William Collins, having discovered what he believed to be a truly interested audience, quickly forgot the beautiful Jane Bennet. A cold and sad wife was not to his liking, and, upon further observation, Miss Elizabeth was not only equally beautiful, but of a fullness in figure he found far more appealing. Taking one of her hands, he tucked it in his elbow, insisting upon her complete attentions.
“Ah Miss Eliza, do allow me to speak of the delights that Rosings has to offer. I know you will find it as pleasing as I do, if not more so.”
Elizabeth repressed a shudder of revulsion as his clammy hand touched hers, but she was of stern constitution. Entertain Mr. Collins she would, but only until a way to be rid of him could be found… a permanent way.
~4~
One week later…
After having suffered far more lectures upon decorum and obedience than any sane person could rationally tolerate, the young ladies of Longbourn had enough. While they could not escape the constant unwanted attentions of Mr. Collins, they could at least venture out of doors in search of more aimable companionship. The town of Meryton, just a short distance away, was the current host to a regiment of His Majesty’s volunteers. For Lydia and Kitty, it was a great pastime to watch the parade grounds in the hopes of catching the eye of any handsome officer. This particular sport was not enjoyed by their elder siblings, and with Jane pleading a headache, and Elizabeth stating a prior engagement at Lucas Lodge, the remaining four set out for town.
“I hope you do not behave like fools. It is embarrassing to be in the presence of flirts.” Mary cautioned, regretting that she had not created an excuse of her own.
Mr. Collins, in his own state of disappointment to not have Elizabeth accompany them, did his utmost to appear the chaperone. As eldest present, he offered his arm to Mary, who reluctantly took it, but only allowing the barest touch of her gloved fingers to rest upon him. As a person who could not abide filth, Mary was disgusted to discover that Mr. Collins wore the same threadbare suit every day. Now, upon closer proximity, speculated that he rarely bathed. Resisting the urge to wrinkle her nose, Mary held a scented handkerchief to her face, silently counting off the number of herbs known to counter bodily odors. An opportunity to poison the man could not come too quickly.
“Indeed not, a lady must always take care to secure her reputation. Perhaps I may read you a selection from Fordyce’s Sermons on the very subject. It is often said that…”
“Of course, cousin, you have already told us,” Lydia interrupted. She was irritated that her mother had insisted that Mr. Collins attend them. Every time she and Kitty wanted a bit of fun, there was always someone interfering. Slowing her stride, Lydia waited until she was a few paces behind Mary and Mr. Collins before whispering to her sister. They had taken an alternative route to town. Not only did it give the best vantage point to observe the training grounds, the road also passed by a spring fed pond. Of great use to the hobby fisherman, it was of little use to waders. The spring, part of an underground watershed, created a strong undertow, resulting in the unfortunate drowning of unwary bathers. Today, the surface of the pond was still as glass, reflecting the intermittent clouds and overhanging tree branches. Only a small dock, jutting into the depths, disturbed nature’s creation. To any observer, it was the scene of pastoral perfection.
“I have the most brilliant idea, but I shall require your assistance. We are going swimming!” Lydia announced.
“But we are hardly dressed for such… and besides, it’s too cold, and what about the undertow? We haven’t any ropes to tie us to the dock,” Kitty reasoned with reluctance.
“I know that… but he doesn’t.”
“Mary will never agree; she always tells Mama.”
“Let me worry about Mama, I can manage her. Now, just follow my lead and do as I say,” Lydia insisted, a gleam of delight twinkling in her eyes as she elaborated her scheme.
Kitty, always a willing accomplice, eagerly agreed to the plan. Perhaps the embarrassment would send Mr. Collins packing? Or at least, land him in bed with a case of pneumonia. Either way, they would be free of him. Trotting up to where Mary was pointing out various houses in the distance, stating the names and rank of their occupants, Kitty smiled beseechingly.
“Cousin? Can we not stop for a bit? I fear that I have worn the wrong shoes for walking.”
“Again? How many times must you be told to be sensible? We have another mile yet!” Mary snapped.
“Of course, we can, remember Cousin Mary, it is best to be forgiving.”
Frowning, Mary knew her sisters were hatching something, but as usual, was helpless to stop them. Stomping her own booted foot in defiance, she folded her arms and followed to where Lydia sat upon the wooden dock of the pond. Having already removed her own slippers, Lydia’s feet dangled in the icy waters. Ignoring the cold, she kicked gently, sending a small spray of water upwards.
