Pride & Prejudice Villains Revisited – Redeemed – Reimagined: A Collection of Six Pride and Prejudice Variation Short Stories

by Renata McMann

“Please, missus,” Sally babbled, “Please take me with you when you go. Don’t leave me here.”

  I couldn’t hear what Charlotte murmured back, nor did I really care. I shook my head. What could I do? Where would we go? We could stay with Charlotte’s parents for a few weeks. That might be long enough for me to find a curacy. Our savings would make one livable for a while. We had succeeded in putting away more than two hundred pounds. We would be poor, but I knew Charlotte could manage.

  Watching Sally, I wanted to weep as well. Six more days. If the news had come just a little later, I would have succeeded.

  As I sat there, watching my wife comfort Sally when I wished she was comforting me, a strange sense of buoyancy invaded me. I sat up straight in my chair. Straighter than I had in a year. Even though our prospects were dire, and I’d just wasted a year of my life living a repugnant lie to gain something I would never have, I was free. I may have lost the living, but now I could regain myself. It felt so good to be free, I don’t think I would even have regretted the loss, were it not for the security I wished to provide Charlotte.

  The next morning, Sunday morning, I met Lady Catherine at the church door. She pointedly snubbed me. When I got up to give my sermon, she preempted me, saying, before the whole congregation, “This will be your last sermon here, Mr. Collins. I will be replacing you.”

  “Very well,” I said, not surprised by her declaration or her deliberately cruel timing. I looked out over the pews. “The lesson today is from Matthew 19:24. And again I say unto you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.” I paused just long enough to let that sink in, watching her ladyship’s eyes widen. “While we must take Jesus at his word, I do not believe that He meant it is impossible for a rich man or a rich woman to go to heaven, just that it will be very difficult. The rich are tempted in ways that the poor are not.”

  Lady Catherine was turning red. I think she would have left if she hadn’t been so stunned, and not the type of woman to back down. Beside her, Anne de Bourgh leaned forward, her usually bland features animated with interest.

  “Some people claim that it is a mistranslation,” I continued, not reading her sermon as I usually did, or even referring to notes. “The word for ‘camel’ in Greek is ‘kamelos,’ but ‘kamilos’ is the word for ‘cable,’ which might mean rope in this context. If that is accepted, then Jesus was saying it is difficult, but not impossible. Whichever meaning, I think Jesus was using hyperbole, which He sometimes did. The rich can go to Heaven. Our merciful God would not deny them simply because they are rich. If they are denied Heaven, it is because they are not worthy. However He judges them, it will be on their thoughts and actions, not their accumulation of wealth.”

  I certainly had her attention.

  “I have to wonder why it is difficult for the rich to—”

  “Be quiet!” Lady Catherine interrupted, standing. “I will not have you here to remind me that your cousin married the man who was engaged to my daughter. I will not have your wife here, who brought her artful friend to seduce Mr. Darcy away from Anne. You are a pompous fool and your wife is a scheming hussy. She is lowborn and ugly. She is not fit—”

  “You will not insult my wife,” I interrupted, anger as I’d rarely felt it shooting through me. It was one thing for Lady Catherine to screech abuse at me, since I surely deserved it in many ways, but Charlotte was blameless. “Charlotte is the most wonderful woman who has ever lived. She is kind and patient, intelligent and loving. She has put up with your meddling with the tolerance of a saint. I know I am not worthy of her, no one is, but I will not further betray her love by allowing you to degrade her. You may object to me, but she has been the perfect woman, and has shown it time and time again by putting up with you. You don’t know what a gem you have in her, and you want to throw it away.”

  I turned to Charlotte, wanting her to know I meant every word I was saying. She was staring at me with wide eyes. Her expression was so shocked, I couldn’t read what other emotions might reside in her.

  “I have every right to get rid of you,” Lady Catherine declared. “I should have done so the moment I learned how scheming you are, with your locked away secrets.”

  “Locked away secrets?” I repeated, unsure of her meaning. Lady Catherine wasn’t one for metaphor.

  “What do you keep in that locked trunk?” She asked with her chin in the air, clearly sure she’d found my most vile transgression.

