She understood his meaning and bristled. “I am not so shallow. He is a good man. I only meant for you to understand that there is nothing more between us…”
“Not yet.” Her father finished the thought, and she scowled. “Have a care, Lizzy. You are a fair way along the path to losing your heart. I could not give you up to anyone less worthy.” He stood, bent to kiss the top of her head, and hurried to his study.
She had not believed Mr. Darcy’s attentions obvious to anyone but herself. Yet she still doubted them. His intense looks puzzled her, and while she hoped they signified genuine regard, she could take no step until he made his intentions known. Her father was right, however. Her heart hovered at the precipice of falling in love, and if she did not guard it carefully, she would tumble headlong into the abyss before she fully understood what had happened.
Elizabeth remained at the table for some time, idly moving food about her plate, lost in thought. When her tea had grown cold, she finally rose. There would be time enough for reflection. For now, she would seek Jane, who still coughed, and Elizabeth wished to assure herself of her sister’s well-being.
Chapter Ten
November 18, 1811
Longbourn
Elizabeth
Mr.Collinsarrivedpreciselyat four o’clock. He stepped down from the hired gig and straightened, grinning at the Bennets, who stood waiting to receive him.
“My dear cousin!” he cried, stepping forward and bowing to Mr. Bennet. “At long last, I have arrived at your doorstep.”
As Mr. Bennet performed the introductions, Elizabeth studied their cousin with keen interest. Mr. Collins was a tall, stout man of about five-and-twenty, with a saccharine smile fixed upon his face. When he removed his hat, Elizabeth noted that his brown hair lay flat against his scalp and his locks were in need of a thorough washing.
They proceeded into the house. Mr. Collins’s commentary continued without pause as they entered the drawing room. Mrs. Bennet rang for tea, her lips pursed in evident displeasure. Elizabeth was surprised her mother had not yet said anything untoward, though she knew it was only a matter of time. Their guest praised the house, the furnishings, the decor, and finally the Bennet daughters. They bore the attention with grace, though Kitty and Lydia wrinkled their noses in distaste.
After tea, Mr. Bennet led Mr. Collins to the study, leaving the ladies alone in the drawing room. “Have you ever seen such a poor specimen of a man?” Lydia exclaimed at once. “Why, even Mr. Darcy looks better.”
“‘Beauty in things exists merely in the mind which contemplates them.’” Mary said solemnly.
“David Hume, Mary? I am impressed.” Elizabeth leaned over and tapped her sister’s hand, offering her a warm smile. “And you are not incorrect.”
Mary smiled hesitantly, clearly pleased at the praise. Elizabeth felt a twinge of guilt. Her younger sister so rarely received approval from anyone in the family.
“Only those with ugly features speak such proverbs,” Mrs. Bennet snipped. “Keep your musings to yourself, Mary. Lydia is correct—Mr. Collins is regrettably favored, though I do not agree that he is worse than Mr. Darcy. That ghastly scar…” She shuddered. “Still, Mr. Collins will inherit Longbourn, and so we must be polite.”
Kitty and Lydia grumbled but did not argue. Elizabeth wondered how far her mother would go when she learned about Mr. Collins’s so-called olive branch. Mr. Darcy’s fortune had not lured her mother into thinking well of him. Would she behave differently with the heir to Longbourn? To do so would expose the greatest of hypocrisy. Yet, it seemed entirely in Mrs. Bennet’s character to behave just so.
Later that evening, Elizabeth noted her mother and their guest speaking quietly in the corner of the drawing room. Curiosity overcame her, and she crept closer until their conversation became audible.
“I have every intention of offering an olive branch in penance of the unfortunate circumstance that places me before your daughters in the entail, madam,” he said seriously.
“Oh? Then you will sign away your rights? That is very good of you.” Mrs. Bennet preened and tapped his arm with her fan.
“Not at all, madam.” Mr. Collins looked positively panicked. “I shall offer marriage to one of your charming daughters. By marrying a daughter of the estate, you will have a home when your dear husband departs this mortal coil. ’Tis the least I can do. And it fulfills the commands of my patroness, who said to me only recently, ‘Mr. Collins, you must marry. Choose a gentlewoman, for my sake. And for your own, let her be a useful sort of person.’ And, so you see, ma’am, I have come as expeditiously as possible to select a bride from among my cousin’s daughters. I am very partial to Miss Jane Bennet—”
“I am afraid, sir, that my daughter is being courted by a gentleman from a neighboring estate.” Mrs. Bennet’s sharp interjection cut him off before he could finish the thought. “And I am afraid that Elizabeth, next in age, is far too willful for a clergyman. My Mary, however, is the perfect choice. She is studious and pious, and in every way the ideal match.”
Mr. Collins frowned. “She is not as well-favored as her sisters, but I suppose other qualities will compensate for the lack.”
Elizabeth bristled but held her tongue, intent on hearing the entire exchange.
“It is folly for a man and wife not to be well-matched in appearance, sir. Surely, your patroness has spoken of the dangers.” Mrs. Bennet batted her eyes. “Let us speak plainly. A man with lesser physical advantages will find it difficult tomanage a wife of superior beauty. Other men will flatter her away. No, ’tis far better to marry someone less attractive.”
Elizabeth nearly laughed aloud at her mother’s absurd reasoning. Was that truly her belief—that the best marriages occurred when both sides were equally handsome? Goodness, no wonder she had married Mr. Bennet. Her father was a handsome man, even now, in his sixth decade. Still, it came as a relief that Mr. Collins would not direct his attentions to her, though she could not be certain how Mary might feel.
Mrs. Bennet’s words appeared to have made an impression, for Mr. Collins nodded sagely. “Yes, Miss Mary it will be. I shall make myself agreeable to her and then offer my hand in marriage. Thank you, Mrs. Bennet, for your wise counsel.” He bowed and left her side, crossing the room to take a seat beside Mary.
Elizabeth remained where she was, musing on the overheard conversation, and resolving to speak with Mary as soon as she could.
November 19, 1811
