by Jann Rowland
Though Elizabeth thought Mr. Darcy prepared to say something caustic in reply, Lady Anne interrupted him, saying: “It is my thought my sister mentioned you to me in a letter, Mr. Collins. It was last spring she installed you in the parsonage, is it not?”
“You are correct,” replied Mr. Collins, his homely face lighting up in pleasure at the notice he was receiving from his patroness’s sister. “Just after Easter I received my ordination and was in the happy position of coming to Lady Catherine’s notice.”
Then Mr. Collins turned to Elizabeth and stated, in a voice so syrupy sweet as to cause Elizabeth to gag: “You have been fortunate to receive the attention of so great personages as these, Cousin. I dare say it will bode well for the future to be recognized with so little effort on your part.”
Elizabeth wished to sink into the floor in mortification. Whatever friendship she had attained from these ladies, it was clearly gone with Mr. Collins’s stupidity. What she would not give for his immediate absence!
The evening could not have proceeded better, in Lady Anne’s opinion. At least it was perfect until Mr. Collins appeared. A perceptive woman, Lady Anne did not miss the man’s interest in Miss Elizabeth, nor had the accounts she had heard of his first sets with the girl given her any reason to suppose his words were motivated by anything less than an intention of making her an offer.
Though Miss Elizabeth was humiliated, Lady Anne left her daughter to raise the girl’s spirits, for if this opportunity was not to be lost to them, she knew she must divert Mr. Collins from his path. When supper ended and the dancing once again began, she moved back to the ballroom with the rest of the company, her eyes open for a chance to speak with the parson. Such an opportunity presented itself shortly thereafter.
“Mr. Collins,” said she in greeting. “If I might have your attention, there is a matter of which I would speak with you.”
The parson gaped at her in surprise, as she intended—if she allowed him to speak first, Anne knew it may be thirty minutes or more before she could turn the conversation to where she desired it to go. It was best to state her case at once, for the man was as much of a dullard as any man she had ever met.
“Thank you,” said Anne, not waiting for him to gather what there was of his wits. “It has come to my attention that you have singled out Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Might I surmise you have come to Hertfordshire intending to make her an offer?”
The man’s face lit up, and his eyes darted to where the young woman was dancing with a man of the neighborhood. It seemed Miss Elizabeth had not missed his sudden scrutiny, for as she passed nearby, there appeared on her cheeks a hint of a stain of embarrassment. Anne determined to ensure Mr. Collins would never provoke such a reaction again.
“I should have known you would understand all within a moment, for you are very like your sister,” said Mr. Collins, preening in his self-satisfaction. To Lady Anne Darcy, being compared to Lady Catherine de Bourgh was not so much of a compliment as the man wished to pay. But instead of allowing him to ramble on about the perfections of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Anne interrupted him.
“Then I should advise you, Mr. Collins, in the most strenuous means possible, to rethink such a strategy, for I assure you my sister would not approve of Miss Elizabeth.”
The silly man stopped and gaped at her, no light of comprehension in his eyes. Then the inevitable sputtering began.
“But . . . but . . . Lady Anne! I have the highest confidence in my cousin’s abilities and in her suitability for the position of mistress of the parsonage. There can be no other interpretation on the matter, I am certain!”
“No, of her capabilities, there is no question,” replied Anne, amused Mr. Collins had forgotten himself enough to contradict the sister of his patroness. “But if you persist in considering Miss Elizabeth suitable, I must question if you have ever met my sister.”
Mr. Collins paused when he appeared likely to further protest. Then he asked, and in a voice more subdued than Anne thought him capable, on what she based her opinion.
“Does my sister ask for your opinion, or does she direct, Mr. Collins?”
“Lady Catherine is the noblest, the most rational and knowledgeable person in the land!” exclaimed Mr. Collins. Anne thought it was more than a little overdone, even for one of Catherine’s toadies. “Surely she knows best in any situation—one cannot go wrong in following her wise counsel to the letter!”
