Chapter III
‘The arrangement of the dinner service shows a fine taste, Lady Lucas, and may I admire your tablecloth? Is it cotton?’
Lady Lucas looked at her future son-in-law and fixed a smile on her face. ‘It is linen, sir. But I thank you for your attentions. It is a fine design.’
‘Fine indeed. I have always thought that simple floral patterns suit a house best, unless it is a very large, grand house, which may support a more complex aesthetic.’
Lady Lucas looked down at her meal, hiding a raised eyebrow. Attempting not to sound pointed, she asked, ‘You have a particular interest in the decorations of a house, sir? You speak about it often.’
‘I do, madam. I confess, I was something of an artist in my youth, and while I was never allowed to pursue it as a pastime, I retain a certain vigour of opinion about artistic matters, and I do believe one’s house is a canvas, if one so chooses it to be.’
Lady Lucas, who was a naturally generous and diplomatic host, tired of Collins’s conversations.
He had called on her daughter most days this past week, for tea or dinner or a walk in the grounds.
She consoled herself with the thought that those visits would soon cease, but then, remembering that the conclusion of them would bring about the loss of her daughter’s company, she frowned and glanced at Charlotte.
Her cool, calm expression, the patience in her eyes – she had learnt that from her mother.
Charlotte would have this man, this conversation, every day for the rest of her life.
No, only for the rest of his life, Lady Lucas reminded herself, this rather dark thought giving her hope.
After dinner, Charlotte and Mr Collins sat close to one another in a corner of the drawing room, while the rest of the Lucas family occupied themselves nearer the fire.
Mr Collins wore the black suit he always wore, constantly a little crumpled, the white neckcloth always tied too loosely and dropping at the neck, Charlotte observed.
She wore a pretty but simple cream dress, with long sleeves and a surplice neckline.
It looked well on her, suited her frame, and she felt it was a choice which must suit the present company, being modest but not drab.
Mr Collins, Charlotte noted, was quieter when they were alone than when in company.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, then thought better of it. Then, a moment later: ‘I hope I did not offend your mother by mentioning larger houses earlier.’
‘I assure you, you did not. She is not so easily wounded, and she is proud enough of Lucas Lodge to welcome any comparison.’
Mr Collins smiled tightly, and another pause ensued.
After a time, he continued, ‘I sometimes find that in my attempts to keep conversation flowing, I speak more words than I intend to, and they wander farther off from my object than I wish. My intention is to appear confident, and I hope I achieve it. I would not be much of a prospective husband if I were to show nerves in the face of a simple dinner party.’
Charlotte looked at him, but his eyes were cast down. ‘You feel nervous in company?’
‘Well, I do, a little. But I have learnt to fight against that. I work hard at self-improvement.’
‘You need not fight against your nature with me, sir. I would rather you were as you wish to be, or rather, as you need to be?’
‘I am thankful, Charlotte, for those kind words, but I cannot give in to it. I believe nervousness – shyness even – is not a welcome trait in a man. And is certainly not suited to my profession. My father, God rest his soul, was not a man who approved of weakness, in body or mind; he thought it rather self-indulgent, and I half-agree with him. I do not believe that God intends us to navigate through life with the bare bones we are born with, but to use the tools he has given us to learn new things, new behaviours. I have learnt to talk even when I do not know what to say. But I am not always… completely happy with what I say.’
Charlotte considered this, reeling slightly at how much he had revealed about himself. ‘Was your father… a kind man?’
‘No,’ Mr Collins replied instantly. Then, as if to soften his response, ‘Not kind in his manner, day to day, but he meant to do well by me. He was godly, albeit with a preference for the teachings of the Old Testament than the Gospels.’ Collins glanced at her, to see if she understood his meaning. She did.
‘Punishment for wrongdoing? Rather than turning the other cheek?’
He hesitated. ‘Y-yes.’
Charlotte reached over and put her hand on his.
He was shocked and looked up at her. ‘I offer an alternative view: I have always believed that strength can be shown quietly. A commanding presence can be one who says less but understands more. When I feel nervous in company, I find strength in watching and listening to others. It arms me with information, and it calms me. And it offers the opportunity to examine the needs of others rather than focusing on oneself – which is the Christian way, is it not?’
Mr Collins was looking at her, enraptured. ‘You are wise, Charlotte. I knew this from the start, but you prove it further every time we meet. I am grateful for you.’
Charlotte gently squeezed his hand and smiled.
Had he been misjudged? Or judged on only his worst behaviour?
She felt a little hope seep in, for the future life they might have together.
She was enlivened and said boldly, ‘I know you invited me to name the day for our wedding, Mr Collins, and I have tarried. I will do so now: 9th January, if it pleases you. Let us begin our married life as soon as we may.’
‘A fine date, Miss Lucas – Past the duties of Christmas and the frivolities of Twelfth Night. I approve it heartily.’ He looked around the room contentedly, his eyes resting on the Lucas family, seemingly having a merry time playing a card game. ‘Charlotte, may I ask you a question?’
Charlotte realised that he had not asked her anything about herself yet during his visits and welcomed this correction. He was certainly improving.
‘By all means.’
‘Do you think your family would like me to offer them a reading from Ephesians? They appear to have run out of activity and I know Maria in particular enjoys to hear the scripture.’
Charlotte looked down to hide her expression, which betrayed her. ‘That is thoughtful of you, Mr Collins, but I think their minds are in no state to receive it. I believe they will be preoccupied with whist until they retire.’
Mr Collins considered this, not entirely convinced by the response.
‘It is no trouble, if that is your concern, if you think I would be nervous performing, given what I was saying a moment ago. Reading the word of God is no chore for me; I do not choose the words, and its goal is not to entertain but to guide.’
‘It may be no trouble for you to read, sir, but it can be a trouble for some to hear. A few moralising passages from the Bible may put a sour taste in the mouth of someone torn from their gambling.’ Charlotte said this lightly, with a grin, relaxing enough in Mr Collins’s company to be more herself in conversation.
But his face had darkened. ‘I am sorry to hear of this malady in your family, Miss Lucas. You may well imagine that I do not approve of cards taking precedence over piety. If this is true, I will hope to be a much-needed influence on your family while I can. I try not to be evangelical in my beliefs, but where there is need, I will rise to the task.’
He looked truly aggrieved. Her face fell sombre, and she looked over at her family, laughing around the card table.
Her father was mock-outraged at his wife’s mode of play, and Maria was in hysterics at the face he was making.
Charlotte felt a physical pull to be with them, to be in that circle, merry and light-hearted.
She looked at Mr Collins, who was also observing her family.
He viewed them with interest and concern and a little puzzlement.
If one came across a set of badgers in the wild, one might watch them in a similar way.
He was very unfamiliar with their behaviour; he did not understand it, and somehow, he felt it potentially posed something of a threat to him.
He was right. His wife-to-be was thinking of what she might miss in her future with him.
Would she, in her family life, get the pleasure of a light-hearted game of cards?
Would the opportunity to laugh be very frequent?
She thought not, for in his response she realised that, while he might have moments of reason, Collins had absolutely no humour at all; and that was a severe limit on one’s personality, she had always found. He would never be in on the joke.
‘I am sure that, at the right time, you will be an excellent influence on them, Mr Collins.’
Mr Collins warmed to this. ‘Please, call me William.’
Charlotte immediately and instinctively felt that she didn’t want to. Not a good sign, she thought, smiling at him.