by Olivia Kane
“Upon my word, Mary, it is a splendid plan. I promise to help you in any way you need,” Lydia offered, anxious that Mary save her from Collins.
“I will help too!” Kitty added, equally anxious.
“Thank you, you are very kind to offer,” Mary replied. “My mind is set.”
Hill commenced the slicing and serving of the cake. She passed each girl a plate and said, “Freshly baked. I must have sensed your early return in my bones, as I had a mind to make Jane’s favorite cake the minute I woke up this morning.”
“Thank you, Hill,” Jane said. “I am glad to be home.”
Elizabeth picked up her fork but her appetite was off.
If only they had the riches of the Darcy family!
How simple their lives would be then. If she were married to Mr. Darcy then none of her sisters would have to submit to an unwanted courtship with the likes of Mr. Collins. If she were the wife of Mr. Darcy, her sisters and mother would never want.
For a split second, she imagined him holding her face in his hands and a rush of pleasant sensations stirred inside her and she caught herself. Ever since their lunch at the Crane Inn, her opinion of his looks had risen greatly; she saw a handsomeness in him that was missing before. But to go so far as to have a romantic thought of him? Something was wrong with her. She was obviously overtired from the journey and her nerves stressed.
She put her fork down and pushed the cake plate away.
“I am tired. The journey was long and the news of Wickham distressing. Please excuse me while I go upstairs,” Elizabeth said, retreating to the safety of her bedroom.
With the door soundly shut and her pillow plumped under her head, she felt obliged to reflect on the circumstances of the unjust world that contributed to Wickham’s downfall and willed herself to feel sympathy, instead of judgment, for her old friend. But her mind would not do as directed for too long; it was bent on wandering and wander it did, repeatedly, to Mr. Darcy.
This would not do.
Instead, she forced herself to remember every cruel thing Mr. Darcy was ever credited with saying until the bad memories outnumbered the dangerous good ones, and Elizabeth felt herself again.
Chapter 15
A letter from Mr. Collins promptly arrived, informing Mr. Bennet of the date of his impending return trip to Longbourn. Mary assured her sisters that their futures were in no danger and soon spirits were elevated back to their typically high level.
Elizabeth and Jane walked to Meryton specifically to hear their Aunt Phillips recount the details of Wickham’s thievery.
“He was stealing right under our noses. We were blind to his ways, as he was always so wickedly charming,” Aunt Phillips said.
“How did they catch him?” Elizabeth asked.
“Apparently, his frequent trips out of town raised suspicions among his companions who noticed a pattern. He was reported, and his commanding officer permitted a search of his rooms where several items were confiscated, intending to be pawned. Sadly, he admitted to already cashing in a set of silver mugs that belonged to Mrs. Thornsby. Word went out to check one’s silver so I opened the cabinet and did an inventory. My silver candlesticks were missing.”
“Can he make restitution?” Jane wondered.
“I do not believe so. His cash is spent and he rang up quite a few debts here in town that he is not able to repay either. How sad to be so desperate as to steal from those who offer you hospitality,” Aunt Phillips sighed.
“He is desperate only because I imagine having been brought up at Pemberley among the finest things, he is not used to having to budget and deny himself,” Elizabeth stated. “I do blame Mr. Darcy, for he withheld a clerical living that Wickham was owed.”
“It was conditional,” Jane reminded Elizabeth. “Mr. Bingley said so.”
The mention of Bingley caught Aunt Phillips’ attention. She was happy to change the subject from Wickham.
“You heard from Mr. Bingley then, my dear?” Aunt Philips asked. There was a lightness in Jane’s demeanor that emboldened her to inquire, otherwise she would have stayed away from the sensitive topic.
Jane beamed. “Yes, he was unexpectedly part of the party at Rosings.”
“And?” Aunt Phillips raised her eyebrow.
Jane blushed but Elizabeth said, “I believe I may tell you with some confidence that he continues to have a high regard for her.”
“I am glad to hear it. Now, tell me more. Your mother spoke with high hopes of one of you becoming engaged to this Mr. Collins. As I would not expect either of my favorite nieces to hold back so long on that type of news, I believe I am safe in assuming that no offer of marriage was accepted.”
