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CHAPTER 19

Collins, Jane, and Lydia sat in the library—the former on one side of the desk and the latter two opposite—embroiled in discussion of the rumour that, by now, had made its way to Collins. Confused by all that her sister had accused the honourable Charles Bingley of doing, Jane said, “It seems odd that Mr. Bingley would behave as you suggest, for anyone who knows him would say he is the consummate gentleman. Are you certain everything unfolded just as you said, Lydia? It is not too late to clear up any misunderstanding.”

“La! Jane, you are determined to believe that just because Mr. Bingley did not love you as much as you would have liked that he cannot possibly be in love with me.”

Collins stared at his wife. “What is she saying?”

“Tell him, Jane. Tell him how everyone in the neighbourhood was certain Mr. Bingley was going to make you an offer of marriage, but he did not. No—he left with nary a word. He did not care enough for you to say goodbye. Now he prefers me, and you are jealous.” Lydia poked her tongue at her wounded eldest sister. “So, there!”

Collins stared at the sisters, his face red and his fists gripping the arms of the chair. “I have heard all I will hear from you, young lady. Leave—now! I shall decide what is to be done to salvage this wretched situation.”

“What can possibly be wretched about a wedding? Oh, how I adore weddings. And I shall have a lovely wedding trousseau.”

Collins bolted from his chair. “Leave!”

Lydia’s mouth gaped. It took a moment to fashion an apt response. “You dare speak to me in that tone, when I shall be so very rich and all you have to look forward to is this old place.”

He looked as if he were about to jump over the desk to rid himself of Lydia’s presence. Standing, she said, “Oh, I shall leave. And fear not, Jane, for I shall be certain to invite you and your husband to all my fine balls, even if he is so very unpleasant.”

Jane stood to take her leave soon after Lydia quit the room. Collins had other ideas.

“Is there any truth at all to what she said—about Bingley and you?”

“I am afraid her assertions are not without cause.”

He released a disgusted breath. “I suppose that explains a great deal.”

“Now, surely you do not think me jealous of Lydia.”

“Do I believe you are jealous because she has trapped that fool? Preposterous!”

Jane did not know that she would describe Bingley in such unflattering terms, but rather than hone in on the affront, she said, “So, you doubt Lydia’s version of the story as well?”

“Whether I believe her is of little consequence. The fact of the matter is there is the perception of wrongdoing on Bingley’s part. There is only one way to remedy the situation.”

Jane approached her husband, who by now was facing away from her and staring out the window.

“He must marry her,” said he.

“Earlier, you said Lydia’s outburst explains a great deal. Whatever did you mean?”

“It explains why the man looks at you the way he does—with little to no concern whether anyone notices him.”

He turned to face her; Jane lowered her eyes. Collins placed his hand under her chin and directed her gaze to meet his. “Surely you are no stranger to the way he feels.”

Jane said, “Pray, tell me that what Lydia said about my feelings for Mr. Bingley and what you now suppose as his lingering feelings for me have no bearing on your good opinion of me.”

Collins took her hand in his. “No, of course not, my dear, for there is nothing in the world anyone might say to me that would change the way I feel about you—about us. We both have our own past. What is important is what we make of our present and our future—together.”

Darcy and Bingley stood when Mr. Geoffrey Collins stormed into the room. From the looks of him, he was armed for battle.

“Mr. Bingley, it is good of you to see me, but I would, however—” he looked at Darcy and then back at Bingley, “prefer a private audience with you.”

“What can you have to say to me that my friend should not be privy to?”

“Surely you can be at no loss to understand why I am here. Gossip of what occurred under this roof is spreading.”

Bingley crossed his arms. “I will marry her.”