Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
Elizabeth took her breakfast while reviewing the day’s concerns, wishing one matter already resolved.
Lydia and Kitty had already finished and gone upstairs for their French lessons.
Lydia had surprised them all by applying herself to her lessons with unexpected eagerness.
Kitty, however, showed more talent for drawing than languages.
Mrs. Tayler continued to encourage her, assuring her that improvement would come with practice.
The rest of the family remained at the table enjoying their breakfast when Mr. Collins entered.
He lingered in the doorway for several moments; his gaze fixed upon Miss Elizabeth.
“Miss Elizabeth, I wonder if I might speak with you.”
Elizabeth suppressed a sigh, more from confirmation than from surprise, and nodded politely.
“Of course. We may speak in my writing room.” She stood and began to leave the room, pausing when she encountered Mrs. Hill.
“Please send Millie to my sitting room.” She met Mrs. Hill’s eye, then glanced briefly toward Mr. Collins.
Mrs. Hill nodded. “Yes, Miss Elizabeth, right away.”
Elizabeth walked slowly toward her sitting room, partly to give Millie time to arrive and partly to delay the inevitable.
Millie reached the room at nearly the same moment as Elizabeth and Mr. Collins.
Elizabeth gestured toward a chair just outside the door.
Millie nodded and took her seat. Elizabeth then entered the writing room with Mr. Collins close behind her.
She left the door open wide enough that Millie remained in clear view.
Elizabeth seated herself at her writing desk, facing Mr. Collins, and gestured for him to take a chair.
Mr. Collins remained standing. He glanced once toward the maid seated outside the door before beginning his speech.
“I have determined that it is my duty to lessen the misfortune your family must otherwise suffer by marrying one of my cousins. My patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, has long held the opinion that a clergyman ought to be married, and that such a union must reflect credit upon his situation…”
Elizabeth could hear Mr. Collins continuing to speak about what Lady Catherine felt to be the proper conduct of a clergyman’s wife, though she struggled to understand how any of it was particularly relevant to the present conversation.
She waited patiently for a pause so that she might give her answer, but such an opportunity did not appear to be a priority for Mr. Collins.
At last, it seemed he was approaching his conclusion. “So now, dear cousin, I may say that I am the happiest of men.”
Elizabeth rose. “Mr. Collins. I thank you for the honor of your proposal. However, I do not believe we should suit. I am therefore sorry, but my answer is no.”
Mr. Collins stared at her in astonishment. “But you must accept me.”
Elizabeth regarded him calmly. “And why is that, sir?”
He looked at her as though she had spoken nonsense. “Because I am to inherit. In that way you will have a home.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Mr. Collins, that is very considerate of you, and I appreciate that you wish to lessen the effects of the entail. Pray allow me to reassure you. We shall be quite well.” She came around the desk and began gently guiding him toward the door.
“Thank you for your attention, Mr. Collins.”
You will reconsider. I am certain you will…”
Mr. Collins stepped out into the hall. Elizabeth closed the door quietly behind him. He remained there for several moments, staring at the closed door, before at last turning away in visible confusion.
***
Mr. Bennet had only just opened the first volume of Robertson’s History of the Reign of the Emperor Charles V. Having at last finished Gibbon’s account of the fall of the Roman Empire, he had resolved to turn his attention to emperors who had managed to keep their thrones for a respectable period.
He had not progressed beyond the opening pages when the door of the library opened, and Mr. Collins entered with an air of great agitation. Mr. Bennet looked up from the page. “My dear cousin, I trust nothing has occurred that threatens the stability of the Holy Roman Empire.”
Mr. Collins blinked at him. “No, sir, though I fear the matter which brings me to you is of considerable consequence.”
Mr. Bennet closed the book with deliberate calm. “Indeed. Pray sit down and enlighten me.”
Mr. Collins took a deep breath. “I have just come from speaking with your daughter. I asked her to marry me, and she said no.”
Mr. Bennet nodded thoughtfully. “I see. May I ask which daughter? I have five, you know.”
Mr. Collins looked at him as though he had spoken a foreign language. “I asked Miss Elizabeth.”
“Ah. Well, that explains it.” Mr. Bennet regarded him mildly. “Is that all, sir?”
Mr. Collins stared at him and shook his head. “No, no, you do not understand. She must marry me. It is entirely proper that she should.”
