It is always a relief to know some things will never change.
October 7, 1814
Elizabeth and Jane spent a week complete spent at Netherfield, enough time to be well acquainted with the new denizens and to declare them welcome friends—and enough to satisfy Mama’s desire for a ‘proper’ length stay, whatever that meant. To be sure, Miss Bingley could be a mite annoying, a bit cloying, but that did not stop Elizabeth from enjoying an otherwise good-hearted and generally pleasing friend.
As much as Miss Bingley entreated them to stay and as much as they would have enjoyed being included in the house party, Elizabeth had to decline. Papa had written for them to come back to Longbourn, a summons she could hardly avoid.
At ten o’clock the carriage arrived to bring them back to Longbourn. It only took half an hour to have their trunks loaded and to make their goodbyes. Just long enough for the random grey clouds to solidify into substantial thunderheads that promised a storm by dinnertime.
Elizabeth settled into the Bennet carriage’s worn squabs as the driver shut the door behind her. She tugged her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders against the decided scent of rain in the air. The fine wool caught on a large crack in the dark brown, stained leather seat covers. It smelt like Longbourn here: Papa’s shaving oil and Mama’s perfume. She waved through the side glass at Miss Bingley who still stood in the doorway watching their departure. “Are you sorry to be leaving?”
“I have had quite a pleasing visit.” Jane arranged her hands in her lap. Her demure expression that meant she was feeling something quite strongly.
“I think you like our neighbors very well.” Understatement usually worked to draw Jane out.
“Of course, I do. They are kind and likable people.”
“But perhaps you like one more than the others.” Elizabeth bit her lower lip and cocked an eyebrow.
“You should not say such things.” But the blush on Jane’s cheeks confirmed her suspicions.
“Are you afraid of what Mama would do with the information—or perhaps it is Lydia you dread? They would certainly have loved to have seen that delightful bit of dancing we had last night. Who knew that Nicholls could play pianoforte and allow us to dance a three couple set.”
“Or that all three gentlemen should be such accomplished dancers.”
“You seemed to enjoy dancing with Mr. Darcy quite well.” That should not have been difficult to say, but it was.
“He is an excellent partner, but rather too serious, I think. Mr. Bingley though—”
“It was quite clear that you thought of dancing with him and he with you.” Hopefully Jane would not pick up the relief in her voice.
“Miss Bingley thought it better that he be partnered with you, you know.”
“Yes, I do know. Everyone in the room, and probably the mice in the walls knew. Our new friend is many things, but subtle is not one of them.” The carriage jolted as if to remind her to be polite and kind. It was probably right. “I wonder what Mr. Collins will be like?
A sudden sharp wind gust rocked the coach.
Jane shuddered and pulled her shawl tighter over her shoulders. “Regarding that—I think you should know what Nicholls told me before we left.”
“Is Mama at sixes and sevens with Mr. Collins’ presence? The odious man who will put her out in the hedgerows.”
“She was at first to be sure, but now she seems very welcoming of him. Or at least that is what Hill told Nicholls.” Jane smiled weakly and shrugged.
“I dread to think what that means. You recall her reaction when Papa read his letter aloud? ‘If he is disposed to make my girls any amends, I shall not be the person to discourage him.’” If Mama interfered with Papa’s intentions—did she even know of them? No Papa certainly would not have told her lest the entire neighborhood know. Oh gracious!
“Though it is difficult to guess in what way he can mean to make us the atonement he thinks our due—”
Truly, it was difficult to surmise? Surely Jane was not so thick.
“—the wish is certainly to his credit. Remember Mary thought him very well expressed.” Jane shrugged and turned her gaze out the window. “I am sure it means he is a very agreeable sort of person.”
Rolling one’s eyes was not polite, even when confronted with something so outrageous. Had Jane already forgotten his pompous style, apologizing for the entail, and his extraordinary and uncomfortable deference for his all but divine patroness Lady Catherine. Surely, he could not be a sensible man.
“I expect it all means that he means to marry one of us. I suppose that would be very easy and convenient for all involved.” Elizabeth dragged her hand down her face.
“That does not mean that he is necessarily a bad choice.” Why did she always have to try and make the best of things? Really, it could simply be maddening at times.
“Do you wish to marry a man simply because he is a convenient choice?”
Jane shrugged again, her way of saying she did not like this line of conversation. “I suppose there are worse reasons.”
