“You may count on my support,” said William at once. “Disinheriting Collins would benefit us all and would keep the estate solvent. Leave it to one of your other daughters, for I have no need of it; let us not allow it to fall into Collins’s hands.”
For a moment, Elizabeth wondered if her father would refuse the offer. Instead, he gave William a tight nod after considering the offer.
“Very well, Darcy. Do you have a man you can recommend?”
“I shall ask my father,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “He uses a prominent solicitor in London, who may know a man who can take up the case.”
“On the contrary,” replied William, “I shall introduce Bennet to my solicitor. Lord Matlock’s solicitor may not wish to take such a case.”
“I will tell my father what we discussed,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“Excuse me,” offered Mrs. Bennet, appearing more tentative than Darcy could remember, “of what are you talking?”
“To recover a property is to set an entail aside,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “It is a common practice with estates using older inheritance mechanisms that do not contain the full protections a modern document would include. With the right man possessing knowledge of such things, it should be possible to disinherit Mr. Collins.”
Mrs. Bennet appeared no less than dazed, for the entail had long been a source of grief, though Elizabeth’s connection with William had resolved that fear. Elizabeth well remembered the unrestrained Mrs. Bennet from her youth, for her nerves had been the bane of the entire family’s existence. To hear her talk about it, one might have thought Mr. Bennet was on his deathbed, leaving his wife and children with no way of supporting themselves.
With that, the general conversation in the room devolved to a wider variety of such discourse. Georgiana and Kitty were getting on as they had done at Pemberley, and Lydia appeared interested in her new acquaintance and well on the way to becoming friends. Jane was serene as usual, while Mary also sat near the youngest girls, injecting an occasional comment when she had the chance. Mrs. Darcy, Elizabeth noted, was sitting next to Mrs. Bennet, and from their earnest conversation carried by Mrs. Darcy, Elizabeth thought she was engaged in calming the last of her mother’s fears. Likewise, her father was standing beside Colonel Fitzwilliam, their discussion serious and animated. For her part, Elizabeth sat by William’s side,enjoying his company, grateful they had defeated the specter of Mr. Collins and would no longer need to endure him.
“Tell me, Elizabeth,” said William after they had sat in this attitude for some time, “does Mrs. Younge appear more than a little sour?”
Unable to say she knew the woman to any extent—for they had spoken but little when Elizabeth had visited Derbyshire—Elizabeth watched her with as much circumspection as she could muster. Within moments, she could see what William was saying, for the woman watched her charge with care, a grimace or a shaken head a testament to her disapproval.
“I cannot see what offends her,” said Elizabeth. “The girls are animated, but not so much as to be improper.”
Elizabeth turned to him. “Did she say anything to you out of our hearing?”
“Nothing of which I am aware,” replied William. “It is difficult to know what she feels, for she is taciturn, but Georgiana and Fitzwilliam have reported nothing to me.”
“Then perhaps it is nothing,” opined Elizabeth. “With the upheaval in Georgiana’s life, Mrs. Younge may be concerned with her wellbeing.”
Though Elizabeth knew she had not convinced him, William nodded and did not pursue the subject. Elizabeth was enjoying their reunion, though not much passed between them; being in the same room, sitting together, and listening to her family speak was more than enough for her, for they had long been beyond the need to fill every silence with meaningless chatter. If anything, the silences between them spoke louder than anything they could have uttered.
When, at length, the subject arose, Elizabeth attributed the delay to the excitement that afternoon; Mrs. Bennet must have been distracted to allow it to remain unaddressed as long as she did.
“Now, we must complete the last few points for your wedding,” said she, her manner turning businesslike.
“Though I agree that the safest course would be to see these two married,” said Mr. Bennet, his good humor restored, “I have no desire to endure wedding talk for the rest of the day.” Mr. Bennet turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Might I interest you in a game of chess? I cannot suppose you have any more interest in it than I do.”
As she thought he might, given his character, the colonel accepted at once, and the two men made their way from the room. William made no move to leave, content to remain in Elizabeth’s company; she lost no time in teasing him.
“What, am I to understand you will endure such talk as terrifies my father?”
“If it keeps me in your company, I shall endure much more than this. Besides, this will see us married as soon as may be; I have a vested interest in it, and as your father said, we should marry at once.”
“Of course,” said Mrs. Darcy, holding her diversion in though Elizabeth could see she wished to release it. “If you were married, then Lady Catherine could have nothing to say on the matter and no way to separate you. Not even she would be so senseless as to suppose she could insert her daughter in Elizabeth’s place.”
“Though I have a high measure of respect for Lady Catherine’s ability to see what she wishes,” replied William, “I cannot disagree. Though it is only two weeks, I cannot but wonder if we should marry more quickly.”
“Nonsense, William,” said Mrs. Bennet. “We cannot rush these things. I am confident we can withstand whatever Lady Catherine attempts.”
William nodded, and they moved to the topics Mrs. Bennet wished to discuss. It was no surprise when everyone else in the room tired of such talk long before Mrs. Bennet was satisfied.
Chapter XVII
“Perhaps there is no need to belabor the point, Darcy,” said Fitzwilliam that evening at Netherfield, “but you will need to take care, for Lady Catherine will race to Hertfordshire to confront you.”
“Yes, I expect the same,” said Darcy. “How soon do you suppose she will arrive?”
