conduct, then it was little wonder that she should be inclined to reticence.

There was, too, the strength of her own hopes, which she could not fob off, try as she might to temper them by compiling all the evidence and reasons for how and why Mr. Darcy should not wish to renew his interest in her. She could not deny that, while his presence had been trying and vexatious, his absence was the harder to bear. She missed him in all ways—and all manner of intercourse. Her body still warmed to the memories of Trenwith House and the Lilac Cottage. She longed—nay, burned—for his touch. And the prospect that she might never again receive his caresses caused a miserable knot in her abdomen.

Though she had told herself that once his indifference was confirmed, she would not dwell upon him, she had also arrived at the belief that it was unlikely she would ever again know a man who could command as much respect and incite such passion in her as Mr. Darcy.

CHAPTER FIFTY

“I am quite disappointed to hear that you will be attending my benefit for Thomas Clarkson next Thursday. Whatever are you doing here in London?” Abby admonished Darcy as she took a seat opposite his writing table.

He laid down his pen to attend to his guest. “I would simply respond ‘on business,’ but I detect the tone of your question is reminiscent of an accusation.”

“Indeed, it is! And I will not concede that you are in London merely ‘on business.’”

“Now you accuse me of lying.”

“I am accusing you of a half-truth.”

Darcy took in a deep breath. There was only one other woman from whom he would have accepted such abuse. And though Abby had once more proved herself one of the most discerning individuals he knew, he was unwilling at present to accommodate her. He returned his gaze to the letter he was writing to Charles informing his friend that he would be in London longer than anticipated.

“And cowardice,” she added when she saw he would not budge.

He glanced up sharply. “You have arrived in London but less than a day and have made your first order of business my provocation?”

She tossed her golden hair. “As only a dear friend would!”

“You have a strange way of showing your friendship,” he murmured. “My enemies would be less inciting.”

“Your happiness is my motive.”

“Forgive me if I fail to see how attacks upon my integrity and manhood should make me happy.”

“Ah, Fitzwilliam! You abound in such noble qualities as I can only aspire to. But I know that if I felt the love that you do, I should not be hiding in London.”

A muscle tensed along his jaw. “Pray, what other complaints do you wish to hurl my way? Let me receive them all at once.”

“You would make a liar of me.”

He looked quizzical. “Forgive me. I had not done it intentionally.”

“You may yet save me from perpetrating a lie. Cease your stalling here in London and take yourself to her.”

Ignoring her last statement, he asked, “What lie?”

Abby pursed her lips. He could not tell if she were smug or abashed.

“My curricle happened to pass the carriage of your esteemed aunt the other day,” she said. “Having had news of Bingley’s engagement to Miss Bennet, I was certain yours would be upon the heel of his. I congratulated her on the pending nuptials. I confess it was devilish on my part. I simply could not resist meeting her sneer at me with happy tidings.”

He frowned. Lady Catherine would not have received such a jest in good humor.

“But you see how she will add the telling of falsehoods to her list of complaints against me.”