If she did not stop this, Elizabeth might just have to shake her. “Truly? Only last night was it not you who said you wanted to marry for love?”
“I admit I said that. It would be nice. But we must be realistic. With only fifty pounds a year…”
“I do not think Mr. Bingley would object. He does not need fortune, he needs a gentlewoman and you, my dear sister, are that in spades.”
“Miss Bingley thinks he likes you best.”
Elizabeth reached across the carriage to squeeze Jane’s hand. Mr. Bingley was nothing to Mr. Darcy.
“I am not jealous you know.” Jane stared at their joined hands.
“There is no reason to be. I am quite convinced—”
The coach jolted to a stop and the driver opened the door.
“We will talk more about his later. Please do not dwell on it.” Elizabeth straightened Jane’s bonnet and waved her to exit first.
How to explain that Jane was welcome to Mr. Bingley’s attentions without admitting her preference for Mr. Darcy? Jane was not one to violate the bonds of secrecy, but Mama was every so determined to wheedle out such information that even a glance or a raised eyebrow could betray her.
Drawing a deep breath, she climbed down into a sharp, chill wind. One needed to prepare herself for Mama’s inevitable effusions. Her feet crunched along the gravel leading to the front door.
One step, two steps, three.
Mama greeted them at the worn paneled door that boasted a fresh coat of white paint. She stood directly in front of Hill, preventing the ever-patient housekeeper from even taking their bonnets and shawls. “Come, come, you must join your sisters in entertaining our guest.” She all but grabbed Jane by the elbow and dragged her inside.
Hill offered Elizabeth a sympathetic look as she followed, but the twinkle in her eye suggested she found humor in the whole situation. That was probably a good thing.
Probably.
Elizabeth had to wait behind Mama and Jane as they stopped in the doorway to the parlor. The second of the tall, narrow white double-doors could have been opened to admit her, but that would have slowed Mama’s haste.
“Mr. Collings, allow me to present my eldest daughters Jane and Elizabeth.” Mama pushed Jane forward and pulled Elizabeth into the room as though any delay in presenting them would render then spoilt like milk that had been left out too long.
Mr. Collins stood from his seat near the center of the room and bowed. He was a tall, heavy looking young man of five and twenty, or at least that is what his letter had said. His air was grave and stately, and his manners were very formal, emphasized by his black suit that looked as though it might have been his father’s and recut to fit him by a tailor chosen for cheapness not skill.
The sunshine yellow walls in the dark-cloud filtered light left him looking a little sallow and unhealthy, but that was probably just a trick of the eye. Hardly one in twenty men could stand up to that color in a room.
Mary, in one of her best dresses had been sitting beside him on the couch, and looked anxiously for his return. Kitty and Lydia perched on the settee across the room, lips pulled tight as though they could barely contain their opinions of their company.
Mama sat in her overstuffed chair near the fireplace and encouraged everyone to do the same.
“May I congratulate you, Mrs. Bennet, on having so fine a family of daughters. I have heard much of their beauty, but I see now, with all five together, their fame has fallen short of the truth. I have no doubt that you will see them all well-disposed of in marriage.”
Well-disposed of? What were they some sort of livestock? Or perhaps an inconvenient commodity to be relinquished as soon as possible.
Lightening flashed on the horizon followed by an appropriate thunderclap.
Mama tittered. “You are very kind, sir, I am sure. I wish with all my heart it may prove so; for else they will be destitute enough. Things are settled so oddly.”
Jane grimaced as Lydia tittered.
“You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate.” How did Mr. Collins keep a straight face? What else could she be referring to?
“Ah! sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, you must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with you, for such things, I know, are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates will go when once they come to be entailed.”
With her youngest daughter nearly sixteen, it was a pretty good guess exactly how the estate would go.
“I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins and could say much on the subject, but I am cautious of appearing forward and precipitate. But I can assure the young ladies that I come prepared to admire them. At present I will not say more, but perhaps when we are better acquainted —”
No! He was staring directly at her. He must have talked to Papa already. Bless it all!
Sharp raindrops rapped at the windowpanes, mocking her as they cut off any hope of escape.
And Mama’s blush replied just as loudly that she was pleased at the olive branch he offered.
Had Papa spoken to her after all or did she come to the conclusion to sacrifice one of them to this ridiculous man all on her own?
