Implacable Resentment

by Jann Rowland

  “I have nothing left to lose, Mr. Forbes.” Elizabeth could hardly see the man through the tears in her eyes. “I will refuse to allow him into my bedchamber as I have done until now. He will get no heirs to my father’s estate from me.”

  Though he appeared surprised at her words, Mr. Forbes nodded. “It is easier to undo a marriage which has not been consummated.” He gazed at her a trifle severely. “It would be best if you would remember that, though I cannot condone such behavior in a general sense.”

  Elizabeth nodded.

  “One more question for you, Mrs. Collins,” said Mr. Forbes.

  At that moment, the door chime rang, and Elizabeth rose, though she had not recovered from her bout of emotions. Mr. Forbes rose with her and, smiling kindly at her, put his hand on her arm to forestall her departure.

  “Let the maid answer the door, Mrs. Collins. I was expecting another to join us.

  “While we wait, I would like an answer to my question. Was Mr. Collins a party to what happened in Hertfordshire?”

  A bark of laughter escaped Elizabeth’s mouth. “He was there, was he not?” At Mr. Forbes’s stern look, Elizabeth relented. “I do not think that Mr. Collins was aware of my reluctance, as I did not have the opportunity to tell him openly. You have perhaps noted that Mr. Collins is not precisely . . . intellectually gifted?”

  A tight nod met her statement.

  “I believe that Mr. Collins could not imagine that I would be anything less than eager and grateful for his attentions. My reluctance since then has been put down to certain . . . feminine indispositions and my ‘desire to increase his love by suspense.’ So from that perspective, he was not a party to it, I suppose.”

  The door opened, and Mr. Darcy was shown into the room. Elizabeth regarded him as if she was a drowning woman and he the only one who could save her. But though he regarded her with his typical intensity, he was equally circumspect in his greeting to her.

  “Mrs. Collins,” said Mr. Forbes, “even if your husband was not a party to what happened, the church still expects its clergymen to behave in a certain manner. And it is expected that a man who marries a woman takes the opportunity to confirm that she is at least resigned to the match, regardless of what he has been promised.”

  Having said that, Mr. Forbes turned and greeted Mr. Darcy, and Elizabeth asked him to sit with them. She was unsure as to why Mr. Forbes had asked him to join them, but she was certain it would be made clear in due time.

  Indeed, the churchman was not inclined to exchange pleasantries. Instead, he turned his stern gaze upon them both and said:

  “What has not yet been explained concerning this matter is the reason why Mr. Darcy—a man wholly unconnected with you—has taken up your standard. Would either of you care to enlighten me?”

  Anyone witnessing their faces would have likened them to a pair of children caught in an act of disobedience. Elizabeth felt herself flush, and though she could not look at Mr. Darcy, she thought that he was as red and embarrassed as she felt.

  “Mr. Darcy asked me for a courtship the day before my father forced me to the church,” said Elizabeth in a halting tone.

  Mr. Forbes nodded. “Though it was not outside the realm of possibility for Mr. Darcy to have offered his assistance due to nothing more than pity, I expected that there would be something else at play here.”

  Once again, the man turned a stern eye upon them both. “Can I trust you both to rein in your passions and conduct yourselves with decorum?”

  “Of course,” said Mr. Darcy, though he appeared very much the errant schoolboy. “I would never dishonor Miss . . . Mrs. Collins in such a manner.”

  “Good,” replied the clergyman with a nod, though he did raise an eyebrow at Mr. Darcy’s near faux pas. “I am well aware of what you are both feeling right now.” He paused and took them both in with an amused smile. “I have been married for some years to my dear wife, but I recall the days of waiting very well indeed. Attraction and desire between you is understandable, but we must leave everything to its proper season.

  “I will do what I can to right the wrong which has been done to you, Mrs. Collins, but your plight is not an excuse for you to indulge in inappropriate behavior. I will expect you to remain at a respectful distance from Mr. Darcy until this has been resolved.”

