Posted on Saturday, 1 May 1999
Author's Note: With thanks to Marks and Laura for their food contributions, and with the utmost humbleness, I dedicate this story for Bill, as he introduced me to this song and thus inspired this happy little story. Enjoy this 1st of May! (at least, still in Central Time!)
| The Lusty Month of May,
from Camelot, by Lerner & Loewe
Tra la! It's May!
Whence this fragrance wafting through the air?
CHORUS
Tra la! It's May!
| It's time to do
A wretched thing or two, And try to make each precious day One you'll always rue! It's May! It's May! The month of "yes you may," The time for every frivolous whim, Proper or "im." It's wild! It's gay! A blot in every way. The birds and bees with all of their vast Amorous past Gaze at the human race aghast, The lusty month of May.
CHORUS
When all the world is brimming with fun,
CHORUS
|
Usually, Mr. Collins found much to occupy himself with in the mornings at the breakfast table; once he had sat down, he usually did not rise for several hours after tucking away tremendous amounts of foodstuffs. However, this day Mr. Collins was not present, nor Charlotte, Maria, or even a meal. The only things left on the table were several bowls of pudding, and a note addressed to herself; the handwriting giving away the fact that the writer was Charlotte. Curious, she opened it.
"Dear Lizzie-
"I am very sorry, but neither Maria nor I can come down today; we both are indisposed; also, Mr. Collins found he had to depart to Rosings. I hope you will get anything you need from the servants, and will enjoy your day. You must forgive this note; I am very busy and must finish this quickly.
"In haste,
"Charlotte."
Now, usually, Elizabeth was not greatly fond of pudding. She had been forced to eat it as a young child and had never enjoyed it, but today she found herself able to eat vast quantities of the dish; even the despised Yorkshire pudding was eaten. Once done with breakfast, she rose from the table and decided a walk was in order to aid her digestion of the meal, feeling quite . . . lively.
On this same day, perhaps a little earlier than Elizabeth's rising, Darcy woke up, taking a deep breath. The night before, he had felt a little blue. It also happened that he had felt a little blue the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that, and the day before that. When he stopped to think about it, he had not been feeling quite well for several months. However, this day seemed . . . nicer . . . than all previous days. He felt strong; his sleep had been deep and peaceful. He felt . . . well, good. Jumping out of bed, he rang for his valet and dressed with an extra spark of energy, even whistling a jumpy little tune to himself.
Racing down the stairs, he noticed something that shocked him. He rubbed his eyes, unsure of whether this was some odd nightmare-it appeared that Lady Catherine was embracing Mr. Collins in an all-too-friendly manner! As a matter of fact, it was positively indecent!
"Aunt Catherine? Is that you?" he called out, his voice betraying disgust, shock, and a tiny bit of admiration for how quickly she could whip around and adjust her hat with its five feathers and dead bird.
"Darcy! Yes, of course it is me! I am surprised to see you downstairs so early. I do not advyse your staying up so late, then waking early. A person should have at least nine hours of sleep, I believe."
"Indeed, Lady Catherine! I always make sure to sleep nine hours exactly!" called Collins, struggling to pull his shirt back down from its place wrapped around his head.
Darcy averted his eyes, feeling queasy in his stomach. "Excuse me-I am feeling a bit hungry, and will go to breakfast now," he said slowly, walking out of the room without looking in the direction of his aunt and her paramour. He heard his aunt call out to him, saying, "Save us some pudding, Darcy!" and an additional cry of, "Oh, my lambkin, come to me!" that made him shiver in his heavy wool coat.
Upon arriving in the dining room, he was treated to the sight of Charlotte Collins and his cousin Fitzwilliam in a highly compromising position upon the dining table.
"RICHARD!" he cried, even more shocked.
"DARCY!" cried the couple, quickly pulling themselves into order.
Darcy was speechless, especially after seeing Mr. Collins and his aunt. "I will not ask any questions nor say anything, Richard, except please, do this elsewhere."
