Page 41 of Mr. Darcy Forgot I Said No

"Very wise, my dear."

There is a pause. Mr. Collins cuts his mutton into very small pieces. Then, abruptly, he puts down his knife and fork and addresses the saltcellar with tremendous earnestness.

"I wish it to be understood," he says, "that I saw nothing."

"Of course you did not," says Charlotte.

"Nothing whatever. And I have told her ladyship nothing whatever." He swallows. "Her ladyship did inquire, as I passed the house, whether I had seen Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennet in the grounds. And I said—" he squares his shoulders, "—that I had seen a great many laurels."

Maria lets out a squeak and puts her napkin over her face.

"That was very discreet of you, Mr. Collins," I say. My voice is not quite steady.

He looks at me for the first time since the shrubbery, startled, and then turns slowly scarlet with pleasure.

"Thank you, cousin," he says. "I endeavor to be discreet. It is the duty of a clergyman." He picks up his fork again. "Although I must say, if her ladyship asks me directly, I shall be obliged to—that is, I shall be very much torn—" His face crumples with the anguish of it. "I do hope she does not ask me directly."

"So do I," I say, with feeling.

***

Colonel Fitzwilliam calls after dinner.

He comes into the parlor with his hat still in his hand and the expression of a man who has been charged with a message and has very much enjoyed carrying it.

"I cannot stay," he says. "My aunt thinks I have gone to see about a horse. But I had to tell you, Miss Bennet. You will never guess what Darcy has done."

"What has he done?"

"Our aunt dismissed Hobbs this afternoon."

"Hobbs?" I set down my work. "For the bough?"

"For the bough. For not cutting it at Michaelmas, when she gave no order to cut it at Michaelmas. Thirty years at Rosings, and she turned him off between luncheon and tea." The Colonel's eyes are dancing. "And Darcy heard of it from Lowe within the quarter hour, and wrote her a note from his bed. I have seen it. She showed it to me, in a great passion, so that I might share in her outrage. I have it by heart." He clears his throat and puts on a voice so exactly like his cousin's that Charlotte has to bite her lip. "Madam. If Hobbs is turned off for a fault that was not his, I shall take him to Pemberley as head groom at double his present wages, and I shall tell everyone in Derbyshire why. Your affectionate nephew, F. Darcy."

I stare at him.

"And?" says Charlotte.

"And Hobbs is reinstated," says the Colonel. "With an apology. Well, not an apology. Our aunt does not apologize. But she told him she had changed her mind, which in her is very nearly the same thing." He grins. "And that is not all. Pettigrew came to me this evening in a great state, waving a banker's draft. Darcy has paid his account. Three times over. With a note asking him to send the extra to whatever poor family in the parish he thinks most in need of it, and on no account to say where it came from."

"He would not want it known," I say slowly.

"He never does. That is Darcy all over." The Colonel's grin softens into something else. "He has been doing this sort of thing since we were boys. He paid off a stable lad's debts at Cambridge once, and the lad never knew who did it. He keeps half his tenants' widows in coal and none of them know his name is on the account. He would rather be thought proud and cold than be thanked for anything. He says thanks are a tax on kindness."

Too generous, sometimes, he said of his father, under the limes. To people who did not deserve it.

The Colonel looks at me. His face is gentle.

"I thought you ought to know," he says. "You have seen the worst of him. I wanted you to see this too."

"I have seen it," I say. My throat is tight. "I have seen a great deal of it lately."

He looks at me a moment longer. Then he bows, and takes his leave, and the door closes, and the parlor is quiet.

***

Charlotte puts down her sewing.