by Olivia Kane
“Married? To whom?” Aunt Phillips exclaimed.
“He is engaged to his cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh,” Mr. Collins said.
“Although he never mentions it. Notice your surprise? He hides the fact for his own benefit,” Elizabeth declared.
“Theirs is a long established love that does not require announcing,” Mr. Collins hastened to add. “Their union was the most fervent wish of their mothers, who were sisters. Sadly, Mr. Darcy’s mother is no longer with us and Darcy has every intention of honoring her wish.”
“Just today Georgiana informed me that his aunt is pressing the couple to set a date,” Elizabeth said. “I am sure the banns are being prepared. He will be a married man imminently.”
The picnickers did not know what to make of this news.
Elizabeth added, “Please, do not be gloomy. I have word that Mr. Bingley is soon to be back in residence at Netherfield Park. His return will make us all forget Mr. Darcy.”
The group remained silent until Mr. Phillips said, “Forgive me dear Elizabeth, but it appears that you are the only one here that wants to forget Mr. Darcy.”
“It is only for your own protection. I care so little for him I am completely indifferent to whether he comes or goes or marries or not,” Elizabeth stated.
“You can hardly claim to be indifferent to the man when you talk so often of him,” Aunt Phillips teased.
Mr. Phillips replied, “From my vantage point, it appears that Mr. Darcy has befriended all of us in order to be closer to you. And while we are fawning over his every word he seems only half here; the other half of him is clearly attuned to you. A man of his wealth could surely have had his solicitor repay us for our losses. But then he would have missed out on seeing a certain young lady, I venture to say,” he chuckled.
Mr. Bennet, usually quiet on the topic of matrimonial pursuits, added, “I have yet to see the young man who marries on the direction of an old aunt.”
“Nevertheless, if I were you, Lizzy, I would take him up on his offer to visit Pemberley,” Aunt Phillips suggested. “As your feelings for him may change upon viewing it.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Thank you for the suggestion, but please refrain from such conversations in front of our dear friend Mr. Collins. He understands how such speculation injures Lady Catherine and her daughter. The marriage will happen and there is no reason to suspect otherwise. Shall we pack up?”
Chapter 18
Elizabeth awoke the next morning with renewed vigor.
It is worth noting how my spirits always rise when there is no chance of running into Mr. Darcy.
The day matched her mood, with opulent sunlight and a playful breeze. Immediately after breakfast, she recruited Jane to join her in a walk to Meryton. They were a quarter of the way into their route when an oncoming carriage required they step out of the lane.
It slowed as it approached and the top of a bonnet poked out. Elizabeth immediately recognized the over-adorned headwear as belonging to Miss Georgiana Darcy.
“Good morning, Miss Bennet,” Georgiana greeted them as the carriage slowed to a stop.
“What a surprise! We thought you would be on your way at this hour,” Elizabeth said.
“Soon,” she replied. “But first, I had an urgent need to speak to you.”
Elizabeth said, “I am happy to talk.”
Georgiana rapped on the door and told the driver she wished to get out.
“Please wait.”
Once descended, she smiled at Jane and said, “I am Miss Georgiana Darcy. Pleased to meet you.”
“And I am Miss Jane Bennet. Pleased to meet you,” Jane replied.
“I must be quick as Fitzwilliam is anxious to depart and I begged his indulgence to delay one hour. But my conscience will not rest until I say what I am about to say, as it is my most fervent wish that my brother be understood by the young lady whom he admires most. He has done so much for me, and I only have little ways in which to repay him.”
“Then please, relieve your conscience but understand that little can be said that would change my mind,” Elizabeth replied.
“It is about an embarrassing incident that concerns my brother and Wickham. I pray that you are both trustworthy and that what I am to say you will not tell a soul?”
Jane and Elizabeth assured her.