  When Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy both murmured agreement, Mr. Forbes became much more pleasant again, so much so that Elizabeth dared to ask him another question.

  “How long do you anticipate it will be?”

  The man’s compassion was unmistakable in the way he regarded Elizabeth. “Mrs. Collins, I ask for your patience. An annulment is not a minor undertaking, and the investigation alone will take some days. I will send an agent for the particulars concerning what has happened in Hertfordshire, including the application to your father’s rector, the marriage registry, and the matter of the banns not being read. I will inquire with the curate here in Hunsford myself before I leave tomorrow.”

  At Elizabeth’s look of consternation, Mr. Forbes merely smiled at her. “There is no need to worry, Mrs. Collins. I have no intention of making your situation any more difficult than it already is. I will canvass the curate and give him strict instructions not to mention anything to Mr. Collins. Though perhaps it is unusual conduct an investigation in secret from one of those involved, in this instance, given the behavior of your father and Mr. Collins, I believe it is warranted.”

  The conversation turned to general matters, and it was not long before Mr. Darcy excused himself, citing a need to return to Rosings to attend his aunt. Elizabeth was sorry to see him go, but as she needed to see to supper, she had some duties with which she could occupy her time. Mr. Forbes was shown to a room where he could refresh himself ahead of the supper hour, leaving Elizabeth by herself. The hope which had smoldered within her had now burst into flame, and she was hopeful that she might someday soon be free of the odious Mr. Collins.

  That evening was filled with inanities aplenty, and though Elizabeth knew Mr. Collins was a sycophant of the first order, that evening in the company of Mr. Forbes taught her much about the man who was, at least at the moment, her husband.

  For she learned that Mr. Collins was not only Lady Catherine’s devoted servant and toady, but he was also not above licking the boots of anyone he deemed as being higher in the social order than he was himself. If Elizabeth had not already had such low expectations for his behavior, she might have been mortified by the way he fawned over Mr. Forbes, showering him with praise about anything which entered his mind. As it was, Elizabeth was able to endure the evening quite well indeed, for though Mr. Collins was his typical voluble self, Mr. Forbes was everything which was agreeable. For once, there was intelligent conversation to be had.

  Still, as the minutes and then hours passed by, Mr. Collins wore on her patience, and by the time she retired, it was all she could do not to snap at her husband for embarrassing her at every turn. She went to her bed gladly that evening, believing that a night’s rest would restore her spirits.

  The next morning, Mr. Forbes did not stay long. He departed to go to the church and was there for some time in the company of Mr. Collins and Mr. Dawson, Hunsford’s curate. Elizabeth was not certain how he had managed it, but because Mr. Collins made no mention of the matter, she could only assume that Mr. Forbes had been successful in diverting his attention while he spoke with Mr. Dawson. It was Mr. Forbes who returned to the parsonage alone to retrieve his belongings and take his leave. It was then that he gave Elizabeth a final few words of encouragement.

  “Your suspicions were correct, Mrs. Collins. The banns were never read in the parish, which leads me to believe that they were not read in Hertfordshire either.”

  Elizabeth only nodded; she had been certain that was the case.

  “There still is the possibility that Mr. Collins or your father purchased a special license, and I will investigate that as well. However, given the expense, I rather doubt that was the case unless L
ady Catherine was somehow persuaded to supply the funds to her clergyman.

  “If there is no special license, then the neglecting of the banns will make your case that much stronger.”

  “Thank you,” said Elizabeth with fervency.

  “It does not mean the annulment will be granted,” warned Mr. Forbes. “The church will sometimes sanction a marriage even if the proper forms have not been met for the simple reason that it is deemed better that a marriage which has already taken place should not be split asunder.”

  “I understand,” replied Elizabeth, the reality of the situation clear to her. “In that case, there would be nothing left for me here.”