“You are correct, although it was not by Mr. Collins’ wish. Lady Catherine de Bourgh did not find either of us fitting to take on the role of parson’s wife,” Elizabeth said with a chuckle. “Can you imagine?”
“How astonishing,” Aunt Philips said.
“But we Bennets are not done with Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth said with a mischievous grin. “As he is to return within the fortnight to complete his hunt for a bride. Mary has volunteered to take him on, conditionally, to protect Kitty and Lydia’s futures. She plans to let him down eventually but Mamma must never know that part of the plan.”
“What a clever girl! I wish her luck and be assured, I am a vault of secrets,” Aunt Philips promised. “But I should like to see firsthand how Mary handles Mr. Collins. He is quite full of himself, and she is not want to correct awkward behavior when she sees it. Shall I host a dinner party to welcome Mr. Collins back and watch the fun? We will make a night of it.”
“Yes, please do. But I caution that you will find no fun in the man,” Elizabeth warned.
“I wish he would stay home and marry some poor young girl from Kent who is as impressed with Rosings as he is, as he talks of nothing else,” Jane mused.
“Was Rosings very fine?” Aunt Philips asked.
“Yes,” Jane said. “Even though Mr. Collins tends to boast incessantly, in this instance his ravings were not unfounded.”
“And what is new with you, Elizabeth?” her aunt prodded. “Any suitors that I should be aware of?”
“No,” Elizabeth said firmly. True to her word, Jane made no mention of Mr. Darcy’s presence at Rosings and for that Elizabeth was grateful. Then, desiring a quick change of topic, she said, “But I do have my updated copy of the Grey’s Guide to Hertfordshire. Now that I am home and clement days are ahead I am anxious to explore. Apparently, there is a path that goes from behind the churchyard and circles past Moore’s farm that gets high marks. I have never walked that particular route.”
“I have always heard that the way to Moore’s farm is particularly charming,” said Mrs. Phillips. “As it is on an overlook it is never quite as muddy as lower elevations.”
“That’s what the guide says as well. Even after moist weather, it is one of the first paths to be passable,” Elizabeth cheered to be talking of hiking again.
“We have had lovely weather, lately. Oh, Lizzie, Jane, I am glad you have returned home to Meryton. There is a little less light in our world when you two are away. Now we can plan walks and dinners and picnics to our heart’s content.”
“And use our fine things freely, now that Wickham is exposed,” Jane added.
“It is good to be home,” Elizabeth added.
* * *
Within the month, Mr. Collins arrived at Longbourn as promised to renew his romantic quest. However, his looks were so altered by his full beard that upon appearing at the front door of Longbourn, Hill barred him from entering until he could thoroughly identify himself.
He entered the drawing room with a little less flourish than on his previous visit. Elizabeth and Jane struggled to remain straight-faced as Kitty, Mary, and Lydia gaped at Mr. Collins’ bearded face. Jane and Elizabeth had vowed not to alert their sisters regarding the change in his appearance in order to see the looks of surprise on their faces and they were rewarded for
their restraint in that moment.
Immediately, he zeroed in on Mary.
“Your older sisters’ grace and beauty is obvious, but I find myself seeking different qualities in a partner. A certain turn of mind, more inclined to scholarly study, can only be considered an asset to a parson’s wife,” he began.
“Mr. Collins, I agree,“ Mary said with an alacrity that took Collins by surprise.
“Do you?” His eyes lit up and his cheeks flushed. “Lady Catherine also believes that a cleric’s wife is a position set apart, requiring the ability to converse on scriptural matters as well as set an example in the areas of humility and modesty.”
“Therein lies the critical difference between my sisters and me. They are fond of ornamentation of dress and attending many balls, yet they do not always display the traits of meekness and modesty our Lord so desires of us.”
Mr. Collins’ exclaimed, “You sound like my venerable patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh!”
The comparison did not sit right with his intended, and Mary corrected him quickly and emphatically.