“The truth is that last year, when I was in residence in Ramsgate with my companion, Mrs. Younge, Wickham arrived in town and abused my affection in the hope of securing my fortune. Naively, since we grew up together, I believed his feelings for me to be true and was on the verge of eloping with him when my brother arrived. He immediately sensed my air of concealment and once confronted, I could not deceive him. I am forever grateful that my brother was there to intervene, but as he is protective of my reputation we may never speak the real truth of Wickham’s character.”
Jane could not hide her astonishment and gasped loudly. “Miss Darcy, how dreadful for you. That someone you trusted would try to ruin you.”
Elizabeth fought to convey her feelings of surprise and shame. She never imagined that there was more to the story between Darcy and Wickham.
“This incident is not known to even our closest friends,” Georgiana continued. “And perhaps it is a testament to both of you that I felt compelled to let you know. Other long-term acquaintances, that appear to be our close friends, are not so trustworthy.
“If I am speaking plainly, it is two other sisters, Caroline Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, whom I keep this secret from. I have reason to be cautious of them, as they are unrelenting gossips that manipulate their brother Bingley to their own ends. While we appear to be great friends, let me assure you that I know when I am being used, and I feel that way often among them.”
Elizabeth reached out and touched Georgiana’s arm gently. “Thank you, Miss Darcy, for honoring us with your confidence. We will not betray you.”
“Now I must return to the inn as Fitzwilliam is waiting but I do so in peace. I am not asking you to change your mind regarding my brother. I only ask that you believe me. My brother has made it his priority to protect my reputation and he would rather die than expose the true character of Wickham. Please do not hold this against him.”
Georgiana nodded to both and then walked with urgency back to the carriage. Once she was settled inside, it turned quickly back toward Meryton and soon disappeared over a small rise in the road.
Chapter 19
Mr. Collins, away from his pastoral duties for far too long, received a missive from Lady Catherine demanding his immediate return to Hunsford, with or without a wife.
Upon receiving her summons, he came to Longbourn and fell on one knee before Mary.
“Miss Mary Bennet, it would please Lady Catherine immensely if you were to do me the honor of becoming my wife.”
Mary looked quizzically down at Mr. Collins.
“Mr. Collins, while I am sensible of the honor of your proposal, I cannot accept it. The reason is that, sadly, there are certain qualities I desire in a husband that you do not possess. First off, I require a man of letters. Although you obviously posses the necessary education to enter religious life, your intellectual curiosity is lacking and gives me great uneasiness.”
“Oh, goodness. It does?” he asked, suddenly bewildered.
“Yes. I do not wish to always be the one teaching; I would like to learn something from my spouse as well but throughout the whole of our recent acquaintance, I have waited in vain to see you express an interest in any type of learning beyond Fordyce’s Sermons. You brought no books of your own nor did you buy any while here.”
Mr. Collins looked blankly at Mary.
“I also found that you talk too much. Constant conversation requires an influx of new information, but I find your topics limited to that of your patroness and the beauty of her home and its extensive grounds. I cannot marry a man who can only speak of a few subjects. I require, at the minimum, six topics of interest. They can be your pick, be they the classics, poetry
and literature, horticulture, astronomy, drawing, music, geography, archeology, agriculture. On these subjects, you must expand your mind. If you were to prove to me your dedication in this matter, then I will consider your offer.”
Mr. Collins, taking her answer as a yes, rose joyfully and consented to seek the improvement she requested.
“Miss Mary Bennet, your efforts to improve me bode well as a future spouse. I will take your leave immediately and return soon to prove my affection by becoming a more learned man than I am now.”
“I will not be impressed by a very quick return for the type of works I expect you to read take more than a few weeks. I promise to wait for six months and in that time accept no other offers, in the hope that you can return to me with a much-improved mind,” she stated with calm conviction.
“Six months it is, my lady.”
Agreeing, he bowed and, with much concern that he had displeased Lady Catherine by his extended stay in Meryton, issued copious goodbyes and took his leave.
“Mary, do you honestly mean to marry him?” Kitty asked aghast as soon as the door slammed.
