The fears sparked by my initial error were starting to wane, and I’d begun to dream again of making it through the rest of the year with ease. That was, until one day while having tea at Rosings.
Putting down her cup to regard me, Lady Catherine asked, “Why haven’t you married yet?”
“I haven’t met any unmarried gentlewomen who would be suitable,” I replied, my desire for food or drink instantly quenched by worry. “It’s very gracious of you to be concerned about my humble affairs, but there doesn’t appear to be anyone in the neighborhood who satisfies the conditions your ladyship has given me.” I would have to find other words for gracious and humble, I realized. I was repeating myself too much.
“That is true,” she said, becoming thoughtful. She picked back up her teacup.
Across the table from me, I could see Anne regarding me with mild amusement. I relaxed slightly, hoping Lady Catherine didn’t mean to pursue the topic. I took a sip of my own tea, wracking my mind for something to ask her to insure a change of subject. I was about to question where a man ought to procure more writing supplies when she set her cup down again.
“What about your cousins?” she asked. “I inquired about them and they’re reputed to be attractive young women. Well, four of the five are. That isn’t the issue, though. They are poor. Their father hasn’t saved anything and they will each inherit only a thousand pounds. It’s disgraceful that a man with two thousand pounds a year hasn’t put away more. Some gentlemen have no good sense.”
I had to agree with Lady Catherine that Mr. Bennet should have saved more. I was pleased that, for once, my nod of agreement was honest. Apparently, Mr. Bennet wasn’t as miserly as my father. I’d never been told what they’d disagreed about, and wondered if it had been over money.
“If you married one of your cousins, you could atone for the entail and solve your problem of not having a wife at the same time,” Lady Catherine finished.
I recognized the look on her face. This was an issue on which she would not be put off. I had a choice, I realized. I could give up my chance of a permanent position or I could marry.
If I chose a woman Lady Catherine liked, I would be more likely to secure the permanent position. If I chose one I liked, I would probably be less likely to. Of course, if I didn’t have a permanent position, I couldn’t support any wife.
Should I gamble on it? She was eyeing me intently, waiting for my answer. I looked to Anne, but found no help there. Whatever brief interest she’d had was gone, her gaze turned abstractly toward the wall.
I sighed, realizing I wasn’t ready to give up on securing the position. People married for worse reasons than to secure a living. I just hoped Lady Catherine was telling the truth about them being pretty, at least. “As always, your advice is excellent, and more thoughtful than any idea I could have settled upon. I will write Mr. Bennet immediately.”
“Show me the letter before you send it,” she said, a satisfied look on her face. “You want to set the right tone.”
It took four drafts before my letter was approved.
Thus, I found myself traveling to Hertfordshire. Lady Catherine wanted me to marry, so I would at least try to do it, if one of my cousins was suitable. If none of them proved to be, hopefully trying would be enough. I wanted the living, but not enough to condemn myself to suffering a woman I couldn’t abide for the rest of my life.
Within two hours of my arrival, I realized several things. For one, I was pleased to note that most of my cousins were quite pretty. Unfortunately, I also learned more than half of them wouldn’t suit. The two youngest girls were still rather young and too wild. If I were being myself, I would have been able to tame them, and likely enjoyed the effort, but the man Lady Catherine knew had no hope of doing so. Plus, either was sure to offend her ladyship almost immediately.
Likewise, the middle girl would never keep her mouth shut in front of Lady Catherine, who wouldn’t want others’ opinions expressed. She was also the only one I considered plain, and seemed the least intelligent. When my year was up, I wanted to be left with a wife I could have a decent conversation with; someone who would offer novel thoughts of her own, not well worn repetition of the arguments of others.
That left the older two as possibilities. The eldest had a kindness to her that would beguile any man. I thought it would also please Lady Catherine, though the girl, Jane by name, was so saccharine, pretty and good, the lady might be forced to harbor a secret jealousy. Still, she would be a better choice than Mr. Bennet’s second daughter, Elizabeth. Though striking and obviously possessed of a keen mind, my cousin Elizabeth was just as obviously overly proud.
