Chapter 8
Breakfast Parlor
Longbourn
“I hope, my dear wife,” said Mr. Bennet, “that you have ordered a good dinner today, because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party.”
Elizabeth, who had been relishing a quiet breakfast with her family, aimed a startled and slightly suspicious look at her father. His tone was one which seemed calculated to either outrage or bewilder Mrs. Bennet, who was not nearly as intelligent as her husband.
“Who do you mean, my dear?” Mrs. Bennet demanded. “I know of nobody who is coming, I am sure, unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in. And I hope my dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home.”
“The person of whom I speak is a gentleman and a stranger,” Mr. Bennet said.
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes lit up, and she turned toward her eldest daughter. “A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr. Bingley, I am sure. Why, Jane, you never dropped a word of this, you sly thing! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley.”
“It is not Mr. Bingley,” said her husband. “It is a person whom I have never seen in the whole course of my life.”
Elizabeth was astonished at this last statement, as were her sisters and mother.
Strangers were quite rare in this area of England, and Longbourn had been blessed with not only the Netherfield Party, but a host of officers, all in a few short weeks.
And now, another unknown man was coming to dinner?
“Who is it, Father?” Mary asked, and Mr. Bennet, after enjoying another minute’s delay, finally explained, “About a month ago, I received this letter, and about a fortnight ago, I answered it; for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases.”
“Oh, my dear,” cried his wife. “I cannot bear to hear that mentioned. Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing in the world, that your estate should be entailed away from your own children; and I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago to do something or other about it.”
Elizabeth exchanged glances with Jane, but neither bothered to try to explain the matter to their mother. She simply could not conceive of a system wherein daughters were excluded in favor of distant male cousins. Indeed, Elizabeth rather agreed with her mother, but the law was the law.
“It certainly is a most iniquitous affair,” said Mr. Bennet, “and nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn. But if you will listen to his letter, you may, perhaps, be a little softened by his manner of expressing himself.”
“No, that I am sure I shall not, and I think it was very impertinent of him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such false friends. Why could he not keep on quarreling with you, as his father did before him?”
“Let me read you the letter,” Mr. Bennet said, pulling out a paper from his pocket and holding it up to the light.
Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent
15th October
Dear Sir,
The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honored father always gave me much uneasiness, and since I have had the misfortune to lose him, I have frequently wished to heal the breach, but I have been busy with my education these last years.
I was ordained at Easter and was fortunate enough to be awarded a living in Kent under the patronage of Lady Catherine de Bourgh of the nearby estate of Rosings.
Lady Catherine has kindly given me permission to make the acquaintance of yourself and your family, and if you should have no objection to receive me into your house, I propose myself the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, Monday, 18th November, by four o’clock, and shall probably trespass on your hospitality till the Saturday sennight following.
I remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, your well-wisher and friend,
William Collins
“At four o’clock, therefore, we may expect this peace-making gentleman,” said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter.
“He seems to be a most conscientious and polite young man, upon my word; and, I doubt not, will prove a valuable acquaintance, especially if Lady Catherine should be so indulgent as to let him come to us again.”
Mrs. Bennet wrinkled her nose and said, if reluctantly, “It is a courteous letter, at least.”
“Indeed,” Mr. Bennet said smoothly.
Elizabeth lifted her cup of coffee and took a sip.
She did not mind Mr. Collins visiting. Indeed, she was rather pleased because she enjoyed meeting new people.
However, she was profoundly annoyed at her father for waiting so long to announce the visit.
It seemed, for the moment at least, that Mrs. Bennet’s volatile personality had landed on the side of accepting their guest with equanimity, but what if she had not?
What if she raved and shrieked and howled?
The truth, Elizabeth thought sadly, was that Mr. Bennet would have preferred that response. The master of Longbourn had married Frances Gardiner, daughter of a local solicitor, because she was lively and handsome and, in her youth, good-humored.
Her beauty had faded in the last decades, though she was still reasonably pretty.
Her good humor had dissipated entirely within two years of Lydia’s birth, when she had come to the horrified realization that she would never birth a son, and thus Longbourn would be lost to her and her daughters when Mr. Bennet died.
It was indeed a difficult circumstance, and one which weighed on Elizabeth at least a little, in spite of her optimistic view of the world. When Mr. Bennet died, the ladies of Longbourn would be cast out with very little financial support.
She stole another glance at her father, who was leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look on his face, though his breathing was a trifle quick. She knew that Mr. Bennet grew tired easily, but he was not so very unhealthy, surely.
He would live for at least a decade, and in any case, Mr. Bingley seemed genuinely in love with Jane, and they would likely marry.
She shook off a twinge of unease and drank down the rest of her coffee. All would be well.
***
Longbourn
Four O’clock in the afternoon
The door to the drawing room swung open, and Mr. Collins straightened and followed the Bennets’ butler into the room.
“Mr. Collins,” the butler announced and withdrew.
Mr. Collins cast a hasty glance around the room.
