“Yes, I am aware that Mr. Collins has left. My aunt is quite enamored of his replacement.”
“What is your opinion of the new rector, if I may ask?”
“A very high one,” Georgiana replied, smiling. “I do not wish to be critical, but I never found Mr. Collins all that…inspiring.”
“Mr. Collins thinks himself quite a wit,” Mr. Darcy broke in, grinning, “but he is only half right.”
“Fitzwilliam! You are being unkind! He is our guest’s relation, after all.” But Mary noticed Georgiana was unable to keep a small smile off her face.
“I take no offense; please be easy on that account. Mr. Collins will someday have Longbourn,” she said thoughtfully. “I only hope that he will be worthy of it. I suppose he will give up preaching once that day comes and be content with managing the estate and living a gentleman’s life. Charlotte is a good person, and I feel certain she will tend to the house carefully. Although, I must admit it is hard for me to imagine her—or anyone— in my mother’s position.”
“You will always have a home here, Mary,” Mr. Darcy said. “You need not worry about being without a place once your father passes.”
“Which, of course, we all hope will be many, many years away,” added Georgiana earnestly.
Mary felt their pity. She looked down at her plate to gain control of her emotions.
They think me completely unmarriageable. They have already put me on the shelf. But I am but twenty-two! Georgiana is twenty, and nobody assumes she will remain unwed. Of course, she is quite pretty and has a handsome dowry. But still…
She took a sip of wine before trusting her voice to speak. “Yes, thank you both. Father is in good health, and will likely live for some time. And, one never knows what the future may bring. I could surprise everyone and marry after all. Then I would have no need of being…taken in.”
“Oh no! Mary, we did not mean to imply—that is…” Georgiana stammered.
Mary watched as Georgiana, unable to finish her thought, cast a desperate glance towards her brother who quickly filled the silence.
“Life is full of unexpected things, as you say, Mary. Why, there was a time when your sister could no more imagine herself being married to me than finding herself on the moon—such was her dislike of me!”
Both Mary and Georgiana laughed, smoothing over the moment of discomfort. Mr. Darcy then went on to entertain them with amusing stories of the nearly botched courtship.
Chapter 14
The reverend Mr. Yarby took his time removing his vestments following Sunday’s service. He was loath to return to his home as he was expecting a visitor—and not one for whom he had much fondness.
He was still puzzled over the short, terse note that had been delivered to him earlier in the week. Mr. Collins had written that he must speak with him that very Sunday on a “matter most urgent.” What could he mean?
When Mr. Collins arrived, Ellen ushered him into the small library where he took his seat across from Mr. Yarby. No tea was offered as Yarby was hoping the duration of the visit would be short, and he did not wish to prolong it with cordialities he did not wholeheartedly feel. Amelia had given him a rather surprised look when he told her specifically not to order tea or invite Mr. Collins to stay for supper, but she only nodded in agreement.
Now, Yarby took a deep breath and began. “Your message appeared very businesslike, Mr. Collins, so I urge you to bring forth your matter at once. What is most urgent that you required this meeting?”
Mr. Collins declined to answer directly, asking instead, “Is your sister, Mrs. Withers, around the parsonage at present?”
“No. She is taking a walk, I believe. Despite the chilly autumn weather, she has become most devoted to her regular perambulations.”
“And…does she walk alone today?”
Why does Mr. Collins’s voice sound so smug? Yarby wondered. He gave a tight smile. “I have no idea and I cannot see what bearing it may have on anything you have to discuss. Please get to the point if you will, Mr. Collins, I have work to do.” Mr. Yarby knew he was being a bit testy, but his guest was truly beginning to vex him.
“In fact, good sir, the company your sister keeps is precisely the reason I am here.” Mr. Collins replied.
Utterly confused, Yarby waited a moment for further explanation. When none was forthcoming, he was forced to ask, “Whom do you mean, Mr. Collins? I know she has become good friends with Mary Bennet. But I cannot see how that is an issue of any possible controversy.”
“It is a Bennet to whom I refer, Mr. Yarby, although not the Bennet you may be thinking of.” Yarby saw a smile spread across Mr. Collins’s doughy, but animated, face. “I see I must explain. Well. I happened to be strolling around the countryside the other day and saw your sister also enjoying the out-of-doors—with Mr. Bennet as her companion. As I observed them, it became clear to me they now have a very…intimate relationship.”
Mr. Yarby was so stunned, he could make no response. Leaning back in his chair and folding his hands across his ample stomach, Mr. Collins gave a satisfied chuckle.
“You are unaware of their friendship; I can tell from your countenance,” he continued. “Of course, they are both widowed at this point, so that is not shocking, although because Mrs. Withers is your sister, any such connection to your current employer is certain to raise eyebrows. But what is unacceptable by any definition of decorum is the quickness with which this relationship has…flourished. Mr. Bennet is still in full mourning. And for him to be traipsing around the neighborhood with her—so ostentatiously, so indiscreetly—will certainly damage both her and your reputations.”
Yarby struggled for a response to this shocking news. “I…I did not know—are you quite certain it was them?”
