by Jann Rowland
It appeared, at last, Mr. Collins understood his cousin’s annoyance, for he inclined his head and refrained from pursuing the matter further. “Perhaps that is the best we can expect.”
“It is,” replied Lord Arundel.
“Have you made any improvements to your house, Mr. Collins?” asked Lady Margaret, eager to introduce harmony back into their conversation.
“As you suggested,” said Mr. Collins. “Though there was some mention of shelves in the closets from certain unsolicited quarters, I refrained, as I believe closets are best used to hang clothes, and such barriers would defeat the purpose. Your suggestions, however, were excellent, and I have implemented them.”
“I should like to know who made such a nonsensical proposal, Mr. Collins,” said Lady Margaret. “It sounds like a silly concept to me.”
“The source of the suggestion is not pertinent, but I cannot disagree.”
“Then that is well for the moment. In the future, you will wish to have a wife to manage your home and will defer to her judgment in such matters.”
No one missed the significant look Lady Margaret leveled in Mary’s direction, least of all Mary or Mr. Collins. Neither, it seemed, opposed the notion, though Mary was a reticent young lady and did not show her feelings openly.
“I believe you are correct, my lady,” replied Mr. Collins. “It has often been said that a clergyman should take the lead in showing the example of matrimony in his parish, much as my late father did. Though I am no longer a member of that profession, I do not believe any less in the wisdom of such counsel. I intend to rectify the unfortunate fact of my single status before long, I assure you.”
It seemed to Elizabeth that Mary’s lips curved up ever so slightly at Mr. Collins’s declaration, but she made no other sign. As the conversation turned to other matters around her, Elizabeth considered the subject of Mr. Collins and Mary. It had long been the opinion in the family that Mr. Collins admired Mary, and there was some indication Mary returned the sentiment. As yet, neither had said anything to confirm or deny the supposition. It was true Mr. Collins was often with Mary when visiting, which gave then all reason to further suspect some announcement may be forthcoming.
The thought that Mr. Collins might have been discussing his intentions toward Mary when he had disappeared with her father that afternoon entered Elizabeth’s mind. As her father had asked after Brownlee park at dinner, the estate had not been the focus of their conversation, so the idea had some merit. If Mary was destined to be the wife of Mr. Collins, Elizabeth was happy for her. Mr. Collins did not interest Elizabeth as a potential husband, not that he had ever shown any desire to have her as a wife. She could see why his situation and person would appeal to a young lady of Mary’s character.
The more she thought on the matter and watched her cousin and sister, the more Elizabeth became convinced there was something there. They were not overt in their admiration, for neither was disposed to be so, but the little looks which sometimes passed between lovers were clear if one cared to look. The only question which remained was whether Mr. Collins or Mr. Bingley would take the initiative and propose first. Though Elizabeth suspected Mr. Collins’s admiration was of a longer duration, she would not wager against Mr. Bingley’s impulsive tendencies.
The opportunity to observe the courting gentleman presented itself the following morning when Mr. Bingley called at Longbourn. Mr. Bingley was acquainted with Mr. Collins and the two men approved of each other. Being different sort of men, they would never be great friends, but the prospect of their being brothers did not seem onerous. Mr. Collins, however, was a man who took his responsibilities seriously, even when they were not his. He amply demonstrated that trait during that morning visit.
“Mr. Bingley,” greeted Mr. Collins when the gentleman had been sitting with Jane for a few moments. “I had heard that you have been calling on my cousin of late.”
“I have,” replied Mr. Bingley, his cheerful demeanor on full display. “And who could blame me? Miss Bennet is everything a man could want.”
The faint smile with which Mr. Collins met this declaration showed his agreement, but he was not about to allow Mr. Bingley to pull him into a discussion of his cousin’s perfections, Mr. Bingley’s favorite subject.
“I cannot agree more, sir,” said Mr. Collins, nodding to Jane. “She is a jewel of the first order, but then again, so are all of my dear cousins. What I am more interested in is the level of your interest.”
