Chapter 4 of our Christmas frolic has arrived. If you missed the previous entries, you can start here.

Chapter 4

 

If not for Mr. Darcy and his charming sister, Elizabeth might have given in to temptation and wrapped her hands around Mr. Collins’s neck to choke some sense into the dolt. As it was, she limited herself to committing the act in her imagination and picturing her satisfaction at the sight of his crimson face and bulging eyes as he fought for breath.

Instinctively, she knew that trying to force intelligence into his thick skull was a foolish endeavor. The mental image of him clutching his fantasy in defiance of the proof until the very end brought a level of peace missing so far from the day.

Miss Bingley enjoyed his performance immensely, and Elizabeth wondered if it might be possible to interest him in the woman. The woman’s smugness increased every time the man intruded on her conversations, and she thought she saw Miss Bingley engaged in a discussion which seemed to involve her, as her finger was directed toward her.

Mrs. Bennet was no help in this battle of wills, and Elizabeth wondered how she brought the parson back to Longbourn. His angry departure when she rejected his first unwanted proposal had been the best day of his entire two-week visit, and she recalled his parting words perfectly.

“Your refusal of my wedding offer is unfortunate, Miss Elizabeth,” said he and an expression of both smugness and self-satisfaction settled upon his plump face. “You will come to mourn what might have been, but too late, when your dismal future is already set in stone.”

She could not bother with a reply, content to offer instead the smallest of smiles as she busied herself ignoring the man.

His head poking through the curtained windows of his carriage reminded her of prisoners in the stocks, forced to stand as a public spectacle and submit to the rotten fruit and eggs thrown at them. If such a blessed event ever took place in Meryton, she would beg the magistrate for the privilege of throwing the first and possibly the second and then the third rancid apple.

“It pains me to impress upon you the consequences of your decision,” said he, licking his lips in a way that reminded her of pigs at the trough. “Your rejection condemns you to a life alone, unloved, and unwanted. And do not expect to be welcome at Longbourn when your worthy father passes. I doubt any wife of mine is going to accept your residence in our marital home.”

Would he never finish and leave? How many times did he intend to remind her of the grave mistake she made and the existence he expected her to suffer because she would not let him and her mother to force this ridiculous marriage upon her?

His judgment complete, Mr. Collins stared at her for an inordinate amount of time, as though staying for her to plead for his forgiveness. Elizabeth, however, was happy watching for the pompous fool to take her silence as confirmation.

His departure, when it finally happened, sweetened the rest of her day and the entire week.

So what had her mother done to bring him back, but this time with the firm conviction of their imminent union? And why did he refuse to acknowledge Elizabeth’s repeated assertions of the ridiculousness of his assumptions?

The only explanation that came to mind was that her parent was interfering in the matter. Of course, if Mrs. Bennet was responsible for his sudden reappearance, as Elizabeth suspected, she would feed his delusions with assurances of her eventual surrender.

What her mother did not realize was that she would gladly welcome the life of a spinster over marriage to someone as loathsome as Mr. Collins.

She watched her mother flitting about the room, her injudicious comments a continual source of embarrassment.

When she was not going on about the beauty of the season and her good fortune at having two of Hertfordshire’s most eligible bachelors in her home, she was hinting at the joyous news she expected to announce on Christmas Day.

Finally, having listened to as much nonsense as possible without throwing a fit in front of everyone, Elizabeth caught the woman’s attention and pulled her into the hall.

“Mama,” she whispered in irritation, “please mind your tongue, before reports about my upcoming marriage to Mr. Collins spread in Meryton and beyond.”

Mrs. Bennet tipped her head up to regard her, but she apparently chose to ignore the sparks flashing in her daughter’s eyes or the smoke Elizabeth was sure must come from her ears.

“Rumors? I would not call them that,” replied she with a glance toward Mr. Collins, preening at the attention he garnered. Of course, the simpleton did not realize the expressions of fear and consternation worn by everyone but Miss Bingley, who seemed to find joy in watching, and Mrs. Hurst, who appeared as though she did not care one whit.

“Have you thought about your life in this house if I am forced to wed him? I can assure you, Mama, that it would not be as pleasant as you seem to assume.”

Her words fell on deaf ears, as her mother chose to pay more attention to the buffoon making a fool of himself than Elizabeth’s warning.