The five young ladies ranged from pretty to incredibly beautiful, and Mrs. Bennet, while middle-aged, was still attractive.
Mr. Bennet was thin and a trifle pale, but in appearance, reasonably good-looking.
Indeed, the entire family was far more attractive physically than Mr. Collins himself, whose face was undeniably plain.
Fortunately, the good Lord did not care about a man’s outward appearance.
The ladies and Mr. Bennet rose to their feet, and the latter said, “Mr. Collins, I am Mr. Bennet. May I please introduce you to my wife, Mrs. Bennet, and my daughters, Jane, Elizabeth, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia. Wife, daughters, Mr. Collins, heir to the estate.”
Collins suppressed a frown at this rider, and said, “Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, Cousins, it is a pleasure to meet you at last.”
“Mr. Collins,” the older woman said with a smile, “it is an honor to meet you as well. Please do sit down and enjoy some conversation.”
He waited until his relations had taken their seats and then walked over to the available chair closest to the fireplace, which happened to be next to the eldest Miss Bennet. It had been a rather chilly ride in the gig coming from Meryton, and the fire was welcome.
“I hope you enjoyed your trip from Kent, Mr. Collins?” the eldest Miss Bennet inquired in a gentle tone.
“I did, thank you,” he replied with a nervous bob of his head.
Now that he was closer to his cousin Jane, he could see that she was genuinely one of the most handsome women he had ever seen in his life.
He was not used to being in the company of truly beautiful ladies. It made him feel awkward and uncertain.
“It seems you had a good day for traveling,” Miss Elizabeth said with a glance outside. “It is far more pleasant when one’s journey takes place with clear skies.”
“Yes, I am grateful. We had some rain yesterday in Kent but not enough to overly muddy the roads.”
Again, silence fell save for the soft whispers of the two youngest Misses Bennet, who seemed to have lost interest in their guest. Mr. Collins looked around in hopes of finding something to talk about, but to speak of furniture or the proportions of the room could be construed as rude given that he would one day be master of the estate.
His eyes fell on a book sitting on a nearby table.
“I see you have Lyrical Ballads, by Coleridge and Wadsworth,” he said, “I thought it was very good.”
Mr. Bennet, seated a few feet away, brightened noticeably. “Yes, indeed, especially the Rime of the Ancient Mariner.”
Miss Elizabeth shivered slightly. “It is a powerful poem, though grim.”
“He prayeth best, who loveth best. All things both great and small. For the dear God who loveth us, He made and loveth all.” Mr. Collins recited, earning a pleased glance from his male cousin.
“I am happy that you are a reader, Mr. Collins,” Mr. Bennet said. “Would you care to visit my library before dinner?”
“I would very much, thank you,” Collins replied.
***
Drawing Room
Netherfield Hall
Before Dinner
Caroline suppressed a shiver and leaned a little closer to the fire.
She had no doubt that she looked beautiful in a green silk gown that made her eyes and complexion glow and set off her carefully coiffured curls to perfection, but it could not be said that she was in any danger of becoming overly warm.
Indeed, the glories of her gown were partially hidden by her shawl, but since she had excellent taste in shawls, this was no great matter.
This one had cost fifty pounds, but was worth every pence.
A gust of wind blustering past the house rattled the windows in their panes, and Caroline cast the loose glass a single baleful look.
She would be glad to return to a house that had sufficiently tight windows.
It was all of a piece, however, and she had greater matters on her mind this evening.
She disposed herself gracefully in her chair and waited for the rest of the party to select their own seats.
“Brother, I wish to install an archery setup here at Netherfield,” she announced.
Charles had been seated on a chair near the fire, gazing somnolently at the flames, but this provoked him to look up with genuine bewilderment. “Archery?”
Caroline smiled, her gaze on Mr. Darcy, who was seated in the corner of the room writing a letter. “Yes, Brother. I have been thinking that I would benefit from more exercise, and archery is such a fine sport, is it not?”
Charles frowned and turned to look at Louisa, who said cheerfully, “I would like to try it out too. Surely you have no objection?”
“Objection? No, of course not, but it is undoubtedly too cold for such exercise?”
“Out of doors, perhaps,” Caroline said smoothly, “but I understand that there is an old stable about a quarter mile from the house, which is not much in use. I was thinking that we could set up a target there, and we could practice within its walls until it grows warmer.”
Charles turned a confused look on Mr. Darcy who was, to Caroline’s immense pleasure, now openly listening to the conversation.
“Darcy? Do you know anything about archery?”
“I do,” Mr. Darcy said, his eyes now fixed on Caroline’s face. “I dabbled with it before I went to Cambridge, but have not made time for it in years. It is, as Miss Bingley said, good exercise, while also enjoyable.”
“Well, then, we will arrange for it,” Charles said, turning a beaming look on his sister.
“Thank you,” Caroline remarked placidly, leaning back in her chair. Inwardly, she could not help but exult at the unexpected success of her suggestion. Not only would she engage in ladylike activity, it was quite likely that Mr. Darcy would join her!