Chapter 5
Clem William Collins felt trepidation at the express in his hands.
It was in a feminine hand, but it was from Longbourn.
Was it the letter he dreaded telling him Bennet had sired a male whelp?
Even though reading was not something he enjoyed or did very well, he broke the seal and unfolded the paper.
Longbourn
Hertfordshire
Dear Mr Collins,
Please excuse the liberty I take in writing to you.
My name is Frances Bennet, called Fanny by all, the wife of your LATE cousin who was, until he died this very day, the master of this estate.
That exalted position now falls to you.
I took it upon myself to write to you because both my brother and brother-in-law are away, and I know not when they will return. I did not want you to suffer by waiting to be notified of my husband’s death until they deigned to come here.
If you are not aware, I birthed a third babe more than two months past. Do not be concerned; it was another female. I am convinced that the illness which took your cousin robbed him of the ability to sire a son, something I am sure that you will not share with him.
From what I understand, you are not married.
The women in your area must be simpletons to allow a man of your prospects and manly attributes to escape.
Their loss is the gain of a woman, like me, who would appreciate you for the sterling man you are.
If you consider me for the role of your wife, we will not have to wait a year as I refuse to mourn a man who was so cruel to me.
Did you know that he compromised me? I would never have married a weak man like him in any other case.
Do hurry here as soon as may be so you can secure that which is legally yours. I will be waiting in anticipation of your arrival.
With deep respect and regards,
Fanny Bennet (hopefully not Bennet for long.)
Collins was pleased beyond measure. His cousin had done him the favour of leaving the mortal world without male issue. It was about time that his luck changed.
He lived in a small cottage now, but until five years previously, Collins had been the master of Collins Farm on the outskirts of Faversham. He liked two things far more than farming, and they were drink and games of chance.
One night, he had been deep in his cups, and those playing vingt-et-un had taken advantage of his foxed state.
By the time he realised it, he had lost a large sum and signed vowels for the amount.
When the holder of the debt had come to demand payment, Collins had tried to send the man on his way.
Unfortunately, he had several large men with him who used their fists to convince Collins it was in his best interest to pay up.
The last straw was the creditor threatening to send him to debtor’s prison.
To satisfy what he owed, Collins sold the farm. At least, there had been enough left over to purchase a small cottage and some grog. To subsist, Collins had worked as a labourer, something he had hated.
Even before he lost the farm, no lady had accepted his proposal. Afterward, not even the daughters of tradesmen would approach him.
That had all changed with the receipt of this letter.
Not only was he the master of Longbourn, but his late cousin’s wife was offering herself to him.
She was willing to marry him! How he would enjoy bedding the woman who used to be married to that uppity Bennet.
What she said about his cousin being deficient and not able to give her a son fit with his own beliefs.
On top of that, she seemed to recognise his worth and paid him the deference he deserved.
It was Friday. He would offer his cottage for sale, and once he had the funds, Collins would rent a carriage to convey him to his estate. The master of Longbourn did not arrive by post coach.
He knew of one or two men who had expressed an interest in his dwelling. As such, Collins was confident he would leave Faversham early next week.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Jones knew that Bennet had mentioned provisions he had made for his daughters, but with Phillips not in Meryton, he was not sure how to proceed. He did what he could and consulted with Mr Pierce about the funeral.
Mrs Bennet refused to either view her husband’s body or wear black, something she steadfastly clung to even in the face of Mr Pierce’s remonstrations.
Between the rector and the medical man, with assistance from the Hills, the funeral was organised to be held in the morning of Saturday, the final day of March.
It was very well attended by men from the area surrounding, and including, Meryton.
The earthly remains of Thomas Henry Bennet were interred next to his beloved parents and with generations of Bennets past in the section of St Hugh’s Cemetery reserved for that family.
Thanks to word spreading that Mrs Fanny Bennet refused to wear black or mourn her husband, no women of the area went to Longbourn to condole with her. Her behaviour caused even the handful of ladies who used to bear her company to cut ties with her.
Fanny was not pleased that she received no sympathy from her so-called friends.
She decided she needed to discover where some funds were in the study so she could purchase some new gowns to make sure that she looked her best when Mr Collins arrived.
She made her way to the study where she had so cleverly discovered Mr Collins’s direction but found the door closed, and worse, locked.
“HILL! HILL!” Fanny screamed.
Both Hills presented themselves before the woman they had come to hold in contempt since her refusal to mourn Mr Bennet. “Mrs Bennet, you called,” Hill drawled.
“Unlock this study now!” Fanny demanded.
“I am sorry, Mrs Bennet; I cannot do that. It has to remain locked until the will is read,” Hill explained as he would to a child. “Only then will the solicitor who reads the will unlock the door.”
“You will do as I say! I am the mistress here!” Fanny screeched in her high-pitched shrill voice.
“No, Mrs Bennet, you are not. Nothing changes until the will is read,” Hill responded. “Even if Mr Collins arrives, he will not be allowed into the study until either Mr Gardiner or Mr Phillips has removed everything not part of the entail.”
The Hills were aware the horrid woman had sent an express to Mr Collins.
Like the rest of those employed at Longbourn, had it not been for the three girls upstairs in the nursery, they would have left to seek employment elsewhere.
Mr Phillips was away, but Mr Long, a good friend of Mr Bennet’s, was the magistrate.
He would not allow anything untoward to occur until the will was read.
After hearing Mrs Bennet refused to wear blacks, he had gone to Longbourn to make sure the girls were well, and thankfully it was as it should have been.
The day the master had gone to his final reward, Hill had made his way to Meryton and spoken to Mr Phillips’s head clerk.
The man was at a loss as to how to contact his employer because he was aware Mr and Mrs Phillips had left for a wedding trip directly after their wedding.
He did not know the destination of said wedding trip, but he knew that Mr Phillips would be back in Meryton on the second Friday of April.
He refused to write to Mr Morris in Devonshire of Mr Bennet’s passing, and disturbing the wedding trip would not change that.
As the will had not been written in their office, Jamison was not aware of its contents.
With all of this, the Hills and the servants at Longbourn would carry on as normal until Mr Bennet’s will was read, and they knew where the girls would go to be cared for and protected. At least, the selfish woman who bore them was still feeding Miss Mary.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
With his cottage sold, Collins departed Faversham on Tuesday the third day of April. The coachman told him it was around eighty miles to his destination, so they would overnight at the coaching inn in Bromley to arrive on Wednesday in the afternoon.
Although he was very impatient to see the estate which would be his, Collins knew there was no way to arrive sooner.
In the afternoon of the second day of travel, Collins sat up excitedly when the rented conveyance passed the gateposts of his estate and was pulled down the drive by the two horses. How good the sound of the crunch of the gravel was as he realised it all belonged to him.
Collins ignored the fact that unless he had a son, he too would lose the estate. It was an inconvenient fact, and besides, he had a woman waiting for him who was ready and willing to marry him and be his wife.
He was somewhat put out that other than a blonde-haired lady—he assumed it was his late cousin’s widow—no one else was there to meet him. No lined up servants to bow at the feet of their new master. Collins would teach them how to show him the respect he deserved!
When the lone man who had ridden on the back bench opened the door, Collins alighted. Up close, he could see that the woman before him was a beauty, not at all homely. That was a good sign.
“Welcome, Mr Collins,” Fanny simpered as she dropped into a deep curtsy. She knew all men liked to be flattered, so flatter Mr Collins she would.
As she appraised him, Fanny could see that he was a very homely man with little hair left on his head.
He was a little shorter and far portlier than her late husband, and although she would have preferred a handsome man, it mattered not.
Convincing this man to marry her would secure her future and save her from the hedgerows, and that was the only thing of importance.
“You are a pretty thing,” Collins stated as he allowed his eyes to rove licentiously over her shape. “Yes, you will do. Where are my servants?”