There was the crux of the problem. The younger sisters had been affected greatly by their trials in the epidemic; a new maturity had settled on them. Still, they would perhaps remain an issue, albeit one that a loving couple could come to a loving resolution upon. But how did an unsociable, taciturn man, ill-qualified to recommend himself to a lively and gregarious lady, go about securing her affections? Certainly he could not do so by continuing to play the role of a friend. He would have to risk rejection and humiliation by being more open about his admiration, with no certainty of success. He would have to humble himself.
* * *
Mr Collins was punctual to his time, and was received with great politeness by the whole family. His air was grave and stately, and his manners very formal, though they failed him when he was introduced to Jane and Lydia; he visibly recoiled, and thus earned in an instant the enmity of the other three sisters.
Mr Bennet and his daughters said but little, for Mr Collins seemed neither in need of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent. Elizabeth wondered when the man would offer his condolences on Mrs Bennet’s death, but soon realised he was not a man capable of understanding he was trespassing on a house of grief.
Elizabeth noticed quickly that, as his ridiculous letters promised, Mr Collins was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature had been but little assisted by education or society. He was singular in all he did and said, and every moment she was in his presence, Elizabeth was reminded of the heroic gentlemen who had helped during their troubles. Mr Jones, Captain Carter, Mr Bingley. And Mr Darcy.
The introduction of another name returned her attention abruptly to Mr Collins’s praises of his patroness. “…as sister to the earl of Matlock, there are few who can boast of higher standing…”
Except, of course, for every noble in the kingdom whose title is not merely a courtesy,she thought with amusement. But then her mind seized upon the name ‘Matlock’, and she recalled that this was the earldom of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s father, which would mean that Lady Catherine de Bourgh was aunt to the colonel…and to Mr Darcy!
Hastily, she bent her head over her stitchery, so as not to display the shock this revelation engendered. Having had the acquaintance of the lady’s parson for mere hours, she had already deduced that the mistress of the vaunted Rosings Park was an officious, meddlesome tyrant with too much conceit and too little sense. To think such a person could be so closely related to Mr Darcy and his amiable cousin—it was scarcely to be credited. But perhaps the lady was not so bad; it was possible, even probable, that Mr Collins’s bumbling desire to present her as the most wise and splendid being upon whom the sun had ever shone was instead doing the lady a disservice.
Although granting the living serving her estate to Mr Collins does not speak well to her good sense...She drew this line of thought up short. If she were to break herself of the habit of relying upon first impressions, she told herself sternly, she certainly must not be so silly as to form one at such a distance! Either the lady was better than Mr Collins made her seem, or else Mr Darcy would avoid her company. Of that much, she could be certain. Perhaps he would be willing to satisfy her curiosity when he returned. She smiled to herself. Return he would; she had no further reservations on that score. Mr Darcy had supplied such reassurances himself, and she could not doubt him. There would be a little more time, at least, to know him better before Pemberley called him away.
For the present, Elizabeth had to consider the presence of another, far less welcome man. Having now a good house and a very sufficient income, Mr Collins intended to marry, and in seeking a reconciliation with the Longbourn family, she understood he meant to choose one of the daughters. Even more disheartening to Elizabeth, from the first evening, it was clear to all that she was his settled choice. His manner of wooing was both blatant and foolish, for he followed her about everywhere except the bed-chambers, spouting wordy compliments which he believed to be both subtle and charming.
Elizabeth, for her part, never allowed herself to be much separated from her sisters, and if a gap arose into which Mr Collins might fit, she sped to the side of her nearest sister and clung there like a limpet. To Mary and Kitty, he was cordial, even avuncular; to Jane and Lydia, he rarely spoke and hardly looked. Mr Bennet was of no assistance; Elizabeth knew that he was enjoying his ridiculous cousin far too much to consider his daughters’ opposing points of view. For her part, Elizabeth was pleased to see her father’s grief eased by the ridiculousness of his cousin. In such a manner the first week of Mr Collins’s visit passed, broken only by the occasional calls of their neighbours.
* * *
Charlotte managed to spirit Elizabeth away for half an hour on the eighth day—Elizabeth laughingly assured Charlotte that she was keeping count—by declaring that she had private matters to discuss with her dearest friend. To attain real privacy, they were forced to walk in the garden though the day was blustery and chill, but by walking briskly and clinging to each other’s arms, they managed well enough.
“Well, Eliza, Mr Collins has taken quite a liking to you, and seems to have no notion that you are not pleased by it!” said Charlotte, when they were well clear of the house.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes in an unladylike manner. “Four more days, my dear Charlotte, only four more, and then he will be back in Kent and I shall not be sorry! He is not the first silly man who has attempted to win my good opinion, but he is surely the most persistent!”
“What will you do if he makes you an offer?”
“After knowing me for only a week, and while I am in mourning? Surely even he cannot be so silly and improper. I must simply hope to attract a gentleman I can admire in return, before his next visit,” Elizabeth disclaimed with a laugh. “Enough about my woeful prospects,Mrs Jones! How are you finding married life?”
Charlotte blushed and smiled and declared with real cheer, “Why, I find I can honestly recommend the state to every young lady who can find herself a good man. It is above all things to be desired.”
“I am happy for you. If your husband should happen to have any sensible, unattached friends to visit, do send them my way.”
Charlotte promised most solemnly to do so, though her eyes shone with suppressed laughter. Did her friend truly not see that at least one sensible gentleman—wealthy, handsome, and earnest—had been visiting Longbourn with some frequency?Oh Lizzy,she laughed to herself.
Later that evening, relating her impressions of the ridiculous parson to her husband, she was struck with an uncomfortable thought. Seeing that something disturbed her, Mr Jones naturally enquired as to the subject of her unquiet musings.
“Oh, it is only that I had the sudden notion that, had I not come to know you and fallen so unexpectedly in love, I might have tried to secure Mr Collins myself, once Elizabeth had discarded him, simply to have a home and the hope of children. Dreadful thought!”
Her husband of a fortnight slid closer to her on the settee, eyes darkening in a manner she was coming to know very well. “But instead, all has fallen out as it should—you have a home here with me, and I am more than willing to continue trying to fulfil yourotherwish at any time convenient.”
Charlotte found that very moment convenient indeed, and all thoughts of what might have been were quickly banished.
* * *
Elizabeth’s worries, slight as they were, about her father’s expectations regarding her cousin’s suit were to be relieved at dinner that evening, though not in a manner she would have chosen.
During the fish course, Mr Collins turned to her and asked, “Miss Bennet, I have been wondering if you are much involved with charity among the tenants of Longbourn? For charity is the most becoming accomplishment a young lady may possess, and to condescend to assist those of lower station—as Lady Catherine de Bourgh so often does!—is the mark of a true Christian.”
Elizabeth said nothing, only took another bite of cod.
“Miss Bennet?” he said, somewhat impatiently.
She turned to him with a look of mock-surprise. “Were you addressing me, sir? But I am not Miss Bennet, that title belongs to Jane.” She gestured towards her eldest sister, and watched the silly man blanch. “I am Miss Elizabeth.”