 

***

 

“Thank you, Darcy, for yesterday’s entertainment,” said Fitzwilliam at the breakfast table the following day. “And to think I considered returning to London as soon as I delivered Georgiana? Last night was the most fun I can remember having in months.”

“I am glad you were able to amuse yourself,” countered he with a rueful grin. “I would have been mortified to see you bored or uncomfortable.”

Fitzwilliam laughed as he spread preserves on a warm scone. “Boredom was not in attendance at that delightful gathering. The only problem I struggled with was in hiding the tears that arose from watching the battle of wills that seemed to go on between Mrs. Bennet and Miss Elizabeth.”

Darcy nodded at the memory of seeing them step out of the room briefly and of Mr. Collins taking the opportunity to all but announce their engagement.

She did not seem pleased at the excessive attention Collins paid her whenever he was not engaged in extolling her virtues or proclaiming the happiness he looked forward to experiencing on Christmas Day.

“But the most entertaining part of the evening was watching Lady Catherine’s parson doing what he could to embarrass himself,” said Fitzwilliam, only partially smothering the accompanying laugh in deference to Darcy’s clear displeasure over his description of last night’s buffoonery by that ridiculous parson.

“I cannot recall ever meeting a bigger fool,” growled Darcy, the thought of a man so bereft of manners marrying a girl like Miss Elizabeth a pain in the pit of his stomach.

“That will never happen,” said Georgiana, until then content to eat in silence. “She told me as much last night.”

Darcy stared at his sister as her declaration ran through his mind. What did she mean? Had Miss Elizabeth publicly refused the man despite his unabashed expressions of confidence in the inevitability of their forthcoming nuptials?

And what if she had? From what he could gather, Mrs. Bennet was firmly in favor of the arrangement and was busy planning the wedding ceremony and the breakfast that would follow. Although Darcy did not recall hearing her father voice his approval, it must exist – after all, without his permission, how could she plan for such things as the reading of the banns?

Then there were the minor details of arranging for their parson to conduct the ceremony and ordering food for the wedding breakfast. If Mr. Bennet did not agree, then who would pay the merchants?

“What do you mean, she told you as much?” asked Darcy, determined to either set her to rights or put his plans into motion at once.

Georgiana placed a slice of apple into her mouth and chewed it slowly, a maddening practice she liked to use whenever she knew he wanted a quick answer. The smile she adopted while chewing clearly showed the fun she was having at his expense.

“Were you planning to explain,” said he, “or is speculation all you have to add to the conversation?”

“Patience, Fitzwilliam,” responded she, “is a virtue according to the Kympton parson.”

“He is not presently here, but I am, and so is the colonel, so prove your claim or stay out of the discussion.”

A stab of guilt hit Darcy at his temporary loss of temper, but her information could have a significant effect on how he proceeded in carrying out his scheme to rescue Miss Elizabeth. Fortunately, Georgiana did not seem to take offence, as her eyes dropped only briefly at his scolding before they rose again to stare at him, her smile growing.

“Mr. Collins gave us a chance to talk privately, although I am positive it was not a conscious choice,” she said with an amused chuckle.

“I asked after her thoughts regarding a marriage with Mr. Collins,” continued Georgiana, “and at first, she laughed at the folly of my comment, or so I assumed. But then she told me she would rather die alone than marry a man she does not respect and could never love. I think that proves, without a shred of doubt, that she will not wed him, no matter what anyone believes.”

“Mrs. Bennet seemed confident that the marriage was inevitable,” said Darcy, recalling the less than subtle allusions Mrs. Bennet made to an announcement she expected in the next few days. Of course, Miss Elizabeth’s obvious anger with her mother contradicted those claims, but the woman did not seem interested in whether her daughter wanted anything to do with such a fellow or not.

Darcy had to shake his head at the absurdity of Miss Elizabeth agreeing to marry Mr. Collins. He was obviously so far beneath her in personality, intelligence, and everything else a person might compare between the two that the mere thought of a union was laughable.

“Miss Elizabeth told me his presence nauseates her,” said Georgiana. She leaned forward and, as if informing fellow conspirators, whispered, “she said he turns her stomach, and she cannot stand to be in his company.”

She sat back and folded her arms, giving Darcy a triumphant look, as if she knew that her revelation justified his plan to win Miss Elizabeth’s hand for his own.

