P&P The Untold Stories: Is Mr. Darcy in Love?

There is a great deal of awkwardness at the parsonage when Mr. Darcy visits. I wish he would not call. I have no idea what he means by it – unless he comes here to find fault. –- from Elizabeth’s letter to Jane, April 4, 1812

Why did Mr. Darcy come so often to the Parsonage? It could not be for society, as he frequently sat there ten minutes together without opening his lips; and when he did speak, it seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice—a sacrifice to propriety, not a pleasure to himself. He seldom appeared really animated. Mrs. Collins knew not what to make of him –- Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 32

Charlotte Suspects

“Was that Mr. Darcy’s voice I heard?” asked Maria as they entered the parsonage, taking off her bonnet.

Charlotte had been wracking her brain as they were walking, trying to work out the best way to bring up an unpleasant situation to her husband. One of the tenants was complaining to the whole village that Lady Catherine had not sent a thatcher to repair his leaking roof as her ladyship had promised. Charlotte knew Mr. Collins would take offence at the tiniest hint of negligence on Lady Catherine’s side. Still, it had to be addressed. Charlotte believed firmly it was the vicar’s duty to inform Lady Catherine of anything to do with his parishioners’ welfare. It would require extreme tact to convince him that, in this situation, a gentle reminder would be appropriate. If she did not phrase it just right, he would turn on her, and she would be subjected to a long lecture about Lady Catherine’s generosity, and be expected to express her gratitude for everything their patroness had done for them.

Maria’s words, however, surprised her into almost dropping the bonnet as she reached up to hang it on the peg. Heavens! Was Mr. Darcy at the parsonage? Surely not?

She paused briefly in front of the mirror to straighten her hair. Mr. Collins had instilled in her the necessity of looking her best at all times.

“I wonder what brought Mr. Darcy here?” she said to her sister, as she quickened her steps. “Lady Catherine must have sent him with an invitation for us to dine at Rosings.”

“What an honor for him to call on us! Just think! He is under our very roof!”

Charlotte snorted. It was clear that Mr. Collins had succeeded in influencing her younger sister. Maria, like him, was completely in awe of Lady Catherine and her nephew. Maybe Maria should have married him instead, Charlotte thought tartly. Clearly, he and her sister were better suited.

Charlotte was not in awe of any of them, but she knew on which side her bread was buttered. It was a bad idea to have Mr. Darcy waiting impatiently for her to return. If she had learned anything from her association with Lady Catherine, it was that fine folk of Mr. Darcy’s ilk were likely to be affronted at the slightest thing. Being around them was like walking on eggshells.

She hastened her footsteps. As they approached the parlor, they could hear Lizzy talking. Charlotte smiled at Lizzy’s tone of voice. She knew what it signified. They had known each other since childhood. This was the tone Lizzy used when she was trying her best to be polite, when what she really wanted to do was get up and leave.

“I enjoy walking amongst the apple trees,” she was saying, “but I am rather disappointed with Kent. It does not seem very different from Hertfordshire. I would have thought the “Orchard of England” would have many more orchards than I have seen so far.”

As Charlotte expected, Lizzy was provoking Mr. Darcy.  Charlotte stepped into the doorway quickly, ready to intervene, then stopped suddenly when her gaze fell on Mr. Darcy himself.

He was seated in a chair opposite Lizzy. Intent on what she was saying, he had not even noticed Charlotte coming in. His gaze was glued to Lizzy’s lips, his dark eyes fixed on her face. He was listening to Lizzy as raptly as if her words were divine intervention rather than humdrum polite conversation.

Ah. So that is the way the wind blows.

Lizzy spotted Charlotte at once and broke off. Relieved at no longer having to carry the conversation, she turned eagerly to greet Charlotte and Maria. Mr. Darcy, startled, jumped up to bow. By the time he straightened up, his face was void of all expression.

“Mr. Darcy, I am sorry to have kept you waiting,” said Charlotte, hurrying to greet him. “I trust you left Lady Catherine in good health.”