“I am interested to hear you say that, Mr. Collins. If that is so, tell me what you know of your cousin. Does she seem to be the kind of woman to allow another to direct her in anything? Or is she more likely to state her opinions without disguise and follow her own counsel?”
Mr. Collins’s eyes widened in comprehension. “But the respect Lady Catherine commands would induce her to silence, respect, and obedience.”
“It is not my purpose to cast aspersions on your cousin’s character, Mr. Collins. However, it is clear to me there are few adjectives one could use which would be less efficacious in describing your cousin. Quite the contrary, in fact.
“Perhaps another choice would be best? I understand Miss Elizabeth’s sister, Miss Mary, is knowledgeable of religion and pious besides. Does she not sound like the perfect wife for a parson?”
Confident she had made her case, which Mr. Collins would take to heart, Anne left him to his own devices which comprised standing by the side of the dance floor, studying Miss Elizabeth, peering at her as if trying to make her out. Then later when his attention turned to Miss Mary, Anne noted it, confident her point had been made and received.
“Might I assume Mr. Collins will now desist?” asked Georgiana when she joined her a few moments later.
“I have every confidence he has seen the sense in my advice,” replied Anne. “Even if he had proposed, I doubt Miss Elizabeth would have accepted him.”
“Do you not think her father would have insisted on it? Given what we have heard of the family, a marriage to Mr. Collins would secure their future.”
“It is possible,” conceded Anne, “but I do not believe Mr. Bennet would have prevailed on her to accept.”
Nodding, Georgiana drew in closer. “She is wonderful, is she not?”
“With that, I cannot disagree,” replied Anne, watching the vibrant young lady as her current partner whisked her around the room. Further down the line, Anne noted her son also watching her, laughing at his earnest look, one she had not been certain she would ever see, given his lack of interest in any young woman.
“I knew it,” added Georgiana, the smugness clear in her voice. “William never speaks of any young woman. To have mentioned her as often as he did was akin to him shouting his interest from the rooftops.”
“Perhaps it was,” said Anne. “But we must tread lightly, for you know your brother will dig in his heels if he feels he is being led. We must allow him to come to his own realization of her qualifications.”
“Given what I am seeing, that will not be difficult,” replied Georgiana. “He seems half in love with her now.”
“I agree. But his sense of duty and honor are not allowing him to consider her as he ought.”
“Then we must help him to come to the proper conclusion.”
With an absence of mind, Anne nodded to her daughter’s words. There were several possibilities, she thought, though she knew not which one would work. It was best to consider the matter for several more days while observing her son and the young woman who had caught his interest. Lady Anne Darcy had one motive in mind, which was to see to her son’s happiness, which was not at all assured, given the present circumstance. But he was stubborn and not easily led. It would be a monumental task.
Chapter I
Had Darcy considered the matter in advance, he might have predicted what would ensue next. Unfortunately, he had spent the previous day consumed with surprise for his mother and sister’s sudden appearance and most of the evening considering Bingley’s predicament with Miss Bennet. While he did not wish to ponder i
t to any great extent, Darcy was also honest enough to confess that he had thought much of Miss Elizabeth Bennet the previous evening.
Whatever had prompted his distraction, he was soon required to put such matters to the side in favor of the current situation. Miss Bingley had his agreement in her opinion of Miss Bennet, but for different reasons. Darcy was concerned for the girl’s standing in society, family, and lack of dowry, yes, but of greater concern was her lack of any interest in his friend. In Miss Bingley’s eyes, their standing in society must disqualify Miss Bennet, for her suitability to become Darcy’s wife in her eyes must take a serious blow if her brother lost himself enough to propose to Miss Bennet. In short, Darcy could have forgiven the woman’s unfortunate circumstances if she cared for Bingley, while Miss Bingley would do everything in her power to prevent her brother from offering for her, regardless of the girl’s feelings. Had Darcy any evidence of such regard, he might have thought their actions unwarranted and officious.
