If the colonel was confused before the journey, he was completely perplexed once he arrived in Kent. Before they had even paid their respects to their Aunt Catherine, Darcy insisted they stop at Hunsford Lodge, the parsonage of the Reverend Mr. and Mrs. Collins. On their last visit, Darcy, who had little appetite for sermonizing, had found his aunt’s new vicar to be more tedious than the previous parson. But here he was paying a visit to the very man he had accused of inducing a coma-like state in his congregants. Furthermore, during the visit, Darcy had said almost nothing, leaving the colonel to bear the full weight of conversing with the Collinses. But things became much clearer when the lovely Miss Elizabeth Bennet joined the party.
On the journey to Kent, Darcy had spoken to Fitzwilliam of a charming, intelligent, and beautiful young woman, the daughter of a gentleman farmer, whom he had met while visiting with Charles Bingley at Netherfield Park. Although all of his compliments were buried in lengthy generalities involving life in the country and society in a market town, the conversation always returned to this unnamed young lady. But Fitzwilliam had no doubt that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was the gem Darcy had discovered in Hertfordshire.
Fitzwilliam found the whole scene to be amusing. As the scion of one of England’s ancient Norman families, Darcy was well aware of his pedigree. He understood that any lady he chose as his wife would have to be from another Norman family or a daughter of the aristocracy, but even among those who met his criteria, no one had caught his fancy. If the woman was beautiful, she was not intelligent. If she was accomplished and well versed in current affairs, she was not attractive. The daughter of a baronet was rich and attractive, and possessed a truly pleasant personality, as well as a diamond-encrusted neck, but to Darcy she was “dimwitted.” This is what made the scene before him so delicious. Darcy was smitten with the daughter of a no-name gentleman farmer from a country town. Of course, knowing his cousin as well as he did, nothing could come of it, but there was something very appealing in learning that Darcy had a vulnerable side that the colonel had never seen before. This visit might actually turn out to be a nice diversion.
Now in her late fifties, Lady Catherine de Bourgh found it difficult to stay awake after dinner. Fearing she might miss some juicy tidbit about what was going on in London or in the nearby village, she sat dozing, night after night, with her unsupported head bobbing between her ample bosom and the back of the chair. It was only after she had stopped snorting and had advanced to full-blown snoring that her lady’s maid, the saintly Mrs. Pentup, was able to convince Her Ladyship that no one would object if she retired for the evening.
As soon as she was sure that her mother was truly gone, Anne de Bourgh let out a sigh of relief and removed the quilt from her lap. Mrs. Jenkinson, Anne’s nurse, came over to her charge, patted her hand, and removed to an adjacent sitting room where she would be available but not intrusive.
Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had been waiting for his aunt to leave the room, started pacing the floor. After ten days of continued interaction with Lady Catherine and listening to her soliloquies on everything from tending a garden, which she never did, to commenting on great art, which she had never seen, to the great cities of Europe, which she had never visited, he was exhausted. And with Darcy in his room refusing to come down, it was impossible to play even a game of whist.
“Anne, play something on the pianoforte,” her cousin pleaded. “Even if you play badly, at least we will have something to laugh at.”
“Richard, as you know very well, the pianoforte is here exclusively for the use of our visitors as no one in the house has ever learned.”
“But as your mother has stated on several occasions, if she had learned to play, she would have been a great proficient.”
“And if my health had allowed for me to learn, as Mama has frequently stated, I would have performed delightfully. So much untapped talent in one house. It truly is a shame,” Anne said with a chuckle. “But I thought Miss Elizabeth played quite well. Although she insisted she has little talent, I think she displayed a degree of competence that made listening to her quite pleasant. I am sure Will enjoyed her playing as he went over to the piano as soon as she had begun. What do you think?”
“What do I think? What I think is where in the deuce is Darcy? He said he had business letters to write, but he cannot still be at it. When I went to his room to plead with him to come to dinner so I would not have to bear the burden of your mother’s undivided attention, he waved me off. Then he called me back to tell me to be ready to leave for London no later than noon tomorrow, implying that I was responsible for our delayed return to town. My bags have been packed and ready for the last three days. It is he who keeps putting it off. Mercer must be beside himself with all of the contradictory instructions he has been given. His behavior has been odd since our arrival. I have never seen him so unsettled.”
It was not unusual for Will to be out of sorts when confined indoors, and confinement was the very definition of a visit to Rosings. He hated to be cooped up for any length of time, and idle chatter drove him to distraction. The dearth of truly good society had Darcy on edge, and his annoyance usually generated biting comments. “If I hear one more time about the condition of the roads between here and Bath, I shall pay for the repairs myself.”
“Anne, I can wait no longer as I am committed to joining the Aldens in Hampshire. I shall have precious little time for shooting, as I must return to my regiment within a fortnight. Blast it all! I am sure all the best coveys are already gone,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, pounding the mantle in frustration. “Having said that, for some reason, I do think Darcy means it this time. He only has so much patience for your mother, and if he is keeping to his room, then he has obviously used it all up.”
Anne agreed that her cousin’s behavior was unusual. To begin with, Darcy’s visits never lasted more than a week. He felt obligated, as the son of Lady Catherine’s only sister, to visit his aunt, and insisted that Colonel Fitzwilliam, as the son of her only brother, come with him. But ten days? Rarely had he stayed this long. Anne was pretty sure she knew why he had extended his visit, and she intended to ask him about it when they were alone.
As if on cue, Darcy entered the room, and it was immediately apparent his mood had not improved.
“There you are, Darcy. Will you play cards as Anne is thoroughly bored with my conversation?”
“No, I have come down to say good-bye to Anne.”
“Then we truly are leaving in the morning?”
“Fitzwilliam, is it your habit to ask the same questions over and over again? It must be very tiresome for your staff.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam rose. “Still the bear, Darcy?” and walking over to Anne, he kissed her on her cheek. “Be careful, Anne. Although I do not think he will attack, he is still dangerous, so be on your guard or you may find yourself suffering lacerations from his sharp tongue.” Bowing from the waist, he added, “I bid you both a good night, and my dearest cousin, I shall see you sometime in December,” and looking at Darcy, “if not before.”
Once Fitzwilliam left the room, Anne got right after Darcy. “He is correct, you know. You have been a bear ever since you came back from the parsonage.”
“Who said I went to the parsonage?” Darcy asked with some alarm in his voice.
“Didn’t you? I assumed you went there once you had learned the reason why Miss Elizabeth did not dine at Rosings. You left in such a hurry. I could think of no other reason.”
Darcy started to pace. “Yes, I was concerned. During my morning rides, I have become accustomed to meeting Miss Elizabeth on her walks in the park, but I did not see her this morning. When the Collinses said she was unwell, I thought I should go to the parsonage and inquire after her health.”