  I laughed. “I’ll show you.” I came down from the pulpit, intending to lead the way to the rectory.

  Lady Catherine stepped in front of me. “No. Someone will fetch it. I don’t trust anyone as scheming as the two of you.” She spared a glance past me to Charlotte, reigniting my anger.

  In the end, it took two strong men to carry in the chest containing my books. Knowing Lady Catherine would protest me approaching the trunk, as if I could whisk whatever was within into hiding with so many eyes on me, I handed the key to one of her neighbors. He was respected in the community, which should satisfy most, and didn’t toady to Lady Catherine, which satisfied me.

  Kneeling down, the man opened it and said in a puzzled tone, “Books.”

  “Books?” Lady Catherine echoed. She went to look. “This one is in Greek.”

  “Aristotle,” I said.

  “Is this Latin?” she asked, picking one up.

  “Augustine’s Confessions,” I said, moving to take it from her. I didn’t like to see my precious books in her grasping, claw like fingers. Kneeling down, which made her step back, I took all the books out, one by one, and held them up to the crowd that gathered around me, naming each.

  When I was done, Lady Catherine stepped forward again, peering into the bottom of the trunk. “That’s all? Books?” she asked. Behind her, I could see her daughter, open amusement on her face. “Why lock them away?”

  “Because I couldn’t conceal them from you otherwise,” I said, beginning to carefully return them to the chest. Charlotte appeared at my side and started helping me. I tried to catch her eye, but she kept her gaze turned to the task.

  “Why did you want to conceal these books from me?” Lady Catherine demanded, glaring down at me.

  I stood, to my full height, towering over her. “I went to Oxford. You know that. But what you don’t know is that I actually learned something there. I knew you didn’t want an educated man, only one who would do what you asked.”

  All about the church, people murmured. Lady Catherine didn’t acknowledge them, but I could see her face reddening again. She glared at me, her jaw working as if she tried to put together what she wished to say.

  Beside me, Charlotte placed the last book in the chest, closed the lid and stood. Reaching down, I lifted it with ease, hoisting it to my shoulder. Since two men had carried it into the church with obvious difficulty, I knew I was showing off, and meant to. Let them see I wasn’t the man I’d pretended to be. I pitched my voice so everyone would hear what I intended to be my last remarks. “Lady Catherine wants everyone to follow her advice, including whom to hire and whom to marry, and she goes too far. We are not meant to be puppets to her, or shadows of her wishes. She needs to learn to accept people more for who they are. Her rigidity doesn’t serve her well. She could not even find a rector she could accept after three tries.”

  “Mr. Collins,” Miss de Bourgh said in a voice that was louder than I’d ever heard her use. Everyone turned to look at her. “My mother confirmed to the bishop that you have the living weeks ago. It is too late for her to change that. I think if you left and didn’t return, she thought she could convince the bishop to remove you.”

  Charlotte turned to Miss de Bourgh, gave her a deep curtsey and said, “Thank you!” She looked up at me. I still couldn’t read her expression, for all I’d come to know her well over the past months, but, looking down at her, I was struck by how proud I was to have her as my wife.

  “I have never been so entertained in this chu
rch,” Miss de Bourgh said. “I want you to stay, but it might be a good idea for you to leave for a few weeks, until my mother’s anger dies down.”

  A glance at Lady Catherine, her face the color of her prized Damask Roses and sputtering so much she couldn’t speak, confirmed Miss de Bourgh’s advice to be sound. With a bow to Miss de Bourgh, encumbered slightly by my box of books, and a smile for my wife, I strolled from the church, Charlotte at my side.

  Happiness

  “It is settled between us already, that we are to be the happiest couple in the world.” Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 59

  Before arranging for our trip to visit Charlotte’s family, there were two exceedingly important things I had to see to. After depositing my box of books, I took Charlotte to a bench outside to see to the first; my long overdue confession. Although we were visible to anyone who passed on the road, no one could overhear us without our seeing them, not that I cared any longer.

