The sun had not fully set. Jane’s soft yellow gown looked blood red in the fading light. Her skin was pale and her voice was over-soft, but there was a glow to her that had nothing to do with the sun. She spoke serenely when Collins expected her to, but for the most part remained mute. Since the man was over-fond of his own opinions, he filled their silence ten times over.
Jane was not asked for her opinions on a single matter. Instead, she was informed at length about what her life was going to be like as Mrs. Collins.
Darcy was sure that the punch had loosened the rector’ssanity,not just his tongue, for he spoke so egregiously that Darcy was shocked. Knowing that Jane was in no real danger, and would never have to obey a single one of Collins’s orders, Darcy stayed silent and listened in horrified fascination.
The orders were as follows:
First, that Jane must return to Meryton at once. She must demonstrate that she was still capable of the filial, obedient behaviour which he expected. The influence of certain undesirable persons would be overcome, or else those persons would be forbidden from visiting or writing to the blushing bride.
Mr. Collins grew very animated at this, clearly forgetting that Darcy was just a few steps away as he slandered his wife. Hewaved his arms around and, in a drunken slur, announced every sentence as if he was standing at the pulpit.
In his soused mind he probably was evangelising; extolling virtue and rejecting evil were bread and butter to a man whose income depended on monetising morality. Doubtless it was easier to subjugate a trapped young woman when he disguised his selfish demands in piety.
The orders continued in a more factual tone, after a dizzy spell had rendered Mr. Collins mute (and heaving over a lavender bush) for some time.
Jane was not just going to be the wife of a man; how blessed she was to be forever tied to a man of God! Henceforth, her life would be one of divine service. She was to ensure that her husband was always immaculate in his mission to spread the good word.
He was to be flawless in appearance and temper at all times. He was never to wear a frayed shirt, have a bad haircut or eat an unpalatable meal that might give him indigestion. Consider the consequences of frowning at the wrong moment, unable to explain to a goodly widow that it was a piece of chewy ham and not her sorry plight that made him so uncordial!
As to his temper, he instructed, his wife was to do everything in her power to be amenable and obliging to his every need. If he left the house in poor spirits then she would be at fault, not he, and she would be the one who had to suffer the consequences.
Darcy almost stepped in at that point. Even though she was an hour away from never having to see Mr. Collins again, Jane had started to tremble. Every single thing he said, in his flat voice, made her flinch. Every flinch made him smirk.
Collins patted her hand, which rested limply in his elbow. “You may think me harsh, Miss Bennet. Do you not think it best that we be honest with each other? Your recent conduct has forced me to it, madam. It is clear that certain rulesmustbe enforced, if we are to find any felicity in our marriage at all. Once you have proven yourself to be trustworthy, I shall not need to be so strict.”
“I thank you, sir, for your honesty.” Jane’s murmur was almost entirely lifeless. Her eyes were dull and broken, staring in horror at a life which she had only narrowly escaped, “If I may, sir…?”
He smiled indulgently at her, which made him stumble against the gravel path. He clearly needed to watch his feet, if they were to continue walking in a straight line. Jane caught her balance when his stumble wrenched her sideways. Collins did not check upon her health or even consider that she might be injured. Jane shook her head and spoke again.
“Mr. Collins, if I am to embrace my life with you then you must assure me that you will also do your part. That you will be as gentle and generous a son to my mother as you are a husband to me.”
Collins looked offended, “Do you think otherwise, madam? Your mother will be cared for as fits her station, of course. It would be scandalous for any man to neglect a widow in need - and in my position, madam… my parishioners expect…”
“Yes, sir. I understand. Your profession depends upon your goodness, and so some shall be assigned.” Jane was almost whispering now. Collins was not sensible enough to unpick her scathing words and heard only the first few. They seemed to flatter him, and he gave her a small smile. He scowled, though, when she continued: “What of my sisters?”
Collins scoffed, then stumbled again. This time Jane managed to pull her arm free. She waited for him to stand, not bothering to offer any assistance, and then gestured to a paved path to their left.
“This is the shortest route back to the house, sir. I fear that we have walked too far tonight. Let us go back to the others and tell them that everything is settled.”
“It is?” he burbled, still rubbing his forehead giddily. Jane looked at him, and her face was as severe as the icy moon.
“Yes, sir. I do not think we have anything left to talk about.”
Chapter 72
Georgiana Darcy looked down from the balcony, fascinated. As a living woman she had despised balls. She felt as if she was walking among lions and they were licking their lips. Even with the confidence of her social position and her brother’s formidable protection, Georgiana was sure that they were going to strip her down to the bones.
The men had obvious reasons to look at her like that. Her fortune was a tantalising morsel, and Georgiana knew that she was not unattractive. But the women used those same facts as an excuse to prowl around her, looking for weaknesses.
Georgiana had once read that, in Africa, it was not the lions but the lionesses who savagely brought down their prey. It did not surprise her. Females having sharper claws was rather obvious, when you thought about it. They knew how to use them, no matter what species they came from.
To be able to look down on them from the balcony was delicious. Georgiana could enjoy everything pleasant from a position of complete safety.
She liked the music most of all. At first there were only a few quiet melodies, drifting out from the hallway and often swallowed up by the sound of the crowd. It was Georgiana whohad thought of pairing the harp with a viola. Dear Jane had spent a patient afternoon interpreting grunts, mongrel words and primal gestures into the genteel opinions of an educated lady. A few times, Georgiana wept with frustration. Jane never did. She would send for tea, or go to open the window, but never showed the slightest sign of fatigue.
Darcy always called Elizabeth an angel, and to him she surely was. To Georgiana, her brother’s wife was a glowing candle. Jane was the sun. Oh, how she loved them both! Elizabeth was her sister. Jane was hervoice.
Georgiana looked down into the garden. Beyond the broad marble steps which led from the rear of the house into the garden, Elizabeth had designed a ballroom. The fountain in the centre of the terrace was ringed by a circle of chairs and settees. To the left of them were card tables and tables of refreshments, for those who were too impatient to wait for a servant to bring them a tray. All of the furniture was decorated with greenery - not gaudy hothouse flowers, but sweet summer blooms, ivy and honeysuckle and long-necked daisies. The effect was that the entire ‘room’ had grown from the ground, like Titania’s fairy bower.
