P&P The Untold Stories: Fitzwilliam & Darcy Visit the Parsonage Again

Fitzwilliam and Darcy Suffer the Attentions of Mr. Collins – Again

March 31st, 1812

“MR. DARCY AND COLONEL FITZWILLIAM,” THE SERVANT ANNOUNCED.

The party ensconced at the Hunsford Parsonage stood about the small parlor. Colonel Fitzwilliam quickly took in the scene: Mr. Collins, tall and stocky, was literally bowing from the waist.

Steady man, the colonel thought. I am not my father, the earl.

Mrs. Collins, plain and pleasant, stood next to her husband, her slight curtsey all that was correct for a woman of her station and that of her guests. Closest to the fireplace was Mrs. Collins’ young and awestruck sister, Miss Lucas. By the table was her pretty friend, Miss Bennet.

“Mr. Darcy! Colonel Fitzwilliam! You honor us most acutely by your presence! That you would lower yourselves to once again enter this humble abode! Not that this house is so very humble, for what parsonage in all of England could boast of the careful attentions, generosity, and taste of Lady Catherine de Bourgh! Such approbation! Such compassion to my relations! But who could expect less from the nephews of my most generous patroness?”

In this manner, Mr. Collins continued, and Fitzwilliam was hard pressed to hide his smile completely at the man’s foolishness. He managed it by smiling as he greeted the ladies. In short order, he found himself seated at a small table with Miss Bennet, while the others attempted to attend to Darcy.

Darcy was behaving as he usually did, his cousin noted. Uncomfortable in any social situation away from his close friends and family, the man fell back into cold politeness and taciturn statements. Fitzwilliam was accustomed to it and hardly noticed, but the same could not be said for his fair companion.

“I am sorry all sport is done, Colonel,” she said.

“I did not know that ladies paid any great attention to gentlemen’s pursuits, Miss Bennet.”

“Oh! You are severe on us!” Her smile took away any bite to her words. “We ladies do talk of things beside lace and finery. Gentlemen’s activities are always of great interest to us, for it is said that a man grows ridiculous without an occupation, and the follies of our fellows are the very heart of gossip.”

The colonel laughed heartily. “How well you know us! Indeed, sloth is abhorrent to me and my friend, too.”

Miss Bennet’s eyes darted to Darcy. “I have heard it said of your cousin that he dislikes quiet Sunday afternoons.”

“I cannot say that is an accurate description of Darcy.”

“I must bow to your superior knowledge, sir. But to defend myself, I was told by a very good source that there is no more awful object than that gentleman at his own house on a Sunday evening, when he has nothing to do.”

Fitzwilliam laughed again. “Now that is true! Darcy always wants to do something useful, particularly for someone else. He has not accepted the idea that he must rest like us mere mortals!”

“Are people always dependent on his advice and efforts, then? He sounds very much like his aunt.”

Fitzwilliam glanced about the room. It was a small, modest house, but Lady Catherine had seen to improvements. The furniture might be sparse, but it was of good quality, castoffs from the last redecoration of Rosings. The paint and wall coverings were relatively new and fresh, and Fitzwilliam could see his aunt’s hand in the sensible arrangement of the furnishings.

Knowing my aunt’s attention to detail, the Collinses are probably frightened out of their wits to move any of this more than an inch without prior approval!

“I would say that both my aunt and my cousin take a prodigious interest in the concerns of those under their care.” Although for dramatically different reasons! Darcy truly cares for his servants and tenants, like his father and mine, while Lady Catherine only desires to exercise control over the lower classes.

Miss Bennet nodded to herself as if the colonel’s words had reinforced a previously held opinion.  She glanced again at Darcy, and Fitzwilliam could see that he was staring at her.

Darcy is showing unusual attention to my pretty companion. I believe there is some admiration in it. Is the lady’s teasing a sign that she is aware of it and approves? I cannot tell. Her wit is so sharp I wonder if she means to tickle or wound.

Tea was then served, which gave Miss Lucas an excuse to join the pair. Mr. Darcy remained on the sofa, an unwilling recipient of Mr. Collins’ insipid conversation.

Twenty minutes later the cousins were walking back to Rosings.

“Darcy,” cried Fitzwilliam, “I know you can be reserved to a distressing degree, but if you insist on continuing to call on the Collinses, at least you could actually carry on a conversation with them.”

Darcy shook his head. “I believe I talked as much as ever.”

“You hardly talked at all!”

Darcy looked over at his friend. “Compared to you, anyone would seem struck dumb—” he paused dramatically, “save Mr. Collins!”

“Too true.  There, you see! You do have a wit! You should show it if you mean—”

“Mean what?”

Fitzwilliam held his tongue. If Darcy was attracted to Miss Bennet, he would never admit it anyone until he was ready. Besides, the colonel reminded himself that he might be mistaken.

“If you mean to show yourself to good advantage,” Fitzwilliam finished lamely.

“Show myself to good advantage? To whom, Fitz? A foolish country parson, one who is suitable to no one save my overbearing aunt?”

“Darcy, that is harsh!” At Darcy’s raised eyebrow, he added, “But true!”

They walked on for a little while. Upon beholding the front door of Rosings, Darcy blurted out, “We should visit the parsonage again tomorrow if the weather holds.”

Fitzwilliam grinned. Well, I say! Darcy is lost to the charms of Miss Bennet!

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