“Decades too late for dancing! Mere days too late for the ultimate happiness! How cruel of fate!” Mr Crawford continued to make everyone uncomfortable. “Tell me truly, Miss Bennet. If the world were wide enough, and your affections free, might I have stood a chance?”
Elizabeth’s voice was low, and tinged with weariness. “Not in this world, nor the next, Mr Crawford.”
Mr Crawford looked over and saw Mary shaking her head at him. “The pious one does not approve of me, I think.”
“The Pious Onehas aname, Crawford,” growled Colonel Fitzwilliam forbiddingly. “You will address Miss Mary with respect and civility.”
“I beg your pardon, Miss Mary. What is it about me that you disapprove of so firmly?” Mr Crawford wheedled. “Be warned, in the absence of your sister’s devotion, I shall be obliged to make you fall in love with me before I depart your charming village.”
Mary looked at him as if he were a particularly distasteful bug. “MrCrawford, envy is a sin. Or is this coveting? Either way, your behaviour is distasteful and immoral. I believe I am safe from your charms.”
“Is it kind to accuse me of sin, when I merely admire a fine example of female excellence?” he countered.
“The devil first admired the garden before he spoiled it,” Jane interrupted, unwilling to sit quietly. Miss Mary was still unsure of herself. One cruel insult from this man could destroy her fragile confidence.
“You speak as if you know my character, madam.” Mr Crawford tipped his head at her. “Tell me…what doyouthink of me?”
Jane eyed him with mistrust. “I think you are very clever, Mr Crawford, and too charming for your own good, though I suspect you also have the potential to be quite wicked. Were you a character in a novel, I suspect that no matter how shocking you behaved, readers would adore you despite themselves.”
“Somehow I have gone from being a sinner, to a villain in a bad novel. In all of my days, I have never been so abominably used. No more changing of the subject! I say you are wrong, Miss Bennet. I say that if I had met you first, you would be mine,” Mr Crawford boasted. “If I may say so, you do not seem to have a mother who would permit you to reject such an advantageous match.”
The entire group burst into gales of hysterical laughter. Nearly all of them, save Mary and Mr Collins knew that Elizabeth had rejected not one, but two advantageous proposals. Even Mary and Mr Collins knew that it had been quite mad for her not to have accepted him. It was admirable of her to stand by her principles–but still–quite mad–given her circumstances and that of her family. They all moved away to speak with other guests, leaving Mr Crawford red-faced.
Miss Crawford approached her brother and Colonel Fitzwilliam. “What did I miss?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam scowled. “Your brother plays a dangerous game.”
“Oh, you must learn not to take Henry seriously; he has ever loved a challenge!” Mary smiled charmingly at Colonel Fitzwilliam, as if her brother’s behaviour were quite natural. “Do not we all?”
“If he goes on too far, he might find himself facing avery different sort of challenge.” Fitzwilliam smiled wolfishly. “Crawford ought to take care.”
Chapter Thirteen
If one wishedto know how Mrs Bennet felt about Jane, it could be summed up in her seating arrangements. At the table, Jane found herself between Mr Collins and Meryton’s elderly and half-deaf parson, Mr Abbot.
Jane, however, did not repine, for she actuallywishedto take Mr Collins’s measure, and this would be the perfect opportunity. She soon learned that Mr Abbot found it exhausting to constantly ask people to raise their voice and repeat themselves, and so was content to enjoy his meal without conversing. From around him, she could hear the conversation of Mrs Collins and several others easily, and so she felt that her night would be both entertaining and informative.
“So, Mr Collins, my host and her sisters tell me that you enjoy not only the blessing of a very fine wife, but also a most enviable position, and a generous patroness,” Jane opened the conversation as the soup was served.
“How kind my cousin Mrs Bingley is to be so courteous about my wife and also my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. You’ve heard of her, I presume?” he replied.
“Of course,” Jane encouraged him to keep speaking.
Mr Collins began to eat with gusto, then at a light, femininecough from the other side of Mr Abbot, checked himself and then slowed his pace politely. “Until I married, I relied on my patroness in nearly all things, Miss Jane. I will not lie and say that I was in any way suited to living in a house such as my parsonage alone. My mother died when I was a lad, and my father never remarried, so I can barely recall her feminine touch about our home. And as a bachelor, I never even knew what to order for my dinner. Can you believe I was practically living on nursery food! And there were matters in my parish as well, Miss Jane, matters beneath the dignity of my patroness–but still–requiring a woman’s experience and understanding. My patroness told me, ‘Collins, you must marry. Choose a gentlewoman, for my sake, and for your own, and let her be an active, useful sort of person. Not brought up too high, but able to make a small income go a long way.’”
“Well, as you can imagine, Miss Jane, first I considered my cousins, for taking into account the entail, and my cousin’s affairs being settled so oddly, I thought to make a sort of amends to his daughters by selecting one of them. It was my cousin Elizabeth who enlightened me that though my cousins are all charming, amiable creatures, we are all better off as cousins. And having them all as the good friends of my dear Charlotte, that can only be another blessing.”
“So your patroness approves of your choice then?” Jane encouraged him to continue.
“Approves? Miss Jane, I do not believe that either Lady Catherine nor I expected me tofindsuch a jewel as my dear Charlotte. She fulfills every point of merit laid down by my patroness! As the daughter of a knight who rose above his station, my dear Charlotte perfectly comprehends the difficulty I face, and assists me in my course of self-improvement and in my work in the parish of Hunsford. In addition to that, she has turned our humble parsonage into an inviting and most comfortable home! She also is very genteel and patient, virtues that one must possess in abundance when often in company with Lady Catherine. I confess I used to be rather a nervous creature, but since my dear wife has taken my affairs and home in hand, I find myself much calmer, and a great deal happier.”
“It sounds as if Proverbs 18:22 was prophetic for you, Mr Collins.”Jane looked around her other partner and smiled at Mrs Collins.“He who finds a wife, finds what is good, and receives favour from the Lord.”
“I had not considered that proverb lately, Miss Jane, but of course you are correct! I cannot help having felt immeasurably blessed since our nuptials.” Collins sampled his wine.
“How lovely for you, and for Mrs Collins.” Jane slowly sipped soup from her spoon and then continued. “I know that Miss Bennet enjoyed her visit to your home in Kent last spring very much, and that she was gratified indeed to find you and Mrs Collins enjoying such contentment and domestic utopia.”
“Cousin Elizabeth is far too good. A kinder and more generous cousin never lived! I am pleased to know that she will have the protection and devotion of the nephew of my own patroness. I admit, I was at first concerned for my cousin, for my patroness always claimed that Mr Darcy was engaged to her daughter, Miss Anne de Bourgh, the rare and delicate flower of Kent. But my wife encouraged me that instead of writing to my patroness, I ought to apply directly to Mr Darcy, and so I did. I had no expectation of such generosity, but can you believe he commended me for having the courage to speak up on behalf of my cousin and his, especially to a man connected to those who could make my life, and by extension my wife’s, distinctly uncomfortable? I now understand that the grief my patroness bears at the thought of her daughter being unable to safely bear children due to her health makes the reality of the matter quite difficult for her to accept. I am exceedingly grateful that I never wrote to Lady Catherine when I learned of the betrothal, for to have her turn up here in a rage would be terrifying indeed.”
