by Jann Rowland
“Though I do not know when I shall travel there again,” said Elizabeth, reflecting it was the literal truth, though it hid the current state of affairs. “One cannot always expect to be the center of such a family’s attention; I would not wish to be accused of selfishness.”
“Quite,” said Mr. Collins, happier than he had been a moment ago, though Mrs. Bennet was the reverse, frowning in annoyance. “It is well you have considered that aspect, Cousin, for I would not wish to be required to intervene.”
It was all Elizabeth could do to avoid laughing in Mr. Collins’s face. As he seemed to be satisfied, she decided it was better to avoid tempting fate and left the subject alone. Mary, who had said little that evening, was watching them all, and for a moment Elizabeth wondered if she had understood something more in Elizabeth’s comments than her husband. It was possible, for Mary was intelligent, unlike her buffoon of a husband. Whatever Mary thought, however, remained unsaid, and Elizabeth allowed the subject to rest.
“How long are we to have the pleasure of your company, Lizzy?” asked Mary.
Though she had hoped not to speak of this matter so soon, Elizabeth could not now avoid the question. A glance at her mother and Mr. Collins informed her that the former wished for her company, while the other wished for her out of his home. The truth could only make one happy, but she would not hide it now Mary had asked her.
“Jane has asked me to stay with her and I have accepted.” Turning to her mother, Elizabeth smiled and patted her hands. “I know you wish for my company, Mother, but I shall only stay a few days and then go to Netherfield to offer my support to Jane.”
“Another of my daughters shall go to the north!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet. “You are all heartless to refrain from thinking of your mother’s nerves.”
“Mama,” said Elizabeth, again patting her mother's hands, “do you not recall you shall be welcome to visit? Jane wishes you to consent to come to Hazelwood.”
That brought Mrs. Bennet up short, and she smiled, though it was laced with thought. The married couple in their midst garnered Elizabeth’s attention, and she turned to them, seeing Mary’s acceptance and her husband’s pompous complacency.
“I understand that you wish to live with Jane, Lizzy,” said Mary. “Do not think you are not welcome here, however, for we should like to host you whenever you wish.”
Though Mr. Collins scowled, his conceit soon returned when Elizabeth said: “Thank you, Mary. I expect I will return at some point, but at present, I am happy to stay with Jane.”
Mary nodded and did not raise the subject again that evening.
The next morning, the Bingley carriage was sighted approaching Longbourn, and Elizabeth, eager to be reunited with her closest sister, darted from the house, soon finding herself in Jane’s arms. Laughter mingling with tears, the two sisters clung to each other, and in Jane’s words, Elizabeth discovered her sister’s excellent information concerning her joyous news, no doubt gleaned from her guests.
“I am so happy for you, Lizzy,” whispered Jane. “He is an excellent man; I know your life with him shall be full of joy.”
“Yes, Jane, I am certain it shall.” Out of the corner of Elizabeth’s eye she saw Mr. Collins exiting the house beside Mary, and Elizabeth cautioned her sister. “It would not do to make Mr. Collins aware of the matter while I am yet at Longbourn, so please say nothing of it.”
Jane nodded but fixed Elizabeth with a questioning look. “I hope you do not mean to stay long?”
“No, Jane, only a few days,” was all Elizabeth could say before Mr. Collins was close enough to overhear.
It was fortunate that Mr. Bingley spoke, deflecting any attention Mr. Collins might have had for their whispered conversation. “If I did not know better, I might have thought they were separated for years, instead of the month I know it to be.”
“It is always thus amongst the closest of siblings,” intoned Mr. Collins in his pompous tones. “Such bonds of sisterly affection cannot but be pleasing, for harmony is to be prized, and contention, deplored.”
Mr. Bingley, who Elizabeth knew did not think much of Mr. Collins, contented himself with a nod. Then Jane turned to Georgiana, who had been standing to the side, watching the reunion with amusement, and Georgiana obliged her by asking for an introduction to the family, which Jane offered at once. Though Mr. Collins was eager to throw himself at Miss Darcy’s feet, praising her to the skies, Mrs. Collins herded them all into the sitting-room where they could undertake their visit in a more comfortable setting.
