Chapter 27
Fanny Bennet could not comprehend how everything had gone so wrong. Why had God forsaken her and saved the evil one while she, who was doing His work, was shackled to the bed of a cart? When the cart arrived at its destination, the insane woman had not a clue where she had been taken.
Luckily for Fanny, her brother was paying for her housing in the private part of Bedlam, so she would reside in relative comfort. It was to Fanny’s advantage that she was so far detached from reality she had no idea what was happening to her.
She was taken by two maids to be bathed, as she was filthy and her odour would have made her son-in-law Collins proud.
After they thoroughly scrubbed her and cut her hair short—it was badly damaged from weeks of neglect—Fanny was dressed in a thick white robe and taken to the room which would be her home for the rest of her days.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Bingley arrived at Netherfield Park before the midday meal on the day he told Darcy he would arrive. He was welcomed by a couple he had never met, as well as by Darcy and Miss Elizabeth, or Miss Gardiner to be correct.
He was introduced to the master and mistress of the estate by Darcy.
“Miss Gardiner, I am so pleased to see you looking so well and happy,” Bingley stated as he bowed over Elizabeth’s hand.
“Darce, I am glad to see you looking well also, and not dour. Miss Gardiner has been a good influence on you.”
“It is good to see you again, Mr. Bingley, even if for this visit to Netherfield Park, our roles are reversed,” Elizabeth stated in welcome.
“How could I not be joyful when I will soon be married to this wonderful woman?” Darcy stated.
“Mr. Gardiner, I thank you for your timely purchase of this estate; it relieved me of the cost of the balance of my one-year lease,” Bingley said as he shook Gardiner’s hand.
“Please call me Gardiner, and you are most welcome. Let us proceed inside.” Gardiner and his wife led the group into the drawing room.
Bingley was already acquainted with everyone in the drawing room, or so he thought. He was amazed to see how open and outgoing Miss Darcy was. The last time he had seen her she was so shy one could barely hear her monosyllable answers—when one could be coaxed from her.
He was shocked when he saw the two youngest Bennets sitting and talking quietly to Miss Maria. There was no giggling, flirtation, or boisterous behaviour. For a moment he did not recognise the lady seated next to the youngest Bennet sisters. He wondered if he had been introduced to her in the past.
She had colouring similar to Miss Gardiner’s, and as he drew nearer, he could see that her eyes were hazel.
When he approached even closer, he noticed there were flecks of green and gold in her hazel eyes.
She was pretty, nothing like his old ideal of willowy blonds and blue eyes, but there was something intriguing about her.
“That is my sister Mary, Miss Bennet,” Elizabeth told Bingley quietly as she watched him try to puzzle out the identity of the young lady. “She used to wear glasses and her hair was always styled in a severe bun. Her gowns used to be of a much darker colour.”
As Miss Gardiner spoke, Bingley remembered the way Miss Bennet used to look in his mind’s eye.
Looking at her now, he could not believe the young lady’s transformation.
If she was open to it, he was interested in becoming better acquainted with her—but no more than that.
He had learnt it must take more than looks to engage his interest in a lady.
“Miss Bennet, do you mind if I sit here,” Bingley indicated the open seat next to the lady.
“I have no objection, Mr. Bingley. You are a guest in our home so you are free to sit where you please,” Mary replied displaying her dry wit.
“If I am ignorant, Miss Bennet, I beg your pardon, but did you say our home?” Bingley enquired.
Mary explained how she and Kitty were now wards of the Gardiners, and that the youngest, Lydia, was now Miss Phillips, a ward of their other aunt and uncle. “You have not asked about my parents, Mr. Bingley,” Mary challenged.
“And you have not asked about my sisters,” Bingley returned. “If you wish to tell me what led to all of you leaving Longbourn, I would be interested in hearing it, but I will not force a confidence if you are not ready to share.”
“There is no need for me to ask about Miss Bingley because Lizzy related the ‘Miss Hampton-Downs’ incident to us. William shared the news your sister is on her way to the Americas,” Mary informed Bingley.
“I believe that we were fortunate she was in the middle of the ocean when the announcement of Lizzy and William’s betrothal was printed. ”
“A very astute observation, Miss Bennet,” Bingley grinned. “It matches my reaction when I read the papers the other day.”
