“Come now Darcy, she’s perfect for you. I’ll be the first to admit, her mother is a complete disaster, and they are socially beneath us. But my own grandfather would be so as well. Do remember, my fortune comes from his own hard labor. There is no shame in work or being without money, it is what one does that matters. My Jane is of the highest caliber… as is her sister. Besides, you need someone with a bit of spirit.”
Darcy had not replied, but had taken the advice. Far too often he had suffered the machinations of society ladies, wealthy or not. Charles’ own sister Caroline, was among them. All they saw was his income, never him. It had not taken many encounters to realize that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was indeed different. But as a woman of no dowry, her fine intellect and sharp wit could be curtailed by the need to marry. Imagining his own dear sister Georgiana in a similar state, Darcy desired to prevent such a disaster. A rescue… but would she love him for it? Now, as he watched her gentle fingers upon the man who her own mother deemed a suitable match, his stomach turned slightly. Elizabeth deserved better than the likes of Mr. Collins. Having only been acquainted a very short time, it was far to soon to suggest an engagement, but would Mr. Collins wait so long? Would Elizabeth accept him if he did? The questions rattled his mind, shaking his rationale. From his own experiences with domineering mothers, Darcy was well versed with the damage a parent could do. Having lost his own mother soon after his sister’s birth, Darcy’s Aunt Catherine had attempted to fill the void. However, it was not out of love that Lady Catherine de Bourgh assumed that role. No, Aunt Catherine only loved herself, and how she ranked in society. This had resulted in the oppression of her only child, now a sickly recluse. While he could not imagine Elizabeth Bennet becoming like his cousin Anne, neither was he in the same position. Men possessed far more freedom than women, who must act in self-preservation. As he stood contemplating the scene before him, the whimpering of Mr. Collins soon subsided.
“I believe he has fallen asleep.” Elizabeth whispered and rose from her place to join Darcy.
“It may be an hour or so before anyone returns,” he said, gazing up at the cloudless sky. The day had become unusually warm and he was tempted to remove his neckcloth and coat, but propriety required otherwise, even in this remote location. Seeing his discomfort, Elizabeth attempted to put him at ease.
“Yes, but we are not without fortification. Mr. Bingley left the picnic luncheon for just that concern. I suggest we repair somewhere out of the direct sun and enjoy the peace while we can. Never have I ever seen a man carry on so! I dislike speaking ill of someone, but Mr. Collins tries my patience in the extreme.”
As the only shady area was rather damp, Darcy offered his frock coat as a blanket, one eagerly accepted by Elizabeth as she sat down upon it, opening the large wicker basket.
“Ginger water? Or perhaps a selection of fruit and cheese?” she suggested.
Taking the space beside her, Darcy accepted the offerings, pleased with the turn of events. And for the next two hours, the two shared delightful conversation as Darcy indulged Elizabeth’s inquisition into his childhood and personal preferences in many subjects. They discussed books and politics, a refreshing change from the safety of weather and general health. To any observer, a more aimable pair could not be found. It was in this state they were discovered some time later as the shouts of Charles Bingley alerted them to the arrival of the rescue party. As for Mr. Collins, he snored through the entire ordeal, sustaining a severe sunburn in the process, waking only when roused by an irritated Darcy for ending his time with Elizabeth. However, Mr. Collins’ former wails of self-pity did not resume as he was subdued by the attentions given to his person as he regaled the circumstances leading to his present condition. Only Elizabeth noticed that he did not repeat his claims of being pushed, and she silently prayed that he had been mistaken.
~10~
Over the next week, all of the residents of Longbourn were focused upon two things, the upcoming ball at Meryton, and the recovery of the Reverend William Collins. Having been pronounced the victim of a nasty fall, and the recipient of stitches to close the gash on his head, he had made the most of his situation. Despite the visiting doctor’s expectation of a full recovery in a relatively short time, Mr. Collins insisted upon remaining in bed. This was a great inconvenience to all, save Mrs. Bennet. For her, it was seen as yet another opportunity to endear one of her girls into the man’s graces. Having required her daughters to take turns amusing him, it generally fell upon Elizabeth and Jane, for the two youngest made regular excuses, and Mary had been refused completely.
