Vol 1, Chapter 7
Mr. William Collins arrived promptly at four in the afternoon on the day that he had said he would, which happened to be a Sunday. He was a corpulent man, to put it gently, of medium height. From his odour, he obviously did not consider personal hygiene a priority.
Trying hard to keep a straight face, Bennet stated, “Welcome Mr. Collins. I am surprised that as a member of the clergy you travel on the Sabbath.” He had not noted anything about the day in his return letter to the now spluttering man to see if he would realise his error on his own; it was apparent he had not.
“A-as I am a clergyman and my patroness gave me leave to travel, I have done nothing wrong,” Collins blustered.
“Besides travelling on the Sabbath,” observed Esther, who was the most pious member of the family.
“Young girls should be silent until their betters address them,” Collins glared in an attempt to be intimidating, but only looked all the more ridiculous.
“Mr. Collins!” Bennet fired out angrily. “How dare you address one of my daughters so? If you ever show any disrespect to a member of my family or household while you are a guest under my roof, you will be thrown out and never be permitted to return. Do I make myself clear!”
“Y-yes, C-c-cousin,” the now frightened and profusely sweating man replied.
“In that case, this is my family, all except my son and heir Tom who is at Oxford. Mrs. Bennet, Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Esther, and Master Mark,” Bennet made the introductions curtly.
“I suggest that you retire to your chambers and enjoy the bath that will be ready for you. When you have changed, have someone direct you to my study.”
With some of the lowest bows any of the Bennets had ever beheld, the sweating man followed Hill inside, much to relief of the Bennets’ noses. “Thomas, that is most definitely the most ridiculous man I have ever had the misfortune to meet,” Mrs. Bennet verbalised what they were all thinking.
“Mama, was that stink emanating from our cousin?” Mark asked, pulling a face.
“It was, my son, but it is not polite to mention such to him,” his amused mother responded.
“Well, it is not polite to assault our noses in that fashion,” Elizabeth pointed out and no one argued with her.
As Collins followed the butler to his chambers, he could not comprehend the inside of the house that he was seeing.
To Collins, the front of the manor house looked much smaller than Rosings Park, quite insignificant, but that was not the case on the inside.
He could not reconcile what he was seeing with the facade that he had noted on his arrival.
‘I have to marry the oldest so all of this will be mine,’ he told himself. ‘I do not care what any piece of paper says, a Collins will be master here!’
After climbing up three flights, he was shown to a large bedchamber, more than double the size of his in the parsonage at Hunsford. “Is this the family wing?” Collins asked, hoping that he would be close to the three prettiest young ladies he had ever beheld, most specifically the oldest.
“No, Mr. Collins, this is a guest floor,” Mr. Hill replied evenly. “Is there anything else before I leave you?”
“I am family, I demand to be moved to the family wing!” Collins blustered, most put out.
“After your bath, you are free to take that up with the master when you meet with him.” Hill bowed and left before the indignant parson could utter another word.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
“It is so good to be on the way back to our estate my love,” Lady Rose told her husband as the two sat in the most well-sprung and comfortable of the Bedford coaches.
The Duke had managed to complete his review of his holdings in Liverpool the previous day and had agreed to leave at dawn.
He was happy to be on his way to Longfield Meadows.
The Duke loved his home estate and took pleasure in its management.
He had not owned such to his wife, but he was experiencing more tiredness and shortness of breath.
He knew if he informed her, she would want to nurse him, but he wanted what he suspected would be his final Christmastide at the estate to be a happy one.
“You know Rose, I have been thinking much on the third Duke and how terrible he was. Could you imagine us, or any other we know, sowing discord and division among his own sons as the fourth Duke related in his letter?” the Duke asked.
“It is hard to conceive of one such as he,” the Duchess responded thoughtfully. “It just shows that there is justice in the world, Sed, even if we are not here to see it.”
“What do you mean, love?”
“After all of that man’s efforts, it is his pride which will defy his intentions.