“You know about my former mother and older sister engineering Lizzy’s banishment from Longbourn do you not?” Mary verified.
“Yes, I do,” Bingley replied softly.
“What you do not know is Lizzy was well liked by the people of Meryton. When it became known Mrs. Bennet had disowned Lizzy and banished her from our family, the rest of us were ostracised in local society. She tried and failed to bring Lizzy home to Longbourn.” Mary related the facts evenly.
“My eldest sister, who by all accounts has made significant changes to her character, was sacrificed for Mrs. Bennet’s future comfort.
It seems she descended into madness and is now a resident of Bedlam’s private wing.
I would rather you hear this from me than in the form of idle gossip in Meryton.
Her final act of insanity was attempting to harm Lizzy, but she never came close to succeeding. ”
“It pleases me Miss Bennet, excuse me, Mrs. Collins, has amended her ways. I was shocked when I heard the truth of her character, as it used to be, from Darcy,” Bingley replied. “Do you hear from her?”
“Since she moved to the parsonage at Hunsford my sisters and I have not had a letter. Other than one to Mrs. Bennet, who replied to her without sympathy or kindness, nothing further has been heard from her, until Aunt Elaine and Uncle Reggie told us of the changes she has made,” Mary explained.
Seeing Mr. Bingley did not recognise the names, Mary clarified, “The Earl and Countess of Matlock.”
Bingley was entranced by Miss Bennet’s dry wit and intelligence. Had he still been the shallow man he was on his first visit to the neighbourhood; he would not have given this enthralling woman a second glance. On the spur of the moment, he decided to take a chance.
“Miss Bennet, are you engaged to dance the first at the pre-wedding ball?” Bingley asked hopefully.
“No Sir, I am not,” Mary replied, blushing lightly.
“If that be the case, may I engage you for the first two dances?”
“They are yours, Mr. Bingley.”
“If you do not think me too forward, could I reserve the supper set as well?” Bingley requested.
“Yes, you may,” Mary averred, her blush deepening significantly.
When Lizzy, Tiffany, Giana, and Kitty convinced her to do away with her glasses—which she admitted she did not really need—and then restyled her hair, Mary had gone along with them to please them.
When they suggested different colours and styles of dresses for her, she had allowed herself to be convinced again.
When they were finished and she was dressed in a pale pink muslin day dress, her hair arranged attractively, Mary almost had not recognised her reflection in the mirror. Over the weeks since she had adopted these changes, Mary’s confidence had grown significantly.
So, when Mr. Bingley showed an interest in her, she was surprised such a handsome man would pay her attention, but not as much as she would have prior to building her self-confidence and changing her appearance.
Elizabeth and Darcy sat with Charlotte and Richard, watching the scene opposite them unfold. “It seems Bingley has matured over the last few months,” Richard observed.
“So it would seem,” Darcy agreed.
“They have just now started to talk to one another,” Elizabeth pointed out. “I trust you two will not tease him about his interest in our Mary.”
Both men promptly dropped their plans to do just that; neither wanted to deal with an angry Elizabeth. Richard looked at his fiancée and saw her warning look, letting him know she agreed with her friend.
Lord Matlock approached the four with a letter in hand. “It seems that Mrs. Collins' changes were genuine. I have just received this letter from Anne,” Lord Reggie stated as he handed the missive to Darcy. He held it so Elizabeth could read it as well.
14 February 1811
Rosings Park, Kent
My dear Aunt and Uncle,
My friend Jane, Mrs. Collins, consigned the page with the announcement of William’s betrothal to her former sister, Miss Gardiner, to the fire just in case it was one of the days her husband read the newspaper.
We both would have been interested in seeing Mother’s eruption when she heard the news, but I agreed with Jane that Mother would have travelled directly to Hertfordshire to express her disapproval most vociferously.
Neither of us thought any of you deserved to have your peace shattered to that extent.
On the subject of the worst rector in the Church of England, Mr. Collins, the Bishop’s men have interviewed both Jane and me. Although she knows how materially she would be affected were he to be defrocked, Jane was forthright about his contravention of canon law.