  “I know I’ve used these words too many times for them to have meaning any longer, but I wish to humbly apologize for my behavior. I deceived you as to what kind of man I am. Or, at least, what kind of man I think I am.”

  “Then take this chance to put things right,” she said, smiling at me in that warm, reassuring way I’d come to cherish.

  So I did. I told her everything. How I’d met with my friends, who had once sought this very position. How I’d carefully planned what sort of man could win it. About my first lesson in Lady Catherine’s spying. Looking into her eyes, I told her, because she had the right to know, about how I’d never wanted to marry Elizabeth Bennet and had deliberately sabotaged my proposal to her to insure she wouldn’t accept. I told her how, after speaking with her, Charlotte, at the dance, she was the only woman I wanted. I even included my concerns about becoming what I’d pretended to be.

  Because she is the most wonderful wife there could ever be, Charlotte forgave me, and because she was willing to do that, I told her of my greatest hope; that, eventually, she would come to love me.

  Seeing, at that final confession, my first glimpse of doubt in her eyes, I took her by the hand and pulled her off the bench. Leading my baffled wife inside, on a Sunday morning no less, I brought her to my bedroom. It was time to take care of that second exceedingly important thing.

  Two days later, we did, as Anne de Bourgh had suggested, take a trip to visit Charlotte’s family. At first, I could tell they weren’t overjoyed to see us, or rather, me, but I took their dislike as my due and worked at being who I truly was. Soon, people began to view me as a changed man, the credit for which they gave to Charlotte. I was happy for her to take it. It may not have been given for the exact right reason, but Charlotte surely deserved every accolade a wife could be ascribed.

  During our visit, I soon took to spending much of my days with Mr. Bennet. He was the only other person to whom I imparted the whole truth of my deception, for, in him, I saw a man I hoped would come to view me as the son he didn’t have. In less time than I’d dared hope, he came to see the comedy in what I’d done. I was confident that, eventually, I would gain his trust and regard.

  Near the end of our visit, we, along with every other suitable member of the community, were invited to a dance. Mr. Darcy was in attendance, with his new fiancée, my cousin Elizabeth. Mr. Bingley and his fiancée, Jane Bennet were also there, as were two of my three younger cousins.

  Charlotte, I could tell, was happy to be dressed in her finery and among friends. She headed straight for Elizabeth when we arrived, leaving me to trail after. My cousin Elizabeth and her fiancé, I was quite sure, had been avoiding me. I didn’t blame them, but it was with no small amount of pleasure that I strolled toward them, dressed in my own finery and standing tall and straight so I could look Mr. Darcy in the eyes. It amused me to note that he endeavored to look down at me, but couldn’t.

  Charlotte’s father, Sir William Lucas, came up to them just as we reached them, turning to Mr. Darcy. “Sir, you are carrying away the brightest jewel of Hertfordshire.”

  “The second brightest jewel,” I said. “The former Miss Lucas was the brightest.”

  I saw a flicker of shock on Mr. Darcy’s face. I’m not certain if he reacted because I showed less than my usual respect or because of my calling Charlotte the brightest jewel. Charlotte’s hand found mind and I gave a gentle squeeze.

  “Cousin Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy,” I greeted, realizing some of his shock might also have been because I was using my normal speaking voice, which I was sure neither had heard before that day.

  “Mr. Collins,” Mr. Darcy replied with a nod of acknowledgment. “My cousin Anne informs me that Lady Catherine has taken exception to you.”

  I wondered what else Anne had said, but would never ask. “I’m afraid so. On occasion, for all her frankness, Lady Catherine seems to have a firm dislike of the truth.” I waited to see if he felt I’d overstepped, but his only acknowledgment of my words was a slight smile.

  “I’m sure Mr. Collins was only applying himself properly to his role as rector,” Elizabeth said.

  “Yes, he was,” Charlotte said, her tone vehement.

  I smiled down at her.

  Mr. Darcy cocked his head to the side, obviously reevaluating me. “It seems the next set is about to begin, and I promised Miss Bennet I would dance with her.” He offered Elizabeth his arm. “If you’ll excuse us?”

  “Cousin,” Elizabeth said, by way of farewell.