“Do not sink so low as to think you need to flatter me, Mr. Collins, for the only praise I seek is that which the Lord will award me on that final judgment day.”
“Ah, yes, the final judgment day. I do agree.”
Thus the afternoon progressed, with Mr. Collins babbling and Mary applying a mild correction to many of his statements, which the sisters watched in very good humor. Soon Mrs. Bennet joined the party and seeing Mr. Collins so obviously enthralled with Mary, she sat back and was uncharacteristically reserved for the remainder of the afternoon.
Eventually, Hill appeared in the doorway to announce dinner.
Mr. Collins stood up and offered Mary his arm.
“May I have the honor of escorting you to dinner, Miss Mary Bennet?”
“Thank you very much,” Mary replied. As she exited the drawing room, she looked back at her sisters and winked.
The relief felt by Jane, Elizabeth, Kitty, and Lydia, led to a loud and animated dinner conversation. Mr. Collins, convinced that his return to Longbourn was the source of their joy, boasted that he already considered himself their brother-in-law.
Later that evening, Mary led them all in the evening prayer. As she did so, Mr. Collins gave silent thanks for the wise counsel of Lady Catherine, whose sage advice he never failed to find exceedingly correct.
Chapter 16
“Some nights I prefer a ball, while other nights I am quite content with a private dinner party,” Kitty said slipping on her newest gloves and admiring them.
“I am always in the mood both for a ball and a private dinner,” Lydia countered, twirling her hair as she primped in front of her looking glass.
“It is so sad that the officers are gone from Meryton,” Kitty lamented. “I pray for their swift return.”
“I pray Pappa allows us to all go to Brighton, for there are always officers stationed there,” Lydia said.
“I do wish he’d change his mind! I prayed all last Sunday that he would,” Kitty said. With thoughts of red coats and the sea coast, Kitty and Lydia were quite occupied.
Jane’s voice carried upstairs. “Lydia, Kitty, come down! I have something to tell you.”
“What could it be?” Lydia exclaimed. They took the stairs two at a time, eager for the diversion of Jane’s news.
“I have been the happy recipient of a very long letter from Mr. Bingley. He is to return to Netherfield next week!” Jane exclaimed.
“Oh, is that all?” Kitty scowled.
“That is very nice for you,” Lydia said, “but I could have heard the news anytime and been just as content.”
“No, silly geese. Listen to this part,” Jane replied. “My sisters, I am sorry to relate, will not be pulled away from London. Nor will Mr. Darcy be traveling with me on this occasion; he has plans to return to Pemberley with his sister. Instead, I will be joined at Netherfield by some very good chaps from university.”
“Oh, now that is exciting news!” Lydia exclaimed.
“Did he say how many friends?” Kitty asked.
“No,” Jane answered. “More than one I assume.”
“How nice to think that Mr. Bingley had other friends besides Darcy,” Elizabeth added. Perhaps one of his set could provide the type of sensible companionship she longed for.
“Listen, there is more. I didn’t get to the best part,” Jane said.
“Please inform your sisters that, while my friends are here, I intend to host a ball at Netherfield. They should start preparations now, as I promise an evening that will be the talk of the county.”
Cheers of joy erupted from Lydia and Kitty.
“A Netherfield ball!” Mrs. Bennet said. “I always preferred Bingley of all our suitors.”
“New gentlemen to meet. Surely there must be an heir or two in the mix!” Lydia cried.
“Mamma, isn’t it time for a new dress? We can’t disappoint Mr. Bingley,” Kitty urged.
“You are correct girls. Pretty girls should have more pretty dresses than they have occasions to wear them.”
“How I wish Pappa would let us go to London and buy silk stockings,” Kitty whined.
“What good is a new dress without silk stockings?” Lydia sulked.
“We must make do with what we have and not seek joy in new things, isn’t that correct Mr. Collins?” Mary commented.
“Yes, yes. Very correct,” he mumbled.
“Now back to our lessons,” Mary said.