The morning after the ball offered Miss Bingley the opportunity to press forward with her plans, for Bingley departed early for London.
“I will not be long,” said he in a cheerful tone that morning at the breakfast table. “No more than two or three days, I should think. The timing is poor, for I have little desire to leave Hertfordshire at present, but at least I shall be comforted in my quick return.”
Darcy made no returning comment, for the inference of Bingley’s intentions with respect to Miss Bennet filled him with disquiet and he had known of Bingley’s return to town for some time. When the man rose to depart, Darcy considered his options, and in so doing found a willing and expected ally, and a most unexpected foe.
“I am concerned for Charles,” said Miss Bingley, making her move while the company was in the sitting-room. The sisters had made their appearance far earlier than was their custom that morning, a testament to their determination.
“This attention he is paying to Miss Bennet can only end badly, and as you know, I will do anything to spare my brother heartache.”
Darcy nodded, though he was aware her words were nothing more than obfuscation of her real motive. She accepted his reply as a sign she should continue.
“As I am certain you already apprehend, Mr. Darcy, Charles’s infatuation with Miss Bennet is deeper than I have ever seen before, and I suspect he might actually lose himself and propose to her. It would be nothing less than a disaster for us in society, for the Bennets as relations cannot be contemplated.” The woman huffed with disdain. “Imagine having to acknowledge Mrs. Bennet or Miss Lydia as a close relation! It is not to be borne!”
“The Bennets are unsuitable,” replied Darcy. “The larger concern, however, is Miss Bennet’s feelings for Bingley.”
“Exactly!” cried Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst nodding her head in more restrained agreement. “Mrs. Bennet, as you know, is hunting for wealthy husbands for her insipid daughters. The woman would not hesitate to insist her daughter accept whatever proposals come their way, for if they do not, they shall surely end living in a leaky tenant cottage. Ha! It would surprise me to discover they have the funds for even that!
“My brother, as you know, has departed for London on a matter of business. But Charles loves the delights of town as much as I do myself, and I am convinced we can induce him to stay there, given the right encouragement.”
“You mean to follow him to London, then?” asked Darcy.
“That seems the most prudent course, Mr. Darcy,” said Mrs. Hurst. “Jane Bennet is a lovely girl, and if she had any connections worth considering, I might almost accept her as suitable.”
“But she does not, so there is little reason to concern ourselves with what might be,” said Miss Bingley, her impatience seeping into her voice. “There is nothing to be done except to travel to London to convince my brother of the folly of considering Miss Bennet a prospective bride. May we have your support, Mr. Darcy?”
“I am happy to be of service to my friend,” said Darcy.
What he did not say—though he implied—was that it was his friendship with Bingley that prompted him to act. Whether Miss Bingley understood his meaning, and he doubted she possessed the self-honesty to own to it, the woman seemed content to accept his words at face value. Her effusive thanks wore on his patience, but the need to prepare for their departure soon superseded all other considerations. Then the opposition made itself known.
“You wish to leave Netherfield?” His mother’s voice was laden with disbelief, but knowing her as he did, Darcy thought it was calculated. Instantly on his guard, Darcy witnessed the ensuing conversation with growing confusion.
“We do,” was Miss Bingley’s firm reply. “Tomorrow, we are determined to leave this place and return to town.”
“That is a surprise. I had thought you meant to stay at least until the New Year, and possibly until the season. Netherfield is a lovely estate and there is nothing in town at present, as the little season is over. I find it curious that you are wild to be away from here, and this only a day after hosting a late event for all the neighborhood.”
Miss Bingley’s confusion was etched upon her brow, but the woman did not lack ability to respond. “There is no need to be diplomatic, Lady Anne, for I have no illusions as to the estate or the neighborhood. Netherfield is in every way inadequate, not only in the house, but also the location, the décor, and the servants, who should be put out without reference.