“I intend to pay him the courtesy of evaluating his improvement. If he is able to do as I request then I anticipate an entirely different Mr. Collins returning. As I cannot predict how his future incarnation will present, I can hardly predict how I will behave in his presence.”
Elizabeth said, “I applaud your disposal of Mr. Collins, dear sister. You have sent him off on a grave mission and ensured that we will be free of him for at least half a year.”
Jane rose from her seat, smiling. “Now we have Mr. Bingley’s society to look forward to. He wrote me again to say he has arrived at Netherfield safely and looks forward to seeing us all at the ball.”
“How splendid!” Lydia exclaimed.
Elizabeth looked up. “I am curious to meet this set of his.”
Jane smiled. “He writes fondly of them. Let me read you their names,” she said, unfolding his letter. “Here they are: Lewis, Westinham, Martin and Taylor.”
“But does he say if anyone is titled?” Lydia asked. “How I would love a title. Lady Lydia Whomever of Wherever.”
“Mr. Bingley doesn’t say.”
“I am tired of officers and clergymen. What a mundane future they offer,” Lydia whined.
“They sound like a refreshing change from that dull Mr. Darcy. They must all be as charming as Bingley,” Kitty predicted.
“Do you think we will fight over them?” Elizabeth teased.
“Goodness, I hope not. As there are four of them I predict there will be more than enough to go around,” Jane laughed.
“And they shall love to dance as much as Bingley, I hope!” Kitty said.
Just then, Mrs. Bennet arrived home from her trip into Meryton with very high spirits.
“New lace for everyone,” she announced as she passed out her purchases.
“Thank you, Mamma,” the sisters replied gaily.
After a moment she paused and said, “Mary, where is Mr. Collins today? Gone for a walk?”
“Lady Catherine had need of him, and he left for Rosings Park immediately. There is a note from him on the mantle for you,” Jane said.
“A note? What do I care about a note? Mary, has he left without making you an offer?”
“No, Mamma, the offer was made.”
“Oh thank goodness! And you accepted?” She gave her daughter a cold stare.
“Not readily, Mamma.”
“Oh, my goodness,” she began fanning herself. “Not again! I feel the palpitations coming on.”
“Wait. Do not collapse but try to listen. I merely told him that I could not marry him unless he engaged his mind on some topics other than his patroness or her estate. He readily accepted my advice and promises to return as a well-read man in six months time.”
“What nonsense is this my child? Whoever heard of such an edict? I will be dead before his mind improves. Write him back and accept him this minute.”
“I’m sorry, Mamma, but I cannot.” Mary was determined.
Mrs. Bennet stared angrily at Mary for a full minute then walked to the side table where she picked up a basket of knitting and walked swiftly out of the room without another word.
“Mamma is finally running out of admonishments regarding Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth laughed.
Lydia jumped up. “Mary, play some music, please. I suddenly feel like singing.”
Chapter 20
The days preceding the Netherfield ball were some of the longest, most tedious hours on record. Jane was convinced that the mantle clock was broken and took to staring at it relentlessly.
Finally, the pleasurable evening arrived and adorned with new lace and fresh hopes, the Bennet family made their way to Netherfield Park. Bingley made no attempt to hide his enthusiasm for his return to Meryton society. His every greeting was issued with an abundance of good feeling; his every handshake firm and genuine but all who were there to witness it said his eyes shone brightest upon seeing Miss Jane Bennet.
Four unfamiliar faces hovered behind him until Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, “Who are these handsome young gentlemen you have brought with you? Please, make us wait no longer to be introduced.”
“Very well!” Bingley exclaimed and he eagerly made the introductions. As soon as Bingley uttered the name “Viscount Westinham,” Lydia’s eyes lit up. Westinham was a dapper-looking fellow who laughed just as much, maybe even more, than Bingley. Immediately, Lydia adjusted her lace to sit lower.
