The Beginning of Hope

Part 16

"...and Rosings, Miss Lucas!"

Mr Collins clutched his heart in an approximation of rapture, and Charlotte glanced at Elizabeth, evidently unsure whether to take him seriously.

"Rosings is the estate at which Mr Collins's patroness lives, Charlotte," Elizabeth began, hoping to forestall a long, detailed introduction to the one lady Mr Collins had scarcely ceased to speak of since his arrival in Hertfordshire. She was not successful, though, for after glancing at her out of the corner of one eye in a manner that might have been one of irritation, Mr Collins turned directly to Charlotte, ready to impart to her the same gushing descriptions with which he had already succeeded in tiring his cousins.

"Lady Catherine de Bourgh." He breathed the name as if it were an incantation. "Is the name of my patroness, Miss Lucas, and I am unsure if there has ever been a nobler, a kinder, a more accomplished..." He listed several more superlatives that made Elizabeth begin to doubt Lady Catherine de Bourgh even existed, and she allowed her attention to wander, her eyes scanning the room. She saw Jane and Mr Bingley happily conversing with Sir William and observed how well they looked together. She could almost imagine them married, surrounded by several healthy, happy children and living out their days in comfort at Netherfield, until her gaze reached Caroline Bingley, who was staring at the same couple with such unadulterated annoyance that Elizabeth's spirits raised in defence of her sister against whatever imaginary slights she pictured floating through Caroline's mind.

"And yet, Providence was minded that I not be but a little removed from my dear patroness, even here," Mr Collins continued, his voice trembling a little in anticipation of the amusing little detail he was poised to deliver. Elizabeth, fearing she knew what was to come, wondered if she might contrive of a way to prevent it, but before she could say a word, Mr Collins had clapped his hands, rejoicing like a small boy over a puppy.

"She has a nephew, Miss Lucas! Can you imagine?"

"People do have them, I suppose, Mr Collins." Charlotte was her normally sensible self, and ordinarily, Elizabeth might have found this dry rejoinder amusing, but she knew, as Charlotte did not, the identity of the nephew that Mr Collins was about to name. Her eyes sought him out, although she did not find him at first, at last locating him with his back towards them, making a foursome with Mr and Miss Egerton, and Mary.

"Mr Darcy!"

"Mr Darcy?" Charlotte turned to Elizabeth. "Did you know that?"

"Not until Mr Collins mentioned it," Elizabeth confessed, wrenching her gaze back from the corner where Mary looked so uncharacteristically, radiantly happy, and wondering how it was that the two sisters had seemingly changed places. She, Elizabeth, was ordinarily content to make conversation with friends and strangers, and Mary was the one caught amid awkward pairings and trios, eyeing the doorway and longing to be able to go home.

"How peculiar! I suppose Mr Darcy has been made aware of the connection?"

"Oh, yes." Mr Collins nodded so enthusiastically that Elizabeth was momentarily concerned for his health. "He was amused to note it, also, and was pleased to hear the good report I was able to offer of his aunt and cousin." He dropped his voice to a convivial stage whisper. "There is a something of a tendresse, you understand, between him and his cousin." He looked pointedly from Charlotte to Elizabeth, silently pleading them to follow this small snippet of gossip and ask for more, which Charlotte obediently did.

"He is engaged, then? Well, that certainly explains his reticence since his arrival here." She let out a sigh that Elizabeth would ordinarily have understood in a moment. Charlotte was desperate to marry and lamented the abject lack of prospective suitors in Meryton. The arrival of Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy multiplied their pool considerably, but Mr Bingley's immediate infatuation with Jane had effectively closed him off as a potential suitor. To hear, now, that Mr Darcy was likewise spoken for would be a bitter disappointment to Charlotte's romantic sensibilities, no matter how vociferously she might have claimed to never have thought of Mr Darcy in that way.

However, Elizabeth was too stunned by Mr Collin's words to even form a coherent thought. Mr Darcy engaged? It seemed as if the ground tilted beneath her feet, and she reached out, grasping blindly for something to steady her. Her hand found Mr Collins' arm, and he cheerfully offered it, reading into the action some show of intimacy that encouraged the further sharing of secrets. Delighted to have so captivated his feminine audience, he took a deep breath and continued with his tale.

"Indeed, it is a charming arrangement. It seems that Lady Catherine de Bourgh and her sister - that is Mr Darcy's late mother, you understand - made the plan when Mr Darcy and Miss de Bourgh were infants in their cradles. It is as if their love story was penned even before they could speak! Of course, I dare say he will go on to Kent from here to begin arrangements for the wedding, for I know Lady Catherine is eager for that happy day to arrive and I am sure, knowing Miss de Bourgh as I do, that Mr Darcy can be only too eager, himself, to begin the next chapter of his life." He let out a sigh and fixed Elizabeth with an adoring glance she did not notice, so busy was she turning over this piece of information in her mind. "If only all men could be so fortunate in their quest for love!"

Mr Darcy is engaged to be married, then! He has been all his life - and all my life! What, then, was the purpose of his friendship to me in London? Her heart grew cold. It was worse than she had ever imagined. He had not tired of her, there had been no misunderstanding, no miscommunication. All along, he had toyed with her, encouraging an affection he knew would lead nowhere, and then dropping her when it suited him to move on. Heat flooded into her cheeks and her heart raced in her chest, not with the bitterness of thwarted love, this time, but with cold, hard anger. He had acted as if they were both at fault as if he had blamed her for playing some part in their separation, but what right had he to act so? He is the one at fault, and only him! It seems I made a narrow escape and must devote no more time to mourning the loss of the man I once thought I knew. Mr Darcy is quite a different person than I ever imagined him to be!