  “This is not something from which you can simply run, Mrs. Collins,” said Mr. Forbes, his tone awash with compassion. “You would be little more than a pariah, forever alone.”

  “That would be preferable to putting up with such a demeaning marriage for the rest of my life,” replied Elizabeth. In reality, she was so very exhausted with thoughts of her situation that she did not wish to consider the matter any longer. Whatever happened would happen. It would do no good to think on it without respite and make herself even unhappier in the process.

  “Have hope, Mrs. Collins. I believe that the chances of your marriage being dissolved are as good as any other I have seen.”

  And with that, Mr. Forbes departed, leaving Elizabeth alone to her thoughts and to what she suspected would be a terrible period of waiting, not knowing what her fate would be.

  It truly was terrible, and at times, Elizabeth did not know how she managed to withstand the suspense. Mr. Darcy was, as always, a boon to her troubled soul, but mindful of Mr. Forbes’s admonishments, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth did not meet in the woods again; it would not do to have gossip concerning clandestine assignations and unfaithful wives work their way through the neighborhood.

  Rather, in that time Elizabeth began to make herself useful in the neighborhood, visiting the sick and elderly, assisting by disbursing baskets of food and supplies to the less fortunate and taking on all the duties of a parson’s wife. At first, she was able to own to herself, she had done it simply to keep herself busy and, perhaps more importantly, away from Mr. Collins, but as she continued to involve herself in the doings of the parishioners, she began to enjoy herself. She did not know what was in store for her should she eventually be free to marry Mr. Darcy, but she knew that managing the house, caring for tenants, and being a useful, active sort of person would all be expected of her. She looked upon the days spent in such endeavors as a training period of sorts for her ultimate destiny of becoming Mr. Darcy’s wife.

  And she found that what she was doing was making a difference in the community. Her husband was not a popular minister. Not only were the people well aware that anything they told him might be carried back to Lady Catherine, but most of the advice he gave to those in need was deemed to be so nonsensical as to be utterly worthless.

  But while Elizabeth avoided him as much as possible, she found that his insinuations that he was becoming impatient to finally consummate their marriage were becoming more blatant. As it was nearing two weeks since her marriage, she knew that soon his patience would be exhausted and that he might become aware of the fact that she was avoiding his attentions. What he would do then was a matter of some conjecture. Elizabeth was certain that he would not become violent, but she was also certain that he would try to force the issue in some manner.

  In the meantime, there was nothing to do but wait, pray, and attend to whatever duties she could. And hope. Hope was a large part of her life.

  “Is there a letter from Elizabeth today?”

  Shaking his head in resignation, Edward Gardiner turned to his wife. “Nothing. I have a few letters from my partner in London, but nothing from Longbourn.”

  Sarah frowned. “It has been more than a week, Edward. I am worried.”

  Gardiner could only commiserate with his wife. He had always been of the opinion that his brother by marriage had called for the return of his daughter for some particular reason, but he had never quite been able to determine what exactly that reason was. The subject had never really been put to rest between them—they both wished that Elizabeth had allowed herself to be persuaded not to return to Longbourn, but Gardiner had vowed that he would not dictate her life to her, and he had thus given way and allowed her to return. They had relied on her frequent communication to calm their worries and assure themselves that she was, at the very least, content with her family.

  “She has never gone this long without writing,” fretted Sarah. “Something is wrong.”

  “We do not know that for certain. Her letter may simply have been lost in the mail.”

  A withering glare met his assertion, and Gardiner had to acknowledge that he did not truly believe it either.

  “Elizabeth’s letters have changed since we left her there, Edward. You know they have.”

  “I know, my dear. There is a distinct want of cheer in her communications of late. She tells us that all is well, but I am aware of her propensity to put a cheerful facade to the world.”

  “It is more than that. It is specifically because she does not wish to worry us.”

