Mr. Darcy's Comfort Page 11

  “Good morning, Mr. Collins,” Kitty greeted as he began his descent of the stairs.

  Ah, it was a good morning, indeed, if Kitty’s smiling face was the first he had the pleasure of seeing. However, it would be a better morning if he could remember to speak instead of just staring when she spoke to him.

  “Good…morning,” he finally stammered to her retreating form. Yes, that would impress her. He shook his head and hurried down the stairs to the breakfast room.

  Thankfully, the breakfast room was pleasantly empty when he entered. He would have a few moments to gather his thoughts and recover from his embarrassment before having to speak to anyone.

  “Good morning.”

  Tea sloshed over the side of the cup into which Collins was pouring.

  “I did not mean to startle you.”

  “Think nothing of it, Miss Elizabeth. I was merely too immersed in my thoughts to pay proper attention to my surroundings.” He glanced at her as he mopped up the tea his saucer had not caught.

  “I am afraid it is a horrid fault which I must own.” His hand stilled. Had she actually smiled at him? And not in a what a fool fashion? Hmm. That was unexpected.

  “I believe there are several of us in this house who fall prey to such things on a regular basis,” Elizabeth replied as she brought him a fresh cloth before taking her seat. “I have been known to wander for hours, lost to time, while pondering. And it is best to make some small sound before speaking to either Jane or Kitty when they are intent upon their stitching, or one might be the cause of a pricked finger.”

  “I shall endeavour to remember that, and I thank you for alerting me to the danger.” He sat down and began eating his egg. “The eggs are good.”

  “They are,” Elizabeth agreed. “Have you been to see the outbuildings at all?”

  Collins shook his head. “None but the stable.”

  “Then, on a fine day, Mr. Darcy and I shall have to take you on a tour.” She pulled in a deep breath. “They will be yours eventually.”

  “Ours. They will be ours,” he corrected with a small smile. He knew the blessing he would receive through the inheritance of Longbourn. Without it, he would likely have always remained a parson. Not that that was so bad a thing, but to be the master of one’s own estate? Ah, that…that was success. That was position. That was more than his father had ever had.

  “Thank you,” Elizabeth said softly. “You have been most gracious with my mother.” She took a sip of her tea.

  “How could I be otherwise?” Collins asked in surprise, but then his brows drew together as a thought struck him. “I never knew your father, and he never knew me. He only ever knew my father, and if one were to describe my father to me, I would fear such a person.” He shrugged. “I did.”

  “You feared your own father?” Elizabeth’s hand covered her mouth, and her eyes were wide.

  “No need to apologize. It is hard to imagine when one has been in possession of a father who is what a father should be – indulgent, kind, not overly serious, nor one to raise his voice.” Again, he shrugged. “At least, that is how I imagine a good father should be.”

  The hours he has spent locked in his room for some small indiscretion which had sent his father on a screaming rampage which ended in a bruise or two and hungry night had given him plenty of time to imagine what a proper father should be – the sort of father he hoped to be.

  Elizabeth tipped her head and looked at him for a long while as he finished his egg and spread jam on his toast. Finally, she smiled and returned to her tea.

  “Then, I hope you will have a long time to spend with my father.”

  There were tears in her eyes, and he looked steadfastly at his toast until his own tears were forced to retreat. It was another failing on his part. He was too soft. The mere appearance of tears in the eyes of a lady should not cause him to become weepy, but, much to his shame, it did. “That would be my prayer as well, Miss Elizabeth.”

  “Elizabeth.”

  He lifted startled eyes to her.

  “We are cousins. You may call me Elizabeth.”

  “Are you certain?” He had never called any lady by their Christian name.

  “Yes.”

  “Very well, Elizabeth.” The word felt so strange on his tongue, as if it was missing an article of clothing to make it complete.

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “N…no. My mother died at my birth, and my father never remarried.” Which was likely good for the ladies of the land, since none had to be tied to such an ogre as his father.

  “How sad.”