When I spoke to the two clergymen, I confirmed the man was appointed AFTER my birthday, when Rosings Park became mine by law; therefore, it seems his appointment is not valid. They have additional investigations to complete here before they report to the Bishop in a sennight.
My request to them was if there is action to be taken against Mr. Collins, and I cannot see how there will not be, they do nothing until all of you arrive here in March.
Please let my cousin-to-be know her former sister wants nothing more than to apologise for her past wrongs, but she believes she will never see Miss Gardiner again. I have not told her that Miss Gardiner, or possibly by then, Mrs. Darcy, will be part of the party which is coming to Rosings Park.
I look forward to seeing you all when we have removed my mother from her self-anointed throne.
With best regards to all of the family, and to my soon-to-be family,
Anne
“Do you intend to see Mrs. Collins when we are at Rosings Park, Elizabeth?” Darcy enquired.
“What kind of Christian would I be to deny her a chance to apologise?” Elizabeth asked, rhetorically. “Everything I have heard indicates a true change to Jane’s character. I would be a hypocrite if I only considered who she used to be and not who she is today.”
“Remember, you will be my wife by then and I will support you whatever you decide,” Darcy stated as he took his betrothed’s hand into his own and interlaced his fingers with hers.
Elizabeth was hopeful the Jane she would find in Hunsford would be closer to the person with whom she had believed she had grown up. She did not know what kind of relationship, she would have with Jane Collins in the future, but she was certain there would no longer be animosity between them.
By the time they retired to their bedchambers, both Mary and Bingley believed they had the basis for a warm friendship.
With the attention Mr. Bingley paid her, Mary was able to expunge the last vestige of Mrs. Bennet’s voice in her mind telling her she was too plain to ever attract the attention of a man.
As Mary fell asleep, Mrs. Bennet was expelled from the consciousness of the last daughter who recalled, sporadically, the nasty and degrading words the woman used to direct towards her.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Mr. Collins was in his study working on the latest masterpiece his exalted patroness had written for him to deliver from the pulpit on Sunday.
It was a warning about how the wrath of God would be swift to those who did not respect and obey their betters.
The sermon went on to detail how it was the duty of those of lesser rank to answer any questions an exalted personage or her emissary asked of them.
He heard a knock on the door but thought nothing of it until his housekeeper informed the master of the house that he had guests. Collins entered the drawing room, his patroness’s wisdom in his hand still, as he was unable to put down her brilliant sermon.
“We are two pilgrims touring churches in Kent,” the one man stated by way of introduction. “Part of our pilgrimage is to interview the honoured parsons in each parish and see how they execute their duties to promote the church and God.”
Collins puffed up and preened at being so honoured by these poor uneducated men, who wanted to learn from him. “Is that your sermon for this Sunday?” the other pilgrim asked.
“It is. It could not have been better had I written it myself,” Collins replied proudly.
“Do you take your sermons from one of the many books of sermons, as many other clergymen do?” one of the pilgrims asked.
“No, my exalted patroness writes them for me,” Collins preened even more than he had before. “It is my honour to be a vessel to deliver her wise words to my parishioners.”
“As we will not be here on Sunday to hear her wisdom, would you object if we read it before we leave?” Collins handed it over without hesitation, happy to have his patroness’ words so honoured by those who would not have the privilege of hearing him deliver the sermon on Sunday.
Although they schooled their features, the two men were appalled by what they read. One of them handed the offending paper back to Mr. Collins. It seemed the sycophant before them placed his patroness above the church, and worse, over God Himself.
All it took were a few probing questions for Collins to admit, proudly, how he shared his parishioners’ confidences with his magnificent benefactress. When one of the men asked if doing so contravened church law, they were both astounded by his reply.
“If it were someone of lesser rank asking me, I would not oblige them, but as Lady Catherine is a peer of the realm, I am authorised by my Lord Bishop of Kent himself to honour anything the great Lady Catherine asks of me.” Collins added the part about the Bishop to impress the simple men before him.
He did impress them, but not in the way he intended. The men soon departed. They would honour Miss de Bourgh’s request with regard to timing, but they were now certain the man needed to be defrocked. Or worse, excommunicated for heresy.