“But how can we keep Mr. Collins from making a fool of her – and her mother from forcing her to marry that oaf?” wondered he, unintentionally aloud.

“Are you interested in her?” said Fitzwilliam in a teasing manner, although Darcy knew he did not pose the question in jest.

“I cannot understand her marrying that man,” confessed he. “Of course, I cannot think how anyone could be foolish or desperate enough to agree to spend their life with him.”

“What are you prepared to do about it, then?” asked his cousin, a devilish, scheming gleam in his eyes. “And what part did you have planned for me?”

He met Fitzwilliam’s playful taunt with a mischievous grin. “I need you to occupy him so I can have some time with Miss Elizabeth.”

Fitzwilliam shook his head while the corners of his mouth turned down in the scowl Darcy knew so well. “Is that wise? She is all but engaged to Lady Catherine’s illustrious parson. Are you ready to face her wrath if you interfere with this match, which the good man seems to think is made in heaven?”

“Illustrious?” asked Darcy. “We are talking about the same person, I presume, or was there another parson at the Bennet home?”

Fitzwilliam glanced at Georgiana and winked. She responded with a spate of giggles, which increased until she locked her hand over her mouth to stop the noise.

“I will do what I can,” said the colonel with a chuckle, “but if I may be so bold, why not let the man ruin his own chances of marrying Miss Elizabeth? From what I saw, she was ready to have him run off the property and barred from ever returning. She is a strong woman and likely cannot suffer the fool much longer.”

Darcy shook his head. “Why put her through that humiliation when a few well-placed hints and suggestions might better serve the purpose? And why take the chance that the rumors, which are sure to start, force her into a marriage that keeps her miserable forever?”

“Well,” said his cousin, springing to his feet and beckoning for Darcy to rise, “what are you waiting for? Mr. Collins will not do the work for us.”

“Unfortunately, no,” said Darcy, following him at a more sedate pace.

 

***

 

“Welcome, Mr. Darcy,” said Collins, hurrying to greet the men and Miss Darcy, as if he viewed himself as the master of Longbourn, although Mr. Bennet still clung to life, as far as Elizabeth remembered.

“Come in and make yourselves comfortable,” said he, bustling about officiously. “I will have the servants bring in additional chairs to accommodate everyone and talk to Mr. Hill about seeing to his duties in a more efficient manner.”

“I think that is my father’s responsibility, Mr. Collins, not yours,” said Elizabeth, holding on to her temper by the thinnest of threads.

The day was barely begun, yet the man had ascended to a new level of insufferable. If not for Mr. Darcy’s arrival, with his charming cousin and delightful sister, she would have given serious consideration to going up to her apartment and locking herself inside until tomorrow.

“Of course,” replied he with a great bow, “I am just doing my part to make our guests comfortable.”

Elizabeth caught the sound of a snort of laughter from behind the man and looked to see Mr. Darcy nudge his sister with an elbow.

Miss Darcy obediently clamped her lips together, but Elizabeth saw the giggles struggling to escape as the effort turned the girl’s face a bright shade of crimson. A quick smile and nod of her head sent her new friend to sit on the bench under the window, where Elizabeth joined her.

“Forgive me, but I could not help myself,” said she, one last giggle escaping her when they were seated. “I know it is impolite but watching him bow to you was too funny to ignore. We are not in the presence of royalty unless my brother forgot to tell me. If he had bent any lower, his nose would have rested on the floor.”

“He can be amusing to watch,” agreed she, “when he is not doing his utmost to annoy me, which seems to keep him busy every waking hour.”

Elizabeth smiled and lifted her eyes to survey the room. With Mr. Collins loose and unattended, she needed to pay attention. If left alone, he might destroy any vestiges of her composure that remained.

She saw Mrs. Bennet fussing around Jane and Mr. Bingley, which was no surprise; that would have come if her mother was not fluttering about the man.

To her amusement, Mr. Darcy’s cousin had caught Mr. Collins’s interest. He sat in rapt attention, listening to the colonel regaled him with tales of his time fighting on the continent.

The colonel sent her a smile, but he did not pause in his narration, and Elizabeth made a note to thank him for coming with Mr. Darcy today. He would not understand why she expressed such gratitude, but she needed to let him know she valued his company.

