Folly and Forgiveness Read online

  Mary nodded as she considered. “I do not enjoy singing as much as I do playing the pianoforte. Perhaps I should focus on playing first.”

  “That sounds wise, Mary.”

  Mr. Collins nodded sagely through their conversation, for once allowing them the luxury of conducting one without his input. He was obviously pleased that Mary and Lady Catherine got along so well. While Elizabeth was still surprised, she was pleased for them both as well.

  ~ ~ ~

  Darcy handed Thunder’s reins to a groom and gave the appropriate instructions. He could not admit to any joy in his arrival – who in his right mind would take any joy in Lady Catherine’s company – but at least the journey was finished. Colonel Fitzwilliam joined him, having already seen to his horse himself.

  “Ready to face the dragon?”

  Darcy knew he should defend his aunt, but he agreed with Fitzwilliam’s assessment too much to do so. Instead he nodded and joined his cousin as they walked to the house.

  Mentally prepared for a few weeks of misery, Darcy congratulated himself on at least sparing himself the pain of encountering Elizabeth again. He knew her sister had married his aunt’s absurd rector, and had heard from Bingley that Elizabeth would visit for Easter. Bingley likely would not have mentioned the trip, save for his pleasure that Elizabeth would be going instead of his own Miss Bennet. While Darcy regularly visited his aunt at Easter, he had allowed matters of business to delay him a few weeks. He could not inquire of anyone as to whether or not she had left without raising suspicions, but he hoped he had allowed enough time.

  Darcy’s efforts to erase Elizabeth from his mind had been an abject failure thus far. He feared that Bingley’s marriage to Miss Bennet would permanently install Elizabeth as a part of his social circle. He would simply have to ensure he avoided visiting Bingley when Elizabeth might be present.

  If he could avoid her long enough, Darcy was certain she would eventually leave his thoughts. She had to.

  “Darcy, are you even listening to me?”

  Darcy looked up at his cousin, doing his best to hide his embarrassment at being caught woolgathering.

  “I was unaware you had said anything worth listening to. Pray, was I mistaken?”

  Fitzwilliam laughed and they continued walking.

  “I simply asked if you were going to say anything to Aunt Catherine about Anne.”

  “I have said many things on many occasions. Whether or not I speak has little bearing if she refuses to listen. I have spoken to Anne privately to ensure she does not share her mother’s assumptions. I cannot control what Lady Catherine chooses to believe, so I no longer waste my words.”

  “How long do you think she will wait until she brings up the marriage?” he asked with laughter in his eyes. “I believe that last year was a new record at half an hour from first greeting her.”

  Darcy wanted to squirm, but kept his posture. “I do not know why you are so insistent upon noting the time each year.”

  “My own amusement of course,” his cousin replied with another hearty laugh as he slapped Darcy’s back. They entered Rosings and were announced into the drawing room.

  Eighteen minutes. That was how long it took Lady Catherine to mention some improvements she had recently made for her tenants that Darcy should be certain to leave in place after his marriage to Anne.

  Darcy refused to look at the clock, and in fact made a point of refusing to be seated anywhere that he would be facing a clock whenever he was at Rosings. Fitzwilliam, however, had seated himself in full view of the ancient timepiece. He looked to Darcy and grinned at the announcement, silently mouthing, “Eighteen minutes,” as soon as his back was to the rest of the company.

  Darcy said nothing. He saw nothing to be gained and had no interest in an argument. He seated himself out of view of the clock to prevent disappointment that time was not moving faster each time he checked it.

  Wait, what had his aunt said? For the first time in his memory, Darcy wished he had been paying closer attention to her words.

  “You say you have had company?” Fitzwilliam asked, seeing Darcy’s sudden interest, again smirking at his cousin for not listening.