“Welcome to Meryton, my lord,” Lydia said, smiling coyly and pushing herself in front of her other sisters, effectively blocking them from his sight. “I hope you love to dance as much as our Mr. Bingley here does.”
“I do love to dance,” he responded, his eyes merry at being singled out by the pretty young girl. “May I be so bold as to have the first dance with you?”
Lydia batted her eyelashes and replied with alacrity, “Why, thank you. You are too kind.”
Bingley’s old friends were an animated set with energy to spare. They danced with enthusiasm, they clapped with enthusiasm, and they drank with just as much enthusiasm. Kitty and Lydia screamed with delight at their vigor on the dance floor but after being twirled with a little too much force, Elizabeth began to be dizzy. She began to fear being accidentally hurled into the hearth by a well-meaning but inebriated partner.
They broke for refreshments and Elizabeth was horrified to see the young men guzzle more wine and shout exponentially louder. She had not expected Bingley’s set to be so wild and was happy to gain some distance from them by sitting at a table with only her sisters. Bingley and Jane were missing from the room, having wandered off together happily reconnecting.
Fatigued by the first part of the evening, she appreciated the break with her family circle. But Lydia could not long endure the interruption to her flirting and before long she motioned the young men over to join them.
“What beautiful countryside there is for riding in Hertfordshire! We have never been here before,” Taylor said, his breath smelling of spirits stronger than the wine provided by their host. “Bingley boasted so much that we were inclined to disbelieve him.”
“Heavens! Did you ride all afternoon?” Lydia asked.
“Yes, except for a quick stop at the corner house to refuel our stomachs and wet our lips,” Westinham said. “Lewis had a few too many and his horse was not having it on the ride back.” The men howled at the memory.
Lewis held up his hand in protest and said, “For the record, I did not get thrown. Almost, but not quite.”
Kitty and Lydia giggled at their antics but Elizabeth was tiring quickly of their loud company and the effort it required of her to look amused at their stories of drinking and riding. She was just about to excuse herself when Westinham added, “How surprised we were to hear the news about Wickham getting caught red-handed.”
“Mr. George Wickham? Our Wickham? You know him?” Kitty cried out.
“Oh, so everyone kn
ows the scoundrel?” Westinham chuckled, eliciting a boisterous round of laughter.
Elizabeth was intrigued and momentarily put off her departure. “How do you know him?”
“An old Cambridge chum,” Westinham explained. “If he wasn’t protected by Darcy I dare say he’d have been sent down his first year.”
“Darcy? You don’t mean Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire?” Lydia exclaimed.
“Yes, that’s the man. How he put up with that relation is a mystery,” Taylor said.
“For a wealthy man he has the forbearance of a saint,” Lewis added.
“They are not related,” Elizabeth clarified.
“I beg your pardon, but I am sure they were,” Westinham said.
“No. I believe I am correct is saying Wickham is the son of Darcy’s father’s steward,” Elizabeth explained.
“You were all at university with Mr. Darcy?” Kitty asked.
Westinham replied, “Yes, but he is also an old family friend as our estates are adjacent.”
“Are they? How fascinating,” Elizabeth said.
“Mr. Darcy is a great friend to my father,” Lydia bragged. “He is even invited to Pemberley to fish.”
“When? I dare say I would love to join them,” Westinham exclaimed.
Just then the call to resume dancing went out and the party stood up from their chairs quickly. Elizabeth, fearing for her equilibrium, was disinclined to dance at that point and held back at the table as the room cleared and the guests made their way toward the warm ballroom.
Jane suddenly ran into the room, scanning the thinning crowd. Seeing Elizabeth, she threaded her way through the scattered chairs, approaching as quickly as her skirts would allow.
“Oh, Elizabeth!” she exclaimed. Her cheeks were flushed and she sat down next to Elizabeth and exclaimed with exhilaration, “Mr. Bingley has proposed, and I have had the happy honor to accept!”
A rush of joy flooded Elizabeth and she grabbed her sister’s hand. “This is happy news, indeed. When, how?”