“My dear Mrs. Bennet, Miss Mary and I seem to be most incompatible. I fear upsetting her further by my presence. Perhaps it is best if Miss Eliza tend me,” he had said in an attempt to masque his true opinion. But in fact, Mr. Collins was now terrified of Mary Bennet. He blamed her entirely for his present state and feared what actions she may take for which he could not defend. A man in his condition could not be too careful, but he harbored no such animosity towards the other Bennets. Did not every family have one or two members who were not quite right?
With Mr. Bingley now in regular attendance, Elizabeth found herself spending many hours suffering through the prattle of Mr. Collins as he told what she believed to be nearly a dozen versions of his life. Each one more exaggerated than the last, it was more than one person could bear. Only when he slept, often with the assistance of laudanum, did she have any reprieve. This arrangement, would have ordinarily suited Mrs. Bennet, but she was a shrewd woman. Having observed the interest of Mr. Darcy towards her second child, all thoughts of Lizzy and a marriage to Mr. Collins had been abandoned. He must be forced to accept Mary. After a week of acquiescing to his demands, Mrs. Bennet entered the sick room. A man of little consequence, heir to Longbourn or not, would not interfere with Elizabeth possible making the match of the season.
“Elizabeth, you have a visitor below. Go make yourself presentable, I should like a word with Mr. Collins.”
“I am at your disposal, Madam. Have you a spiritual matter of some concern?”
Mr. Collins had yet to cease in his attempts to form confidences, offering religious advice when it was neither solicited or relevant. However, Mrs. Bennet would use this to her advantage.
“As a matter of fact, I believe I do… it involves my Mary.”
“Ah, yes… Miss Mary does seem troubled.”
“Of the worst sort. I fear she feels responsible for your injury, but I cannot imagine why. And, now, you refuse her attempts to make amends. Surely a man of your calling can find forgiveness?”
“I…er... that was never my intention.” He mumbled, but could not find a way to argue against such logic.
“I knew it was so! I shall send her up with your tea, surely you will have so many things to discuss.”
“But what of Miss Eliza? I was just telling her my favorite Bible verses.”
“Oh… perhaps another time. I must have Elizabeth chaperone Jane and Mr. Bingley… at least until the engagement is announced. There can be no impropriety, surely you understand.”
Mrs. Bennet, having achieved the purpose of her visit, tucked the counterpane around Mr. Collins and swept from the chamber. All was going according to plan, by Christmas next year, she would have three daughters married.
******
Mary Bennet, oblivious to her mother’s machinations, was hiding in the kitchens. Not only did it house the various dried herbs used for cooking and healing, it was a place her mother rarely visited. At the moment, the vast chamber was quiet. With some hours before dinner preparations were to begin, the aging cook napped in a chair near the fire.
“Sleep while you can, Mrs. Blevins,” Mary whispered and gave the old woman a kiss on the cheek. It was here, away from the noise of her sisters that she had often hid, even learning how to prepare various dishes. As a result, no one questioned the presence of that particular daughter of the house. Moving a heavy kettle over the hob, Mary waited for the water to heat. At
first, she had been pleased when Mr. Collins had refused her company, but now she saw it as just another snub. It was one thing to be overlooked by handsome and wealthy men, but quite another to be treated so by a complete idiot. In truth, she had her share of dances and polite conversation. Some of the young officers that clustered about Lydia and Kitty had shown interest in her. But she wanted far more than that. Watching Jane and Lizzy as they were courted, had provided much food for thought. Although Jane was the epitome of goodness, she was truly rather vapid beyond household tasks. It was Elizabeth who caused her to experience the pangs of jealousy. Lizzy spoke her mind, and was never censured for it. If anything, it caused people to like her even more. Unfortunately, when she spoke it tended to come out all wrong, but most people were kind enough not to make notice. Only Mr. Collins had so openly insulted her. Fingering the small cloth bag in her pocket, Mary contemplated throwing it away. He was not worth the trouble. Besides, there was to be a ball, if she bothered to take care with her appearance, maybe entwine some pearls in her hair… just like Lizzie, who knows who she might meet. It was with this hope that Mary forced a smile as her daydreams were interrupted. The shrill sound of her mother calling her name ruined everything.