“Yes, thank you,” said Mr. Darcy. “I—I was told the ladies were inside or I would never have intruded like this on Miss Bennet.”

“My sister and I were out walking,” said Charlotte, feeling the need to explain herself, though more out of awkwardness than to impart information.

They all sat down, with Mr. Darcy taking a seat in the corner as far from Elizabeth as he possibly could. He appeared even more awkward than usual.

Charlotte hastened to set him at ease. “Are you planning to stay with your aunt for some time, Mr. Darcy?”

“I have not yet determined the date of my departure,” said Darcy.

“Is the colonel enjoying his stay in Kent?” she said.

“Very much so,” he replied.

A heavy silence descended on the room. A crow cawed loudly outside the window. The four of them watched it as it spread its large wings and flew away.

“Did Miss Bennet offer you refreshments, Mr. Darcy?”

“I require none. I shall be leaving shortly,” replied Darcy.

“Do you visit your aunt often?”

“I have not visited her for some time. I had to deal with something – I try to visit her at least twice a year.”

Charlotte exchanged glances with Elizabeth, who practically rolled her eyes. Thankfully, she was restrained enough not to do so, but Charlotte could see her friend was exasperated. Was Mr. Darcy tongue-tied, or did he think it beneath his notice to talk to them? Charlotte wondered if she had misunderstood his expression when she entered. He was certainly making no effort to draw Lizzy’s attention. Quite the opposite.  Surely someone of his social position was more than capable of keeping up a conversation?

Charlotte shifted in her seat, flustered and uncertain. As if Mr. Darcy’s affliction had spread to her, ideas for polite discourse suddenly evaded her. She struggled to find something to say.

Silence settled over the small room once again. Darcy sat in the corner and contemplated the wall. Maria shifted her shawl and rearranged it around her shoulders. Charlotte wished she had ordered refreshments. It would keep everyone busy at least.

Then Lizzy began to drum her fingers against the arm of her chair, and Mr. Darcy’s gaze swung in their direction, drawn to the movement. Lizzy, conscious of the scrutiny, stopped her drumming and quirked her brow. Charlotte knew that expression. Elizabeth was about to say something outrageous.

Accustomed to smoothing ruffled feathers around her husband, Charlotte quickly interceded to prevent her.

“Miss de Bourgh appears to be in better spirits, now that she has so many people to keep her amused. It was very quiet at Rosings before everyone arrived.”

“My cousin is accustomed to a quiet life,” remarked Darcy.

Charlotte waited hopefully for him to elaborate, but he fell silent again. His attention was focused on the wall again.

Elizabeth threw him an incredulous look. “Surely she is pleased to have company Mr. Darcy. I cannot imagine she would prefer to be alone.”

“You may not prefer to be alone, Miss Bennet. My cousin, however, is sickly and does not care to exert herself too much.” His gaze shifted to her face. “Not everyone enjoys a lively temperament such as yours.”

The words were spoken in such a manner it was impossible to tell if they were a compliment or a reproach, leaving Charlotte uncertain what to make of them.

Another silence fell on the group. Charlotte felt exhausted. Fortunately, there was still one topic that could reliably be counted upon to start a discussion. It was a last resort.

”The weather looks to be agreeable for Easter, does it not?” she said. “Do you think it will continue to be warm.”

“No one can predict the weather,” said Mr. Darcy.

If there was anything guaranteed to kill a conversation, it was Mr. Darcy’s statement. Elizabeth was looking down at her hands, her mouth twitching. Charlotte hoped that Lizzy was not going to burst out laughing.

As if sensing the possibility, Darcy rose abruptly to his feet and the ladies followed.

“I must take my leave. My aunt—”

“—yes, of course.” She hoped she did not sound too eager to get rid of him. “She will be asking for you.”

He turned to Lizzy and bowed stiffly. “Miss Bennet. I suppose I shall see you at church on Sunday.”

Lizzy curtsied. “You shall indeed, Mr. Darcy. I would not miss it for the world.” Her eyes were full of mischief.