That afternoon and at dinner, I played the same role as I did at Rosings. I bumbled about with no social grace and complimented everything incessantly. I made sure my shoulders were continually slumped, though it hurt my spine, in order to hide any semblance of a physique. For good measure, I apologized for most everything I did or said, no matter that there was generally no reason for it.
My act worked just as well in Hertfordshire as it did in Rosings. Of course, these people were somewhat disposed toward judging me harshly, and seemed quite ready to do so. All but Jane, who was apparently too kind to label even me as anything less than good. Elizabeth looked on me with thinly veiled disdain, and the youngest two could do little but giggle. Sadly, my cousin Mary almost appeared to like me.
At first, Mrs. Bennet seemed on the verge of open hostility, until she learned my mission was to wed one of her daughters. As a woman with five girls, I couldn’t blame her for being swayed by the realization. Somewhat mollified by it, she moved to having mixed feelings about my behavior, obviously suspicious of how much of it was a compliment to her and how much of it was avarice.
It was neither, of course. I didn’t care how attractive her furnishings were, or what food she placed on the table. I just wanted to be the same person in Hertfordshire as I was in Kent. As I’d been warned and already experienced, Lady Catherine had spies everywhere. The stray word of one maid to one footman, and so forth, would surely travel to Lady Catherine’s ears before I could even return. I had terrible visions of going back with a wife, only to find I’d already been turned out, my possessions piled outside a locked door.
Mr. Bennet found me amusing and barely hid it. I wondered how amusing he would find me if he knew I was acting. I suspected, once he got over the insult, he would appreciate the joke. In fact, the more time I spent with him, the sadder it made me to act. He was nothing like my father. I would have been happy to have grown up knowing this man. I thought, perhaps, my life and his would have been better for it.
The next morning, Mrs. Bennet set me straight on my cousin Jane. She was nearly engaged. In a way, it was a relief. Jane’s goodness was almost too much of a responsibility, and I didn’t think she had the kind of practicality that would make her a good wife for a clergyman. Also, she was too beautiful. Not only did I think my fears that Jane would inspire jealousy were well founded, Lady Catherine had two unmarried nephews she’d told me visited her every Easter. It would not do to have someone too attractive, especially if her nephews had even a scrap of her attitude of privileged arrogance. Jane would be too much of a distraction, in more ways than one.
The more I got to know Elizabeth, the second daughter, the more I realized she was even more proud and quick witted than I’d first gathered. Both could prove to be too problematical, but the answer was easy. If she consented to marry me, with all of my obvious flaws, she would make the necessary sacrifices to please Lady Catherine. She was intelligent enough, and could learn to be hard working. If she refused me, she probably wouldn’t be willing to work hard enough to do what was necessary for me to get the Hunsford living.
In either eventuality, I couldn’t lose, and stood to gain an intelligent, attractive wife. It was decided. I would court Elizabeth Bennet.
I soon learned there was to be a dance, to which we were all invited. I wasted no time securing Elizabeth for the fir
st set. She wasn’t happy about it, but she had little choice if she wanted to dance at all. As much as I wanted to procure a wife in order to please Lady Catherine, it was already looking as if Elizabeth would prove too unbending for the task. Not to mention, I didn’t fancy taking a wife who quite so openly disliked me.
When the day of the dance came, I firmly crushed my desire to wipe the haughtiness off Elizabeth’s face by impressing her. Instead, I tested her by deliberately dancing poorly and apologizing for my frequent errors. If she could accept that with good grace, she could deal with Lady Catherine. While we danced, I noticed Elizabeth’s eyes often strayed to a tall, imposing gentleman across the room.
“I don’t know anyone hereabouts,” I said, curious who he was, “And I should, for someday I may live here, when your father is gone.” She turned a frown on me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t bring up such a terrible eventuality. Not at a dance.” I stepped on her foot. “Forgive me.”
“You are forgiven, sir,” she said, though her tone wasn’t as warm as her words. She glanced at the fellow again. Tall as he was, we would have been of a height if I weren’t spending all of my time slouching.
