Page 74 of Dear Friend

“And Lady Catherine believes otherwise?”

“Very decidedly. Some months ago she pressed the matter beyond what I was prepared to tolerate, and I told her plainly that I had no intention of marrying Anne merely to satisfy an expectation formed without consulting either of us. My aunt did not receive the declaration with equanimity.”

“I cannot imagine that she did, if Mr. Collins's descriptions of her are even half accurate.” Elizabeth was quiet for a moment. “Is that why you have not seen her since?”

“For the most part. We correspond when necessity requires it, but I have not visited Rosings since our disagreement.” Darcy turned towards her again. “I would rather you knew the truth of the matter now than have you wonder at my silence when your cousin inevitably discovers the connection.”

Elizabeth considered him before inclining her head. “Then I am glad you have told me. Though I confess I am now considerably more curious about a lady who could arrange the marriage of two infants and remain surprised when one of them grows old enough to object.”

Darcy could not prevent a faint smile. “You would find the reality considerably less diverting than the idea. My aunt does not encourage opposition.”

“Then Mr. Collins must be the ideal clergyman for her. He has shown no inclination whatever to oppose anything she has ever said. Indeed, he speaks of her with such reverence that I have begun to wonder whether his sermons contain more references to Lady Catherine than to scripture.”

Darcy laughed, more freely than he ordinarily did, and was rewarded by the answering brightness of Elizabeth's expression. He had missed this. Several days without her company ought not to have mattered so much, yet sitting beside her again made the interval seem considerably longer than it had been.

Her expression grew more thoughtful. “It occurs to me, however, that Mr. Collins did not travel all the way from Kent merely to admire Longbourn and assure Mama that her furniture will not descend to him with the estate. I believe he means to marry one of us.”

Every trace of Darcy's amusement disappeared. Surely he had misunderstood her. He turned towards Elizabeth, searching her expression for some indication that she was merely amusing herself at his expense.

“Does he?”

He was faintly surprised by the evenness of his own voice. The idea of Collins entering Hertfordshire with the deliberate intention of selecting one of the Bennet daughters was disagreeable enough. The possibility that his selection might fall upon Elizabeth produced an emotion considerably less reasonable.

“Papa's estate is entailed upon him, and Mr. Collins has written at considerable length of his desire to make amends for the unfortunate circumstance. Apparently, he considers marrying one of Papa's daughters the most suitable means of accomplishing it.”

Darcy looked at her. “And has he already determined which of you is to receive this... amends?”

Elizabeth laughed. “You sound doubtful of his ability to decide so quickly.”

“It has been scarcely a day since his arrival. I should hope even Mr. Collins requires rather longer than that to determine whom he wishes to marry.”

“You give him too much credit. I suspect the identity of the lady is of rather less consequence to him than the suitability of the arrangement.” Elizabeth considered the matter. “He first appeared greatly struck by Jane, but Mama has already declared her quite beyond his reach on account of Mr. Bingley's attentions. He then showed rather more interest in me than I found comfortable, until Mama interfered there also.”

Darcy's hand tightened upon his knee.

Mr. Collins had been at Longbourn for scarcely a day and had already transferred his matrimonial interest from the eldest daughter to Elizabeth. Darcy knew the absurdity of resenting a man whose attentions Elizabeth plainly did not welcome, but knowledge did very little to improve his temper.

“She has now directed him towards Mary,” Elizabeth continued, apparently unaware of the precise affect her account was producing. “Mary is, according to Mama, the only daughter entirely unclaimed.”

“And upon what grounds did Mrs. Bennet consider you claimed?”

The question escaped more quickly than Darcy intended. His thoughts had gone at once to Mr. Sotherton, and the possibility that Mrs. Bennet might still favour the man's suit produced a degree of displeasure wholly disproportionate to the few seconds in which he entertained it.

Elizabeth turned her head towards him, her eyes bright with amusement. “Upon the strength of your attentions to me, I believe. You must learn to be more cautious, Mr. Darcy. Mama has built marriages upon considerably less encouragement.”

For a moment Darcy could only look at her.

He had known his preference was becoming apparent. Bingley certainly knew it, his sisters suspected it, and half the neighbourhood had likely formed opinions of its own after three dances at the assembly and his repeated visits to Longbourn. Yet hearing Elizabeth acknowledge his attentions herself, without embarrassment sufficient to make her deny or dismiss them, affected him far more strongly than any observation made by another could have done.

“Whether Mama truly believes those attentions signify what she wishes them to signify, or merely found them a convenient means of directing Mr. Collins elsewhere, I cannot say,” Elizabeth continued. “In either case, I am grateful for the result. Mary is less so. She has already announced that she means to refuse him should he offer for her.”

Darcy scarcely attended to the final observation.

Upon the strength of your attentions to me.

He had come to Oakham Mount that morning because he wanted to see Elizabeth. He had spent much of the walk considering whether the time had come to make his intentions plain, and had arrived no nearer a decision by the time he reached the summit. Now Elizabeth herself had placed the matter between them with an ease which made further hesitation feel very much like cowardice.

“Your mother is not mistaken,” he said.