Seeking to include him, Elizabeth addressed Miss Bingley with polite interest. “Do you have a favourite diversion when in town?”
“Why, the museum, to be sure.” came the eager reply. “The art exhibits are quite my delight. There are several very lovely Rembrandts hanging there now. Perhaps you have seen them?” She directed this remark to Mr Darcy. Her eyes sparkled with interest, a striking contrast to the avarice that had animated them moments earlier.
Mr Darcy seemed taken unawares yet inclined his head courteously. “Aye, I went with my sister last month. I had no idea you were a patron of the arts, Miss Bingley.”
The lady’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, I am no patron. I merely admire a finely executed masterpiece.” The hesitation that followed betrayed calculation. She leaned towards him with a show of graciousness that deceived no one. “Perhaps when we return to town, we might make a party of it and see the exhibit together—Miss Darcy and my brother as well.”
A disquiet she could not name stole over her as she watched the scene unfold.It cannot be jealously,she reasoned.I have no right to such a feeling.Yet something in Miss Bingley’s proprietary airs set her nerves on edge. Mr Darcy was not the lady’s possession, and her presumption was insufferable.
The Netherfield party soon took their leave. Only then did Elizabeth espy Mr Hurst and wondered where he had secreted himself. Jane followed her glance and then gave a slight nod towards an armchair partially obscured by a screen—his refuge during the visit.
“Well, that was diverting.” Mr Bennet clapped his hands together, his glee plain. “Mrs Bennet, it appears your reports of Mr Bingley’s admiration for our Jane were not at all exaggerated.” He turned to his eldest, his eyes twinkling. “How do you like him, my dear?”
Jane’s modest smile answered before her words did. “I like him very much. He is most amiable; yet it is impossible to judge whether we shall suit, having met only twice in company.”
Her father gave an approving nod. “An astute observation, as always. Very good. Mrs Bennet, I wish to speak with you when you have a moment. I received a letter this morning on which I would seek your counsel.” Mrs Bennet looked curious but said nothing. She slipped her arm through her husband’s and accompanied him from the room.
Elizabeth and Jane exchanged a glance. “What do you suppose that is about?”
“I cannot guess. They will tell us when they are ready.”
Later that day, the mystery was resolved. As they gathered about the dining table, Mr Bennet held up the missive for all to see. “As I told your mother, I received a most surprising communication this morning—so unexpected that I thought it best to consult my dear wife before deciding on any reply.” Clearing his throat, he unfolded the sheet he began to read aloud.
Hunsford, Kent
30 September 1811
Dear Sir,
Please accept my humblest apologies for writing to you without an introduction. Our connexion is familial, though distant, and until a few years ago, the inheritance of your estate was to pass to my family. I need not reiterate the agreement between you and my departed father, and I assure you I have no intention of seeking to overturn the decision made nearly five years ago. The funds supplied in exchange were sufficient to see my family into prosperity.
I have lately taken orders and was granted the living at Hunsford in Kent. With the inheritance from my father and the income from the living, I find myself in a comfortable situation. My only cause for repining is that I have no family with whom to share my happiness. By writing this letter, I hope to remedy that circumstance. Might I, sir, request thefavour of an invitation to visit Longbourn? I wish to know my only living relations and to experience once more the comfort of family.
If you are in agreement, I can arrange with my patroness to remain for a fortnight. I have a capable curate who can see to my duties in my absence. I shall await your reply as soon as may be.
Yours, etc.,
William Collins
“It is not a very long letter,” Lydia said.
“Aye, my dear, that much is clear.” Mr Bennet smiled kindly at his youngest. Lydia twirled one of her plaits around her finger and returned to her meal.
“The question,” Mr Bennet continued, “which I wished to present to your mother, is whether we allow the visit. The entail, as you know, has long been a source of vexation in this house. ’Tis no longer so, but I did not wish to discomfit your mother by extending an invitation. Mr Collins’s presence might recall matters best left forgotten. However, your mama has agreed that he may stay a fortnight. If the visit proves too onerous, we have agreed the invitation will be his last.”
Elizabeth looked up from her plate. “He sounds a sensible sort of gentleman, and it appears the funds his family received were put to good use.”
Mr Bennet nodded in agreement. “I half expected my cousin—the former Mr Collins—to squander the money. It pleases me to learn I was mistaken. His son has already secured a living, and so soon after taking orders. That speaks well of him.”
Jane looked thoughtful. “He gave no date for his proposed arrival. You will write to him about that?”
“I have already done so—with your mother’s blessing, of course.”
All eyes turned towards Mrs Bennet. She took a deliberate spoonful of soup before answering. “I have no need to fear the entail any longer. Though his presence will remind me of what might have been, I am determined to see it for what it appears to be: a man without family seeking the comfort of kin.”
“That is very good of you,” Lydia declared. “I would not do it.”
“Why not, my dear?” Mr Bennet looked on her with gentle forbearance.
