“Indeed. I watched them for some time. Thinking themselves alone, they did not attempt to hide their affection. At one point, she even lifted his hand to her cheek! To her cheek, sir!”
Yarby tried to think of a way to end this distasteful conversation. He stood. “Well. I shall speak to my sister and ask that she be more careful. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”
“I fear that will not be sufficient, Mr. Yarby.”
There was a long pause as a wave of dread washed over the rector. He slowly returned to his seat.
“No?” he asked softly. “What else is there?”
“Naturally, you will chastise your sister and insist that she check her behavior, but the matter cannot be so easily hushed up.”
“I fail to understand your meaning.” Mr. Yarby did, in fact, begin to see where this was leading, but he was hoping against hope that he was mistaken.
“I dislike having to resort to this, but I think, in order to assure yourself that word of this scandalous relationship does not escape into town, we must come to…an agreement.”
Mr. Yarby let out a long breath. It was as he feared: Mr. Collins was blackmailing him. But for what?
“If you…that is…I cannot pay you for your silence if that is your meaning.”
There was a pause as Mr. Collins stared at him with a satisfied little smile on his face.
Mr. Yarby felt his temper begin to rise. “And if you expect me to vacate the position so that you may take it, be assured that I would then report your attempted extortion to Mr. Bennet myself!”
Mr. Collins gave a dry chuckle. “Now, now…things need not escalate to such an extent. Mr. Bennet has hired you, and only he or the bishop can fire you. And sadly, although I am his cousin, there is no guarantee that, should you depart, I would be given the living.”
“Then what are you asking?”
Mr. Collins crossed his legs and leaned forward, speaking in a low, urgent voice. “Despite all efforts, I have been unable to secure a position in a new parish. I feel I must bring in something to support my family. Living at the mercy of Sir William Lucas has been quite difficult for me. So. What I am proposing is this: you will take me on as your ‘curate’—really more an equal partner than curate—but call it what you will. You can say you feel the need of a more experienced hand to guide you in your first parish. You will pay me sixty pounds a year and allow me two sermons a month as my own. In exchange, on the sad day when Mr. Bennet passes and I become the owner of Longbourn, I shall keep you on. In addition, I shall keep the secret of your sister’s attachment to Mr. Bennet. But if you refuse my terms, all your sister has done will be revealed. Dare you risk the scorn of your flock or the wrath of your bishop? Most likely, you will be dismissed on moral grounds. But even if you survive, I assure you that when I take charge of Longbourn estate, I will not only dismiss you, but I will so tarnish your reputation that you will essentially never work as a clergyman again.” He sat back, clearly waiting for a response.
Mr. Yarby’s head was whirling. His position at Longbourn parish—so secure, so happy—was all at tremendous risk. If he refused Mr. Collins’s demands, Amelia’s reputation—and by association, his own—would be badly damaged. If he agreed and took on Mr. Collins, he would not only have to survive on little more than he was paid when he was a curate but also work closely with a man whose very presence irritated him beyond measure. But what could he do? Perhaps he could send Amelia away for a time. No, that would never work. Where could she go, at any rate? Their older brother did not own a home but took rooms in a respectable lodging house, so Amelia could not join him there. And they had no other family. Plus, there would be no guarantee that Mr. Collins would not sully her reputation just for spite.
He took a shaky breath and let it out slowly.
“Very well. I agree to your terms.”
Chapter 15
“It is good to see you, Mary; thank you for coming,” Elizabeth said in a subdued voice. Propped up in bed, she appeared wan and her cheeks a bit sunken, Mary thought.
“You are pale,” Mary said. She crossed the room, bringing a chair with her to sit next to the bed, still studying her sister. “And far too thin. Are you eating enough?” she demanded, bluntly.
Elizabeth smiled. “I am just now beginning to get my appetite back. No doubt, if Mama were still with us, she would be down in the kitchen, ordering beef bone broth to be made at once.”
Mary half rose from her chair. “I can do that—do you wish me to do that for you?” she asked earnestly.
Elizabeth laughed softly and motioned Mary to return to her seat. “No. I never cared for it personally. Our cook is excellent. I only fear I am injuring her feelings by sending back too many uneaten trays.” Mary watched her sister close her eyes briefly and sigh, as if speaking so many sentences had tired her. Then Lizzy opened her eyes again and gave a small smile. “I truly am glad you have come to Pemberley. Tell me all the news of Meryton and Longbourn.”
“Things are very much as they always were, I suppose,” Mary said, then fell silent.
After a pause, Lizzy said with mock severity, “You shall have to do better than that, Mary, if you are to see me become well again. I am quite in need of some good gossip! Tell me, do you see much of Charlotte and Mr. Collins?”
Mary blushed at the gentle rebuke and gave a tiny laugh. “More than Papa would like, I am certain. I have invited them to dine with us three times, and of course, the Lucas family has had us to dinner at least as often. Charlotte is showing her pregnancy quite a bit now; she is due to give birth in late December, you know. She called on me at Longbourn before I set off and asked me to give you her best wishes for your recovery. In truth, I think she is quite fearful of giving birth herself. Hearing of your…difficulties may have made her nervous.”
“Childbirth is fraught with peril for all women, sadly,” Elizabeth said softly. “However, she is healthy if a bit older for a first time mother. I am sure all will be well. Let us just hope the baby favors her more than her husband.” She winked at Mary.
“Lizzy—you are quite wicked! You must truly be feeling better.” Mary smiled warmly. Had she ever had such an intimate conversation with her older sister? She could not recall.
After gossiping for another quarter of an hour, during which Mary detailed her growing friendship with Amelia Withers, Elizabeth’s eyes began to droop.