“Your cousin is a unique individual,” said Miss Darcy, bringing Elizabeth’s awareness back, “and I do not mean that as a compliment.”

She giggled, and Elizabeth joined her, keeping her laughter quiet, so as not to attract anyone’s attention, especially Mr. Collins. The less she had to do with him, the better her grip on sanity.

“Fitzwilliam is not impressed with the man,” said Miss Darcy, “but he is too polite to show his opinion. That is just one of the traits people in Derbyshire compliment him on. As a brother, he is kind and I love that about him.”

“Commendable qualities that Miss Elizabeth also possesses in abundance,” said Mr. Collins, having approached unnoticed.

She shuddered at the sound of his voice and saw Miss Darcy doing the same. Something about this man encouraged revulsion, and her friend’s identical reaction meant the distaste was not limited to her.

“I am no better than anyone and not as good as Mr. Darcy, apparently,” said she, stealing a glance at Colonel Fitzwilliam, who, to her surprise, shrugged his shoulders. The gesture’s meaning escaped her.

“Nonsense,” argued Mr. Collins, “You are too modest, Miss Elizabeth, which further warms my heart. Lady Catherine has counseled me repeatedly about finding a gentlewoman with attributes like yours. I am sure her approval will be swift and enthusiastic.”

“You have not ‘found’ me, Mr. Collins,” said Elizabeth, the temptation to fasten her hands about his neck growing. She had to go before they acted without her permission.

“Miss Elizabeth does not appear to need finding,” offered Mr. Darcy, his polite statement the soothing balm she needed.

“I hope I am not intruding,” said he. “We have not talked yet today, and I did not want to leave with that regret.”

Mr. Darcy acknowledged her tormenter with a brief nod and then faced her again. “And I thought you might need rescuing from Georgiana,” said he, gracing his sister with a devilish grin.

“I was not bothering Miss Elizabeth,” insisted the girl, stamping her foot on the floor. “We were trying to become better acquainted, but someone interrupted us.” She sent a pointed glare in Mr. Collins’s direction, but Mr. Darcy ignored her mild censure of the uninvited parson.

“I did not have the chance to finish last night’s story of my military service,” said the colonel, taking Mr. Collins by the arm and leading him to the opposite side of the room. The man thankfully did not resist, and Elizabeth let a sigh of relief escape as she watched them leave.

“Miss Darcy is no bother,” said she, recalling Mr. Darcy’s last comment before her rescue. “She is a delight to talk with. Your sister is always polite and well-informed about anything we have discussed. Her governess should be commended.”

“I will follow your sage advice as soon as we get back to Pemberley,” promised he, “and I thank you for your kindness to her. Many, usually of the female persuasion, view her as an inconvenience and do not try to make her welcome unless we are together. You welcomed her immediately and undertook to treat her with respect and affection. Miss Elizabeth, you are a remarkable person.”

“Mr. Darcy,” came the whining voice of Miss Bingley, “it appears as though your beautiful sister is tiring. Do you not feel it is time she returned to Netherfield? Her journey from London this morning must have been exhausting.”

The woman then turned to Miss Darcy and, taking a hand, placed it on her arm. “Come, Georgiana, and let me help you dress. It is cool outside, and we cannot have you catching a cold, can we?”

“If she were tired and wanted to leave,” Mr. Darcy stated, stopping Miss Bingley in her tracks, “then she would tell me. As she has not done so yet, I will allow her to remain.”

Miss Bingley dropped the arm and gave a short curtsey. “As you wish, Mr. Darcy. I was only trying to protect your precious sister from illness.”

Without a glance back, she left the group, one more person whom Elizabeth was glad to be rid of, even if only temporarily.

 

***

 

“Thank you for pulling him away from my niece,” said Mrs. Gardiner to Colonel Fitzwilliam when he extricated himself from Mr. Collins. “If his manners were not so odious, she might enjoy visiting with everyone.”

“She seems to love talking with Darcy,” said he, tipping his head toward the group, now three in number, with Miss Bingley’s departure.

“It is clear she does not mind his attention,” was her reply. “Forgive my observation, but her manner suggests she prefers it above anyone’s, tonight at least.”

The colonel watched Elizabeth’s lively conversation for half a minute and then brought his eyes back to Mrs. Gardiner, but with a sly grin upon his face.