~11~
Some hours later…
Elizabeth, after accepting an offer of dinner at Netherfield, bid Darcy and Bingley goodbye and was humming a tune in happiness when she passed by her mother’s personal sitting room. More of a large closet than chamber, it was often the location where Mrs. Bennet had doled out punishments. Two voices, one raised to its usual shrill decibels, belonged to her mother, the other, filled with an air of defiance, was that of Mary. What had her sister done? Pausing, Elizabeth stood quietly and listened. Not one to normally advocate eavesdropping on private conversations, Elizabeth had been worried about Mary. Normally sullen on the best of days, Mary had withdrawn even more so, often making excuses to avoid dinner and guests. Believing the change to be a result of Mr. Collins’ fall, Elizabeth’s fears were at once alleviated then magnified by what she heard.
“I will not spend another minute in that man’s presence. All he does is criticize and treat me like a servant! I wish he had never come here!” Mary sniffed, but her refusal did little to quell her mother’s orders.
“I suggest you change your mind missy! I have not exactly seen eligible men falling at your feet. This is an opportunity not to be wasted. What will become of you when your father dies? Mr. Collins will take possession of this house and leave you in the street, or if feeling charitable, keep you on as a real servant. Is that what you want? Far better to be a wife! You are lucky he has changed his mind about you.”
“Oh, he hasn’t. The only person he speaks well of is Lizzie. Why don’t you tell her to marry him?”
“Lizzy has other options, but I shall keep that in mind. Now go bring him his tea, and remain for at least an hour! Ask him to read to you, then at least the subject will be to your liking. And do try to smile, no one wants a girl that frowns all the time.”
“I won’t do it!”
“You will… or I shall lock you in your room.”
“Go ahead, I shall enjoy the quiet, at least no one will bother me there.”
By now, Mr. Bennet, having tired of hearing voices shouting through the wall, exited his library and stood beside Elizabeth.
“What now?”
“Mama is forcing Mary to tend Mr. Collins.”
“Is that all? I thought you girls were taking turns.”
“We were, but Mama has it in her head that he should marry her.”
“Oh dear…perhaps I will interfere this once. I thought he was rather fond of you…”
“Oh Papa!”
“Indeed, but I had no worries about you ever accepting him. But Mary… well, she’s unpredictable.”
Elizabeth grimaced, but did not reveal her suspicions about Mary’s earlier actions. Her father, for all his faults, was intensely astute in his assessment of their characters. Knocking on the door, he cleared his throat before announcing his presence.
“My dear Mrs. Bennet… Mary… you have made the entire household aware of your conversation… quite possibly the entire county. Now I am sure there is some rational solution that may be met?”
Mary, red faced and angry, stood with her arms folded in defiance, but weakened at the sight of her father. Despite Lizzy being his clear favorite for similarity in mindset, Mr. Bennet had a soft spot for Mary.
“Tell her she must see to Mr. Collins, I insist!”
“He’s horrible!”
“That leaves us a bit of a dilemma. Our guest does require attention if he is to ever leave, and he is indeed horrible. What is to be done? Perhaps something in the way of payment for services is required. After all, as your mother reminds us daily, once I die you may be forced to take some sort of employment should you not marry. Consider this your first posting.”
“Nonsense! She will do as I say!”
“Mrs. Bennet, be silent for one minute while I finish! Perhaps a new dress for the Meryton ball is appropriate? What say you Mary? Is that a fair payment for temporary misery?”
Brightened with the knowledge that someone was sympathetic to her plight, Mary nodded and wiped her nose. It was not going to be easy, but the thought of looking better than her sisters was more enticing than Christmas.
“Jane and I shall spell you a bit as well, you cannot put up with him all the time.” Elizabeth promised.
Appeased, Mrs. Bennet agreed, but then insisted upon a new dress for herself as well. Sighing in aquiesance, her husband only nodded. To Mr. Bennet, it was a small price to pay for some serenity in his own home.
