Once alone with her father, Mary shed tears and begged for forgiveness. She explained the plot to convince her father to break with Amelia and fire Mr. Yarby, unaware that he already knew the particulars thanks to Elizabeth’s letter. When she at last finished her sad tale and sat, sniffing a bit into her handkerchief, Mr. Bennet came and sat next to her, patting her back in comfort.
“There, there, dry your eyes, my dear. You are forgiven. Love is a strange and powerful potion. It can alter one’s deepest personality traits and convictions. I believe we both have learned that lesson these past few months. It made me disregard the required mourning for your mother and allow myself to become deeply attached to Amelia. And it caused you to do something I believe I have not seen you do since early childhood: tell a falsehood.”
“Yes—but, Papa, your feelings for Amelia did not cause anyone pain as mine did.”
“That is where you are wrong. My indiscreet behavior with Amelia was witnessed by our cousin Mr. Collins, and he used that information to blackmail Mr. Yarby into taking him on as curate, threatening to spread the scandalous gossip about Amelia and me around Meryton if he was not hired.”
Mary gasped. “How dreadful! And he a man of the cloth too!”
Mr. Bennet chuckled. “Sadly, beneath their clerical garb, men are men after all and can be subject to all sorts of temptation.”
“But you will speak to the bishop and fire Mr. Collins at once, now that you know,” Mary said firmly. The thought of her dear Robert being extorted in such a way infuriated her. “In fact, he should be publicly censured for his actions!”
Mr. Bennet raised an amused eyebrow. “Goodness, Mary, what of forgiveness? Does the Bible not exhort us to do so?” Mary looked abashed, but before she could speak, he chuckled. “I am only teasing you. I will most assuredly have a serious conversation with Mr. Collins when my period of mourning is over and he can no longer do any damage with his gossip.”
There was a knock at the door. At Mr. Bennet’s call to enter, Mrs. Hill popped her head in.
“Mr. Collins is here to see you, sir,” she said.
Mr. Bennet gave Mary a wry smile.
“Talk of the devil.”
Chapter 35
Mr. Collins bustled in and made straight for Mr. Bennet, now seated at his desk.
“My dear Mr. Bennet, thank you for seeing me, and I do apologize for the short notice, but you will be glad I am come, for truly, I have the most shocking news to report…the most scandalous information regarding—” Mr. Collins, noticing Mary’s presence for the first time, broke off his speech a moment to bow his head to her. “I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet, I did not see you there.”
“Not at all, Mr. Collins,” said Mary in a frosty tone. “Papa and I were just finishing.” She nodded to her father and left the room.
“Won’t you sit down, Mr. Collins?” Mr. Bennet’s tone was only slightly warmer than his daughter’s. “What news have you to share?”
“It concerns your rector, Mr. Yarby. I have had some suspicions of him for quite some time, you see, and therefore felt it my duty to take steps to inquire as to his background. I had a suspicion he was not all he purported to be. And you will be pleased to learn, I was correct! I was entirely correct in my apprehension of him.”
“Will you please get to the point of the matter, Mr. Collins? I have much to do just now.”
“Of course, of course. Well—as you may know, the reverend Mr. Yarby came here with very little experience—I believe he had been a curate—or rather, he said he had been a curate for but a year or two.”
“Mr. Collins, I was the man who hired Mr. Yarby, so I am more than aware of his qualifications and background.”
“But are you aware, sir? Are you truly?” Mr. Collins pulled out a handkerchief and patted his damp upper lip before neatly folding the cloth again and returning it to his pocket. “As I said, for some time now, I have worried that there was more to him than we know, and I became determined—oh yes, determined—to seek out the truth for the sake of all concerned!”
“Indeed? For all concerned—or just for you?” Mr. Bennet stared intently into his cousin’s eyes.
“Well…well…” Mr. Collins was briefly flustered before plunging on again. “My point being—what do we really know of Yarby’s background? Why did he come to the clergy so late in life?”
“As I understand it, he had a failed business venture then cared for his ailing father until that man’s passing. It was then that Mr. Yarby found his calling. And judging from his popularity in the parish, I cannot help but think he made the right choice. His sermons are much to my liking.”
“He may have a natural…talent for speaking, but when I show you this document”—Mr. Collins fumbled in his coat, brought forth a folded piece of paper, and waved it violently, punctuating his final words—“you will no doubt come to the same conclusion as I.”
“Which is…?” Mr. Bennet took a deep breath, his patience rapidly coming to an end.
“That Mr. Yarby is a fraud. He has foisted himself upon your good nature to take this valuable living without any prior experience whatsoever!” Mr. Collins sat back, a bit breathless.
“Whatever do you mean? I received a very good reference from his former rector…a Mr.…Mr.…”
“Smethurst, correct?”