She was schooling Mr. Collins daily on her in-depth knowledge of geography, astronomy, and poetry and, surprisingly, he submitted. He was daily more and more convinced of the rightness of Mary as his future partner; she would be a useful teacher to the young in the parish. He had never met a young woman with such a commitment to improving her mind. Once Mary even allowed him to enter Mr. Bennet’s study, but all he did was admire the spines of the books. He showed no interest in the titles and did not ask to touch anything.
Seeing Mary in such command of the relationship, Mrs. Bennet relaxed. She was confident she would now have two wedding wardrobes to buy, and that her widowhood would one day be split between her own home of Longbourn and the elegant surroundings of Netherfield. She did not much care for the idea of living with Mary and Mr. Collins, so her heart was set on a life of ease at Netherfield with Jane and Bingley and their lovely children. In fact, she was quite looking forward to it.
Aunt Phillips kept her promise to host a dinner party in honor of Mr. Collins’ return to Longbourn, a compliment Mr. Collins felt deeply. He fussed over his hair and beard so greatly before departing that Mary was forced to admonish him on his vanity. Aunt Phillips met her guests at the door, exclaiming over each lady’s gown or curls and then, with atypical excitement, she whispered, “We have a surprise addition to the dinner party. Would you believe Mr. Darcy?”
Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat.
He had followed her to Meryton! Surely a renewal of his offer was imminent!
With no desire to expose her distress, she composed herself and said simply, “He is here?”
“Yes, such a surprise!” Aunt Phillips said in a low tone. “He called unannounced late this afternoon to make recompense for what Wickham stole. We were quite taken aback by his gentle apology and his sincere desire that we be awarded full and complete restitution. Your uncle and Mr. Darcy fell into such an easy conversation that it was unthinkable not to ask him to join us. After all, what is one more? Truthfully, his manners are so changed from our first acquaintance, I can hardly believe him to be the same person.”
Elizabeth felt immediate relief. He hadn’t followed her to Meryton, after all!
Jane’s concerned gaze went from her sister to her father. The trio had successfully kept the news of Darcy’s declarations of affection from her mother and sisters, believing all their paths were not likely to cross again. But, upon hearing of Darcy’s presence there that night, Mr. Bennet lost his veil of impartiality. H
e immediately excused himself and darted to greet Darcy as quickly as he could.
Resigned to a sudden change in the evening’s tenor, Elizabeth slowly followed her family into the drawing room, where Mr. Darcy sat with Mr. Phillips and the Lucas family. She made a quick curtsy to Mr. Darcy. If he was surprised to see her, he did not reveal it; his manner to her was civil but impersonal.
“Mr. Darcy has generously repaid us for Wickham’s theft,” Mr. Phillips announced.
“And ours as well,” Sir William added. “He has assured us that Wickham will no longer be a threat to our silver, as he has bought him a commission to the regulars in General Wilson’s Northern Regiment.”
“Aha, that will be good for him. A little action on the front line, a little spying, perhaps,” Mr. Bennet chuckled.
Mr. Darcy nodded. “He is an excellent horseman. He will be under the direct command of my friend, so will be forced to fall in line or face the fate of a deserter.”
The men exchanged gentle laughs.
“Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, pardon me for asking, but what is the exact nature of your connection to the Phillips family?” Darcy inquired.
“She is my sister,” Mrs. Bennet said. “And a sweeter, more generous sister does not exist.” Noticing her sister’s quick approval of Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Bennet was suddenly favorably inclined towards him.
“You have a sister, too, I understand, Mr. Darcy?” Mrs. Phillips said.
“Yes, Georgiana is her name. She and her chaperone will soon join me in town and the three of us will go to Pemberley from here. In the meantime, I plan to get my exercise by exploring some of Hertfordshire’s most scenic walking paths.” He made a quick, sidewise glance at Elizabeth.
Elizabeth stared back with alarm. Were the paths in her own hometown now to be sullied by Mr. Darcy? She could not bear a repeat of their encounter in the Rosings garden. Aunt Philips, happily uninformed of her niece’s inner turmoil, made the situation worse.
“Elizabeth and I were planning a walk in the next few days and you must join us. I have never seen a young woman as passionate about her woods and romantic vistas as my dear niece here. What is the name again of that path you wanted to take, Lizzie?”