~13~
For the next week, Mary tried her best to be cordial to the man she now saw as her charge, going to the trouble of changing her hair and dress from its usual severity to a softer nature, For if, she did have to resort to some sort of employment, it was excellent practice in dealing with difficult persons. And, as promised, she did have regular relief with the appearance of Jane and Elizabeth. Unfortunately, this did little to motivate Mr. Collins to rise from the sickbed as he now had the attentions of those he deemed best. The change in Mary’s behavior, he attributed to his own tutelage, taking credit for the occasional smiles she bestowed upon him as well as the modification of dress. Reflecting upon his fall, Mr. Collins now believed that had Mary been at fault, it had surely been an accident and was not to blame. He did admit to a certain clumsiness on his part, especially in the presence of ladies. While Elizabeth remained his first choice of the Bennet women, Mary now seemed an excellent alternative. With this in mind, he now found the need to prolong his stay at Longbourn until a decision could be made, but it was indeed difficult. How did one maintain the ruse of illness when the enticement of an upcoming ball presented itself? After much thought, Mr. Collins rationalized that God would forgive his deception if it meant choosing an appropriate mate to assist him in doing his work.
“Oh, I don’t believe I am up to such activity as of yet. Perhaps in another week or so.” Mr. Collins lamented to Elizabeth the previous morning. In taking her turn, Elizabeth had suggested they take some time out of doors. Her request had at first been politely refused, but upon approaching the subject of practicalities Mr. Collins agreed.
“How wise you are Cousin Elizabeth. I had not thought about the need to freshen the chamber, most inconsiderate of me. And of course, the air will do me good, but perhaps just for a short while. Might I have your arm for support?”
Elizabeth resisted the urge to pull a face. Upon entering the chamber that morning, she had been assaulted by a diffusion of odors. The mixture of sweat and chamber pot had been nearly suffocating. Mary had complained of it, but to no avail as Mr. Collins believed that too much bathing would only result in illnesses of the chest.
“Congestion is a serious thing my dear cousin, and in my weakened state… well, it could be disastrous,” he insisted, coughing imaginary phlegm into a yellowed handkerchief
.”
“It is really something. Jenny may give notice after seeing it, I may slip her some of my pocket money as a bribe.” Mary whispered before her sister went inside.
Elizabeth had only shaken her head and requested the maid be sent in once they were safely in the gardens, but Mary had not exaggerated. Even now, as the subtle perfume of late roses tickled her nose, the stench of the guest chamber remained. It was clear that a bath was also in order. Breathing through her mouth, Elizabeth smiled and did her best not to become ill.
*****
Less than five minutes later, armed with clean linens, strong soap and two shiny new shillings in her pocket, Jenny Miller entered the sick room. Having come to Longbourn from the local poorhouse, Jenny had seen her share of filth, but this was beyond words. Until now, nearly a month after his arrival, no one had been permitted to touch a thing. All of Mrs. Bennet’s fine things were ruined. Throwing open the windows so she might draw a breath, the maid began to remove all the soiled items, tossing them into a great pile.
“Should be burnt. Something might be living in those clothes.” she muttered but went about her work. The Bennets had been good to her and she was not about to jeopardize her place by complaining about one man. Eventually he would be gone, and if he did return to take the place, she would find another employer. For she was a good worker, and within an hour, the room was fresh and welcoming once again. All that remained was a sweep of the carpet. Sprinkling wet tea leaves to soak up the dust, Jenny inspected the floor for any other debris. All servants knew that it was a common practice to leave a coin or two about as a test. If she took the money, she was a thief, but if it remained where it was, sloppy in her work. It was only when returned, that a maid was deemed competent and honest. From what she had heard about Mr. Collins, he would be just the type to do something of that sort. Wrapping a cloth around her broom, she thrust it beneath the bed, removing clumps of hair and dust. Nothing out of the ordinary, save a small bag of herbs. Thinking it left to keep away rodents, she tossed it onto the dirty linens. Nearly finished, she plumped the pillows and carefully dusted around Mr. Collins’ personal items, ensuring that everything was in the same place.
Refusing Mr Collins Page 4