“And the society!” cried Miss Bingley, her performance needlessly melodramatic, in Darcy’s opinion. “I have never met such ill-bred savages in all my life! There is no fashion among them, no sophistication, and only a modicum of acceptable manners. Last night was nothing less than a punishment to any person of any quality. I am certain you must agree.”
“Your certainty is misplaced, Miss Bingley.” Lady Anne’s tone was mild, but Darcy could sense the steely undertone in her voice. “In fact, society here reminds me very much of what we have in Derbyshire, though perhaps there is a preponderance of families of lesser consequence here. I found myself very comfortable last night, and I know Georgiana felt the same.”
By her side, Georgiana nodded to agree with her mother, further confusing Miss Bingley. Darcy, however, regarded the two women in his life, a gravity settling over him. There was something at play here, something he did not like. Of what his mother’s game consisted he could not be certain, but he was becoming convinced there was a purpose in her assertions.
“Netherfield is an adequate estate,” said Darcy before Miss Bingley could muster a reply. The woman shot him a hard glance, but Darcy took no notice. “It is what Bingley required, both from the prospective of learning how to manage an estate and from its proximity to town.
“However, I agree with Miss Bingley. It seems to me we have been here long enough. It would be best if we were to return to town.”
“Why do you say that, William?” asked Lady Anne. “Did Mr. Bingley not go away intending to return at the earliest opportunity?”
“He did,” replied Miss Bingley. “But we mean to go to town and prevent him from returning.”
“I will own I do not understand why. Should a man not return to the estate he leased when he chooses?”
“Because, Mother,” said Darcy, “Miss Bingley is concerned her brother means to offer for Miss Bennet and means to dissuade him.”
“I see,” said Lady Anne, her brow furrowed in thought. “Then, given your support for this scheme, might I conclude you do not approve of Miss Bennet?”
“Approval is not mine to give,” replied Darcy.
“And yet you have given your consent to this plan, against your friend’s wishes, I might add. Will you not share your reasons?”
“My brother can do better than Miss Bennet,” said Miss Bingley.
“He can do better than a gentleman’s daughter?”
The question was mild but laced with meaning, most of which Darcy did not even wish to consider. “Yes, she is a gentleman’s daughter,” said h
e. “The gentleman, however, is a minor sort of landowner, and the lady has little to offer other than herself. To the best of my knowledge, their connections consist of no one of more note than the obsequious parson we met last night—”
“Do not forget their tradesman uncle,” interjected Miss Bingley with an unpleasant sneer.
“Of course,” said Darcy. “As I was saying, their connections are not sterling, and it is said there is little dowry between the five girls.”
“My brother will become responsible for them, should he marry Miss Bennet,” said Mrs. Hurst.
“Unless they also marry,” was Lady Anne’s mild reply.
“There is little enough chance of that,” rejoined Miss Bingley.
“And yet Miss Bennet has attracted your brother as a potential suitor, Miss Bingley. There are some who would see their status as daughters of a gentleman as all that is required to make them acceptable wives.”
“I doubt anyone of any consequence would do so.”
Lady Anne favored Miss Bingley with a serene smile, which seemed to worry her. “I believe they may, in the end, surprise you.”
“Your defense of them is admirable, Lady Anne,” said Miss Bingley, attempting to take a different tack. “It seemed you became friendly with the eldest daughters last night, and for you to descend to giving consequence to such ladies so beneath you is admirable.
“However, that in no way makes them suitable. Given your focus on Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, I must assume you missed the performance of the other members of the family. The younger girls are wild, flirting with any man wearing a red coat, drinking too much punch, and laughing with raucous abandon, while Miss Mary played very ill, prompting her thuggish father to remove her from the pianoforte most improperly, I might add. And Mrs. Bennet, the crowning bit of glory, crowing to all her friends about how they had captured my brother, and how marriage to him with throw the rest of her brood into the paths of other rich men!”