The visitors then excused themselves, and soon after, the sound of carriage wheels faded down the lane. The Darcys and Colonel Fitzwilliam left Meryton behind, perhaps forever.
Chapter 14: Mr. Collins
Elizabeth held Jane in her arms while her sister wept into her shoulder. A crushed letter lay upon the bedcover beside her, bearing ill news. Caroline Bingley had written that Netherfield Park was closed and that the party was settled in London for the Season. They had no plans to return.
With smug confidence, Caroline had added her high hopes that Mr. Bingley would make a match with Miss Darcy, while she herself anticipated marriage to Mr. Darcy.
There was little Elizabeth could say that might ease Jane’s distress. Every word would be conjecture, for no facts were known.
“Jane, dearest,” Elizabeth said softly, “perhaps you should go to Uncle Edward and Aunt Madeline for a time. The neighbors will soon begin to gossip when the Netherfield servants spread word that the house is shut.”
Jane turned her tearful face toward her. “Lizzy, I shall be a mockery, infamous forever. Mr. Bingley was so very particular, so very public in his attentions. I can scarcely believe he would abandon me in this way, leaving me open to the derision of the town gossips. It does not seem possible. He is too kind to act so cruelly. He loves me, Lizzy, I am certain he does. He had a look in his eyes, oh, I am certain it was love. No one has ever looked at me in such a way.”
Elizabeth pressed her sister’s hand. “Yes, Jane, I believe he does love you. I do not understand what has happened, but I can guess. I believe Miss Bingley and Mr. Darcy had much to do with this sudden removal to London.”
She hesitated, then added in earnest, “Jane, I will ask Papa to send you to Uncle Gardiner before Mr. Collins arrives. If he were to fall in love with you, Mamma would insist upon your marrying him, and then your heart would be broken twice.”
Two days later, Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth stood with Jane outside the Rose and Crown until the coach was called. Jane kissed her father on the cheek, then held Lizzy close for several moments before turning to mount the step and enter the carriage. Elizabeth waved to her sister until the coach rolled out of sight. Her heart ached for Jane’s disappointment, and anger burned against Caroline Bingley. She also suspected that Mr. Darcy had played some part in the ruin of her sister’s hopes.
At four o’clock that same afternoon, Mr. Collins arrived at Longbourn. He was received by Mr. and Mrs. Bennet and the four remaining daughters.
Mr. Collins was pleasing to the eye. He was young, no more than five-and-twenty, his form tall and slender, with streaks of gold in his blond hair. He smiled at his relatives, revealing a set of even white teeth. In addition to his physical attractiveness, he was the rector of a Kentish parish, which afforded him a comfortable living and a well-appointed parsonage. The Bennets welcomed him cordially, and Mr. Bennet nourished hopes that this cousin might secure their future by marrying Elizabeth.
At dinner, Mr. Bennet noticed that the rector spent most of his time gazing at his second daughter, even attempting to engage her in conversation several times during the meal. She was plainly uncomfortable with his attentions, and all her replies were short and clipped. That evening, she went to her father's study and sat down in her accustomed chair.
“Papa,” she began, closing the door behind her, “please send me to London to Uncle Edward. Mr. Collins has turned his eye toward me, but I am not interested in him. Mary stared at him the whole evening. If you send me away, it may leave the way open for her.”
Mr. Bennet leaned back in his chair, studying her. “Are you certain, Elizabeth? Mr. Collins is a fine-looking young man, polite and well-spoken. He is, by all that I can see, a man of sense and good judgment. He would make a respectable husband.”
Elizabeth shook her head with determination. “I cannot marry him, Papa. Please, do not ask it of me.”
He reached across the desk and took her hand with quiet affection. “I will not make you, my dear. I am sorry you cannot like him, but perhaps he will turn his eyes upon Mary. Of all of you, she is most suited to be the wife of a parson.”
Elizabeth kissed his hand in gratitude. “Thank you, Papa.”
“Very well. I know you are still recovering from your parting with Alexander. It is no wonder that you cannot look upon another with favor so soon. I shall send you to your uncle in the morning. What your mother will say, I hardly dare imagine.”
Elizabeth’s composure gave way, and she buried her face in her hands. “Papa, why is life so very difficult?”
Mr. Bennet rose from his chair and came round the desk. He sat beside her and placed an arm gently about her shoulders. “It will be well, Elizabeth. All seems dark now, yet time will soften the pain, and you will find happiness again. Perhaps it would be best for you to go to London for a while. It will spare you the spectacle of Alexander courting a woman he does not love, merely for the sake of her ten thousand pounds. I suspect hismother’s influence is at play here. It will also remove you from the attentions of our cousin. He is a worthy man and eligible, yet as you have said, you cannot look kindly upon any suitor at present.”
True to his word, Mr. Bennet saw Elizabeth off early the next morning. Then he broke the news to Mrs. Bennet, who flew at once into agitation. She sat wringing her hands in the study.
“He had an eye on Elizabeth! He will never want Mary. Elizabeth refuses him, and you will not force her. What shall we do now?”
Mr. Bennet sighed. “See what you can do to make Mary more attractive. Throw away that puce gown she wore last evening, it does her no favor. Ask Alice to see to her hair.”
Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips but agreed. “I doubt anything will help, yet I will do what I can. Since Lydia is no longer out, I shall alter some of her gowns for Mary. Kitty, too, must contribute.”
She went straight to Mary’s room and began rifling through her wardrobe. “Not one gown worth keeping,” she declared in disgust. “All grey, brown, or puce. Fit for a dowdy, not a young lady.” She turned to Kitty’s closet and discovered two rose-colored gowns that would flatter Mary’s complexion. In the nursery, she found three more gowns, shades of blue, that would likewise suit her.
Alice set to work at once upon Mary’s hair. Mary complained she disliked the new style, but Mrs. Bennet turned sharply upon her.
“I thought your father said you wished to marry Mr. Collins. If so, you must allow Alice to style your hair as Jane and Elizabeth wear theirs. A tight bun upon the crown is unbecoming. And as for your gowns, they are all unsightly. I will give them away. The poor may take them, if they will. We shall alter your sisters’gowns for you. You have a fine figure, Mary, more in the lines of Elizabeth than Jane, but you have curves, and any man will find them pleasing.”
Mary flushed scarlet and hid her face, but she obediently took up her needle to alter the seams of a rose-colored gown that her mother forced into her hands.
That evening, when she came down to dinner, she made a striking entrance. Although the gown she wore was old, the color suited Mary, and Alice had done an expert job with the alterations. The muslin draped her small waist and rounded hips to advantage. The bodice was cut modestly low, revealing the shapely fullness of her bosom.
