An End to Estrangement - A Pride and Prejudice Variation

Part 31

Darcy helped Mr Egerton and his sister into their carriage and watched as the conveyance lurched unsteadily into motion before he returned to the parlour, where Sir William's other guests were whispering at the sudden and unexpected departure of two of their number before the evening had truly begun.

"Not to worry, not to worry, eh!" Sir William was saying, his booming voice seeking to reassure his guests. "They were lately returned from London, some medical appointment or another. I dare say all the poking and prodding, not to mention travel, got the better of poor old Egerton. We shall have them to dine separately, my dear," he continued to his wife. "Perhaps next week?"

Darcy drew his lips into a thin line. It was not a complete lie, he supposed, and certainly not one that needed correcting. He was sure poor old Egerton would rather use the excuse of post-consultation fatigue than expound upon the real reason for his sudden departure. Darcy glanced longingly towards the door. He could not blame the man for wanting to retire and think over the news he had just learned in private. He adjusted his cravat, making a silent promise to himself that he would take a ride out to the Egerton's estate the next day and speak to the man again, at length. He seemed a sensible fellow, unlikely to act rashly, but that did not mean he would not wish for some sort of retribution for the wrongs done to him and his family, and rightly so. Darcy would do what he could to ensure his honour was satisfied. He grimaced. Even if that meant seeking out an association with George Wickham once again.

"I hope you are not sickening for whatever that poor Edgley fellow had!" A snivelling voice at Darcy's shoulder caught his attention and he turned to find himself alone with Mr Bennet's cousin. Collins, wasn't it?

"Egerton," he clarified, correcting the name of his lately departed friend.

"What?"

"It was Mr Egerton who left, and his sister," Darcy explained, poised to turn away from Mr Collins. He was in no mood to be charitable to this particular gentleman. Charlotte Lucas's words still rang in his ears, at least what he had overheard of them. You and Mr Collins intend to marry... He clenched his jaw. "His name is Egerton."

"Oh. Yes, of course." Mr Collins laughed, a moment too long and a little too enthusiastically for Darcy, whose nerves were already on edge. He was poised to walk away, already formulating a response but before he could utter a word of it, Collins had spoken again.

"I must say I was pleased to have a moment alone with you, Mr Darcy. That is to say, as alone as one can be in a room full of people." He chuckled again, the humour dying on his lips when he saw Darcy's dour expression. "Yes. Well, anyway. I wished to know you a little, for my patroness is bound to ask me, upon my return to Kent...you recall the identity of my patroness, Mr Darcy?" Collins paused. "Lady Catherine de Bourgh."

"We are acquainted," Darcy said, drily. "You alerted me to the strange twist in fate that should bring both you and me to Hertfordshire at the same time. Now, if you would excuse me -"

"A twist in fate! Indeed, that is precisely what it is. Although, you know, I prefer to think of it as Godly Providence." Mr Collins beamed at him and Darcy, unsure how to react, settled on his habitual grimace. Mr Collins must have been satisfied, anyway, because he attempted to lay a hand on Darcy's shoulder and urge him into walking a step or two together and, seeing no alternative open to him, Darcy consented to do so.

"She speaks of you often, you know. Indeed, I feel quite confident that, even had we not been introduced at Longbourn, that I might have identified you solely by the powers of her description."

"Indeed."

"Although she does quite lament that you have not called there in quite some time. Now, far be it for me to interfere in the business of other people, although that is, you might say, my profession."

Darcy wondered if Mr Collins always exhibited so awkward a personality to the world. He felt a flash of sympathy for the man, or he might have done, had it not been entirely outweighed by the feelings of jealousy that this was the man Elizabeth Bennet planned to marry. This was who she would choose to be with when she had happily thrown Fitzwilliam Darcy aside. Had she not realised how happy they might have been together? Did she not care? Perhaps therein lay the truth. She did not care. She had never cared. And now she feared only that any allusion to their past affection might unsettle whatever future she was busily constructing with Mr Collins. In a moment of desperation, Darcy wondered if, were Collins to be made aware of the past association between him and Elizabeth, he would still wish to marry her. The idea was nonsense. Nothing untoward had happened between Elizabeth and him and to suggest it had would be cruelty for cruelty's sake. Fitzwilliam Darcy might be many things but he was not cruel. Unless I wish to live up to the reputation stored up for me by Wickham. He swallowed an irritable sigh. Poor Egerton had been devastated by Darcy's confession of just who George Wickham was to him, and how he had evaded justice for numerous crimes, the least of which had ruined Egerton's future in one badly planned adventure. When Darcy hinted that he had reason to believe that Wickham was now stationed with the militia in nearby Meryton, that had been the final straw, and had resulted in Egerton's hasty departure.

"Mr Darcy?"

Darcy straightened. He had quite forgotten Mr Collins was standing there, still talking to him. Clearing his throat, he ducked his head, feigning interest.

"I quite agree."

"Indeed? Well, that is delightful. Quite delightful! I shall write at once to my patroness and inform her that you intend to visit Kent before the year is out!"

"I'm sorry?" Darcy's throat constricted. This was not what he had intended at all!

"Perhaps we might even persuade her to come to Hertfordshire!" Mr Collins chuckled. "Although, no, I think perhaps it is best to visit her at Rosings. It is such a fine, elegant estate, you know, and I do not imagine there is anywhere to compare to it here in Hertfordshire."

"I-"

"Oh, excuse me! I see my cousin is attempting to attract my attention. Mr Bennet!" Mr Collins beamed at him and walked away, his attention already on the man before him, rather than the taciturn and vague Mr Darcy.

Darcy watched him leave, indifference growing to abject dislike. If this was the gentleman Elizabeth had chosen over all others - over him - then what did that say about her?

Perhaps he was mistaken. Their acquaintance had been fleeting, after all, and so long ago. Almost without meaning to, he found his eyes straying across the room to where he had last seen her, conversing in whispers with Charlotte Lucas. Charlotte was there, but now instead of Elizabeth, she was joined by two people Darcy did not know.

"Why are you lurking here by yourself? Come and join us!"

It was Bingley this time, a far preferable alternative to Mr Collins. Darcy grinned, relief flooding his veins. His relief lasted only a moment, though, for no sooner had he allowed Bingley to steer him to another small group of friends than he realised that the us to whom Bingley referred was not himself and his sisters, but Jane Bennet and hers.

Elizabeth seemed as surprised to find herself suddenly face to face with him as he was with her.

"Mr Darcy, I -"

"Good evening, Miss Elizabeth," he said, surprised at how natural his voice sounded. "I suppose I must be the first to congratulate you on news of your engagement. How soon do you and Mr Collins plan to marry?"