Darcy and Bingley arrived a bit earlier than expected for tea and found themselves closeted alone with Mr. Collins. The minister, believing himself to be in safe company, confided his fears that the Bennet women were lacking in guidance.
“Of course, not Miss Jane, she has always been above reproach, but as for the others, I believe even my presence has had no effect to change their ways. Are you aware that they don’t even say grace before breakfast?”
“That is hardly enough to earn heathen status,” Darcy replied flatly, but found his patience with the man decreasing with each passing moment.
“Well, no. But they have also been permitted to indulge in an assortment of pastimes that are inappropriate to women in general. More than once I have had to caution Mr. Bennet to curtail the reading material they are allowed. Too much learning in a lady is not only unnecessary, but dangerous.”
“Perhaps if ladies read more, your unfortunate incident would never have taken place.” Bingley replied with a hint of humor, but it fell upon deaf ears.
“Oh, my dear sir, nothing can be further from the truth. Miss Mary’s tampering with the biological sciences are entirely to blame for this. Had she been better monitored; it would have not happened. Imagine! Letting one’s daughter dabble in medicine, herbs are dangerous.”
“Indeed, but the first physicians were women, and very astute in the usage of herbs. It was not until the Dark Ages that women were restricted from this study. A great wrong to be sure. My own sister and cousin are very well educated in the sciences, and mathematics as well. Have you a similar opinion of them?” Darcy countered, his irritation growing.
Taken aback, Mr. Collins fell silent for a moment. He dared not pass judgement as to the choices made by his betters, even if he believed it wrong.
“I am sure that Miss Darcy and Miss de Bourgh have also been taught caution, but the Bennets have not had the circumstance to afford the level of tutelage as your relations.”
“Nor, I believe, have you, yet you choose to pass judgement.” Darcy continued, hoping the silly man would cease his prattle. However, feeling insulted, Mr. Collins was oblivious to the subtle suggestion.
“It is true that my education is limited to my calling, and as such I must rely upon biblical text for reference as well as the guidance of my patroness. Your esteemed aunt has many excellent opinions on all subjects.”
“I am well aware, but that does not mean they are shared.”
“Well perhaps not, but Lady Catherine’s views on hunting are most considerate of living beings. She will only allow the kindest of slaughter for her table and has never taken up arms. Are you aware that one of Miss Elizabeth’s favorite hobbies is shooting? I was greatly shocked when she made the admission. It was a source of pride for which I immediately chastised her.”
This time Darcy permitted himself to laugh directly at Mr. Collins. As an avid hunter himself, it had given him a common subject to discuss with Elizabeth. This had resulted in an outing scheduled for later in the week, one he looked forward to with relish. Feeling the need to goad the man into silence, Darcy replied just as the ladies joined them.
“Well, Mr. Collins, if that is your opinion, then I suggest you stay well out of range. Miss Bennet’s reputation as a fine shot is well known. We should not want something to happen to you.”
Having overheard just the last of the conversation, Elizabeth sent a sharp look of censure in Darcy’s direction. Mr. Collins appeared ready to faint. What had the men discussed in their absence? Vowing to demand an explanation later, Elizabeth changed the subject.
“Miss Lucas has graciously offered to join our party. You do remember her Cousin William?”
Visibly relaxing, Mr. Collins let out a held breath of anxiety and forced a weak smile as Charlotte crossed the room to sit beside him. Now more than ever, he needed to be gone from Longbourn, but at least he had one ally.
~25~
Three days later…
The day of Lydia Bennet’s wedding had dawned with bright sunshine, with blue skies that held no chance of the rain that had plagued the region. Charlotte Lucas reflected on her previous encounter with Mr. Collins and found the weather defined her mood, for she was pleased with herself. Tea, a simple and usually safe social gathering, had escalated with tension before it even began. But, in the end it had been completely to her advantage.