  “Were you not listening to me? Mr. Collins, my new rector, and his new wife join us quite regularly. Right now, Mrs. Collins’ sister is visiting, so the three of them have come for dinner. Naturally, we will not need them now that you are here. The sister has some very decided opinions for one her age. I admire a woman who is unafraid to speak her mind, far too many girls sit silently with nothing to say for themselves, but this girl borders on impertinence far too often for my taste.”

  Mentally, Darcy slumped back in his seat. He was too well-bred to actually slouch or allow any of his emotions to become apparent in such a way, but he wanted to. How had he managed to change his travel plans only to coincide with Elizabeth’s visit? Bingley may have been wrong about the date, or Darcy misinterpreted his dreadful penmanship, but he could not have been wrong about which sister would travel. Lady Catherine’s description could only be of Elizabeth.

  This visit may well seem the longest of his many visits to Rosings.

  CHAPTER 21

  Colonel Fitzwilliam insisted upon calling at the parsonage. Darcy knew the man was eager to visit with anyone who could provide a respite from their aunt. Once he met Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam would surely be a frequent visitor there.

  Darcy had fully intended upon avoiding such a call, or at least delaying until he could be certain Elizabeth was not at home. He would not be able to entirely avoid her during his stay, but if he could minimize the contact he was certain he would be able to continue with his plan of forgetting her. Therefore, Darcy was just as surprised as Colonel Fitzwilliam to hear himself announce that he would join the colonel to pay the visit.

  Elizabeth was just as beautiful as he had remembered. She curtsied quickly, eyes down, before returning to her seat and picking up her needlework again.

  She still disliked him. He had hoped that she might think better of him after saving her from Wickham, but that was not enough. She could not even look at him.

  Darcy’s spirits sank. Whatever he had hoped for in calling upon her, it certainly was not to be ignored. He would have preferred one of her pert responses over her silence. He walked to the window and looked out at the gardens while he gathered his thoughts and made sure he could keep his composure.

  He would keep his disappointment to himself. Really, her refusal to even look in his direction should make her easier to forget once they were no longer in one another’s company. Elizabeth was helping him to continue the path he had already chosen, so he should have no regrets. He did not need to even speak to her beyond the standard pleasantries.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam naturally chose a seat near Elizabeth after introductions were made. While Elizabeth was quieter than was her usual wont, eventually she warmed to Fitzwilliam and began conversing in earnest.

  Darcy stared out at the gardens. Naturally she would warm to the conversation of his cousin. He could listen to the two from where he stood. When her light laugh reached his ears, he could take no more.

  Turning, he approached. He must speak to her.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” he began, with a slight bow. “I hope your family is quite well.”

  “Quite well indeed, I thank you,” she replied, dropping her eyes again to her lap.

  He had hoped that she might lead the conversation so they might continue, but she stayed silent. Fitzwilliam was no help either, looking up at Darcy from his seat with a curious glance.

  “Had you the pleasure of seeing Mr. Bingley and his sisters recently?” He could think of no other topic on which to continue.

  “Yes, just prior to my leaving he called with his sisters. Mr. Bingley visits more often than his sisters. I fear Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst take little pleasure in our company. All were very well when I left. Had we known I would meet you here I am certain they would have sent their greetings as well.”

 
“No doubt,” replied Darcy, desperately searching for some subject on which to continue when silence descended once again. “You have visited at a lovely time. The weather is most pleasant at this time of year.”

  The weather? Could he say nothing of greater interest. Darcy refused to look at his cousin, certain the man was doing his best not to laugh at him.

  “It is indeed a lovely time of year,” Elizabeth replied with a smile and quick glance up at Darcy. “I have enjoyed watching the last of the flowers come into bloom. My sister is learning much about the flowers not native to Hertfordshire.” She looked up again with a shy smile. “Lady Catherine has been most helpful in educating Mary how to tend her garden.”

  “My aunt enjoys nothing so much as providing instruction,” Colonel Fitzwilliam interjected and Elizabeth looked to him. Darcy wanted to kick the man. He had finally gotten Elizabeth to look at him for more than a second and his cousin had to interrupt.