When they were ensconced in the sitting-room, Elizabeth sat close to Jane, with Georgiana attending them, eager to give and exchange news. Of course, the one matter of which Jane wished to speak could not be contemplated, which meant her sister contented herself with an account of her stay at Snowlock and responded with some of their doings since their return to Hertfordshire. This comprised their efforts to prepare for their move to the north and a few other anecdotes of their time since their return.
“I have always wished to have you with us, Mama,” said Jane to Mrs. Bennet when the subject arose. “Hazelwood will please you, for I have an apartment chosen for you that I think would meet your approval.”
Mrs. Bennet, thoughtful more than excited, said: “Perhaps when you have settled would be best? I should not wish to make the move any more difficult.”
“Nonsense, Mother,” said Jane, setting such concerns to the side. “If you wish to remain at Longbourn at present, I shall not attempt to gainsay you, but should you wish to accompany us, I should not be unhappy to have you.”
“Then . . . Well, I shall . . . consider your offer,” stammered Mrs. Bennet. “Thank you, Jane.”
“It is no trouble, Mother. We all wish for nothing more than your happiness.”
“Indeed, nothing is more important to us all,” inserted Mr. Collins. “Should you wish to accompany the Bingleys to the north, we should not attempt to hold you here. Perhaps it would be best if you accompanied them.”
That this was a blatant attempt to encourage his mother-in-law to depart his home, no one misunderstood, least of all Mrs. Bennet. It was more of Mr. Collins’s absurdities, however, so they all remained silent in the face of it, other than Mrs. Bennet’s stiffly spoken: “I shall consider it.”
One matter of which Elizabeth learned shocked her, for she had not thought it possible. When Jane mentioned it, Elizabeth could only exclaim: “Miss Bingley has a suitor?”
“So Mr. Hurst has informed my husband,” said Jane to Mr. Bingley’s nod.
“That is a surprise to be certain,” said Elizabeth, “for I should not have thought matters would develop so quickly.”
“It amuses me to hear you say it, Lizzy,” said Jane, “for I should have thought you, of all people, would understand that matters such as this can sometimes proceed at a great pace.”
Though Elizabeth knew it was an oblique reference, for a moment she worried that Mr. Collins might have seen through it. However, the gentleman said nothing, watching them all with a hint of self-satisfaction in his manner, and while Mary might have suspected something, she remained silent.
“Do you think anything will come of it?” asked Elizabeth, hoping to turn the company’s attention from Jane’s statement.
“Thus far she has welcomed him,” said Mr. Bingley, “though that might be Hurst’s insistence. After her departure from London, it seems great . . . changes have come over my sister, such that her outlook has changed. The man who is calling on her is of some consequence, according to Hurst, so I hope her previous ambitions have been put to rest.”
“Caroline will arrive at Netherfield within the week,” added Jane.
“Does she wish to be away from her suitor at this time?” asked Elizabeth. “It sounds like a critical juncture.”
“I believe she wishes some time away from Mr. Hurst’s estate,” replied Jane. “She will stay with us long enough to assist us in our move, then after some time with us in Derbyshire, she will r
eturn to Norfolk.”
In the privacy of her mind, Elizabeth wondered if Miss Bingley was not intending to use this visit as one final attempt to persuade Mr. Darcy. If she was, she would find nothing more than a rude awakening, for Elizabeth did not intend to release him. Still, whatever happened with Miss Bingley would happen; Elizabeth could not avoid it, so she determined not to worry about it either.
“I apologize, Mr. Bingley,” said Mr. Collins, interjecting into the conversation, “but I see Mr. Darcy has not accompanied you today, though his sister has graced us with her presence. Is Mr. Darcy indisposed?”
Mr. Bingley laughed. “Seeing Darcy indisposed at all is an uncommon occurrence; he is as healthy as a horse.”
Mr. Collins did not know how to interpret Mr. Bingley’s jest, and so did not respond.