“I was so distressed by your letter, so much so that I felt it necessary to be assured of your safety in person. Now, I can clearly understand your concerns. It is a most delicate thing to balance a friendly association with one’s relations when they clearly do not appreciate you. But you must understand that the Bennet ladies have very little experience when it comes to the needs of gentlemen, especially ones as sensitive as yourself. Their play, however harmless in intention often results in unfortunate occurrences.”
“It is good of you to see my side of things, Miss Lucas. I find that there are so few ladies who possess the compassion that you so generously bestow upon me. Even Lady Catherine is not so kind.”
Charlotte had spent the next part of the hour catering to Mr. Collins’ every word with sympathetic replies. Having found an ear for his voice, one that did not contradict or redirect, moved him to make advances. Now, as she made last minute adjustments to the centerpiece, Charlotte anticipated her next move. Once the ceremony was over and dancing begun, she would convince Mr. Collins to accompany her back to Lucas Lodge. Under the false pretense of having forgotten her gift to the bride, she would have him completely to herself for nearly an hour. If all went according to plan, much would be accomplished to secure his attentions completely.
*****
Elizabeth Bennet thoughts also strayed to that same afternoon tea. However, no designs of seduction enterer her mind. Mr. Darcy had continued to grow more agreeable in her opinion, but she wished he did not always resort to the use of money to ensure her appreciation. And now, it mattered not what he was, for she would not be a part of it. After nearly two hours in the sitting room, Jane and Bingley, wanting some chaperoned privacy, suggested a walk in the shrubbery. Longbourn, having a limited space for gardens, did boast a one-acre miniature maze. Having been planted by Elizabeth’s grandfather, it was still generations away from becoming a great walled attraction. Now, the waist high shrubs provided an acceptable place for courting visits. It was here that the couples paired off, with Elizabeth and Darcy once again taking up the rear. Having long exhausted the mundane subjects of weather and health, Elizabeth spoke candidly of her youngest sister’s upcoming wedding.
“I was under the impression that Mr. Wickham was merely a volunteer. How ever did he acquire a commission?”
“Sometimes a commission can be bestowed based upon merit… for heroism or exemplary service,” Darcy replied, but looked away as he spoke, causing Elizabeth to be suspicious that he was withholding something. Not one to be kept in the dark, she stopped their stroll and faced him.
“From what you have said previously, and if it is to be believed, then I hardly think Mr. Wickham is that sort of person.”
Darcy only sighed; he knew it was impossible to lie to a woman as astute as Elizabeth. Eventually, they always discovered the truth and then resented not being told in the first place. But he feared her reaction.
“I had wanted to keep it a secret, and request that you do so…I arranged it.”
“Whatever for? I thought you disliked him.”
“Dislike is being kind. I did not do it out of any great regard for Wickham… I did it for you…”
“Me? I don’t see how… Oh! You bribed him to be sympathetic at the hearing! Did you not have faith in my innocence?”
Darcy winced at the accusation, but it was painfully accurate. He had resorted to bribery, and not just once. It seemed like his entire life, and thousands of pounds had been spent bribing George Wickham to prevent the ruin of someone he loved. Money was a blessing and a curse.
“Of course, I did, but I had no faith in his ability t
o be impartial. I would not see you treated unjustly because of me. Surely you are aware that I have grown fond of you…more than fond. My feelings, are difficult for me to express because despite my reservations, and what my common sense says will only be disaster… despite everything, I have fallen in love with you.”
Elizabeth swallowed heavily as she digested the declaration. Her first reaction was to be overwhelmed with joy, but she was never one to act solely upon emotion. What did he mean by “despite everything”? What everything? Releasing his arm, Elizabeth put space between them, feeling a twinge of anger nag her heart. Turning back to where he stood, Elizabeth looked squarely into his eyes.
“Despite what? My lack of fortune? My mother who cannot mind her mouth? My father who is far to tolerant of my sister’s wild behavior? If money was my only concern in choosing a husband, then I would have done my best to please Mr. Collins. If my family is objectionable then so am I. It must be easy to bribe away those that offend, not everyone is so fortunate. We must make the best with what we have, but we do have love, despite our flaws. I could never accept any offer that is done out of pity. Love, is all that is required for true happiness in marriage… only love.”