“I do not know if Darcy would approve,” said he, “but I am going to tell you anyway and hope he is not too upset with me.”

“Tell me what?” replied she, traces of a smile emerging as she waited.

The expression did not escape the colonel’s notice, and he returned hers with an expanded one of his own.

“Darcy wants a more personal relationship with Miss Elizabeth,” replied he quietly, stepping closer as if to afford a measure of privacy. “He cannot understand why she would wed someone as unsuitable as Mr. Collins and is trying to show her he is interested. Unfortunately, with Mr. Collins hovering about, his task is more difficult.”

Mrs. Gardiner looked directly in his eye. “May I help? Lizzy cannot marry that man, and I have been looking for a way to interfere.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam’s smile became a wicked grin, and he leaned closer to share the plans with her.

“That sounds like it might work,” said she when they separated. “Just let me know what you need, and I will do my best.”

“I think we should leave,” said Mr. Darcy, approaching the scheming pair with Elizabeth and Miss Darcy in tow. “Georgiana is tired, although she refuses to admit that, and tomorrow is a busy day.”

“The Christmas assembly is tomorrow,” said Elizabeth as the guests donned their coats. “Are you able to attend with Miss Darcy? This will be a more enjoyable event than your last,” said she with a sly glance toward Mr. Darcy. Mrs. Gardiner suspected some private joke between the two, but now was not the time to demand an explanation.

“May we, Fitzwilliam?” asked the girl, shivering with excitement. “It sounds like so much fun.”

“Yes, we may,” said he with a laugh. “I would not dream of saying no to such a polite request.”

“Thank you, thank you,” said she, throwing her arm around his neck in exuberance, only to step away in apparent embarrassment at her display.

“You are a kind brother, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth as he passed through the exit, which prompted him to stop and offer a farewell wave.

“He is a splendid gentleman,” Mrs. Gardiner heard her husband say to Mr. Bennet as the door closed, “who would make a lovely partner for Lizzy, don’t you think?”

Mr. Bennet nodded and moved a foot toward the library. “He would—and a loving companion as well.”

“Then should you not speak with your cousin about his behavior? He made her miserable and embarrassed all of us.”

Mrs. Gardiner watched her brother-in-law stop and regard her husband with an amused smile. “I am rather enjoying the sight of him considered a fool. This is the best time I have had this month and possibly all of November.”

“But what about your daughter? If you are not careful, she will end up marrying the dolt, and then what? Are you willing to sacrifice her happiness for temporary amusement?”

Mrs. Gardiner edged closer, curious about the response and determined to enter the conversation if necessary. She would not allow her niece to be ruined by that man.

“Calm yourself, Edwin,” she heard Mr. Bennet reply. “I promise you; Elizabeth will never marry that fool. That is a fate I cannot wish on anyone, especially Lizzy.”

 

***

 

“May I speak with you?” said Mr. Collins, a tone of reprimand in his voice.

“I am on my way to bed,” said she, unwilling to endure another minute with him.

“It is vital that we discuss your conduct tonight,” said he, stepping in front of her to block her from climbing the stairs to her room and to freedom from the torture of his company.

“As an engaged woman,” began he, and Elizabeth drew in her breath, prepared to censure him severely with her words. How dare he question her behavior when his mere presence had been a blight on the gathering?

From the corner of her eye, she saw her aunt and uncle hurry from the library entrance to her side, the concern on their faces a worry for her. What was wrong? Mrs. Gardiner looked angry, and he seemed almost as upset.

She tried to prepare herself, but ignorance of the problem prevented anything more than patience and dread.

“Were Colonel Fitzwilliam’s stories not entertaining?” said Mr. Gardiner, placing his hand on Mr. Collins’s back and gently propelling him toward the sitting-room. “I thought I would die laughing at his description of conditions in France. No melons for breakfast other than the occasional lemon? How did they survive?”

His voice faded as they entered the room, leaving Elizabeth alone with her aunt.

“Go to bed,” suggested she, “before you lose the chance.”

“Thank you,” said Elizabeth, climbing the stairs without a glance to where Mr. Gardiner’s comment seemed to have captured Mr. Collins’s attention according to the replies she could hear.

Elizabeth hurried into her bedroom, closing and locking the door behind her. If that man wanted to berate her, he would have to wait until morning. Even then, Elizabeth was not sure she would allow him to say anything.