  He nodded. “I often wished for a sibling and, of course, my mother, but that is not what God had designed for me to have. And knowing such, I attempted to be content.”

  “Do you have any other cousins?”

  He shook his head. “None of whom I know. Your father was the only one whom my father ever mentioned.” If there were others, they must not have had money, for money, land, or possessions of any value were what made relations and acquaintances important to his father.

  “So we are it? We are your family?”

  “As the good Lord reigns above.”

  Elizabeth fell silent and once again studied him as she ate.

  He would dearly like to know what was going through her head, and a longing to fill the silence with some sound nearly overwhelmed him. Sitting in silence, being scrutinized, while still feeling out of place in a new surrounding, begged him to release some of his anxiety in the form of words.

  “It is a beautiful day.”

  The words would not stay contained, no matter how he tried.

  “It might be a good day for a walk to Oakham Mount. That is what it is called, is it not? That hill to which you like to walk.” He clamped his lips closed. When the words started, they often just spilled out in great torrents.

  Elizabeth chuckled. “Yes, that is what it is called, but I should like to confine myself to the garden and the wilderness just beyond.”

  Dunderhead. Her father was ill. Of course, she did not want to be far from home.

  “I was not thinking,” he muttered. “It would be best to stay close. I should have thought of that.”

  “Things are out of the ordinary, and you have just gained a family.”

  She was one of the most kind and understanding ladies he had met.

  “You are very gracious,” he said. “Not at all obstinate,” he muttered and then froze with his tea lifted halfway to his mouth.

  Carefully, he moved just his eyes to see if Elizabeth had heard him. From the way her eyebrow arched, she must have.

  “I do apologize. I am sure Mr. Darcy meant it in the most flattering way. He is quite taken with you.”

  He shrank into himself as he saw her expression change from one of curiosity to unpleasant surprise.

  “My thoughts do not always stay where they should,” he said before clamping his lips closed.

  “Mr. Darcy said I was obstinate?”

  “Oh,” Collins groaned.

  He had hoped Mr. Darcy would one day be his friend, and it had appeared like the man was becoming such. However, now, he doubted greatly that such a thing should ever happen.

  “I asked him about my cousins when we were at Rosings. My lady, Lady Catherine, that is, had suggested I consider marrying one of you.”

  He swallowed. This was going from bad to worse. Her look of surprise was not receding.

  “I had to consider it. It seemed a good plan to mend the breach my father had caused in our family.” He pulled at his cravat. “I thought it most proper to inquire after the eldest, but I was assured Miss Bennet expected to have a happy announcement shortly. Naturally, I then inquired after the next in line.” He made a small gesture towards her with his hand. “You. And Mr. Darcy immediately told me that you would not make a proper parson’s wife at all. He was quite adamant. However, having met you, I do not know why he would disparage one so lovely as yourself.”

  His
brows furrowed. “Why are you so pleased?” Her look of surprise was completely gone.

  Her head dipped, and a faint blush stained her cheeks.

  “Because I think I know why he said what he did, and,” she looked up at him, “he is not wrong. I can be entirely too stubborn at times, and I would make a deplorable parson’s wife. I do not possess the nature that is necessary for such a role.”

  “I apologize. I should not have said anything.”

  “No,” Elizabeth replied firmly. “I am pleased you did.”

  “But Mr. Darcy will be angry.”

  Elizabeth chuckled. “I very much doubt that. He is not so dour and disapproving as I once thought.”

  “Disapproving?” Collins’s eyes were large and fluttered twice at the thought. “Mr. Darcy is all that is good.”

  “Oh, I agree,” she replied quickly. “However, he can be disapproving. You may ask him about that some time. I will not mind at all if you do.” Her lips had quirked up into a teasing smile.

  She was so obviously in love with Mr. Darcy.

  “Wait.” He returned his last piece of toast to his plate without taking a bite. “You thought Mr. Darcy was disagreeable?”

  She nodded.

  “And yet, you are betrothed to him?”

  Again, she nodded. “Astonishing, is it not?”