The only supplication of him in return was from Mrs. Collins. "May we take the pudding with us?"
Darcy felt his stomach stir, and quickly calmed it. "You may with my blessing, but you are requested to leave some for Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins."
Thus, a few bowls were removed from the table, and Richard and Charlotte quickly retired from the scene. Darcy, once they were gone, shuddered eloquently, and forbore from touching any of the bowls of the pudding, but noticed an untouched loaf of bread, and quickly picked that up. He then looked to see what jams there were, but only found a substance that tasted like hazelnuts and chocolate. "Mmm . . . tasty! A lovely nutty flavor!" he thought to himself, coating the substance on in generous quantities. Once done with his meal, he rose also from the table, and decided upon taking a walk, where he (hopefully) might be spared such scenes as he was greeted with earlier.
All I know is that I hope I don't see Anne this morning! he thought to himself as he began to journey along through the gardens to the fields beyond.
As he walked, he felt his former energy returning to him, and merrily he began to skip down the primrose path before him. He felt . . . well, good. Everything seemed brighter and more beautiful; life seemed happy, cheerful, gay, even! He began to grin, and started skipping higher and higher.
However, with all of this skipping, he began to feel a bit tired. His wool coat was a little hot; and while usually he would bear this cross, he found himself taking off his coat, and loosening his tightly-tied cravat. Once done, he felt better. No wonder I haven't been feeling so good! I need to relax a little bit. He then sat down for a moment, plucking a few flowers out of the ground. Without thinking about it, he wove them into a little crown and placed them on his head. He then removed his shoes and socks and sprang up, and for no reason, clapped his hands and turned a cartwheel. He then felt energetic, and quickly began to run back along the path, the crown of daisies still upon his head.
However, he quickly pulled up short, his eyes nearly bulging from their sockets, when he saw in the grass rolling about his cousin Anne with Thomas the fortysomething-year-old stable boy!
"Eww! What is happening today?" he exclaimed, and began to run in the opposite direction as fast as possible.
Elizabeth's walk was quite eventful. She had seen many of Charlotte's servants frolicking in the fields; some of them engaged in most improper behavior!-the worst of it was that she believed that she had seen Maria among them! Is Lady Lucas aware of what activities her daughter is engaging in? she wondered, and also-Has she learned this behavior from Lydia?? She began to realize that the safest place to look on this day was at the path directly in front of her, if she wanted to avoid seeing things a girl of her position and years should not see.
However, this also prevented her from seeing Mr. Darcy running in her direction, craning his neck wildly to watch behind him. It so happened that since neither was looking in front of them, they crashed into each other and tumbled over together, ending in an undignified heap.
"Mr. Darcy!" cried Elizabeth, not a little outraged. "How dare you knock me down in this discourteous way? How inconsiderate can you be?"
However, Mr. Darcy was not paying attention to this . . . the only things he found himself noticing was how nice Elizabeth's hair curled, framing her fine eyes with loverly dark curls. His emotions stirred . . . he felt a burning welling up, and he quickly silenced her lovely voice by pressing his lips to her own voluptuous ones.
"Oh!" cried Elizabeth, looking up at him. His hair was rustled; he was wearing a thin white linen shirt, and she could see a little bit of his chest. He also was wearing a woven crown of daisies on his head crookedly, and he looked quite young and . . . handsome. She found herself in need of a deep breath, and took one.
"You know, you are a very presumptuous, intolerable man . . ." she said, her voice weak.
"And you're not so bad yourself," commented Darcy. He felt . . . well, good. He knew he had done something quite shameless, and felt rather pleased about it. "Miss Bennet, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you!"
Elizabeth, while feeling that she probably should refuse the man upon moral principles, began to consider what a lovely kisser he was, and how nice it would be for him to kiss her again . . . and to engage in improper conduct with her. She quickly made her decision.
"I shall allow you to do so, Mr. Darcy, after we have engaged in extensive improper conduct!"
He beamed. "Of course, my lambkin!" And so, they did, and were all the happier for it.
Finis.