by Jennifer Joy
Darcy remained silent as he read behind the accusations shooting back and forth between his father and Wickham. It seemed that the rumors they had heard about Wickham ruining a girl in a neighboring county were true. Darcy doubted she was the only one. Having a daughter to protect, Darcy knew his father would withdraw all support of Wickham on the confirmation of such a detestable rumor. In this, he backed his father completely and he looked with disgust at the man he had once considered a friend.
“Mr. Darcy, let us calm ourselves and act like the gentlemen we are. You chose me as your godson because my father was your dearest friend. In honor of his memory, is there not a more agreeable way to handle this?” Wickham squirmed in his chair, his hands open in appeal.
Looking directly at Wickham, Darcy said, “I fully support Father’s decision to cut you off financially. I agree that the church is not a suitable occupation for such a man as you have become. Perhaps the army, with its opportunity for promotion within the ranks, would serve your needs and encourage financial independence. There is a recruitment office north of here and, if we buy you a commission and arrange for your outfitting, I should think you could do quite well.” Darcy looked to his father who saluted in approval.
“That is all fine and good, but I will still be in debt. It will take me years to work at an officer’s meager pay to make good what I owe.” Wickham’s pleading manner turned to anger.
Darcy’s father, taking the idea and running with it, said, “How else will you learn to be responsible for your own actions? It is high time you learned. The discipline and structure of His Majesty’s Army will give you the opportunity to strengthen your character and make you a man your father would have been proud of.”
Father pulled out a piece of paper and started writing. “I am writing to my solicitor. He is to pay for your commission and cover your initial expenses. Nothing more.” Looking at Darcy as he folded and sealed it, he said, “I shall send this in the post immediately, along with the other letter we discussed.” He arched his eyebrow at Darcy, who understood his meaning all too well.
How could he forget? His inheritance.
Wickham was not happy with the arrangement, but he accepted it in a way that put Darcy on edge. Had Wickham made threats and insults, it would have been better. Instead, he walked out of Pemberley with a cold look that Darcy hoped was resignation, not vengeance.
Darcy’s worries were only increased when he saw Wickham out. He bowed to the boy he had grown up with, hoping to see some look of understanding or acceptance. What Darcy got was a cold shoulder as Wickham spun on his heels and left without a word, his hands clenched at his sides.
Chapter 6
Mr. Collins was scheduled to arrive at Longbourn that afternoon. Over a week had passed since meeting Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley and still Elizabeth could not rid her mind of Mr. Darcy. It was disturbing how he managed to irritate her without even being present. Elizabeth had asked Father what Mr. Collins looked like and how his manners were in hopes that he would prove superior to Mr. Darcy in some way. Father had not been encouraging.
Elizabeth had gone over the house and its grounds during the week, making sure everything was in good order and would give a favorable impression.
She watched Jane do her best to calm their mother’s nerves. Thinking that some activity would help pass the time, Elizabeth suggested that Mrs. Bennet take Mary, Kitty, and Lydia into Meryton to visit Aunt Philips, Mrs. Bennet’s sister. A couple hours of gossip over tea and cakes would soothe her mother’s spirits and provide some entertainment for the younger sisters, effectively getting them out of the house so she and Jane could tidy up.
It was easier to arrange the sitting room to its best advantage without so many others to disrupt it.
Before Mr. Bennet could retire to his study, as he surely would for he found great comfort in escaping the realities of life with a good book, Elizabeth pressed him about Mr. Collins. “What is he like, Father? Please, do tell us something.”
Jane, too, stood attentively to hear his reply.
“He… You see, he… I suppose he… Well, that is a very broad question. What specifically do you want to know?” Mr. Bennet shuffled his feet and tugged at his whiskers.
“Is he really as foolish as his reputation implies?” asked Elizabeth.
“Every bit of it. He fawns over his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and views her opinions like some kind of oracle that must be obeyed. It was a struggle to converse with him. Of all of my daughters, I think only Mary could interest herself with his views and I am skeptical about that even.”
That was discouraging.