  Gardiner sighed and went to his wife, taking her hands within his own. The children were ensconced with their governess, and though there was a frigid wind blowing in from the sea, the house he had rented for their use while they were in Ireland was cozy. It merely wanted Elizabeth’s cheery presence to make it into a lively home for the duration of their stay. Such cheer had been lacking since their arrival due to the inhabitants’ habit of worrying over the state of their beloved niece.

  “My business is almost complete, Sarah. Shall we depart instead of staying for the Christmas season as we originally intended?”

  “Yes!” was Sarah’s instant cry.

  Gardiner was forced to grin at her eagerness. They had anticipated this family holiday greatly, but her attachment to Elizabeth was so strong that she did not even hesitate.

  “Then I shall go and complete my business as soon as may be so that we may depart.”

  Sarah nodded, though a smile was playing about her mouth, and Gardiner knew that his own attachment matched hers. They truly had been blessed to have Elizabeth in their home for all those years. Hopefully, she would reside with them again before she inevitably left to establish her own home with her eventual husband.

  They busied themselves with their respective tasks, but they had not been engaged in such for long before the door chime rang. A few moments later, a maid entered and handed Gardiner a thin package.

  “This express has just arrived, Mr. Gardiner,” said she in her lilting Irish accent.

  After exchanging a glance with his wife—and noting that Sarah appeared apprehensive at the arrival of an express—Gardiner stepped forward to take the letter. He thanked the maid, who immediately departed, and looked down at the missive.

  “It is from Kent,” said he with some surprise.

  “Kent?” echoed his wife. “Do you do business with anyone in Kent?”

  “Not with anyone who would be sending me an express,” replied Gardiner before he broke the seal. There was another sealed piece of paper inside the first. Gardiner looked at the writing on the outside of the second sheet and gasped. It was Elizabeth’s.

  “What is it?”

  But Gardiner could not respond. His attention caught by the words on the paper, he read the short note before turning to Elizabeth’s missive and opening it, his fury growing as the import of the words leapt off the page and assaulted his senses like darts piercing him with all their fiery rage.

  Sarah could clearly see that something was amiss, as she rose and walked toward him as soon as she saw his change in demeanor. “Edward, what is it?”

  His outrage overcoming his ability to speak, Gardiner chose the simple expedient of thrusting the letters at Sarah, allowing her to take them while he began to pace, muttering imprecations at Bennet under his breath. It w
as not long before his wife was as angry as he was himself, but Sarah, fortunately, was able to keep her wits about her.

  “I was afraid your brother had some specific reason for demanding Elizabeth’s return,” said she. “But I had not imagined him capable of this!”

  “At this moment, I am trying to decide whether to ruin the man or simply run him through,” said Gardiner.

  “I would appreciate it if my husband would not go off and get himself thrown in prison for killing his brother-in-law,” said Sarah wryly.

  Gardiner stopped his pacing and stared at her. “You are taking this rather calmly, are you not?”

  “Only because you have not stopped to think, husband.” Sarah stepped forward and put a calming hand on his shoulder, and then she led him to the couch. “Look here: Elizabeth writes that she has some hope of being free of this cousin of Bennet’s.”

  “You and I both know it is very difficult to undo a marriage.”

  “Perhaps. Now, what do you know of Mr. Darcy actually going to Kent to be of assistance to her?”

  “I am sure I know nothing of the man other than what I told you of meeting him on the way to Meryton and what Elizabeth has told us in her letters,” said Gardiner.

  “Does it not strike you as strange that a man who is only barely acquainted with her would travel to Kent in order to help her extricate herself from this marriage?”

  Comprehension dawned, and Gardiner stared back at his wife in surprise. “Are you suggesting that Mr. Darcy admires Elizabeth?”

  “Why else would he involve himself in such a manner? You did tell me that you thought he was interested in Elizabeth.”

  “I thought the man was friendly and that he appeared to look on her with favor, but their acquaintance was only minutes old when I observed them.”

  “Well, it appears as if it has deepened significantly since then, though our reticent niece has not seen fit to state it explicitly in her letters.”