“This is most refreshing; you really should try it.”
“That water is brackish and filled with leeches!”
“Don’t be a spoiler Mary, they are just having a bit of sport,” Collins said and quickly removed his own shoes, sinking down next to Lydia, while Kitty, with skirt raised to her calves, waded along the edge.
“The mud is so wonderful over here,” Kitty said as she stepped gingerly through a clump of reeds.
“Be careful of snakes… they love the water’s edge.” Mary cautioned from the safety of the bank. Never a strong swimmer, she preferred the security of dry land. Fanning herself with a glove, she scanned the horizon absently, wishing herself elsewhere as the drone of Mr. Collins’ voice could be heard both encouraging and admonishing their play.
“Oh, Cousin William, just look at those lily pads. I should love one of the flowers.”
“I fear they are quite out of reach my dear Lydia.”
“Surely with your longer arms, I might have one?”
Lydia’s voice had taken on the pleading croon she utilized when wanting her way. Batting her eyelashes, she smiled sweetly and laid a hand upon Mr. Collins bicep. Unaccustomed to such brazen touch, one that could only be deemed as affection, he was completely besotted by her charms. Taking a sturdy branch, he leaned precariously out across the pond just as Kitty let out an ear-piercing scream of alarm, followed by a loud splash. Seizing upon what she believed to be a planned distraction, Lydia gave Mr. Collins a mighty shove in an effort to send him in to the icy depths. However, the sudden movement unbalanced her. With wet bare feet against mossy wood, Lydia slid in after and went beneath the surface.
Frozen, Mary watched in horror as two of her companions now struggled to keep afloat. In her exuberance to assist Lydia’s plan to soak Mr. Collins, Kitty had forgotten that the pond had a sudden, steep drop less than two feet from the edge.
“Miss Mary! Run for assistance!” Mr. Collins shouted over Kitty’s splashing, watching for a moment as she crawled to the edge, gasping for air upon the bank. Assured of one Bennet’s safety, he dove beneath the murky water, frantically feeling for the youngest daughter.
Mary, recovering herself, ran as fast as her feet and dignity would allow to the military parade ground. There, familiar faces, dressed in red uniforms, quickly came to her aid.
“Miss Bennet, I suggest you remain here and rest. We shall do everything in our power to provide assistance.” insisted Lt. Denny before issuing orders to a group of enlisted soldiers.
“We shall need rope and blankets… and perhaps the doctor. Inform Colonel Melvin what we are about! Oh… and bring a wagon as well…”
His voice, filled with the surety of one used to dealing with the worst of calamities, had wavered before the mention of a wagon. Casting an eye in Mary’s direction, Lt. Denny had hoped that this detail had gone unnoticed for its possible necessity… fatalities. But his words only provided assurance of success.
Relieved, Mary sank onto a nearby bench while a young recruit fetched her some water, but insisted upon returning with the wagon. Her trust in officers was
limited. Having witnessed her sisters’ infatuations and flirtatious behavior, it was fortunate that neither of them had caused a scandal. Most of the members of the regiment were of the most cordial manners, but a few, one Lt. George Wickham to be exact, was not so trustworthy. He was all smiles and proper etiquette in large company, but in smaller circles, she had often caught him being far to familiar with Lydia. This was so much so, that she had felt the need to mention it to her mother, but nothing positive had come from the revelation.
“Oh Mary! Perhaps if you tried a bit more of Lydia’s ways, we’d have gentlemen courting you. At seventeen, I should think you would be more concerned about your future. Your father will not live forever.”
Mary had only sighed. It was of no use to suggest caution to Mama when it involved potential marriage partners. But if that meant submitting to the attentions of men like Mr. Collins or George Wickham, she’d rather be dead....
~5~
Later that same evening…
The events of the day did not result in the demise of Mr. Collins. Nor, did it permanently harm Lydia or Kitty Bennet. Instead, it served to produce an opposite and unwanted effect upon their mother, for her former unfavorable opinions of Mr. Collins had now changed. He was quickly becoming an excellent choice of husband for one of her daughters. Now, Mrs. Bennet believed, that with a bit of adjustment here and there, Mr. Collins was not nearly as bad as first thought. He had proven to be a most capable and responsible person.
The arrival of regimental officers to the pond had hardly been necessary. For when they got there, it was to find all three persons fully alive and well, save for the wearing of sopping wet clothes.