With all the conflict he caused within his own family, if he were alive today, he would see the direct descendant of the son he cast out assume the title knowing it is the Bennet line that will be the saviour of the Dukedom in the end.
I am certain his heart would explode,” the Duchess explained.
“How did his pride save the Dukedom?” He asked, chuckling as the question spawned the answer. “Oh, he did not formally disown Thomas, which makes his line eligible to inherit the Bedford title and all that goes with it! You are correct, love; his improper pride did have one positive result.”
“Did you say that you will not insist Thomas Bennet change his name to be the eighth Sedgwick Rhys-Davies?” the Duchess confirmed.
“That is correct, Rose. I will instead insist that he keep his name as it is. You talk of justice across the years; I can think of no more righteous thing than for the original Tom Bennet’s name to be the one that carries the Dukedom forward!
” the Duke stated with no equivocation, his grin proving his pleasure of defying his ancestor and redressing the unnecessary cruelty.
“I do not know how I will carry on without you, Sed,” the Duchess allowed her fear of losing the love of her life to come to the fore, and tears began to run down her face.
They, like all of the Dukes before her husband, had an arranged match.
Unlike many of the others, the two had fallen in love over the years, and except for the inability to bring a live child into the world, they were the happiest and most loving of couples.
“Please promise me something, Rose.” The Duke wiped the tears away and then took his wife’s hands in his, gazing lovingly into her eyes.
“If it is within my ability to do so, you know I would do anything that you ask of me,” the maudlin Duchess replied.
“Do not sit and pine for me after I am gone.” The Duke placed his finger on his wife’s lips when he saw she was about to interject.
“From birth, I have been prepared to take over the House of Bedford. I was trained and prepared for any eventuality as a duke. Thomas Bennet will only learn of this on the day that we meet with him. We have no idea who his wife is and if she will be able to take on the weight of the duties required of a duchess. The only thing that will give them a chance to succeed is if you, my dearest wife who I love more than anyone, are there to assist and guide them.”
The Duchess was silent for some minutes as she cogitated over what her husband was asking of her and soon realised that there was no choice.
She would accept her husband’s charge and carry on without him the best she could, all the while trying to make sure the new Duke and Duchess were successful, for it was possible they had no connections of note.
Rather than giving up, Lady Rose would have a purpose and a whole set of tasks many would consider overwhelming.
“You have my most solemn promise that I will help them as much and for as long as they desire it, Sed,” the Duchess agreed.
Her husband relaxed, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
He regretted not opening the letter years before, but there was nothing he could do to change the past.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Collins knocked on the study door. His determination to secure the delectable Miss Bennet had only increased on his way down to the study as he saw more of the house, for even he could see that the Bennets were obviously far wealthier than was reported.
Once he was seated, Bennet did not wait for any pleasantries. “From your letter, did I understand that your olive branch will be to marry one of my daughters?” Bennet asked pointedly.
As he so often did, Collins completely missed the tone his cousin was using and expected that his task to secure his bride would be much easier now, as everyone was of the same mind.
“Once I marry Miss Bennet, when the sad time comes that you leave to your eternal reward, I will be the next master of the estate and will even allow your wife and unmarried daughters to remain here, as long as they are willing to take on some of the chores, of course,” Collins offered munificently, oblivious to the growing anger in his cousin opposite him.
“Are you completely insensible? Mayhap your brain is addled. You will never be granted the hand of any of my daughters!” Bennet angrily held up a hand to silence before the indignant man could protest. “If you think that even with a compromise, I will give you one of my daughters, then you are more stupid that even I believed you to be. Any attempt at such will result in my calling you out! I warn you now, I am a champion with both the sword and the pistol, and no matter how small of a target is it, I will not miss your heart!”
Collins was quaking with fear. Even with his selective hearing, he could not misconstrue what his cousin was telling him. “B-b-but I-I a-am a-a cl-cl-clergyman with the p-patronage of the g-great and w-wise L-Lady C-C-Catherine d-de B-B-Bourgh,” the petrified parson managed to squeak out.