  Indeed!

  “I admit to being somewhat flabbergasted,” he admitted aloud while inwardly he rejoiced. If Mr. Darcy could persuade a lady who thought him disagreeable to marry him, was it not also possible that Mr. Darcy could help a gentleman, hoping to do the same thing, on to success?

  ~*~*~

  Can Mr. Darcy help Mr. Collins convince Kitty to marry him, or will his father’s words ring true as he becomes a sad and lonely Master of Longbourn?

  Find out in Master of Longbourn

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  Acknowledgements

  There are many who have had a part in the creation of this story. Some have read and commented on it. Some have proofread for grammatical errors and plot holes. Others have not even read the story and a few, I know, never will. However, their encouragement and belief in my ability, as well as their patience when I became cranky or when supper was late or the groceries ran low, was invaluable.

  And so, I would like to say thank you to Zoe, Rose, Betty, Kristine, Ben, and Kyle as well as my patrons on Patreon. I feel blessed by your help, support, and understanding.

  I have not listed my dear husband in the above group because, to me, he deserves his own special thank you, for, without his somewhat pushy insistence that I start sharing my writing, none of my writing goals and dreams would have been realized.

  More Dash of Darcy and Companions Stories

  A Dash of Darcy and Companions Collection

  Finally Mrs. Darcy

  Waking to Mr. Darcy

  A Very Mary Christmas (A sequel to Waking to Mr. Darcy)

  Discovering Mr.Darcy

  Not an Heiress (A sequel to Discovering Mr. Darcy)

  Unravelling Mr. Darcy

  Becoming Entangled (A sequel to Unravelling Mr. Darcy)

  Enticing Miss Darcy (A sequel to Becoming Entangled)

  Mr. Darcy’s Comfort

  Master of Longbourn (A sequel to Mr. Darcy’s Comfort)

  Other Leenie B Books

  Novels ~ Novellas ~ Shorts

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  Oxford Cottage: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

  For Peace of Mind: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

  Teatime Tales: Six Short and Sweet Austen-Inspired Stories

  Listen To Your Heart: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

  With the Colonel’s Help: A Pride and Prejudice Novella

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  Darcy Family Holidays

  Two Days before Christmas (book 1)

  One Winter’s Eve (book 2)

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  The Choices Series: Pride & Prejudice Novellas

  Her Father’s Choice (book 1)

  No Other Choice (book 2)

  His Inconvenient Choice (book 3)

  Her Heart’s Choice (book 4)

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  Willow Hall Romances

  And Then Love: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Prequel (book 1)

  The Tenant’s Guest: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Novella (book 2)

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  At All Costs: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Novel (book 4)

  Better Than She Deserved: A Pride and Prejudice Novelette (sequel 1)

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  Touches of Austen Collection

  His Beautiful Bea

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  Other Pens

  Through Every Storm: A Pride and Prejudice Novella

  Henry: To Prove Himself Worthy (A Mansfield Park Continuation)

  About the Author

  Leenie Brown has always been a girl with an active imagination, which, while growing up, was a both an asset, providing many hours of fun as she played out stories, and a liability, when her older sister and aunt would tell her frightening tales. At one time, they had her convinced Dracula lived in the trunk at the end of the bed she slept in when visiting her grandparents!

  Although it has been years since she cowered in her bed in her grandparents’ basement, she still has an imagination which occasionally runs away with her, and she feeds it now as she did then ─ by reading!

  Her heroes, when growing up, were authors, and the worlds they painted with words were (and still are) her favourite playgrounds! Now, as an adult, she spends much of her time in the Regency world, playing with the characters from her favourite Jane Austen novels and those of her own creation.

  When she is not traipsing down a trail in an attempt to keep up with her imagination, Leenie resides in the beautiful province of Nova Scotia with her two sons and her very own Mr. Brown (a wonderful mix of all the best of Darcy, Bingley, and Edmund with a healthy dose of the teasing Mr. Tilney and just a dash of the scolding Mr. Knightley).

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