“Does he give a reason?” asked Bennet.
“He does, and they are no less than we have heard before. There is no point in going over the legalities of fee tail or strict settlement, for I believe we both understand the important points of those concepts. Unless I am mistaken, you have not entered an agreement of strict settlement with Mr. Collins?”
Bennet snorted his utter disdain. “Not only did his behavior toward Elizabeth disgust me, but I have no doubt he would bankrupt the estate within a sixmonth of inheriting.” Bennet paused and regarded him with interest. “Have you heard anything of the investigation into Mr. Collins?”
“Nothing of late. Lord Matlock informed his contacts in the church, and Mr. Collins’s bishop is investigating, but that is all.”
“While perhaps I should repent of my desire to see him brought low,” commented Mr. Bennet, “I cannot. Punishment for the way he acted seems only just.”
“With that, I cannot disagree. His offenses and threats to Elizabeth are enough for me to call him out—should he lose his ordination over his behavior, it will be nothing but deserved.”
“His actions warrant it,” agreed Bennet. “I must assume the bishop’s representative will approach us for our testimony at some point.”
“I anticipate that day with great relish.”
Father and son-in-law exchanged a ruthless, pitiless smirk and then turned back to the subject at hand.
“If your solicitor is correct, Mr. Collins will have no recourse.”
“And losing his parish, should it happen, will render it impossible for him to challenge it,” said Darcy.
“What of the expense of ending the entail? Jennings’s fees must not be insubstantial.”
“In this instance, I doubt they will be onerous. Regardless, I would ask you not to consider them for another moment, for I will support you.”
“Providing a home for my widow such that you do not need to endure her in your home,” jested Bennet.
Darcy shrugged. “Pemberley has a dower house in which she could live. I can tolerate your wife well enough, Bennet; she is at least partially responsible for the excellent woman I now call my wife.”
With a laugh, Bennet clapped Darcy on the shoulder. “That, I suppose, she is. Maggie is a good sort of woman, and I am prodigiously fond of her. Had you not presented yourself as an eligible suitor providing for her future, I shudder to think of how her nerves might have affected our marriage.”
“You would not have left her unprotected had you passed early,” said Darcy.
“No, but she never could have lived in the style she enjoys now. The girls will all have something of an inheritance, though providing them vast fortunes is beyond my means.” Darcy nodded, considering his father-in-law’s situation. Bennet was not the most diligent man, but he was not dilatory either. Mrs. Bennet’s fortune was to be divided between the girls, but not until after her passing. Bennet, he knew, had taken some thought to provide for his daughters with Gardiner’s guidance, but given the dowry Elizabeth had brought to the marriage, he was correct that it was not substantial. Darcy had always known that Elizabeth’s marriage to him would raise the Bennets’ consequence, the other ladies benefitting from his position in society and the possibility of connecting potential suitors to them despite their relative lack of dowry. That could also be a curse, of course.
“For Mary, I have no concerns, for I do not suppose pretty words meant to flatter will deceive her. We must take care of Kitty and Lydia, for I do not suppose they are so discerning.”
“With that, I cannot disagree,” said Bennet. “Kitty, I will note, has improved by her association with Georgiana. Lydia is not deficient, and we have tried to curb her exuberance, but you are correct, we must remain watchful. She is the most likely to give her affections to an unworthy man and accept assurances in a moment of infatuation.”
As they both understood the situation, Darcy did not think he needed to belabor the point. “When you gain control of Longbourn’s future, what will you do with it?”
Bennet paused and considered the question. “The best course is to leave it with Jane, I suppose. If the girls were all yet unmarried, I would consider Elizabeth, as she is the most capable of dealing with estate concerns.” Bennet grinned.“Your friend also appears capable, though he is inexperienced. If nothing else, I suspect he will do better than Collins would.”
“Bingley will not change his name to preserve yours,” observed Darcy.
A laugh was Bennet’s response. “Nor would I require it of him. I have had many years to become accustomed to the notion of my family losing control over Longbourn. If one of my daughters inherits, I shall be content even though they will not bear my name.”
“Then perhaps you should not be so hasty,” replied Darcy, considering Bennet’s words. “Bingley will not assume your name, but one of your other daughters might find a man willing to do so.”
“That is possible,” agreed Bennet. “I shall consider it; there still should be plenty of time to decide. When the estate is mine to do with as I please, I shall update my will, though I may change it later.”
“Yes, that would be for the best,” agreed Darcy.
Later in their chambers together, Darcy discussed the matter with Elizabeth, explaining the conversation between them. As Elizabeth had been the target of Mr. Collins’s schemes through Lady Catherine, the notion of him losing his inheritance was not at all onerous to her.
“Good. I hope to never lay eyes on Mr. Collins, and I should like nothing better than for him to lose his ordination.”
“Vengeance?” teased Darcy.