“For instance, who is that grim faced fellow who refuses to dance?” I asked. “I daresay he’ll be someone I’ll want to know. Someone so grim must be terribly important. Lady Catherine says it’s a person’s duty to know all there is to know about everyone important enough to know about.”
“That’s Mr. Darcy,” she said, her tone frosty. “He does not live around here.”
“Mr. Darcy?” I stomped on her left big toe. “I beg your pardon, cousin. Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy?”
“Apology accepted,” she said. “Yes, I believe that is his name.”
She affected a look of indifference I didn’t believe. Nor was I indifferent, for I recognized the name. He was one of Lady Catherine’s nephews. As he looked about the room, I could see he certainly had her self-importance. Maybe it was a family trait.
So, I’d been right to maintain my act. Of course, being Lady Catherine’s nephew didn’t mean the man was also her informant, though it made it more likely. I realized I would have to meet him. The sycophant I was pretending to be would never miss the chance.
I halted abruptly enough that Elizabeth nearly toppled over. A blush crept up her neck as she righted herself, and she frowned at me again. I tried to contain a certain amount of unkind delight at badgering her so successfully. With her pride and Mr. Darcy’s arrogance, they would be quite the match. Of course, going by the look of him and the knowledge he was Lady Catherine’s nephew, he would never condescend to have her.
“Mr. Darcy is one of Lady Catherine’s nephews,” I said. “I must greet him. I’m sure he wishes to hear of his aunt’s good health and continued acuity. He’s lucky, of course, to have such a woman as his relative. I but receive a small modicum of her attention, and it does me so much good.”
“Sir, we’re in the middle of a dance,” she said, giving me more of a smile than she yet had.
So, my cousin Elizabeth didn’t wish me to speak to the gentleman? “True, but, and I beg your pardon, but we’ve already stopped. I know my patroness, Lady Catherine, would want me to speak to him immediately upon seeing him. Lady Catherine is extremely knowledgeable on what should and shouldn’t be done.”
“Mr. Collins, what will everyone think if we don’t begin dancing again immediately?”
“I do beg your pardon, but are you always so set in your opinions, Cousin Elizabeth?” I said, trying to step around her. “Lady Catherine is set in her opinions, but in a great lady, it is only reasonable.”
She practically scowled at this. While I had insulted her, I despaired at her unguarded reaction. It would never do for her anger to be so easily read if she became my wife, something I was becoming quite sure was a bad idea.
Elizabeth cast a worried glance toward Mr. Darcy. It was clear she would be embarrassed by me, should I speak with the man. While I found that both amusing and a bit hurtful, I also found it interesting. If Mr. Darcy meant nothing to her, my fawning over him wouldn’t concern her. I wondered if she cared for him. What, I thought, would my dear patroness, Lady Catherine, think of that?
Elizabeth did dance with Mr. Darcy once, but it looked as if they argued. Afterward, I stayed by her side, which annoyed her. Obviously seeking a buffer from my attentions, she hurried toward a smiling woman, perhaps a few years older than myself.
The woman didn’t have a face that would inspire sonnets, but she had thoughtful, kind eyes. Not unquestioningly kind, like my cousin Jane’s, but tempered with humor and shrewdness. She also had a fine, tall figure. When her hazel eyes met mine, I felt an instant connection to the amused and slightly withdrawn look there, as if she was content to be seen and see, but knew better than to bother interact with the overly self-important people around her. Unfortunately, I was portraying one of those people.
“Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth was saying, “This is my dearest friend, Miss Charlotte Lucas. Miss Lucas, this is my cousin, Mr. Collins, who is visiting us. He has been most attentive.”
The last was probably a plea for help. I knew she was not enjoying my attentions. I bowed slightly to Miss Lucas.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Collins. How very thoughtful of you to be so attentive to Elizabeth,” Miss Lucas said.
“It is my intention to be attentive to one of my cousins,” I said, putting emphasis on ‘attentive,’ “And I have settled firmly on Miss Elizabeth. I cannot take credit for the idea, however. It was my patroness’s. Lady Catherine is very clever and always thinking of ways I can better myself. I am beyond honored to have her. I’m sorry you cannot meet her, for it would surely be to your pleasure and benefit.”