  Charlotte watched them go with a little sigh, then started to look about for a seat. I touched her arm, leaning down to speak in her ear. “Dance with me, Charlotte.”

  She cast me a distracted smile, not giving up her search. “I wouldn’t want to put you to the trouble,” she said, taking a step toward two empty chairs.

  I reached out and caught her hand. A gentle tug brought her back to me. “I’ve been dreaming of dancing with you since the first night we met,” I told her, using a voice I reserved for her ears alone.

  She colored slightly, her eyes searching mine. “Very well.”

  I lead my wife to join the other couples, and proceeded to show her that I could dance as well as, if not better than, any man there. I knew there were many eyes upon us, but I ignored them, just as I ignored propriety and danced with Charlotte again, and yet again, and on through the evening. There would be time for proper behavior at another dance. For tonight, I owned Charlotte a year’s worth, and I intended to pay her back in full.

  Later that night, when we were alone in our room at Lucas Lodge, Charlotte stopped me before I could climb into bed. Silently taking my hands, she placed one on her waist, clasping the other, as if we were about to waltz. She was wearing only her night clothes, and her skin was warm under my palm. She looked up at me, seeming almost shy.

  “I’ve never waltzed,” she said. “Will you waltz with me, William?”

  Looking down at her, there were other things I’d rather have done at that moment, but I supposed they could wait until later. “It would be my honor,” I said.

  Humming to guide our steps, I spun my beautiful wife, my Charlotte, about the small open space in the room. When she smiled up at me, her eyes glowing, and said, “I love you, William,” I knew everything I’d done, every step I’d taken and misery I’d born, had all been worth it.

  When we returned to Hunsford, I stopped the spying by making it clear we would let go any servant who talked about us. Sally became fiercely loyal and was exceedingly grateful we forgave her for spying. I felt that if Charlotte could forgive me for my actions to please Lady Catherine, I could forgive Sally. She married a local farmer and Charlotte was godmother to their first child. Free of Lady Catherine’s dictates, Charlotte and I became active in helping those in our parish. Eventually, even Lady Catherine realized that Charlotte was often a better judge of who needed help than she was.

  Miss de Bourgh was a true friend to Charlotte and insisted we still come to Rosings for dinner now and then. Charlotte found other women in the community to befriend,
and I came to be on good terms with some of their husbands. I built some shelves in my study and put out all of my books. I kept writing my own sermons, though now they were truly mine, and invited some of my former friends to visit.

  As time went on, Charlotte gave me the gift of children. All three of them are a constant joy to us and I have been able to teach my son both my love of learning and my enjoyment of physical work. I can truly say that Charlotte has made me the happiest of men.

  As for Lady Catherine, for the first year she had her coachman take her to a neighboring parish to attend church and Charlotte and I never visited Rosings, though Miss de Bourgh frequently called on us. One day, Lady Catherine surprised everyone by showing up and sitting in her pew. She nodded to me when the service was over and continued attending. She sometimes spoke to me briefly, criticizing my sermon. When Lady Catherine spent money to repair a local road, I praised her in my oration. As she left the church, she told me she knew better than to listen to what I said. I replied that only Charlotte would have the kindness of heart to forgive my deception.

  "If not for me, you wouldn't have married her," she told me.

  I agreed with her. If not for Lady Catherine, I wouldn't have the living, a community, my wonderful children and my beautiful, perfect wife.

  ~ The End ~

  Caroline and the Footman

  Caroline and the Footman is a deliberate attempt to see if Miss Bingley can be made to be sympathetic. She is definitely a villain in Jane Austen’s work, since she is willing to hurt others for her own benefit. She undermines herself in almost every scene she has with Darcy, so it is equally hard to think of her as intelligent. In order to make her a likable heroine, she needed a complete change in character as well as hidden motivation.

  Prologue

  She hugged him with tears in her eyes. Her brother was separating them, although he didn’t realize it. Robert slid his arms around her, stroking her back as he held her close. She could feel the calluses on his hands snag the silk of her gown, and she resented it. Not the calluses, but the silk.