Page 18 of Vain and Useless

Mr Darcy seemed a little embarrassed. “I confess, avoidance has been my usual method of dealing with that person. I dislike even to think of him. Yet at that moment, I felt I could not allow him to prey upon my friends here.”

“Such condescension!” Mr Collins exclaimed before anyone else could speak. “How very like your noble aunt!” He went on in this manner for some time, attributing every virtue to Lady Catherine and declaring that her nephew must possess them also. After a few minutes of this, Miss Bingley went to her brother and suggested that they ought to depart, for they had other visits to make. Though Elizabeth must regret the brevity of their visit, this had the happy effect of not only freeing Mr Darcy from Mr Collins’s attention all the sooner, but of freeing Mr Bingley from the chatter of Mrs Bennet and her youngest daughters. He wasted not a moment in seizing the opportunity to secure the first set of his ball with Jane.

Alas, this seemed to inspire Mr Collins, for hardly had the door shut behind the Netherfield party when he asked Elizabeth for the honour of her first. To decline would have forced her to sit out the entire evening, and so she made him happy and herself unhappy by her acceptance.

“Darcy.”

He turned with a start from gazing out the carriage window to find Bingley regarding him expectantly.

“Pardon me, I was not attending,” he said.

Bingley laughed. “That was apparent! I asked what had put such a frown upon your face.”

Darcy hesitated to reply, for he knew that his present concern was tightly wrapped in his admiration of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He answered largely because he believed that two of the three people in the carriage with him would also have her interests in mind. “When I was speaking with Mr Collins, he made a remark that implied he will soon be wed to Miss Elizabeth, though to my certain knowledge they met for the first time on Monday.”

Bingley and his younger sister were clearly appalled, while Mrs Hurst’s smirk told all that need be said of her opinion. And yet, she spoke. “He is the heir, as I understand it. He and her father must have arranged the match through correspondence, and now he is come to finalise the matter. Perhaps the engagement will be announced at your ball, Brother—how delightful that would be! Will you like having such a man for a brother, or will the association cause you to reconsider Miss Bennet’s charms?”

“Louisa, that is quite enough,” Bingley said sternly before addressing himself to Darcy. “I cannot imagine that Miss Elizabeth would accept him. She is far too clever to imagine she might be happy with such a dullard, even if it would be to her family’s benefit.”

“She may not have a choice,” Miss Bingley said with a troubled frown. “Though no one can compel her to speak her vows in the church if she will not do so, even though she has not yet attained her majority, she could be cast from her home for refusing. That would be a powerful inducement to comply, as it has been for many a lady before her, unless she is certain she has some other refuge available and the means to reach it.”

“She has an aunt and uncle in town with whom she is close, does she not?” Bingley asked. At his sister’s nod, he declared, “I would send her to them in my own coach, if need be.”

“They may not wish to defy Mr Bennet’s authority over her,” Miss Bingley pointed out, a difficulty Darcy had also considered. “And there would be talk of why a single gentleman chose to intervene, as well. No, Brother, that would not do. However, if it comes to that, I might give her fare for the post-coach and lend her my maid for propriety. To assist a lady in flight from a marriage her father arranged might earn me some disapproval in society if it became known, but it would not be ruinous as it would be for you.”

“First, I think we must understand whether there is an arrangement already in place,” Darcy said, buoyed by the knowledge that his friends, among whom he now could not do other than count Miss Bingley, agreed that such a match would be a travesty. “I will call upon Mr Bennet tomorrow. When last we met, he invited me to peruse his library, and that shall be my excuse. I will mention Mr Collins’s words and enquire as to the situation.”

“I do not see why you should trouble yourselves,” Mrs Hurst complained.

“Because she is my friend, and I would not see her tied to a buffoon,” Miss Bingley snapped, clearly past the end of her patience.

“And because she may soon be my sister,” added Bingley coolly. Darcy’s eyebrows rose; that was tantamount to a declaration. Bingley shrugged, smiling enigmatically. It would seem he had come to a decision, or much closer to one, in recent days.

“I should hate to see any young lady of sense tied to such a man,” Darcy said, “and even less if she would connect him to Bingley.”

Mrs Hurst eyed him dubiously but chose not to question his statement.

Darcy was to be thwarted in his purpose by a steady rain which began overnight and persisted until the evening before the ball. To ride or drive to Longbourn was impossible; indeed, it began to seem as if the ball would have to be rescheduled until they awoke on Tuesday to bright sunshine and rapidly-drying roads.

He had questioned Bingley on his intentions as they whiled away the rainy days and learnt that his friend had made the decision to propose to Miss Bennet. He acknowledged that they had been acquainted for only six weeks, but declared himself utterly certain of his course.

“When Miss Bennet stayed here, though I was concerned by her illness, I also felt…settled within myself, simply knowing she rested inside the walls of my home and was being tended by my servants, visited by the apothecary at my summons,” he had said. “It was as though I had fulfilled a purpose I had not understood was mine until then. It took me a little while afterwards to understand myself, but once I did, I knew that I had found the lady I wish to marry. Perhaps it sounds fanciful to you, but I cannot explain it any better than that.”

“It does not sound fanciful to me,” Darcy had replied. “There is a very great satisfaction to be had in taking care of those for whom one is responsible. I have experienced this particularly with my sister, and I imagine the pleasure would not be less with a wife, or a lady one hopes might assume that title.”

He allowed himself the indulgence of imagining Miss Elizabeth at Pemberley, of showing her its halls, its paths and gardens, and in the longing he felt to make those images real, he at last came to know that Bingley was not the only gentleman utterly lost to a daughter of Longbourn.

CHAPTER 15

Darcy and Bingley rode out on the day of the ball to call upon Mr Bennet. He was surprised to receive them, commenting that he would have thought Bingley would have a great deal to accomplish, as the host. Bingley only grinned and laughed and assured him that everything was in his sister’s capable hands, though he would have preferred to call a day or two ago, had not the rain prevented it. Having greeted the man, Darcy stepped out into the corridor to give Bingley privacy to request Mr Bennet’s blessing on his intention to propose whenever an opportune moment arose.

Above, there was the sound of movement, the creak of floorboards and the thump of a hastily-shut door, overlain with the murmur of voices and, once or twice, a shriek, muffled by the walls of the house. He remembered, dimly, his mother’s preparations for such events, which commenced hours before. He supposed that in such a household, with few servants and many ladies, it must take much of the day.

Bingley emerged minutes later, his silly grin telling the tale of his success. Darcy entered the study, where Mr Bennet peered at him over the top of his spectacles and said, “I do not expect that you have come to try to relieve me of one of my daughters.”

“Not exactly,” he allowed, and Mr Bennet’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline.

“I think you had better sit and explain yourself, Mr Darcy,” he replied, clearly intrigued.