“Darcy went on to London early this morning, as he had some business which he meant to see to at once. I would imagine he will return to Netherfield tonight, or perhaps tomorrow morning.”
“Ah, I see,” said Mr. Collins. “Then we should not wonder at his comings and goings, for these noble men often have lofty concerns, the likes of which those of us on a lower level cannot understand. When he returns, please inform him he is welcome to visit at any time convenient.”
“I shall do so,” replied Mr. Bingley.
“Yes, his business is of the utmost urgency and importance,” said Georgiana with a sly look at Elizabeth. “But I expect him to hurry back as soon as may be, for there is every reason to stay in Hertfordshire when his business is completed.”
Though Elizabeth knew to what her friend referred, she shook her head, and Georgiana seemed to know she could not approach the subject any closer than she already had. The visit had almost come to an end by that time, with only a few more moments of conversation exchanged. Then, when they were about to leave, Jane took the opportunity to ensure they would be in company again at once.
“Mary, I should like you all to join us for dinner at Netherfield two days from now. Please say you will.”
All at once, Elizabeth realized that Mary had been watching her, a hint of speculation in her countenance. When Jane spoke, however, Mary nodded, but her husband prevented an immediate answer.
“We should not wish to impose upon you when you are preparing for your departure.”
Though Mr. Collins had spoken to Jane, Elizabeth thought, though she could not determine why, the gentleman’s words were directed to her, for she saw him give her a pointed look. What they could be about, Elizabeth could not say, but Jane’s rebuttal distracted her.
“It is no trouble, Mr. Collins. I am well able to provide dinner to my family, even with our current situation.”
“Thank you, Jane,” said Mary, interjecting before her husband could speak again. “We accept your invitation.”
“Thank you, Mary. Then we shall see you again tomorrow.”
The Netherfield party rose and after saying their farewells—Elizabeth shared affectionate partings with both Jane and Georgiana—they departed. Fatigued, Elizabeth excused herself to her room for a time, eager to be away from Mr. Collins. The gentleman did not prevent her, but she noticed several times that evening, when she was back in his company, that his eyes were often on her. Though Elizabeth did not know what to make of it, his scrutiny made her skin crawl.
Chapter XXX
Among Elizabeth’s reasons for staying at Longbourn for a few days was the desire to say farewell to the beloved vistas of her youth. An active woman, Elizabeth had spent the greater part of her youth walking the paths of Longbourn, first with her father’s blessing and amusement, and then in defiance of Mr. Collins’s wishes. As Elizabeth had reserved the morning after her arrival for Jane’s visit, she used the next day as her opportunity to begin that process. In that, however, she was frustrated.
Despite being a former parson, Elizabeth had never observed Mr. Collins as being active in the morning, for even when he had stayed with them before wedding Mary, Mr. Collins had often risen late. This continued after coming into his inheritance, such that Elizabeth saw him in the early morning but rarely, which had accounted for her ability to depart on her walks whenever she wished. That morning, however, Elizabeth was not awake early enough to avoid him, and while it had not been his practice to outright forbid her excursions—he was more apt to whine about them after she returned—the man blocked her when she attempted to depart.
“As I have so often informed you in the past, Cousin,” said he in his nasally, pompous voice, “it is not proper for a young lady to walk this way and that over the grounds of an estate without a chaperone.”
“The Earl of Matlock did not agree with you, Cousin,” said Elizabeth with some asperity, knowing it would be best to remain silent, but unable to keep her own counsel. “At both Pemberley and Snowlock I walked as I saw fit, as long as I informed them when I was leaving and when I expected to return.”
“Another example of your impertinence and your inability to comport yourself in a manner befitting a young gentlewoman.” Mr. Collins sniffed with disdain. “Regardless, I must speak with you on a matter which cannot be delayed. You will oblige me and step into my room.”
“Perhaps it would be best if we discussed the matter among us all.” Mary, who Elizabeth had not noticed, stepped forward, fixing Elizabeth with an even look. “Come, Husband, let us retire to the parlor for this discussion.”