Mr. Bingley seemed rather bemused he was having this conversation with a man who was not Jane’s father. For Jane’s part, her look at her cousin seemed to suggest he should leave the subject be, but neither man seemed to notice her. Mr. Collins wished to know of Mr. Bingley’s level of commitment, and Mr. Bingley was by no means reluctant to declare it.
“Whatever you suspect of my level of interest,” said Mr. Bingley, “you may multiply it by a factor of ten. I am ready to pay Miss Bennet every compliment and eager to assume the responsibilities that gesture entails.”
As a statement, it was more than a little pompous in Elizabeth’s opinion. It was also the sort of unequivocal announcement which would appeal to Mr. Collins, a man who, as Elizabeth had noted before, was given to his share of pomposity. Whether Mr. Bingley knew this of Mr. Collins and responded accordingly Elizabeth was uncertain, but his words could not fail to garner Mr. Collins’s support.
“Then it is well, sir. I hope you will forgive me for the presumptuous manner of my query and assure you that nothing less than my cousin’s happiness would induce me to speak so.”
“I am sure Mr. Bingley is not offended,” said Lord Arundel as Mr. Bingley voiced the same. “However, I must wonder if this interest in my eldest daughter’s suitor by all and sundry is a product of the belief that I am unable to provide for their protection.”
It was clear Mr. Collins did not quite understand the full import of Lord Arundel’s meaning, which was no surprise considering he had not been present during Mr. Gardiner’s inquiry. The gentleman, however, understood well enough the gist of his cousin’s words, for he was quick to respond.
“I believe, Cousin, you should instead see it as our sincere interest in the happiness of your excellent daughters. One has only to see you know that you cherish them enough to be their protector—my question to Mr. Bingley was nothing more nor less than it appeared.”
Lord Arundel, to whom such dry humor was a delight, grinned at his cousin. “Then I thank you, Cousin, for your diligence. I hope I shall also expect your diligence in another matter of import to us all, and perhaps more personal to yourself?”
The significant look Lord Arundel directed at Mary did nothing to discompose her, and Mr. Collins knew at once to what his cousin referred. “You may be easy on that score, Cousin. Like our esteemed Mr. Bingley informed us, I am eager to perform those duties to which I find myself obliged.”
It was not, perhaps, a grandiose statement of devotion. But Mr. Collins was not a man given to such displays, nor was Mary a girl to expect such things from a suitor if that was what Mr. Collins was. The gentleman gave the notion more weight when he turned his attention back to Mary and conversed with her for some time after. Lord Arundel, who caught Elizabeth’s eye, winked and turned back to his newspaper.
Soon after, when her father left for his study to see to some estate business, the conversation among the young members of the party turned to their amusement for that morning. And soon, they decided a visit to Lambton would be just the thing, for they were all eager to go out for a time.
“Then be off with you,” said Lady Margaret, shooing them from the room. “This morning, I am to visit with old Mrs. Caruthers, and I have a few other calls to make. Perhaps I shall meet you in Lambton so you may ride back to Longbourn with me.”
Elizabeth decided against pointing out that seven, besides her mother, would never fit inside the Bennet carriage, spacious though it was. Lady Margaret departed soon after, leaving them to their own devices. They do
nned their outerwear for the walk to Lambton which, though it was two miles or more, was well within the range of their ability to walk.
It was a fine morning, still afflicted with the chill of the season, though the sun shone bright and warm down on the party. Kitty and Lydia, being the most eager, roamed on ahead, their paces swift as they swung their arms and laughed between them. Elizabeth followed the two couples providing some measure of chaperonage, not that they needed any on such an open road. A part of her wondered what was in store for her future, for she had met no man who excited her imagination as her sisters had.
The thought provoked the image of Mr. Darcy, sitting tall and proud on his mount, and she felt a hint of embarrassment creep into her thoughts. Why had such a thing occurred to her? Surely the relative situation between the two families would prevent even the notion of such an alliance from ever coming to pass. Besides, Mr. Darcy had shown himself to be a proud man, and not one Elizabeth could ever imagine stealing her heart.
