CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
We went to Hertfordshire, the four of us snugly fitted in the coach. Mr Bennet entertained us with a wry tale of having met his heir for the first time not six months ago. The man must have been a caricature of the old gentleman’s imagination, since no one could possibly be so strange a combination of stupidity, false humility, and self-importance.
“Did you visit him?” I asked, recalling Miss Elizabeth’s claim they had never met the man. Did she even know her father had made his heir’s acquaintance?
“Having lately learnt of my wife’s fate, he came to Longbourn unexpectedly while my daughters were visiting Mrs Gardiner,” he explained. I wondered whether this was when his youngest girls had been taken to school, since Mr Bennet looked momentarily grieved.But he roused himself from his reflections and said, “He had the effrontery to appear at my doorstep to announce he came to pick a wife from among my girls.”
“He could not have!” Mrs Annesley cried with amusement in her voice. “You have said that only to make us laugh.”
“I am in earnest, madam. He did indeed offer to marry a daughter to lessen the sting of the entail.”
I reluctantly thought such an arrangement might have been for the best. “He did not succeed with the ladies?” I asked.
“He was never given the chance. I would rather see my daughters at the mercy of the parish than forced to live with such a fool.” Mr Bennet chuckled at the expressions of horror on the faces of the ladies sitting across from him. “You do not believe me, but I am sincere. He was a stupid brute of a man, dressed as a parson, who bowed and scraped at anyone who even smelled of quality. I offered to have him horse-whipped off my estate if that would make leaving easier for him, but he left voluntarily, presumably to Kent.”
“No. Surely not!” I said, whipping my head around to stare at Mr Bennet. “Mr Collins is your cousin?”
“You have met him, have you? But this is wonderful! You can certify my account of him as fair, for even now, Mrs Annesley is looking at me with disbelief.”
I shook my head in dismay. “He is in possession of the living held by my aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
Mr Bennet again laughed aloud. “My cousin’sesteemed patronessis your relation, is she?”
I could not express any of my damning opinions of her. Instead I said, “You are right. He would never have done for your daughters, sir.”
My sister asked how Lady Catherine could have selected such a man for a living, and I replied, “You have only to think of our aunt to know that she would prefer someone she can dominate. To see them together is exquisitely painful, though I believe Mr Bennet would find such a farce the most entertaining thing he had witnessed in his life.”
My sister shuddered, Mr Bennet smiled to imagine it, and very soon we were at Longbourn.
I amloath to admit how fiercely my heart pounded upon my return to a place that was ever-present in my mind. To cover my discomposure, I made a show of being glad to see Bandit and even unbent enough to ruffle his ears. He answered with ear-piercing barks of joy, slobbered on my sister’s gloves, trampled Mrs Annesley’s shoes, and seeing the boy approach from the stables with a lead, he then made a game of runningwildly down the drive, through a field, and into the spinney while being chased by half the household.
“Oh Bandit,” Miss Bennet sighed complacently. Miss Elizabeth went forward to my sister, took her and her companion into the house, and the rest followed. I spoke to Reese about the horses, begged my groom to aid in bringing the dog back home, and then I, too, went inside.
What I saw at the door to the parlour arrested me. There, sitting on a sofa between Miss Bennet and Miss Mary, with Miss Elizabeth on a chair close by, was Georgiana, beaming her joy.
I came quietly into the room and exchanged a look with Mrs Annesley. And though I was sure that lady would rather sit by the fire or be shown her room, she had the good grace to allow Mr Bennet to take her to his book-room to see the published journal of the notable naturalist, Sir Joseph Banks.
I turned back to the cluster of ladies on the sofa.
“But we are behaving very badly to harry you with our attentions,” Elizabeth said as she stood and offered her hand to my sister. “May I take you to your room? Your maid has been here this past hour, and I am sure she has put things just as you like them.”
Mary followed them up the stairs, leaving only Miss Bennet in the room.
“I hardly know my father, sir,” she said. “Is he indeed in such good spirits or is he making a show for us?”
“What you see is what he has shown to me since we left Hertfordshire, which is a rising interest in the world and an animation in his conversation. You were right that he only needed a change in scenery, but I am sorry to take him away from your family at the festive season. Would you not come with us? We could delay a day or two?—”
“You are kind to offer it, sir, but you see, my sisters are expected from Bath. It is all for the best. I did not know how Papa would manage seeing them again, and in fact, I have so dreaded Christmas I had delayed sending for them until it could be put off no longer.”
“When do you expect them?”
“Tomorrow. You must think me an ogre not to send for them the moment I could freely do so, but I kept them as parlour boarders for the past two weeks out of cowardice, I suppose.” She paused and looked downcast before adding, “I should perhaps explain that my father is forcibly reminded of my mother when he sees my younger sisters, but Lydia in particular casts him into gloom, for she favours our mother in both looks and manners. I feared he would sink back into the low spirits from which he has so lately begun to heal.”
After a slight pause in which Miss Bennet mastered her ruffled feelings, I spoke lightly and with a smile in my voice.
“You must write to me if there is anything you need. You may do so without fear of further raising the expectations of our acquaintances, and I daresay my reputation would survive even if you did.”
She looked up in surprise and smiled warmly. I was then able to ask her what I wished to know, what my gentle jest had alluded to.