“What about his looks? Is he handsome?” Elizabeth asked, grasping at straws. She needed to know if there was anything at all pleasant or redeeming about Mr. Collins, for he intended to marry one of the Bennet sisters. As the eldest, Jane stood in the greatest danger.
After an extended pause, Mr. Bennet finally said, “I would not describe him as handsome, dear. It would do the word a disservice. He combs his hair forward in such a way to make one suspect that he is hiding a bald patch. His second chin folds over the top of his collar in an astounding manner. I was hard-pressed not to stare at it.”
“What is left?” Elizabeth threw her hands up in the air, giving up.
Jane, looking as desperate as Elizabeth felt, asked, “Is there nothing nice to say about Mr. Collins? Nothing… encouraging?”
“He bows exceedingly well. That, my dears, is the extent of Mr. Collins’s charm as far as I am concerned.” With that, he entered his study and left his two eldest daughters to ponder their future with such a husband as Mr. Collins.
They sat in stunned silence, but it was clear to Elizabeth that something must be done.
“Jane, we need a plan. Let us not forget that Uncle and Aunt Gardiner invited us to spend the season in London. I had hoped to enjoy my time and, if circumstances permitted it, find love. We must appeal to Mother’s ambition that we marry well. You are beautiful and I am clever. We must make her see that we can do better in London– that we can make better matches.”
“She could argue that Mr. Collins is a secure attachment. It is guaranteed and marriage to him would ensure that Longbourn stays in our possession,” said Jane.
“True, but he is a clergyman. He may inherit this estate, but will he have the means to maintain it? What if you or I were to marry a gentleman with property of his own or with sufficient money to care for Mother’s needs as well as ours? We must make Mother see how she stands to gain by allowing us time in London. She simply must allow us to go.” Elizabeth’s face felt hot in her passion.
“We must try.” Jane rested her hand on Elizabeth’s arm, sharing her tranquility.
Having a purpose and feeling Jane’s steady presence brought calm to Elizabeth and she mentally listed her arguments to present to her mother.
Mrs. Bennet returned home with the girls before lunch. Exhausted and afflicted by her nerves, Mrs. Bennet immediately ascended to her room to lay down. Kitty and Lydia were giggling and gossiping amongst themselves, so Elizabeth appealed to Mary.
“What news, Mary?” she asked.
“Mama is overcome because she found out that Emily Lancaster is to be wed and she is but Lydia’s age. I think it is immoral for one to marry so young.” Her opinion stated, she marched out of the room.
Elizabeth inwardly groaned. It would be more difficult to persuade Mother to allow Jane and herself to find their own husbands in London with Mr. Collins, whose sole objective was to marry one of them, on the way.
Lydia hugged Jane and said, “It is so romantic, is it not? I should love to marry young.”
Kitty bounced up and down and started dancing around Jane and Lydia. “Shall I throw rice and flowers at your wedding or be your maid of honor?” she asked of Lydia.
“Silly goose, you know Father would never approve,” interrupted Elizabeth, wanting to change the subject.
Everyone settled into their routine. Mother rested
upstairs, fanning herself and complaining about her upset nerves. Kitty and Lydia chased each other around the house and fought over dresses and ribbons. Jane embroidered. Elizabeth read a novel she had borrowed from Charlotte Lucas, her best friend and neighbor. Elizabeth had attempted to gain entry to speak to her mother about her and Jane’s plans, but she had been refused. Mother’s nerves were too disturbed. But Elizabeth grew impatient. Time was running out. She needed to convince her mother before Mr. Collins’s arrival.
From a distance, the clip clops of a team of horses and sound of turning wheels on the now compact dirt made Elizabeth look up. Could Mr. Collins be here already? Her heart sank and she crossed the room to look out the window. Jane was equally attentive.
Without saying a word, they waited together by the door. Elizabeth grasped Jane’s hand.