  “I did indeed get that impression, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth replied with a more certain smile. “And Lady Catherine seems most generous in its distribution.”

  Fitzwilliam laughed, “Aunt Catherine has an abundance of instruction to provide, but rarely anyone grateful to receive it. I begin to understand why she is so fond of Mrs. Collins.”

  “Really?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Oh, yes. She has spoken more fondly of your sister than of anyone else I can remember, save her own daughter. I do not recollect having heard more than a few words of criticism spoken regarding Mrs. Collins, which is far better than the rest of us have ever fared.”

  Elizabeth smiled again, even more brightly this time. It was the smile Darcy remembered seeing before her mother’s death, and it bothered him that Fitzwilliam should be its recipient. Too long had he been without her smiles to enjoy seeing one wasted on an interloper when he had been trying to converse with her.

  Darcy stepped back and allowed them to continue speaking to one another as he watched and listened. Despite his disappointment, he was pleased to see Elizabeth happier than the last time they had been together. If his withdrawal from the conversation would facilitate her happiness, then he would retreat.

  ~ ~ ~

  Elizabeth walked down the stairs, eager to start her morning with a walk through the gardens. She stepped lightly, as was her habit, aware she was usually the first to wake in the morning and eager to avoid disturbing anyone else.

  As she turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs, she was shocked to see her sister and Mr. Collins standing close together in the hallway. Mr. Collins stroked Mary’s cheek. Mary clasped his hand with her own and he leaned in to kiss her forehead. Elizabeth quickly stepped back and retreated a few steps up the stairs. She would not intrude on such a moment, surprising as it was.

  Elizabeth had known her sister was happy, but had not realized she was truly in love. Even more shocking, Elizabeth had not thought Mr. Collins capable of the type of tenderness and affection she had just witnessed. The pompous man who had proposed to her had seemed unaware of what love even was. If he was unaware at the time, he had since learned with Mary.

  Elizabeth lifted a hand to cover her grin and waited a few more moments. She had misjudged the man. Her smile faltered. She had misjudged many men of late. Were any of her judgments valid? Mayhap she needed to reassess everyone she knew in light of her new understanding. She had thought Mr. Collins an easy man to assess, but there was obviously more to him that Mary had seen and Elizabeth had not. Had she been blind in her viewing of everyone? Lady Catherine had been exactly what Elizabeth had expected, save her gentleness – comparatively at least – for Mary. Mayhap Mary brought out the best in people.

  Elizabeth had never seen anything extraordinary in Mary, either. Had she missed so much in those around her? She could be excused for some of her misunderstanding of Mr. Collins or Lady Catherine, she had limited acquaintance with the two and could not possibly know all there was about either of them. With her own sister, she had no such excuse. Truly, there was something remarkable about Mary if she could bring about such improvement in two people in whom Elizabeth had found nothing of value. Elizabeth had seen Mary as little other than a younger sister, but was gaining respect for the woman she was discovering in Mary.

  She would dwell on her own blindness later. Right now, she would be happy that her sister had found a place where she could be appreciated as she deserved. With louder footsteps, Elizabeth slowly took the last few stairs and let out a gentle cough before turning the corner into the hallway.

  Elizabeth made her way through the empty hallway and found Mary near the kitchen.

  “Good morning, Mary. You are up early.”

  “I tend to wake earlier here than I did at Longbourn. Are you heading out to walk the gardens?”

  “I thought I would enjoy the morning air.”

  “Excellent. Mr. Collins just left to offer condolences and visit with a man who lost his wife in childbirth. We received the news this morning and Mr. Collins thought to head out early. I will go by later this morning or early afternoon to take some bread and stew and see what help I can offer with the children.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “If you would like to join me this afternoon, I am sure you could assist with the children. There are two girls of four and six and a boy just a year old. You are always so good with children, I am certain they would enjoy someone to play with and distract them.”

