Mary blinked. "That is... unlikely. But I will admit, I have searched for it and found nothing. "
Elizabeth shook her head. "There is more, Mary. Since returning from Netherfield, I have been in turmoil because I know what is coming. Tomorrow, Mama will redirect Mr. Collins toward me by implying Jane is engaged. Lydia will insist we walk to Meryton, where we will meet a man—Mr. Wickham. He is charming and pleasant, but he is not what he seems. He is an enemy of Mr. Darcy."
Mary, still hesitant, studied her sister’s face. "And why does this trouble you so?"
Elizabeth sighed. "Because Mr. Darcy already suspects I am in league with Wickham. He does not know how I played his favorite song—yes, Mary, it is his favorite—or how I know about his sister. He has not fully formed his suspicions, but if he sees me speaking with Wickham so soon after, it may confirm his worst fears."
Mary clasped her hands together, deep in thought. "You realize how mad this all sounds, do you not? And yet... how else could you know such things?"
Elizabeth reached for her sister’s hand, her voice earnest. "I know it is difficult to believe. I would not believe it myself were I in your place. But, Mary, I swear to you—I am telling the truth. I do not know why or how this has happened, but I cannot ignore it."
Mary exhaled slowly, her mind clearly weighing logic against the impossible. Finally, she nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Very well, Elizabeth. I do not know what to think, but I will listen. Tell me everything you remember."
Elizabeth told Mary all that had happened up to this point, She hesitated, then allowed herself a small smile. "On a different note, would you perhaps want Mr. Collins's attention instead? I will never have him, but perhaps we can direct him your way, or shall Charlotte have him?"
Mary was silent for a long moment, considering. "You said I do not go on the walk with you tomorrow? Perhaps I should. I will observe him, learn more about him, and then decide."
She paused, then added, "As for Wickham and Mr. Darcy... I see your dilemma. We cannot prevent our youngest sisters from going into town tomorrow, nor stop Mr. Darcy from seeing them meet Wickham, even if you are not there. I am not saying I believe you fully, but if this plays out as you say tomorrow, I will have to reconsider my doubts. In the meantime, we must think of something."
Chapter 15
Mr. Collins was not a sensible man, and Mary had long suspected as much, though she had rarely spared the thought before. Now, with the knowledge Elizabeth had imparted, she found herself studying him with a newfound critical eye. His manners, though self-important, were meant to be obliging; his speech, though long-winded, was intended to be pleasing. But Mary, keenly observant, saw through the obsequiousness to the deep well of conceit beneath.
Having overheard her mother’s maneuvering that morning, she was of no doubt that Elizabeth’s warning had been correct. Mr. Collins had quickly altered his affections from Jane to Elizabeth with no more deliberation than one would give to the selection of a dish at supper. A man such as he, who prided himself on both humility and consequence in equal measure, would not be persuaded by logic or reason once he had decided upon a course of action.
She had, of course, considered Elizabeth’s suggestion regarding Mr. Collins with great care. It was true that she, more than any of her sisters, had an appreciation for the gravity of a comfortable position in life. And yet, would she be suited to a husband whose intellect she could never admire? Whose every opinion would be framed not byreason but by the dictation of another? She had once believed that a good wife ought to be dutiful, that a woman of sense might improve even a weak-minded husband. But was she capable of such self-denial? Of curbing her sharp judgments and enduring a lifetime of inane conversation?
Mary resolved that she would observe Mr. Collins more closely during their walk that afternoon. If nothing else, she would use the opportunity to study his character further. If Elizabeth’s premonitions were true, she ought to make the most of such knowledge.
When the appointed hour arrived, Mary descended the stairs to find her sisters already assembled. Lydia and Kitty, chattering excitedly about the officers, barely noticed her entrance, while Elizabeth gave her a knowing glance. If Mary were to alter the course of things, she would have to act soon.
As the party set off towards Meryton, Mary took deliberate care to fall into step with Mr. Collins. His gait was stiff, his hands clasped before him as he walked, his every movement exuding the air of a man profoundly pleased with himself.
“I must say, Miss Mary,” he began, in a tone that suggested she was about to be greatly edified, “it is most fortunate that I should arrive at Longbourn at such an opportune moment. To make amends for my future inheritance by securing a match within the family—why, I can imagine no better display of my humble gratitude.”
Mary regarded him steadily. “And is gratitude the chief requirement in a marriage, sir?”
Mr. Collins started, as though the notion had never been questioned before. “Why, gratitude is indeed a noble sentiment, one that ought to guide the actions of every right-minded individual. Of course, duty must also be considered. A wife should be dutiful to her husband, just as I am dutiful to my esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She has advised me most generously on the subject of matrimony.”
Mary very nearly sighed. “And does Lady Catherine’s wisdom extend to the sort of woman you ought to marry?”
Mr. Collins smiled in a way that suggested he was about to impart something of great significance. “Indeed, she has oft impressed upon me the necessity of choosing a woman of modesty and sense, one who will respect my position as a clergyman and understand the importance of my obligations.”
Elizabeth, who had been listening nearby, caught Mary’s eye and arched a brow. Mary knew what her sister was thinking—could she endure a lifetime of such conversation? Could any woman?
As they walked toward Meryton, Elizabeth felt the weight of her thoughts pressing upon her. She had planned to distract Mr. Collins, to keep him occupied with Mary’smusings, and ensure a moment alone with Jane. The moment arrived when Lydia caught sight of Denny and shrieked in delight.
“Oh! There is Captain Denny!” she cried. “Come, Kitty, let us greet him before he disappears.”
Elizabeth seized the opportunity. “Jane,” she said quickly, grasping her sister’s arm, “I have just recalled something of great importance. Will you return home with me?”
Jane blinked in surprise. “Of course, but—”
“It is quite urgent,” Elizabeth pressed. Mary, sensing Elizabeth’s intent, turned to Lydia and Kitty.
“I shall keep Mr. Collins entertained,” Mary offered. “You know how fond he is of a rapt audience.”
Lydia and Kitty hardly noticed her words, their attention wholly fixed upon the approaching officers. Elizabeth exchanged a grateful glance with Mary before hastening Jane in the opposite direction. As they left the main road, she felt the first stirrings of unease—she had prevented one meeting, but another was about to take place.