It was fortunate for Elizabeth that she was walking at the back of the party, for no one noticed her sudden anxiety. They made good time, walking at a quick pace—perhaps too quick for the courting couples—and soon they reached the outskirts of the village.
Their arrival in town showed to any who cared to look the disparate characters of the five Bennet sisters. Kitty and Lydia were eager to see what they could of the latest fashions at the dressmakers, and Elizabeth could hear them chattering to themselves about visiting the haberdashery, and perhaps even the milliner. Jane, in Mr. Bingley’s company, wandered near the sweet shop—Jane’s sweet tooth was legendary—while Elizabeth and Mary took themselves to the bookstore with Mr. Collins escorting them.
There they spent an agreeable time going through the latest books, though there, again, the differences were clear. Mary was more interested in serious works of literature to complement her devotion to the Bible, meaning she focused on works with a religious bent, such as Paradise Lost. Elizabeth, though she also enjoyed such literature, also liked poetry and philosophy, and even the occasional novel, a genre Mary looked on with disapproval.
After a time, Jane and Mr. Bingley joined them and looked on with laughter in their eyes. “I should have known that I would have time to visit almost every shop in the village before my two sisters would even think of leaving the bookstore.”
Elizabeth returned her grin. “Perish the thought! I am convinced we shall not be pried away in anything less than double the time you suggest!”
“For Lizzy, perhaps that is accurate,” said Mary. “But I believe I am ready to make my purchases and depart.”
With good-natured teasing, her sisters chivvied Elizabeth until she made her selections. She would not do so, however, without returning the favor.
“It is shocking what a number of ogres you all are! Can you not leave me to shop for the written word in peace?”
“If we did that,” replied Jane, “I doubt we should see you for the rest of the day, Lizzy.”
“I think your sister’s devotion to books is charming,” said Mr. Collins. “It proves her to be an accomplished woman, one with a great mind that she can read and understand so much.”
“You flatter me, Cousin,” said Elizabeth. Then she winked at him and added: “And I appreciate it very much. These two will give me an infamous character with no chance to defend myself.”
So focused was Elizabeth on their banter, that she was not watching where she was going in the narrow confines of the shop between the various bookshelves. Thus, when she impacted with something, at once soft and unyielding, she might have fallen had she not reached out to steady herself against whatever she had run into. It turned out to be a “whoever” rather than a “whatever.”
“Oh my!” said Elizabeth when she discovered she had collided with none other than Georgiana Darcy. The girl appeared as surprised as Elizabeth, though she did not show the revulsion Elizabeth might have expected from one of the Darcy family having such a close encounter with a member of the Bennet clan. Unfortunately, there was one present who was not so circumspect.
“Dearest Georgiana,” cooed the dulcet tones of Miss Bingley. The woman stepped into view and grasped Miss Darcy’s arm, ostensibly to support her, though her piercing glance at Elizabeth spoke to other motivations. “Perhaps we should depart, for it would not do to allow your brother to see you in such company as this.”
“Caroline!” exclaimed Mr. Bingley, while at the same time Elizabeth leveled a quelling look on Miss Bingley.
“It would be best if you said nothing more, Miss Bingley,” said Elizabeth, her glare bearing down on the woman. “Perhaps you should remember that neither the Bingleys nor the Darcys are of the Bennets’ level of society. It would serve your social aspirations ill if you forgot this and insulted one or several daughters of a baron.”
Miss Bingley paled, much to Elizabeth’s satisfaction. The Bennet family was not in the habit of throwing their power about or using it as a cudgel against those of a lesser station. In this instance, however, Elizabeth thought it justified in the face of such insolence as Miss Bingley displayed. Though she held Miss Bingley’s eyes for some moments, she was satisfied when the other woman looked away, as much in anger as shame, Elizabeth thought.
Then Elizabeth turned back to Miss Darcy, who was watching the scene with pursed lips. “I hope you are unharmed, Miss Darcy?”