“Well now we come to the point. Miss Elizabeth declined your proposal, and you wished her to accept. Have I understood you correctly?”
Mr. Collins nodded eagerly. “Exactly. You must make her change her mind and marry me.”
Mr. Bennet leaned back in his chair. “Now here is where the difficulty lies. You may not be aware, but in this country, a lady is at liberty to refuse.” Mr. Bennet spread his hands slightly. “I see your difficulty, but I do not see how it may be remedied.”
Mr. Collins leaned forward anxiously. “You do not understand. I want you to tell her she must marry me.”
Mr. Bennet shook his head. “I am afraid that will not do, sir. I value my peace far too much to disturb it over a matter that is so clearly decided.” Mr. Bennet rose. “But you must not despair. There are many young ladies in the neighbourhood who would be very happy to oblige you.”
"But you do not comprehend, my situation, Lady Catherine…”
He escorted Mr. Collins to the door and gently closed it behind him.
“Now then. Charles V.” Mr. Bennet returned to his chair, opened the book again, and resumed reading.
***
Mr. Bennet looked up from his book and noticed Elizabeth sitting on a bench in the garden. He smiled, thinking it pleasant that she allowed herself a moment’s rest, and turned the page.
Some movement outside the window caused him to glance up again. A soldier in a scarlet coat stood gesturing with his hands toward Miss Elizabeth. Mr. Bennet watched the scene with interest, finding it for the moment more engaging than Charles V.
The soldier did not appear pleased; his gestures had lost all ease. Whatever he was saying to Elizabeth did not seem to impress her in the least. She remained seated, listening with calm composure. Suddenly she rose, said something in reply, and turned to leave.
The soldier seized her wrist.
For one instant, Mr. Bennet did not move.
His expression hardened. He was on his feet at once and threw open the door.
“Mr. Hill. Get Harris to the garden. West side of the house. At once!” Mr. Bennet glanced back toward the window.
The soldier was still holding Elizabeth’s wrist. He strode to the window and struck the glass sharply with his fist.
The soldier started in alarm. Elizabeth wrenched her wrist free and ran toward the front of the house.
Harris, the groom, ran past her and seized the man, twisting his arm behind his back. “Sir,” Harris said sharply.
Two other grooms hurried forward to assist.
Mr. Bennet left the book-room and made his way outside. As he stepped out, the grooms were already bringing the man toward him.
Harris nodded. “We have him, sir.”
Mr. Bennet approached the struggling man, who was still attempting to pull free, though the grooms held him firmly. “Who are you,” Mr. Bennet said coolly, “and by what right do you lay hands upon my daughter?”
“Lieutenant Wickham. Let me go. I was only speaking to her.”
“You seized her.”
“No. I was only attempting to speak with her.”
Mr. Bennet turned to Harris. “Go to Colonel Foster. Request that he bring several men to retrieve this officer.”
Harris nodded and ran off.
Mr. Bennet looked to the other two grooms. “Take him to the coal shed for the present. Keep him there until his commanding officer arrives.”
“Yes, sir.”
The grooms dragged Wickham away.
“You will answer for this,” Wickham shouted. He twisted around as they dragged him away, casting Mr. Bennet a look of pure hatred.
Mr. Bennet watched until they disappeared from sight, then turned and returned to the house with composed deliberation.
Colonel Foster came in due course, and the officer was returned to his command.
***
The moon shone through the window of the book-room.
After a moment, something moved in the darkness.
A candle was set upon the side table.
There was faint muttering as a drawer slid open, then shut again. Another drawer opened. Papers shifted inside.
More muttering. "Money…”
The drawer slammed shut. Several books were pulled from the shelf and dropped carelessly onto the floor.
“Where is it?”
Footsteps paced back and forth across the room.
Then the candle struck the rug. For a moment, nothing stirred. Then a spark caught in the woven fibers.
Footsteps hurried toward the door.
The door opened and closed quietly.
Behind it, a thin flame began to creep along the rug.
***
Elizabeth woke at the sound of shouting. She sat up and listened. Then she heard it.
“Fire!”
She jumped up, grabbed her slippers and robe, and rushed into the hallway. The smoke was already stronger there. “Fire!” she shouted, throwing open doors as she ran. “Jane, wake up. The house is on fire. “Get Mary and go out immediately. Now. Hurry!”
