Chapter 13
Drawing Room
Longbourn
Four O’clock in the Afternoon
The hush that lay over the drawing room was unusual, given that the entire Bennet family was gathered within its confines.
There was very little conversation, but despite this quietude, there was an undercurrent of tension in the atmosphere as the family waited for the arrival of Mr. Bennet’s heir, Mr. Collins.
Elizabeth hoped that the man was sensible and would serve as a good master to the estate when Mr. Bennet was gone.
Based on the clergyman’s letter, though, she rather doubted that he was a wise man, which meant the upcoming visit might well prove tiresome.
Elizabeth had selected a chair nearby the fire and curled up in it with a volume of Shakespeare's sonnets.
She had read every poem in the book many times, and the words soothed her spirit as her eyes wandered over the familiar pages.
There had been little time for rest over the past few days, as most of their spare hours were filled with continuing preparations for the upcoming Season.
There were plans to be made and houses to be discussed among the family, the merits and drawbacks of each new option roundly debated with every fresh missive from Mr. Gardiner.
As Mrs. Bennet had anticipated, there were plenty of houses from which to choose at this early stage, before Society began trickling back to London in late winter.
This would benefit them, but it did make selecting one more difficult.
The options had, for the time being, been narrowed down to three, each preferred for different reasons.
For her own part, Elizabeth most liked the house that was nearby Hyde Park because it would be wonderfully convenient to what passed for the natural world in the middle of Town.
Hyde Park famously had many paths for walking as well as riding, and she looked forward to enjoying them, even if she was required to be escorted by one of their servants.
Noises from the hall beyond drew her attention.
Elizabeth looked up at the door, then marked her place and laid aside her book.
She was not the only one to have heard the knock on the door and the subsequent footsteps and the voices after.
Around the room, all the Bennet ladies were doing the same, with varying degrees of curiosity and trepidation.
Mr. Bennet rose to his feet just as it swung open to admit Mr. Hill and their guest.
“Mr. Collins,” the butler announced and then departed.
All at once, skirts rustled and whispered as the six ladies rose to their feet and curtseyed.
Elizabeth’s first glimpse of Mr. Collins did little to improve her initial doubtful opinion of the heir to the estate.
There was no handsomeness in his face or form, being both plain and plump, with his dark hair severely combed in a most unflattering style.
His expression, at least, was conciliatory, and an uncertain smile hovered on his lips.
Mr. Bennet turned towards his womenfolk. “My dears, please welcome our cousin Mr. Collins. Mr. Collins, my wife Mrs. Bennet, our daughters Jane, Elizabeth, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia.”
Each lady nodded courteously as her name was mentioned, and Mr. Collins resembled some type of fanciful bird, bobbing up and down in a bow to each lady.
“Sit down, Mr. Collins, please,” Mr. Bennet said, gesturing toward a comfortable chair near the fire.
Mr. Collins obediently took his place, and the younger two girls quietly left the room as it was time for their French lesson with Miss Trent. Mrs. Bennet waited until the door had closed behind them before turning a kindly smile on the newcomer.
“Mr. Collins,” she said, “I hope that your journey here was a pleasant one?”
“Oh yes, Mrs. Bennet, it was very well indeed. My esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, was kind enough to arrange for me to be taken by gig to the local market town, where I took a stagecoach to London, and then I changed to a new coach at the Golden Pelican Inn, which allowed me to journey onward to Brandyton, and from thence I hired a gig to come here. You have a wonderful house, Sir, Madame, and the furniture is charming and seems well made.”
Elizabeth compressed her lips as their guest looked around with obvious enthusiasm.
She wondered if he was always so long-winded.
The words were, perhaps, courteous enough, but given that the young clergyman would one day be master of this house, his gaze seemed as greedy as it was full of admiration.
“Thank you, Mr. Collins,” Mr. Bennet said and with sufficient dryness that even their guest, who did not seem perceptive, looked a trifle taken aback. He did not, however, stop talking.
“May I say, Mrs. Bennet,” he continued, turning an eager countenance on first Jane, and then Elizabeth, and then Mary, “that you are most blessed to have such a fine family of daughters. I have heard much of their beauty, but fame has fallen short of the truth. I have no doubt that you will all in due time see them well disposed in marriage!”