For a moment Elizabeth thought Mr. Collins might object, though for Mr. Collins to contradict Mary in anything was a rarity. At length, however, he nodded, and with a few more ostentatious comments, he led them into the room. Mrs. Bennet, who was sitting there already, looked up at their entrance, and when she saw the grim look sported by Mr. Collins, she turned her gaze to Elizabeth. There was nothing to say—though Elizabeth had every confidence in Mr. Collins’s stupidity, something might have aroused his suspicions, either Elizabeth’s behavior with Mr. Darcy during her arrival or Georgiana’s comment the previous day. The brief smile and nod from Mary did nothing to calm her apprehension.
“Cousin Elizabeth,” said Mr. Collins when they were all seated, “it has come to my attention that it is possible you have not revealed all the events of your stay in the north with Mr. Darcy’s family. While I struggle to understand how a young woman such as you, who is yet underage and dependent upon me for her support, should resort to falsehood, the facts seem incontrovertible. This has led me to insist that you account for yourself, for I will not be treated in this infamous manner.”
“Of what are you speaking, Mr. Collins?” interrupted Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth knew her mother had never been fond of Mr. Collins; she was circumspect when she was not lamenting some ill, knowing the gentleman’s volatility. “Are you accusing Lizzy?”
“Have you missed the obvious signs, Madam?” asked Mr. Collins. “Surely you, who are eager to throw your daughters at anyone wearing pants, cannot have missed her misbehavior toward the Darcy and Fitzwilliam families.”
“I am certain I do not know what you mean, Mr. Collins,” said Elizabeth. “If you will be more explicit, I shall attempt to allay your concerns.”
Mr. Collins eyed Elizabeth with some distaste. “I am not unaware of your disinclination for my company, Cousin. Your lack of respect for me and my position has been apparent from the first moments of our acquaintance.”
“And I have not missed the fact that you wish me and all my family miles from Longbourn,” said Elizabeth. “Yet, for my sister’s sake, I believe we have both attempted to exist together as best we can. Well, you need not worry about that any longer, for I shall soon depart for Jane’s house.”
“Lizzy, do not think you are unwelcome here,” said Mary.
“I know you do not wish me gone,” said Elizabeth, smiling at her sister.
“That is not at issue,” said Mr. Collins, attempting to regain control of the conversation. “What is at issue is your behavior while at the homes of those who are so far above you in society as to be in another world. Can
you defend yourself?”
“As I do not know with what you have charged me, I cannot respond,” said Elizabeth. “If you wish to confirm my behavior in Derbyshire, I suggest you speak with Lord Matlock or Mr. Darcy. Then you will understand how groundless your concerns are.”
“I do not need to take the matter up with either of those illustrious gentlemen,” spat Mr. Collins. “I have all the evidence I require here.”
Elizabeth sighed, regretting the argument which would make matters more difficult for her relations. Though she regretted the inability of the stupid man to remain silent, to allow her a few days in company with her sister and mother, it seemed it was not to be. It was now obvious it would have been better to accept Jane’s advice and Mr. Darcy’s wishes and confine herself to visits with her relations at Longbourn, rather than tempting fate by putting herself under Mr. Collins’s roof.
“It would have been best if I had gone to Netherfield as Jane asked,” said Elizabeth. To Mary, she added: “I know you welcome me, Mary, and I appreciate it. But it seems best that I pack my trunks and go to Jane at once, for I would not wish to introduce strife into your home.”
Mary, it appeared, agreed with her: “Perhaps it is best. If you will see to a note to Jane, informing her of your intentions, I shall direct the servants.”
“Not so hasty, if you please,” said Mr. Collins. As Elizabeth made to rise, the gentleman stood himself and towered over her, preventing her from moving from her position before the sofa. “I have not yet satisfied myself, Cousin, and you will stay here until I have the assurances I require.”
“Mr. Collins, I will thank you not to intimidate my daughter,” said Mrs. Bennet, her voice like the snows of winter.
“If you had raised your daughter to be a credit to us all, it would not be required,” rejoined Mr. Collins.