Miss Lucas exchanged a smile with Elizabeth, but the look she turned on me was kind. “I’m sure it would be, Mr. Collins. We should all be so fortunate as to have a patroness with such stature to take an interest in us. I’d be honored to meet her.”
“Miss Lucas keeps chickens,” Elizabeth said, her eyes straying across the room to rest on Mr. Darcy, who was once again not dancing, though there were many unpartnered ladies about the room. “I suppose your Lady Catherine wouldn’t approve of chickens.”
“On the contrary, and I beg your pardon for contradicting you, cousin, but Lady Catherine feels we should be more industrious and put as much of our income as possible toward savings,” I said. “She is very wise, of course.”
“Well, then,” Miss Lucas said, “She may even approve of my helping in the kitchen. I do so like to fill my days with something useful, don’t you, Mr. Collins? There is only so much time one can spend on tasks like needlework, and I’ve no great aptitude for any instrument or singing, I’m afraid.”
“I’m sure she would approve, as it befits someone of your station, of course,” I said, containing a wince at my own pomposity. “Now, of course, begging your pardon, but if it was her own daughter, the lovely Miss Anne de Bourgh, of whom we spoke, it would be a different matter.”
“Are you well acquainted with Miss de Bourgh?” Miss Lucas asked.
I answered, not paying much attention to my own words. I marveled at how Charlotte Lucas could smile at me and carry on a conversation that sounded perfectly reasonable, all the while seeming interested and, even, kind. Was the poor woman so starved for attention? Even if that was the reason, she had a way about her that charmed me, and it was a balm after Elizabeth’s condescension and a month of putting up with Lady Catherine’s arrogance. A woman like Miss Lucas would make the remaining days of my probation infinitely more bearable. I allowed myself to examine her figure again, thinking she would go a long way toward happier nights as well.
While we conversed, I had to continually remind myself of who I was pretending to be. Twice, I almost asked her to dance. I wanted to dance with her, for our hands to meet even though gloves kept them apart, and our steps to be in time. Not as who I was pretending to be, though. Not as this simpering toady.
I wanted to dance with Charlotte Lucas as myself; a strong, vigorous young man who skillfully guided his partner.
As the evening went on, I couldn’t deny the attraction Miss Lucas held for me. She was tactful and kind, and I felt oddly drawn to her, even though I knew I wasn’t really the man she was being so pleasant to. Miss Lucas would be a good wife, and maybe even more than good, but only if I could satisfy Lady Catherine that I’d tried my hardest to secure one of my cousins first.
I had to propose to Elizabeth. There was no help for it, for Lady Catherine would surely hear of it if I didn’t. As I prepared, I hoped fervently that she would decline. If she said yes, I wasn’t sure I would be able to get myself to go through with it, but I would make certain she didn’t say yes.
I planned it very carefully. I would make the most insulting proposal any woman had ever had. I would speak more of Lady Catherine than of Elizabeth. I would declare I wasn’t interested in money and then mention the money she was expecting to inherit. If she refused me, I would pretend I didn’t believe she meant it, insulting her in every possible way, to insure she’d never change her mind. If by some chance she accepted, I would come up with a new plan, but I didn’t think it was likely.
It worked like a charm. She refused me. I was amazed she stayed polite. To insure I’d made a big enough scene, I pressed her until she hurried from the room.
After Elizabeth left, I could hear her arguing with her mother. Realizing Mrs. Bennet must be trying to change Elizabeth’s mind, I was too worried she might still say yes not to eavesdrop. Her mother ordering her to accept was something I hadn’t counted on. Fortunately, she stood up to her mother, only firming my resolve not to wed her. I couldn’t have that kind of woman as a wife, even if I wanted her, which I didn’t. Not after meeting Charlotte.
Then Mr. Bennet began to speak and I held my breath so I could hear, for I’d already realized Elizabeth put more stock in her father’s words. Mr. Bennet said, “An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again if you do.”
Pride & Prejudice Villains Revisited – Redeemed – Reimagined: A Collection of Six Pride and Prejudice Variation Short Stories Page 3