Mother, whose bedroom window overlooked the drive leading to the house, joined them and promptly inspected all five of her daughters standing in a line by the door. She straightened dresses, smoothed hair, and pinched cheeks in a matter of seconds, all the while talking about the importance of giving a good impression on her future son-in-law. Father, who had joined them when he heard the commotion from his beloved study, opened the door to play the role of the host.
Mr. Collins was dressed in black; the look of a clergyman. His eyes swept over his surroundings as he stepped out of the carriage, a disapproving look on his face. It only lasted a moment, for he saw that his cousins were coming outside to receive him. At once, he became obsequious. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at the change in the man. As he neared them, he bowed repeatedly, even though they had not been presented yet.
Father stepped forward and greeted their guest. After a brief exchange, he presented his cousin, Mr. Collins, to his family.
Mr. Collins bowed so deeply, Elizabeth wondered how he did not topple over. She took note of a bald patch of skin at the top of his head and tried to decide if his hair was greasy or wet. When he finally stood, she saw the two chins her father had warned her about. His hands must have been sweating, for he repeatedly wiped them on the legs of his trousers. Elizabeth tried to look at his hands to avoid staring at his flabby chin.
Elizabeth was not one to quiver in her boots, but this man gave her a bad feeling. This could not be good.
They filed into the house and into the sitting room.
Elizabeth sat in her usual spot by the fireside, next to her pile of books on a table. The day was warm, but she felt a chill. Her father stood in front of the fire, rubbing his hands together slowly, his eyes closed.
Turning around to face his audience, Mr. Bennet said, “As you know, Mr. Collins and I had a discussion about the circumstances of the estate and the insecurity it placed my dear wife and daughters in.” Her father directed the words at Mr. Collins, who sat and nodded while rubbing his hands on his trousers. The man must have a condition, thought Elizabeth.
“Mr. Collins consulted with his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and they feel that we can reach an agreement which will be satisfactory to both parties. It is Mr. Collins’s wish to wed and he has decided he would like to choose one of you to be his wife.”
Elizabeth could see why Mr. Collins was still single. Aside from the issue of excessive moisture he seemed to suffer from, he had a way of cocking his head to one side as if he were paying the utmost attention to everything said, but his eyes were darting around the room and from one young lady’s face to the next, suggesting that he was anything but sincere. Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of her and tucked her feet under the chair. She wanted as far away from Mr. Collins as possible.
“Now that my good cousin has expressed my reason in coming to this fine home, I want to thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Bennet. I shall not be a demanding guest. I only require the most humble of necessities and my only wish is to settle this affair for the mutual benefit of myself and one of your charming daughters.” His eyes greedily darted from one Bennet girl to the next.
Elizabeth tried not to make eye contact with Mr. Collins. She did not want him to notice her. Her sisters, including Mary, must have felt the same, for they too were looking down at their laps or to the floor. It did not take long for Mr. Collins’s eyes to land on Jane. Sweet, beautiful Jane. He looked her up and down, causing Elizabeth to shiver in revulsion.
“Forgive me for my hastiness, but it is the wish of Lady Catherine de Bourgh that I find a wife soon. Miss Jane…” he started.
“I hate to disappoint you, Mr. Collins, but our Jane is practically engaged,” interrupted Mrs. Bennet.
Jane’s eyes widened at the lie her mother told, but she did not dare deny it. Elizabeth wanted to kiss her mother, her relief was so great.
“Is that not so, Mr. Bennet?” she asked with her lips pursed, tapping the toe of her shoe on the carpet.
Mr. Bennet, knowing the humors of his wife and the consequences of not giving her what she wanted, readily agreed.
“Perhaps Mary would suit you better. She has almost memorized Fordyce’s Sermons, have you not, Mary?” Mrs. Bennet suggested.
Elizabeth knew Mary to be proud of this accomplishment, but Mary sat staring at her hands as if she were praying for divine intervention. Yes, she would make an excellent wife of a clergyman, just not this particular one.
Mr. Collins did not appear pleased at Mrs. Bennet’s suggestion. Elizabeth’s blood boiled that he felt himself worthy of Jane.