Charlotte could not be certain, but she thought Mr. Darcy’s color deepened.

“Mrs. Collins. Miss Lucas.” He bowed and walked stiffly away.

As the door shut behind him. Lizzy gave a sigh of relief and sank into her seat.

“I thought he would never leave. I was afraid I was going to start giggling, like my giddy sisters.”

“What can be the meaning of this?” Charlotte sank into her chair, trying not to imagine Mr. Darcy’s ire if Lizzy had started to laugh. “My dear Lizzy, he must be in love with you, or he would not have called on us in this familiar way.”

“That is quite absurd, Charlotte, as you know very well. Fortunately, I have never taken your proclamations seriously, or I would believe half the men in Meryton were in love with me.”

“That is unfair, Lizzy. I have never led you astray when it comes to such matters.”

“Really?” said Elizabeth. “And what about the case of Mr. Hawker? Remember how you convinced me he cared about me when all along he was planning to marry Miss Kendall?”

“I still believe he cared nothing for Miss Kendall,” said Charlotte. “He married her for her fortune.”

“Let us suppose for a moment you are right, for the sake of argument. If Mr. Darcy has any regard for me, he has chosen a most peculiar way of expressing it. Before you entered, I was trying most desperately to talk to him, yet all the while he was staring at me in such a haughty manner, I felt his purpose must be to pick a quarrel with me. He despises me.”

“If, as you say, he despises you,” said Charlotte, “then why seek out your company?”

“It is not my company he was after, it is ours. I am sure he comes here to escape from Rosings. I cannot imagine how he can endure Lady Catherine’s company for hours at a time.”

It was hard to argue against that. Yet Charlotte could not forget the expression on Mr. Darcy when she had walked into the room. He had seemed—she sought for a word—completely entranced.

“You mistake the matter, my dear friend. I think he has formed an attachment.”

Elizabeth laughed. “If you had been in the room with us earlier you would have realized how mistaken you are. He was far from happy when he found me here alone and his manner was so cold it was obvious that only civility prevented him from turning tail and leaving as soon as he arrived.”

Charlotte considered Lizzy’s words. Could she have been mistaken? Had his rapt expression been nothing but a trick of the light?

“But are you certain, Lizzy? Could he not have been embarrassed rather than displeased to catch you alone?”

“Embarrassed?” said Lizzy. “I would as soon call Lady Catherine shy! Have you not seen enough evidence of his arrogance and conceit, Charlotte? Have you forgotten Wickham’s testimony regarding his character? You need only ask our neighbors in Meryton and they will all mention his pride and disregard for others. Tell me, Charlotte, since you are determined to redeem him, why he did not call on Jane in London to inquire about me if he is attached to me.” Elizabeth shook her head. “I see what is happening, Charlotte. You are forced to live in close quarters with Lady Catherine as your patroness and so you are compelled to find the good in her. Now you wish to find the good in her nephew, too. That is a perfectly simple explanation.”

Charlotte reflected on this. It was true that she had found herself trying hard to justify Lady Catherine’s often high-handed behavior. The Collins’s were dependent on her for their livelihood and it was easier to fall in with her husband’s perception of their benefactress than to remain critical. Elizabeth was right. She was now trying to do the same with the nephew.

She smiled at her own folly. “You know me too well, Elizabeth. I would like to believe the whole family is kind and amiable. It makes life easier.”

“That is because you want to see the good in people, Charlotte, which is just as well, or you would never have had me as a friend.”

Charlotte chuckled. “Oh, I know you are far from perfect, Lizzy. But you are my dearest friend and I would not have anyone say otherwise, including Mr. Darcy. Still,” she added wistfully, “I would have liked Mr. Darcy to be in love with you.”

“You cannot truly wish Mr. Darcy upon me, Charlotte. Just think of his aunt. Think of the uproar there would be if he – heaven forbid – decided to marry me! You would have to deal with her ill temper for months to come.”

Charlotte shuddered. “Very well, Lizzy, you have cured me of such thoughts once and for all. Let us hope that nothing like this will ever come to pass!”

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