“Not at all,” replied the girl, turning back to Elizabeth, her manner shy. “It was an accident, nothing more.”
“Yes, it was,” replied Elizabeth. She grinned at the girl and added: “But battles have been fought for less than this, do you not agree?”
Miss Darcy caught the facetious tone in Elizabeth’s voice and laughed aloud. “Yes, I believe you are correct. I suspect there is no need for us to go to war, for there is no insult.”
When Miss Bingley made to speak, Elizabeth glared her down again, and she subsided with a pouting huff of annoyance. It appeared Miss Darcy was no fonder of the woman than Elizabeth was, for a faint hint of satisfaction hovered about the corners of her mouth. Then Elizabeth remembered the proprieties of the situation.
“Mr. Bingley,” said she, calling to the gentleman glaring at his sister. “It comes to mind that we are not acquainted with this young lady. Might I ask you to perform the office?”
“An excellent notion,” said he.
Once again Miss Bingley seemed like she wished to protest, but his glare silenced her. Mr. Bingley provided the necessary presentation, and the ladies all curtseyed to each other, while Mr. Collins bowed. When completed, Elizabeth fixed a wide smile on the girl and said:
“I hope you do not find us presumptuous, Miss Darcy. But I find we have remained unacquainted too long, regardless of whatever silly matter lies between our families.”
“Yes, I cannot but agree, Miss Elizabeth,” replied the girl. Then she turned to Mr. Bingley. “I hope you are well, sir? Your sister has spoken of you, but I have not had the privilege of your company for some time.”
“I am very well, Miss Darcy,” said Mr. Bingley. “As you can see, I have been busy of late. I hope your brothers and your father are well?”
“They are,” replied Miss Darcy. “My Cousin Anthony is also to join us soon.”
“Fitzwilliam!” exclaimed Mr. Bingley. “That is excellent, Miss Darcy, for he is a good man. And how has he been?”
“It is my understanding he is to resign his commission,” said Elizabeth. “Or so Lady Charlotte informed me at church on Sunday.”
“Yes, that is correct,” said Miss Darcy. She seemed a little curious, and then said: “You are friendly with Lady Charlotte?”
“She is one of our closest friends,” said Jane. “My father and her father have been friends and allies for many years.”
Miss Darcy nodded, deep in thought. While they said nothing more of substance, their conversation continued for several more moments, consisting of pleasantries. None of those present were bold enough to state a wish
for future friendship or society, unsurprising, given the situation. But Elizabeth thought she might like to have this shy young girl for a friend, though she knew how unlikely it was.
Then the shop’s door swung open and in walked the imposing figure of Mr. Darcy. With one look he took in the situation. It was clear he was not amused.
Chapter IX
Lambton was a picturesque town if one cared for that sort of thing. The old Alexander Darcy might not have cared in the slightest—the present man had begun to appreciate the little pleasures in life.
It was good to be back in Derbyshire, at Pemberley, he reflected, though only a few short days ago he had lamented his father’s summons. While Alexander still considered the notion of watching his own estate a bother, stability had begun to have some appeal. This did not mean Alexander was immune to fun.
“You should go on ahead,” said Alexander one morning as he rode with his brother and sister toward the town. “The stitching in my left stirrup is loose—I shall stop at the tanner and have it repaired.”
William regarded him momentarily before giving his agreement. “I must stop at the mercantile for a time.”
“And I should like to visit the bookstore,” said Georgiana. “As I know you are a devotee of the written word, shall you not meet me there after you finish?”
As Alexander might have predicted, William was quick to give his assent. When they turned as one to regard him, Alexander laughed and shook his head. “If you wish it, I shall join you at the bookstore. Though I am not as devoted as you both, I shall remind you I can read.”
Both siblings gave him a smile, and Alexander reined his horse away, making for the Tanner’s shop on the outskirts of town. The tanner was a tall man in a rough smock, his shop smelling of old leather and other, less pleasant scents. He bowed low when Alexander informed him of the problem and promised to fix it at once. Then he went about his business as Alexander waited, looking about with interest.