“It was really no matter at all. Have I mentioned that I was a champion swimmer during my seminary days? It has proven to be a most valuable skill. I cannot imagine what would have happened if it had been just Miss Mary about to save them. It would have been most unfortunate, to be sure.” Mr. Collins insisted, but obligingly accepted a blanket to cover his person. During the rescue, his coat had been lost and the threadbare shirt worn beneath now clung in a most unappealing fashion. Lydia, far worse for wear, sneezed and coughed as she tried to evacuate the remaining pond water from her lungs. Strands of stagnant plants clung to her hair giving the appearance of a strange mermaid gone ashore. For despite the ordeal, Lydia refused to allow an opportunity to be wasted. With her helplessness exaggerated, it resulted in gallantry from Lt. Wickham as he insisted upon carrying her to the wagon. It was by her side that he remained, until transferred into the care of her mother. As for Kitty, a more miserable condition could not be had. For in her survival, she bore the brunt of the fault for the entire incident. It was only after the girls were examined by the doctor, who assured Mrs. Bennet that death was not imminent, that they were excused of all wrong doing. Mary Bennet now took the blame for nearly killing her sisters.
Seated apart from the crowd that now filled Longbourn’s drawing room, Mary seethed in anger. Mr. Collins, deemed the hero of the hour, lost no time in hyperbolizing the entire event. Wearing borrowed clothing from his host, the too small wardrobe threatened to split as he waved his arms in reenactment. Elizabeth, having returned from her visit to Lucas Lodge, listened with amused interest. Knowing the complete truth to be absent, she watched Mary’s face for confirmation.
“As I dove under again and again, my only worry was that I should be too late to save Miss Lydia. What would I have said to Mrs. Bennet when she had entrusted her children into my care? I am a simple man, and can only do so much. Perhaps if Miss Elizabeth had not been otherwise engaged, it might have been avoided. Surely, you would have cautioned against the pond sternly enough?” preened Mr. Collins.
With every utterance he inched closer to Elizabeth. The movement, carefully observed by Mrs. Bennet, sent a smile of approval about her features. Perhaps Lizzy was the perfect choice for Mr. Collins? Feeling her mother’s eyes upon her, Elizabeth shot the elder woman a look of distaste, but it was ignored completely.
“Did Mary not alert these fine officers? She has always demonstrated excellent sense,” Elizabeth countered.
“Well that may be so, but Miss Mary is… well…limited in her abilities.”
To this blatant slur upon Mary Bennet, the room fell into an awkward silence. Although no one present could deny Mary’s lack of social graces, this was extreme in censure. Not willing to sit and be so publicly shamed, Mary silently rose and left the chamber. A visit to cook’s herb garden was directly in order. Mr. Collins would regret his insults to her person. The assortment of plants included everything imaginable, from food stuffs to medicine… to poison.
Within minutes of her departure, conversation returned to more mundane subjects as Mary Bennet was completely forgotten, and the suggestion of a future public ball was met with ready acceptance.
“Call it a celebration of life… and the quick actions of Mr. Collins,” Mrs. Bennet said. For she was feeling quite pleased that her girls, despite the gravity of their actions, had managed to garner the interest of several eligible gentlemen.
~6~
One week later…
Mary Bennet paged through every book she possessed on the usage of plants to find a way to show Mr. Collins that she was indeed well versed in botany…well enough to make him exceedingly ill if she chose. However, many of the specimens depicted, either held medicinal properties or were safely edible. Of those carefully labeled with the clear skull and crossbones indicative of poison, she was apprehensive in using upon him. For while the vision of Mr. Collins repeatedly emptying his stomach danced through her mind, the prospect of actually killing him also flirted. How did one achieve such a desired result without being caught? And was he worth the trouble? He had greatly insulted not just her person, but her mind, and that was a transgression for which she could not forgive. Seventeen years of being told she was plain and unsociable had pushed her to refine what talents she had. Unfortunately, without any proper tutelage, it had been difficult. It was all well and good for her sisters to smile prettily at every man who passed their way, but when one had to compete with such beauty, it was impossible. To be ignored by handsome men was one thing, to be insulted by a cretin like Collins was entirely another matter. He would suffer for his actions, but it may take longer than she originally planned. So, it was with true happiness that Mary received the news that Jane’s former suitor, Mr. Bingley had returned to Netherfield. This time, he was not accompanied by his sisters, but another gentleman, a Mr. Darcy. Two wealthy unmarried men would provide the perfect distraction. No one would pay the slightest attention to her, a freedom she relished and now required.