  “Then I will offer what help I can. You seem to have learned your role as the wife of a clergyman quite well already.”

  Mary blushed. “The people have been so kind and welcoming. I do what I can for those in need. I must confess I detest visiting those in mourning. I do not know what to say and feel so useless in the face of their pain. I am not blessed with the ability to offer comforting words, so I see to the practicalities and take food and help with the children.”

  Elizabeth hugged her sister. “My little sister has grown up. I hardly recognize you Mary. I am pleased that you have found your place here.”

  Mary smiled and blushed some more. “I have. I am happy here and have purpose. I can ask for nothing more.”

  Elizabeth promised to return in time to join Mary later, then left the parsonage to enjoy the day.

  The changes in Mary were both surprising and humbling to witness. How strange, Elizabeth reflected, that she should find herself less and less sure of herself. Elizabeth had been certain she would feel more confident as she grew older and wiser. Instead she felt a reversal of sorts. Perhaps she was wiser now for recognizing the ignorance that fueled her previous confidence. She could not change the past, but Elizabeth vowed she would do better in future. She would seek better understanding before passing judgment on others. At least she would try, she thought with a rueful smile. Some habits were hard to break, but she would endeavor to do better.

  Elizabeth enjoyed the birdsong as she walked the paths. She much preferred the less tended areas nearer the parsonage to the formal gardens closer to Rosings.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” called a familiar voice, “Good morrow to you.”

  Elizabeth turned and curtseyed. “Good morning Mr. Darcy.”

  “I see you are enjoying the paths. May I join you? I am taking a tour of the Park as I usually do each year.”

  Elizabeth nodded her assent. She could not think of a gracious way to excuse herself from his company. She was still stricken with acute embarrassment whenever they met. He must think her an absolute fool for having believed Wickham, no matter how kind he may have been that day when he walked her home. She could not be easy in company with someone who had witnessed her experience such complete humiliation.

  Why he seemed so eager to speak to her whenever they met she could not understand. She would have far preferred he went back to silently watching her from across the room. However, Elizabeth at least owed him basic courtesy, so she would walk with him.

  They walked in silence for a while, Elizabeth unable to speak
from her intense mortification in his presence. As Mr. Darcy rarely had much to say, the conversation typically fell to others. At least it did if any were available whom he deemed speaking worthwhile.

  She had watched him visit the parsonage with his cousin, only to ignore Mary’s efforts to put him at ease. She could not blame Mr. Darcy for avoiding Mr. Collins, but she did not understand why he would not speak to her sister when Mary attempted to engage him in conversation. Mary was so new at playing hostess that she had assumed she was doing something wrong to be so snubbed. His behavior was really no different from when he had called at Longbourn with Mr. Bingley, only to stand by the window in silence for the entire visit.

  He would not be silent the entire time. He would speak to Jane and Mr. Bingley. If they were too engaged with each other, Mr. Darcy could not be bothered to speak with anyone else.

  Unfortunately, that left the burden of conversation on Elizabeth, despite her discomfort in speaking to him. She decided she had better exert herself somewhat so she did not give offense.

  “Do you often visit Rosings?”

  “I make it a point to visit every year, usually at Easter, to pay my respects to my aunt and look over her estate management. She had a good steward for many years, but he passed a few years back. Her new steward is not so careful as the last, so I prefer to review things when I come.”

  “What a happy excuse to absent yourself from the house,” Elizabeth replied, then blushed as she considered the criticism he likely heard in her words. She hastily continued, “I did not mean that you should be looking to absent yourself.”

  Darcy laughed softly, surprising her. “Do not be uneasy. Anyone who has spent more than a quarter hour in Lady Catherine’s company would understand how difficult a longer visit may be. Yes, it is a happy excuse to absent myself, but a necessary one as well. I would not see Lady Catherine’s tenants unwell due to lack of care on the part of her steward.”