The sisters happily left with thanks to their father and sought out the next two younger Bennet sisters to share the good news.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
As he neared London on the ninth day of May, Darcy kept thinking of the advice Mrs Reynolds had given him. Eventually, he resolved to make for Meryton to see if he could ascertain the truth rather than relying on his perception, which he readily owned had been most faulty in the past when it came to the lady he loved. In addition, he would ask Richard’s opinion. His cousin often saw things with a clearer eye than Darcy.
He hoped that his faithful housekeeper was correct, and Miss Elizabeth would not send him away.
He had received a report along with a letter of thanks from the Mother Superior at St Mary’s convent. The three girls had arrived and were settling in well, and the large donation made by him had been gratefully accepted.
At least, there would be no scandal concerning Wickham’s victims in Meryton.
Before he could think ofseeing Miss Elizabeth, he needed to put Miss Bingley in her place and, with his Aunt Elaine’s help, remove the cancer from the body of polite society. Darcy was fully aware that it may cost him Bingley’s friendship. It was not something he desired, but if that was what occurred, so be it.
He was not sure, but he believed that Bingley had no knowledge of what his sister had written. The letter was secure in his safe at Darcy House.
The first step would be to meet with Bingley at White’s so the shrew could not accompany him. Thanks to an almost indecipherable letter from Bingley, Darcy knew his friend and his harpy of a sister were in Town.
The coach slowed as it turned into Grosvenor Square. Darcy planned to send a note to Bingley on Monday.
He would enjoy the sabbath in peace with the Fitzwilliams and Gigi.
Chapter 13
Having already met with Lady Catherine that morning when she had handed William Collins an outline for his next sermon, the parson hurried home to begin to craft the perfect sermon which would be pleasing to her Ladyship.
He rang the doorbell. It was his own home, but it was his right for a servant to open the door for him. The maid of all work opened the portal.
He did not bother to notify his plain wife he was home. Since his failure to make Cousin Elizabeth jealous, even though it was not Mrs Collins’s fault, Collins spent as much time out of her company as was possible. He thought he was denying her the pleasure of his notice.
His hat and coat were handed to the maid who had opened the door for him, and Collins made directly for his study, ordering tea and many of his favourite shortbread biscuits to be brought to him.
Charlotte was seated in the back parlour, which had been set aside for her particular use when she had first arrived at the parsonage. She heard the doorbell ring, and after the sound of the door being opened, she identified the voice belonging to the man she married, which she now owned was the worst mistake she had ever made.
Eliza’s words to Charlotte when she announced her engagement to Mr Collins reverberated in her head. If only, she had listened to her friend. Now, not even the promise ofone day being the mistress of Longbourn was worth being married to the man to whom she was now tied. If only to herself, Charlotte had to admit that Mr Collins being the heir presumptive of Longbourn had been a factor, but not a deciding one, in accepting him. She had been a fool, but it was too late to do anything about it now. She had accepted him in haste and now repented at leisure.
It had not taken long after Eliza arrived before Charlotte had divined the reason Mr Collins had offered for herself—to rub Eliza’sfailurein her face. The only problem was that Eliza did not repine her refusal of her distant cousin and heir presumptive of Longbourn—not even for the smallest measure of time. Mr Collins had started with subtle reminders about theadvantagesof being married to him, and the more Eliza did not react, the more overt his statements became. To say that Charlotte had been mortified, each time her husband had attempted to achieve that which he kept failing to do, was a gross understatement.
Although he had not been physically vicious to Charlotte, Mr Collins had begun to make snide remarks about her failing to make Eliza jealous. As a result, he kept his company away from her other than to break his fast and for dinner. She was sure her husband thought it apunishmentfor her. The truth was that the less she saw of him the more she liked it.
If Mr Collins had come to greet her, Charlotte would have informed him that an express had arrived from Meryton. It was on his desk; she was sure that he would find it soon enough.
Collins sat at his desk and pulled a few sheets of foolscap from his desk drawer so they sat in front of him, without noticing the epistle on which he placed them. He worked on the draft of his sermon until the maid entered his study with a tray in hand. There was a pot of tea, a cup, a saucer, and a platewith about a dozen of his favourite biscuits.
The maid began to lower the tray before her master.
“Not on top of my work,” Collins barked. He picked up the pages to move them when he saw a letter he had overlooked in his haste to draft his sermon. He looked at the direction. It was from Mr Phillips, who, if he remembered correctly, was a solicitor. He picked up the missive and indicated the now clear spot for the maid to deposit the tray.
He put the letter on top of his newly begun sermon, and he poured a cup of tea. It was still steaming, so he took a biscuit, pushed it whole into his mouth, and began to munch. He broke the seal and opened the letter. There were some other documents with it, so he decided to put them aside and first read the words of the man who was so far below him.
8 May 1812
Phillips Law Offices
Meryton
Hertfordshire
Mr Collins:
