Chapter 8
As he wrote in his letter, Mr. Collins arrived at exactly four in the afternoon. Bennet was sure the ridiculous man had waited somewhere so he could arrive at the time he had said he would.
Mr. Collins was not tall, inches shorter than six feet, was corpulent, and sported thinning greasy hair partially hidden under his black rector’s hat. The man was even more entertaining than Bennet had hoped he would be.
“What pleasant daughters you have, Cousin Bennet! I understood there are five Miss Bennets, yet I see only three to welcome me,” Collins stated, not hiding his indignation.
He could not understand why all of the Bennet daughters were not present and fawning over him because he was Lady Catherine’s clergyman.
Did they not realise that through him they might partake of her great condescension?
Were they not cognisant of the great compliment he, a parson, was willing to bestow on them?
“My oldest two would have been happy to meet you, Mr. Collins, but Jane, my eldest, was taken ill while visiting friends at Netherfield Park; my second daughter, Elizabeth, is nursing her back to health. Is it not admirable she cares so much for others?” Mrs. Bennet asked slyly as she started to direct the man towards Elizabeth.
She would never do better than the foul-smelling man and it was her duty to secure Longbourn for her family.
“That is indeed the Christian thing to do, so Miss Elizabeth deserves as much praise as my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, would…” Collins was about to launch into a soliloquy of the many wonders of his patroness when the Bennet matron interjected.
“My apologies, Mr. Collins,” Mrs. Bennet stated, “Mrs. Hill will show you to your chamber. I will have a bath readied for you, and you may want to rest after your journey today.”
“Yes, I would like to see my chambers, but a bath will not be necessary. My late honoured father taught me it was unhealthy to bathe above once in a fortnight,” Collins informed the Bennets.
He gave Kitty and Lydia thunderous looks after they burst into giggles as he explained his bathing regimen.
When he became the head of the family, he would take the two chits in hand.
He hoped the older daughters were prettier than the one who had been introduced as Mary.
She was decidedly plain and bookish. One of his exalted station deserved a beautiful wife.
Bennet just shook his head. He was sure his wife would attempt to steer his idiotic cousin toward Lizzy.
He hoped she would be able to discourage him before he proposed; as he knew his wife would not allow her to refuse, which meant she would harangue him until he agreed with her.
Lizzy was clever enough to redirect the man.
He did not need to worry about her, of that he was sure.
As they walked into the house there was no missing the way his cousin looked around like a wolf about to claim a lamb. Bennet was sure the man was cataloguing his future possessions. If only Fanny had been able to birth a son, the stinking man would never have been admitted to Longbourn.
It was a physical impossibility because his wife had locked her door to her husband after Lydia’s birth.
Fanny remained convinced Lizzy had cursed her, causing her to deliver only females.
Bennet tried to explain the babe had no choice as to its gender, but his wife had not wanted to hear so he had given up.
Once Hill had led Mr. Collins to the guest chamber, Bennet slipped back into his library, poured himself some port, and opened his book.
Once he was safely ensconced in his personal paradise, Bennet forgot about Collins and his Lizzy.
As was his wont, he shut out all thoughts of anything and anyone else when he was in his study.
“Mama, have you ever smelt a man with a worse odour than our stupid cousin?” Lydia asked after her mother called for tea for the four of them.
“He may need to revise his standards of cleanliness, but that is nothing to the fact he will be the master of this estate one day. He must marry one of you so Longbourn will be secured,” Fanny related.
“No Mama, I could never marry him,” Lydia claimed.
“Me neither!” Kitty exclaimed.
Mary was silent, but then her opinions were hardly ever canvassed. She would have loved to be married to a clergyman, but it was not something she felt comfortable articulating. She had noticed how the man looked at her with distaste, as most men did.
“You will not have to marry him, girls. It will be Miss Lizzy who shall do her duty,” Fanny asserted.
“Mama, she will never agree to marry him,” Lydia predicted.
“It shall be as I say,” Fanny stated not brooking any more dissention.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
George Wickham strutted down Meryton’s High Street like a peacock the following morning, kitted out in his lieutenant’s uniform, with Denny at his side. He saw numerous young girls in the town so, as far as he was concerned, there would be no shortage of entertainment.
One thing that had given him pause was the reaction when he mentioned the estate where he grew up and the name Darcy. Just before he launched into his well-rehearsed tale of Darcy cheating him out of his inheritance, Colonel Forster asked if Wickham knew Colonel Fitzwilliam.
There was only one man of his acquaintance he feared more than the Spaniard, and that was Richard Fitzwilliam.
Wickham was sure the only reason he was still breathing was because after his failure in Ramsgate, Darcy had restrained his cousin somehow.
He could hide from the Spaniard’s men, but not from Colonel Fitzwilliam.
From that man, there was nowhere he could hide.
Fitzwilliam would find him if he set his mind to it.
Wickham thanked his lucky stars he had not launched into his woe-is-me tale with Darcy cast as the villain, as he was sure the information would get back to Darcy’s cousin within a day or two. He would have to be more careful than was his wont in this town.
He spied two young girls in the thirteen- to fifteen-year-old range entering the smithy’s shop, and he decided that he would restrict himself to tradesmen’s daughters until just before he made his escape, unless of course there was a gentleman’s daughter who threw herself at him.
“Denny!” Both men turned around as Denny’s name was screamed out from the other side of the street.
“Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia Bennet,” Denny informed Wickham who had looked at him questioningly. “They are the youngest of five daughters and live on an estate, Longbourn.”
“Do they have fortunes?” Wickham asked as he began to calculate how to get his hands on someone else’s money again.
“From what I have been told, they will have one thousand pounds each, and then only when the mother, who is hale and healthy, dies,” Denny reported.
Wickham was disappointed. None of the Bennet chits could provide him with some much-needed blunt. He could not show his face in London until he paid the Spaniard what he owed.
“It is good to see you back from London,” Lydia stated breathlessly after she and Kitty ran across the road to talk to Denny and find out about the handsome officer with him.
“Thank you, Miss Lydia,” Denny bowed. “May I introduce you to my friend?”
“Please do,” Lydia cooed while Kitty remained silent.
“Miss Catherine Bennet, Miss Lydia Bennet, this is Lieutenant George Wickham, who joined the unit yesterday. Wickham, Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia Bennet,” Denny performed the introductions.
“It is good to have another officer join the militia,” Lydia said as she batted her eyelids at the handsome officer.
‘Just my luck—I need to keep away from gentlefolk. I would be able to bed this hussy in no time at all,’ Wickham commiserated with himself, ‘if she is as willing as she seems, I may just make an exception for her.’ “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Kitty,” Wickham bowed over her hand, “and Miss Lydia.” He repeated the same for the younger girl.
“I am afraid we must away as we must join our mother when she visits our sister who is ill at another estate,” Lydia huffed. She would have much rather remained in the exceedingly handsome Mr. Wickham’s presence.
The two Bennets reluctantly took their leave and started their walk back to Longbourn.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
“Lizzy, take your younger sisters to the drawing room and wait for me there,” Fanny Bennet instructed when she visited her daughter at Netherfield Park. “Tell me how your plans are proceeding,” she asked Jane as soon as the door was closed.
“I will compromise Mr. Darcy tonight. For some reason, I have not been able to turn his head, so this is the only way,” Jane informed her mother.
“You are a good girl, Jane. You took my lessons to heart,” Fanny praised her favourite. “You will be married to a man as rich as Croesus and Lizzy will marry that horrid Collins man.”
“Is he really that bad?” Jane asked.
“I have never had my sense of smell so assaulted before. He boasted he only bathes once a fortnight!” Fanny reported. “Miss Lizzy cannot expect better.”
Jane felt a momentary prick of conscience, which she dismissed as soon as it occurred, as she knew an extremely wealthy man wanted Lizzy. She did not tell her mother of Mr. Darcy’s interest in her younger sister.
She loved that her mother would do anything to help her, but she knew if she informed her mother about Mr. Darcy’s obsession with Lizzy, she would be unable to keep such a secret. Mother and daughter left the suite and made their way to the drawing room.
When they entered Fanny saw what Jane meant. Mr. Darcy did not so much as lift his head to look at Jane. Fanny could not fathom how it was he could ignore one as beautiful as her Jane.
“Mr. Bingley, now that Jane is better you can set a date for your ball,” Lydia demanded rudely.
“I dare say you are correct, Miss Lydia. As far as I know Cook will have enough white soup prepared by Thursday, so what say you to the ball being Friday?” Bingley proposed.
“How wonderful,” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed as she clapped her hands. Her reaction was one that would have been expected from her daughter.
“Kitty, we will dance with all of the officers,” Lydia gushed and Kitty nodded.
Elizabeth could not understand why Jane did not look as mortified as she must feel. Trust her family to show the hateful Mr. Darcy their bad behaviour once again. Elizabeth burned with shame and hoped her mother and younger sisters would depart for Longbourn soon.
Jane knew Mr. Bingley was holding a ball in her honour—in her mind it would become her betrothal ball. After she compromised Mr. Darcy tonight, she would be his betrothed.
Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief when her mother and younger sisters departed. She was about to leave the drawing room when Miss Bingley decided it was time to speak.
“Miss Bennet, Miss Eliza, how proud you must be of your mother and sisters,” Miss Bingley sneered. “I am sure such decorum would be welcomed in our circles.”
“What circles would those be, Miss Bingley?” Darcy asked innocently. He abhorred the vulgar display by the departed Bennets as well but would not allow Miss Bingley to make false claims about her position in society.
Miss Bingley turned almost purple. Without another word, she made an unceremonious exit from the drawing room. Her world had been turned upside down. She was sure Mr. Darcy would agree with her, but instead he alluded to her being the daughter of a tradesman yet again.
How could he not see she would be the perfect wife for him? She must convince her brother to reinstate her as Netherfield’s mistress, as it was imperative that she present herself in the best possible light to her Mr. Darcy.
An hour later, Miss Bingley knocked on the door of her brother’s study. Normally, she would have barged in without an invitation to enter but she did not want to anger him—he might refuse to restore her position as mistress.
Her brother used to be so pliant and easily led. Now he was displaying a spine and resolve she had never seen before. It was one more thing that confused Miss Bingley; her frustration due to being unable to manipulate him as she used to do was great.
“Enter,” Bingley called from within. “What can I do for you, Caroline?”
“Charles, I have learnt my lesson; it is time to reinstate me as your hostess,” Miss Bingley asserted as she sat in front of her brother’s oak desk.
“And what lesson is it you have learnt, Sister?” Bingley asked pointedly.
Miss Bingley sat opposite her brother, her mouth moving but made no sound. Rather than prompt her, Bingley sat back in his chair and waited while his sister spluttered and looked around as if the answer would come to her out of thin air.
“You must restore me to my position! How else is Mr. Darcy to see what an excellent hostess I am?” Miss Bingley finally screeched.
“Are you utterly senseless? Were you not sitting in this room—in that chair—when Darcy and I told you he had no interest in you? I am warning you now, if you persist with this delusion you will ruin yourself and I will not lift a finger to save you. You have been warned more than once now,” Bingley stated sternly.
“If you cannot control yourself, I will send you to Aunt Hildebrand in Scarborough!”
Miss Bingley’s first inclination was to argue the point with her brother.
However, she saw the steely look in his eyes.
She would have to change her tactics and be more subtle, because she believed her brother serious and being sent to their spinster aunt was not part of her plans.
Without another word, Miss Bingley stood and left the study without slamming the door.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
As she had planned, not too long after the men joined the ladies in the drawing room, Jane claimed fatigue.
“No, Lizzy, you remain here. I need to sleep, so when you return just go to your bedchamber. You know how lightly I sleep.” Jane used the same lie which had gotten her sister moved to the small bedchamber at Longbourn.
“I need a good night’s sleep before we return home on the morrow. ”
“If that is what you prefer, then I will remain and not disturb you,” Elizabeth returned as she squeezed her sister’s hand.
Miss Bingley, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, felt joy at the intelligence the Bennets were to return home on the morrow. Finally, the country mushrooms would leave the house.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Jane changed into her revealing nightgown and a robe. Her slippered feet padded softly down the corridor until she found Mr. Darcy’s door and slipped in as quietly as she could. She removed her robe and climbed into the bed to await her prey.
She failed to notice Mr. Darcy’s valet, Carstens, just inside his master’s dressing room watching her compromise attempt with amusement.