“I am sure you are correct, sir,” Mrs. Bennet answered and then turned to say to the older three girls, “My dears, I wonder if you would mind allowing us to speak to Mr. Collins alone.”
Elizabeth and her sisters arose with alacrity and passed quietly out of the room just as a maid entered with tea service. She was not surprised that her parents wished to have some private time with Mr. Collins, the better to speak plainly about certain important issues.
***
William Collins watched with disappointed bewilderment as the young ladies left the room. He had come to Longbourn for the express purpose of choosing a bride from among his cousins and would appreciate a few more minutes to dwell on their fair countenances before making any such decision.
But indeed, there was no particular need for more assessment. Miss Bennet was not only the eldest of the ladies, but she was also by far the most beautiful with her blonde hair, blue eyes, and…
“Mr. Collins!”
He turned startled eyes on Mrs. Bennet, who said, “How do you like your tea, sir?”
“Oh, my apologies,” he said. “I fear that I was woolgathering and did not hear your initial question. I do beg your pardon. I like milk and two lumps of sugar, Mrs. Bennet, though if that is too much sugar, I beg you will tell me so. My mother, bless her soul, used to say that more than two lumps of sugar was excessive, and my father took but one. I must say that I have always had a bit of a sweet tooth and have adopted the maximum that is reasonable…”
As Mr. Collins gabbled on, the lady nodded and added milk and two lumps of sugar and handed over the tea, which Mr. Collins accepted with a smile, followed by a sip.
It was excellent tea, hot and sweet, and he felt his anxieties subside a trifle.
Truly, there was no reason for him to be worried.
He was, after all, heir to the estate and only intended to bless the Bennets by choosing one of the daughters in marriage.
The next ten days ought to be splendid, as he would become engaged to Miss Bennet and…
“Mr. Collins,” Mr. Bennet said, breaking into his thoughts, “my wife and I want to speak directly about your initial letter to me. You mentioned that you wished to possibly make amends to my daughters regarding the entail. We were both rather puzzled by that and beg you to speak plainly. How do you intend to atone for your position as heir to Longbourn?”
The clergyman blinked and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He usually had no problem finding words to say, but there was an odd look in his cousin’s eyes, whereas Mrs. Bennet, strangely enough, looked a trifle upset.
“Erm, that is, I thought it obvious … well, the truth is that I am well aware of the hardship to my poor cousins in being disinherited due to the entail. Given my situation as the heir, along with being a clergyman with a good living, I have come here to Longbourn with the express and magnanimous purpose of marrying one of my cousins, which will permit the estate to stay within the family, so to speak.”
He smiled brightly at his cousin, confident that such assurances would please the older man but was taken aback by the grim set of Mr. Bennet’s jaw.
“Mr. Collins,” Mrs. Bennet said, and he turned toward the lady hopefully. He was aware that Longbourn, while a fine estate, was not wealthy enough to provide reasonable dowries for five daughters. Surely his hostess knew how munificent he was being in journeying here on such a noble task.
“You are very kind, sir,” she said, which caused his shoulders to relax, only to tense again as she continued, “However, there are reasons why none of my girls is likely an appropriate bride for you.”
He swallowed and frowned at her in confusion. “Not appropriate? I cannot imagine that to be true, Mrs. Bennet. They all seem to be very beautiful, amiable young ladies…”
“You mistake me, sir,” she interrupted gently and put her hand on the teapot again. “Would you care for more tea?”
He swallowed the rest of his tea and held out his cup, which she filled again, and added milk and sugar, and handed it back.
“Please let me explain,” Mrs. Bennet said.
“Mr. Bennet and I were widower and widow when we married after each of us losing our first spouse. Mr. Bennet’s first wife sadly died shortly after birthing Jane, and my first husband suffered a terrible fall down some stairs.
My first husband left money in trust for the child of our union, Elizabeth, and she will soon be of age and able to access that money.
She and Jane will thus be embarking on a Season next spring in London.
Neither is interested in marriage yet, and the younger three girls are rather too young to wed.
I assume, based on your words, that you wish to find a wife in the near future and not wait many months. ”