Mr. Collins, still squirming in his chair, said, “I suppose there is no great hurry. Such arrangements should not be taken lightly. I should like to go over the property with you, cousin, and take note of any repairs or improvements that need to be attended to.”
Mr. Bennet answered, “As you say, Mr. Collins, there is no hurry. I am not dead yet. You will have plenty of time after that particular event to make all the changes you wish.” Elizabeth, shocked at her father’s blunt speech, saw that Mr. Collins appeared unaffected and had to bite her cheeks to keep from laughing. Lydia and Kitty showed no such restraint and giggled openly from the couch. Mr. Collins smiled at them, clearly not understanding the source of their glee.
Mr. Bennet took pity on Mr. Collins’s dullness of mind, for he added, “However, I do suppose that it would not hurt to look over things on the morrow.”
“Mr. Collins, perhaps you would like to rest after your journey. Lydia, go have the cook prepare a light meal to be brought up to Mr. Collins’s room,” said Mrs. Bennet as she stood up, effectively dismissing everyone.
She shooed Mr. Collins out of the room and Lydia dragged her whiny self into the kitchen. As soon as she closed the sitting room door, Elizabeth and Jane looked to their father.
He sat down with his elbows perched on his knees, lacing and unlacing his fingers. “I fear that I must maintain a civil tongue, for it will not do to insult my heir apparent. What a ridiculous man.” He ran his fingers through his mussed up hair and sat back, slumping in his chair. “Would you believe that he has only copies of sermons in his library, besides the Bible in Latin? I had ample time to peruse his shelves while he consulted with his patroness.” He scoffed and shook his head in disgust.
“Father, we have worse concerns than his selection of books,” said Elizabeth in frustration.
With a hopeful expression, Mr. Bennet said, “His tastes do concur marvelously with Mary. Maybe we can stir his attention in her direction, or else find another clergyman for her to marry. It is the ideal solution for Mr. Collins.”
“Father, we know that will not happen. Did you see how he fixed himself on Jane? He is too full of himself and we should not wish such a fate on Mary. She deserves better.” How could she help him see the desperation in their current situation?
“Thank the heavens and all that is holy that your mother saved Jane,” said Mr. Bennet with a sigh. They all nodded in assent, Jane most enthusiastically. But then she paused and looked at her sister.
“He will choose you next,” she said.
Not wanting to revel in despair, El
izabeth said flippantly, “Dare he try.”
They all three laughed. Elizabeth’s laughter felt bitter. She desperately needed to marry well or risk her mother’s continued matchmaking attempts. She would never be happy married to such a man and the very thought of it made her cringe.
In a serious voice, she said, “Father, you must let Jane and I go to London as we had previously planned.”
He said, “Convince your mother.”
Elizabeth knew that his words were true. But she could not help wishing that he could enforce his own decisions in his own household. Reasoning with her mother was never a simple task. How could she reason with the unreasonable?
Chapter 7
As Elizabeth suspected, Mother was difficult.
‘Why waste time in London when Mr. Collins was ready and willing to marry as soon as the arrangements were made? Why does no one think of a mother’s happiness?’ were her arguments. This last reasoning inevitably led to sobbing tears and an inconsolable Mrs. Bennet. Unless Elizabeth thought of something more persuasive, she would be forced to take drastic measures for she would not marry Mr. Collins or watch as one of her younger sisters was forced to marry him.
Over the next two weeks, Elizabeth plotted and schemed. Mr. Collins, blissfully ignorant of Elizabeth’s efforts, rode over the estate with Mr. Bennet and made a list of all of the improvements he planned to make in the sad event of Mr. Bennet’s passing. His presumptuousness made him the subject of ridicule many times, but they endured his presence out of necessity. They might need to take advantage of his kindness, if indeed he had any such genuine emotion, should the unspeakable happen to their father.
Mr. Collins also did just as Jane predicted. He paid special attention to Elizabeth, though she shunned all of his advances, doing her best to show her disinterest without being rude.
Even Mrs. Bennet avoided him, yet she hinted many times to Elizabeth how she could save the family by marrying him. As if she could forget.