She ran down the corridor, opening doors. “Fire! Everyone down the stairs and out the front!” She nearly collided with Mrs. Hill. “Get the servants upstairs out and have them meet out front. Quickly!”
Elizabeth rushed to her father’s room and flung open the door. “Father, wake up. Fire. We must leave now!” She pulled him from the bed and pushed him toward the stairs. The smoke was growing thicker.
She ran next to her mother’s room. “Mother. Fire. Get up!”
Mrs. Bennet cried out in alarm.
“Hurry!” Elizabeth urged, pulling her along. “Down the stairs. Out the front.” She rushed down the steps, holding her mother’s hand.
At last, they reached the front lawn. Servants were gathering there in confusion.
Elizabeth forced herself to focus. She began to count. Father. Mother. Jane. Mary. Kitty. Lydia. Mrs. Tyler.
All were accounted for.
She took a deep breath and turned to Mr. Hill. “Send a groom to Lucas Lodge and Netherfield. Ask for anyone they can spare to help fight the fire.”
“Yes, Miss.”
“Then gather every bucket you can find. Start filling them from the well and bring them to the house.”
Mr. Hill hurried off.
Elizabeth saw Jane standing beside their still-weeping mother. “Jane, please take Mama to the stables and stay with her.”
Jane nodded and gently led Mrs. Bennet away.
Elizabeth spotted Mary. “Mary, we must form a bucket line from the well to the house. Can you begin organizing the servants?”
Mary nodded at once and ran to the gathering servants, urging them to begin filling buckets.
She turned back to Mr. and Mrs. Hill. “Are all the servants accounted for?”
“Yes, miss,” Mr. Hill replied. “All of them are out.”
“Thank goodness.” She took another breath. “All the men, throw water on the fire. The women carry the empty buckets back and return with full ones. Quickly!”
They both nodded and ran.
Kitty and Lydia stood nearby, clinging to one another. Elizabeth hurried toward them. “Come with me. We are on bucket duty.”
They followed her to the well, where several servants were already filling buckets.
She pointed. “Take a full bucket to the men, then bring the empty ones back. Go!” Elizabeth grabbed two buckets and hurried toward the house.
Elizabeth saw her father standing near the flames, staring at the burning building.
“Father,” she said urgently, “can you help with the buckets?”
He looked at her for a moment, as though seeing her clearly for the first time, then nodded. He took one of the buckets from her hands and ran toward the men fighting the fire.
Elizabeth handed off the other bucket, grabbed two empties, and ran back to the well. After that she did not think about anything except the work.
Fill buckets.
Carry them to the house.
Return with the empties.
Again, and again.
She did not know how long she had been working when someone suddenly stopped her.
Mr. Darcy stood before her. “My God, Elizabeth. Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, though tears filled her eyes. “Longbourn,” she whispered.
He nodded grimly. “Here. Let me take those.” He took the buckets from her hands and ran toward the house to join the other men.
Elizabeth watched him for a moment, then turned back for more buckets.
More people were arriving now. Men and servants from both Netherfield and Lucas Lodge joined the fight against the flames.
During one trip back to the well, she noticed Mr. Collins sitting beneath a tree, well away from the house.
Unmoving and untouched by the urgency. She had no time to consider it.
Suddenly a cheer rose from the men near the house. The fire had been contained.
Elizabeth stood looking at the house, still holding a bucket.
The shouting had stopped. The flames were gone. Only smoke drifted into the night air. Suddenly the bucket felt too heavy in her hands.
Darcy came quietly beside her and took it from her grasp. “Miss Elizabeth.”
She did not answer.
He took her hand gently. “Miss Elizabeth. Look at me.”
She lifted her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
He inclined his head. “Bingley has offered to house everyone at Netherfield tonight.”
Elizabeth glanced across the lawn and saw Mr. Bingley speaking gently with Jane.
Darcy guided Elizabeth toward one of the waiting carriages.
She stopped suddenly. “The servants. They must be…”
“They will all be brought to Netherfield as well,” Darcy said reassuringly. “We will sort everything out in the morning.” He helped her into the carriage.
Inside she saw her father, mother, Jane, Mary, Kitty, Lydia and Mrs. Tyler, already seated.
Darcy closed the door, mounted his horse, and followed the carriage back to Netherfield.