He kept glancing at Jane as though she would have been his first choice.
Merciful heavens!
“La! Jane and Lizzy, you have not asked us how we found Lucas Lodge and the guest that resides there. Do you not care about our neighbors?” Lydia bounced a little on her seat, perhaps impatient to have her share on the conversation.
“And we want to know all about our new neighbors at Netherfield.” Kitty kept her gaze firmly turned away from Mr. Collins.
Did anyone else hear their pronounced dislike for their cousin, or did it not matter since the sacrificial lamb had already been identified?
“What a fine thing to have so much new company in the neighborhood. As one of the leading families in the neighborhood, we must host a dinner party and invite them all. I am sure, Mr. Collins, that you would like to make their acquaintances.”
And so it began, the inane conversation that Mama, Kitty and Lydia favored and Elizabeth hated. Many words, many sighs, and nothing of substance to be had. Although they were now privy to the knowledge that Mr. Wickham was a greatly agreeable man and a favorite of Lydia, Kitty, Maria Lucas, and possibly even of Charlotte herself.
The latter was more difficult to discern as Lydia did not like talking about Charlotte. She was too dull and boring, after all. Sir William was well pleased with his cousin, and he too intended to host a gather of some sort, in his guest’s honor, quite soon and Longbourn would surely be invited. No doubt that was the tea Sir William mentioned when he visited Netherfield. Interesting, had he not already been to Longbourn to issue the invitation?
Probably not, as Mama did not take that news very well. Longbourn should be the first to honor the new guests as, at least technically, they out ranked the Lucases. Had Mama made up that rule of propriety for the occasion? Elizabeth had never seen it in any of the conduct manuals Mama had insisted she read.
At last, sheets of rain pelted the windows and Hill arrived to summon them all to dinner. The look she wore suggested she had heard every ridiculous word spoken in the parlor. No doubt Netherfield would soon know as well. If only Mr. Darcy or Mr. Bingley had a mortifying relative or two to lessen the blow to her dignity.
Unfortunately, Mr. Collins chose to walk beside her to the dining room. “This hallway is entirely suitable, you know, being neither too short, nor too long, too wide nor too narrow. With exactly the right number of paintings for its size. The hall chair, an excellent example of a Trafalgar chair, accents the half-table and china vase excellently. I commend the taste of your mother. Lady Catherine would approve, you know. She always approves of maintaining the distinction of rank you know. And the dining room furniture—” they entered the room to his raptures. “I would not be ashamed to preside over a meal here at all.”
He was worse than Sir William.
“Mr. Collins!” Jane turned over her shoulder and gazed at him with what might appear to be a mild look, but was in fact the sharpest reprimand she ever offered.
“Pray forgive me cousin, I did not mean to offend.” He hurried to help Jane to her seat and continued to apologize to everyone, even those who had not heard his affront, for no less than a quarter of an hour, after which he praised a dish of boiled potatoes for at least as long.
If that was not enough to sour her appetite, Mama kept casting sidelong glances her way, encouraging her to talk with Mr. Collins. Papa kept silent at the foot of the table, but anyone who knew him could see he was enjoying the show of ridiculousness that only became more pronounced with each new topic.
This was the man she was expected to marry? To endure such absurdity every day for the rest of her life. Papa might find it amusing, but nigh on intolerable described it far better.
No, this was too much to be borne. Marrying Mr. Collins could not be the only way to secure the family’s future.
Surely it could not.
No, it would not.
Not with an agreeable new acquaintance at Netherfield who was quite favorably disposed toward Jane. Though it might displease Caroline to have her plans thwarted, and surely Mama would not like it either, desperate times called for desperate measures, like resorting to matchmaking herself.
Papa would just have to understand.
3 comments
Great new part! Yes, it’s a relief to have our dear Mr Collins behave as he should, but perhaps even he may surprise us? I loved his comments in the hallway. Thanks Maria for the spot on way Mr C would view the hallway and dining room furniture. It brought a chuckle in a time we all could use more of them.
I don’t know if it’s a relief or infuriation as it usually is in my readings. Also, Mrs Bennet is scheming to save the family; however, I am concerned about Mr Bennet and if he truly is accepting of Mr Collins. In any case, thank you for that excerpt.
What happened? Where’s the rest of the story? Have you not yet finished it? Frustrated readers want to know when will it be published?