Stunned by not only the vehemence of her tone, but also its brutal accuracy, Darcy was temporarily frozen and it was some moments before he recovered his speech.
“I see I have offended you…my apologies. I shall bother you no further, but answer me this one question. Would you marry to save yourself from potential poverty? To save your family?”
“Is that how you see me? As some sort of prostitute? Which is worse? The person selling the item or the buyer? It is very easy for a man that is free to do as he pleases to judge others who cannot.”
To this Darcy had no reply, for it made him an equally guilty party. Bowing deeply, he turned and walked away, unable to face his own guilt. Elizabeth silently watched him go, unaware that her fists were clenched in rage until he was gone. It was only then, that she allowed a single tear of regret to roll down her cheek. For all of her righteous indignation, she returned his love. Apparently, love was not enough.
~26~
The wedding of Lydia Bennet to Lt. George Wickham was a small affair, held in the garden of the bride’s soon to be former home. However, her sisters and mother did their best to make it as charming as possible. For despite the swiftness of the engagement, no one could deny that the couple were not well suited. Barely five minutes after the vows had been said, the two broke out into an argument over refreshments that required intervention from the bride’s father. Having witnessed many a silly tantrum from his youngest child, Mr. Bennet now put the responsibility of Lydia’s behavior squarely upon her new husband.
“Mr. Wickham, I suggest you set some parameters immediately, for what you permit from day one, expect to do so for the rest of your life,”
“I am now a married lady, I may drink as much wine as I please,” Lydia insisted.
“And I will not have any wife of mine slobbering drunk, even if it is her wedding day. Need I remind you so soon of your vows to love, honor AND obey?”
To this, Lydia pouted, but removed her hand from the wine glass, waving her wedding band so all may clearly see and admire the tiny diamond, waiting only until Wickham’s attention was diverted before she stole a deep draught. Her husband might believe he was in charge, but he would learn quickly who truly gave the orders. Resuming her smiles, Lydia prattled endlessly until each of her sisters made an excuse to leave the main table. Kitty and Mary taking seats at the pianoforte, and Jane to be near her own finance. This evacuation left Elizabeth feeling like a stranger in her own home. Scanning the festivities, she noted a representative of nearly every local family. Some simply came out of polite obligation and the benefit of a good meal. Others, to witness the miracle of someone actually marrying Lydia Bennet. However, Elizabeth keenly noted who was absent. Mr. Collins, having officiated the ceremony, immediately disappeared afterwards, coinciding with the disappearance of Charlotte Lucas. To this discovery, Elizabeth smiled sadly and hoped that Charlotte knew what she was doing. Unable to imagine being so desperate as to orchestrate a proposal from Mr. Collins, Elizabeth wondered if that predicament would be her future, for another absence, one more apparent to her pained heart, was that of Mr. Darcy. Since her accusations of snobbery, she had not seen him once. Even when she accompanied Jane to Netherfield the previous morning, Darcy had chosen to avoid her presence, leaving only a sealed letter addressed to her. Even now, she had yet to read it, feeling both guilty for her actions, yet justified in her anger. Lydia’s wedding had only served to exacerbate her feelings as she imagined herself repeating the same vows to Darcy. How could she have been so stupid? Leaving the party, Elizabeth sought the quiet comfort of her chamber and locking the door, crawled under the counterpane, drawing it over her head. It was here that she could force her self to read his final words, and cry if she needed where no one would know. With trembling hands, she traced the outline of the filigreed initial embedded in the seal, fixing the image in her mind before breaking it. A single folded sheet, the paper was of a fine texture and smelled faintly of the spicy shaving soap Elizabeth had found intensely seductive. It was as if the paper was more than just plant fibers and ink, it was an echo of the man himself. Breathing in the scent, she closed her eyes for a long moment before finally reading his words.