*****
The news of Mr. Bingley’s return was not met with the same happiness by other residents of Longbourn. Mr. Collins, having settled upon Elizabeth as his choice of future wife, resented the intrusion. While he was pleased for Miss Jane, the dark brooding stare of Mr. Darcy upon his intended filled him with jealousy. Miss Elizabeth, as expected of a true lady, paid the man no attention, but that did little to dissuade Darcy as his eyes followed her when in company. As a man ten times his own consequence, Collins was made acutely aware of his inadequacies more than ever. Where Mr. Darcy was tall and well defined by constant physical activity, Mr. Collins was soft and required heeled shoes. Still wearing the borrowed clothes of Mr. Bennet, the difference in attire was that of pauper to prince. This aspect, formerly deemed unimportant and extravagant, now forced the penny-pinching reverend to dip into his carefully hoarded savings. For with attendance at a ball in his future, it would not do to be seen wearing his host’s castoffs. Despite the expense, Mr. Collins was hardy penniless. In addition to his future inheritance of Longbourn, he also earned nearly seven hundred pounds a year for his services to Rosings, and held an account with Regents Bank totaling nearly three thousand pounds. He was an excellent catch, to be sure, but nothing when compared to the master of Pemberley. He would have to move quickly to convince Elizabeth of his sincere feelings. Now, as he carefu
lly tied his new silk neckcloth, winding it twice before tucking the end under his vest, no fault could be found with his appearance. But, upon further inspection, Mr. Collins decided that perhaps a bit of restriction in his diet was in order. Sorting through his meager belongings, he found the small leather case containing his daily medicinals. As a man fond of gardening, he had taken to the regular ingestion of various herbs. Some, meant only to stimulate the appetite and promote a freshness of breath, but others, far more rare and exotic, promised to increase male virility. Taking a double measure of ginseng root and dried oysters, he swallowed the mess with a heavy gulp. Surely, no lady could resist his charms when he was so well fortified. Going below, Mr. Collins sought to test his beliefs, but found more than his share of competition. For already taking tea was not only Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, but six regimental officers. His face fell upon the sight of Miss Elizabeth, engaged in an animated conversation as she sat between two red coated men. The desire to interrupt, perhaps saving her from the dull topics of warfare, propelled his steps in her direction, but of his arrival, no notice was taken, no invitation to join them was offered. Nodding a greeting, he was forced to move absently about the room, for all available seating was taken. Seeing the man, he now viewed as his nemesis standing off in a corner, Mr. Collins addressed Mr. Darcy.
“Sir, I find myself reminded by present company of many a tea taken with your esteemed aunt, my patroness.”
Darcy looked down upon the man before him. It was the last person with whom he wished to speak. All thoughts were upon a certain dark-haired young lady across the room. How easily Miss Elizabeth Bennet engaged in polite conversation. The men flocked to her as if she were a butterfly, yet such delicacy was not an appropriate descriptor for the woman who continued to capture his attentions. Missing were the conniving ways so apparent in her mother and younger sisters. Also absent was the all-consuming goodness of her sister Jane. He had not believed Charles’ description of Jane Bennet, believing it to be merely a passing infatuation. However, once seeing the couple together, Darcy had to acknowledge that they were perfectly matched despite Miss Bennet’s inferior station. But, where Jane was an angel, Elizabeth had a mysterious spark to her. No, Miss Elizabeth would not acquiesce to anyone’s opinions, especially if she believed them to be wrong. Darcy had been content to merely admire her from a distance. She was an unobtainable prize. For all of Eliza Bennet’s attributes, they were wholly unsuited, but perhaps this was not a shared opinion of the man before him. Everyone knew that the Reverend Collins came to Longbourn with the sole purpose of selecting a wife, but no lady could be more ill suited than Elizabeth. The man was insufferable. A few years of marriage to someone like him would surely crush her spirit, a tragedy in the extreme. The more Darcy studied the two, the greater the desire to prevent any such alliance grew in its logic, overriding any qualms he held about her station and connections. For he too was lonely, and long past the time in which he should have married. Pemberley needed a mistress and he needed a wife.
Refusing Mr Collins Page 2