My dear Miss Bennet,
I wish to provide some clarity to what I hope has not become an irreparable misunderstanding. When I spoke of reservations, they were about my own faults, for I have many. As a man whose obligations extend to the care and responsibility of not only a large estate, but also various investments in businesses that employ hundreds of people, my reserve was to prevent your unhappiness. I am often gone from home for long periods of time, in which any spouse I might be fortunate enough to have, could feel neglected. My relations, despite their connections and titles, are often difficult to bear, a situation I would spare you. For these presumptions, I apologize if I have been mistaken for it was never my intent to insult anything that is yours. As for offering money to Mr. Wickham, of that I am repeatedly guilty. In many ways, I consider my family and its money responsible for creating the man he has become. He was raised to be a gentleman, but never have the funds to truly be accepted as one. Hopefully, that deficit has finally been repaid, and it results in the happiness of your sister, all the better. Money should be used for happiness, but it cannot buy the most important thing… Love.
Elizabeth crumpled the letter he had not even bothered to sign, never before had she so greatly misjudged anyone, and the loss of Darcy was unbearable.
*****
As Elizabeth lamented the results of her inability to refrain from speaking her mind, Charlotte Lucas sat primly next to Mr. Collins, only providing murmurs of agreement to his every word. The ruse she had contrived to orchestrate their present state had been quite easy as Mr. Collins, having completed his duties as officiant, could not remove himself from the Bennets quicker.
“While my cousins are lively as one would expect from ladies their age, I find myself quite overcome by their chatter. This is not compatible with my nerves as I have yet to restore any trust in them.”
“Of course, but you do realize that they meant no harm?”
Charlotte had continued to subtly suggest innocence as a way to calm his fears, and instill herself as the voice of reason, but she had observed the way Mr. Collins still looked at Elizabeth. Further measures were needed to turn his affections.
“Mr. Collins, tell me more about Lady Catherine, what sort of person is she?”
Pleased to be provided with a subject that he deemed himself an authority, Mr. Collins launched upon a ten-minute oration of his patroness’ infinite attribute of benevolence.
“She is most generous, but I am sympathetic to her worries about Miss Anne.”
“Anne? Lady Catherine’s daughter?”
“Yes. A sickly young lady, she is engaged to
Mr. Darcy. A situation that causes me great concern as he pays an inappropriate amount of attention to Miss Elizabeth. I often wonder at her reaction if she were to discover it, but it is not my place to question the actions of my superiors.”
“But as a man of God, should you not interfere? Perhaps Elizabeth harbors some return of his attentions. Should she not be informed of this engagement?”
Mr. Collins did not reply, for at one time, he had believed Miss Elizabeth Bennet to be the perfect choice of wife. However, after recent events, he deemed any flirtation between Elizabeth and Darcy none of his business. It would be a just punishment for toying with his own affections when she discovered that Darcy belonged to another. Besides, he still feared what Darcy might tell his aunt of the attempted poisoning. A position as vicar at Rosings was not to be risked on any account. Pulling his hat forward to shield his eyes, Mr. Collins was able to study the woman beside him without being obvious. The more he did, the greater Miss Lucas rose in his opinion. Her mode of dress was modest, the way she folded her gloved hands in her lap a perfect display of deportment. Nor, had he ever heard her utter a word of disparagement about anyone. Why had he not noticed her before? It had to be the bewitchment of his eyes when surrounded by the Bennet women. God must have sent him to Longbourn for one last temptation before revealing his true future mate. Charlotte Lucas was that lady.
Lost in his thoughts, Mr. Collins stopped paying attention to his driving. The horse, an old mare, long past her prime, seemed to know the way to her home by memory and plodded slowly. However, the day was warm and under the harness, hidden by leather and buckle, was a mass of briars, tied with a blue silk ribbon. Charlotte placed it there herself, knowing that any sharp tug on the reigns would send the horse rearing. It was an old trick her brother used to play when they rode as children. Charlotte had been sent sliding off more than once when she neglected to inspect her mount. With Lucas Lodge less than a mile away, Charlotte needed to act now.
Refusing Mr Collins Page 9