Chapter III
Christmas was a time of peace on earth and goodwill toward men, or so the Holy Bible said.
With the ubiquitous presence of a courting Mr. Collins in residence, there was no peace, and the goodwill Elizabeth felt was dying by the moment, becoming a desiccated husk of resentment.
While the Gardiners came three days before Christmas and Mr. Collins had only come two days before that, it already seemed like the oaf had been there for months instead of days.
While Elizabeth fought to control her temper, trying through subtle means to inform him of her disinterest, nothing less than hitting him over his thick head with a tree branch would get his attention.
Even directness did nothing, for the man was intent upon his purpose and convinced of its rightness—nothing she said to him made any difference.
“Of course,” said he in his pompous tones on the occasion when Elizabeth finally snapped at him, “you shall see all this yourself. When you see it, I am certain you will agree that there is no estate to compare with Rosings Park in all the land. Furthermore, you shall find the parsonage is in every way suited to you, for Lady Catherine, in all her condescension, has made it the perfect abode for any parson and his wife.”
“Mr. Collins!” growled Elizabeth, her patience shattering. “Though I had not expected you to forget our recent history, it seems I must remind you. When you last proposed, what was the result?”
“Oh, I remember it very well,” said the parson, the waving of his hand as ineffectual as everything else about him was. “I shall remind you that I am by no means unaware of the behavior of elegant females.”
“And yet, I refused you, and my father supported me. When you left, I understood you comprehended my feelings and would not further press the matter.”
“Ah, but then I learned better,” said Mr. Collins, his glance at Mrs. Bennet informing Elizabeth all she needed to know about her suspicions of mother’s role in his return.
“No, you did not learn better!” Elizabeth glared at him with all the frustration she felt flowing over, seeping into her words, which were not as temperate as they should have been.
“You merely returned to your doomed pursuit of me. Can you not accept that you do not interest me? Why must you continue to ruin my Christmas?”
“Lizzy! You shall apologize to Mr. Collins at once!”
“I do not wish to hear anything from you, mother!” spat Elizabeth. “Be silent—then we may all have a little rationality in our lives.”
The gasp of more than one person in the room informed Elizabeth she had gone too far, but she was beyond caring at that point. Mrs. Bennet appealed to her husband with a look, but given his returning expression, she should have expected it. Unfortunately, none of this affected Mr. Collins.
“You may as well treat your mother with respect,” said Mr. Collins, “for I am convinced that once you are accustomed to me, you will understand there is no choice but to accept my offer.”
“That is correct, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Bennet. “No other possibility exists.”
“Oh?” asked Elizabeth, quirking an eyebrow at her mother. She rose, still fixing her with a baleful glare. “Another possibility does, indeed, exist, Mama. I may retreat to my room so that I need not endure a single more minute of this farce!”
Then Elizabeth stalked from the room, ignoring her mother’s demands for her to return. When she arrived at her bedchamber, Elizabeth closed the door and turned the key in the lock, determined to stay there for the rest of the day, even if she must go to bed hungry!
“I see what you mean, Madeleine,” said Edward Gardiner as Elizabeth left the room.
All about them was chaos, for his silly sister ranted and stormed, promising to go to Elizabeth’s bedchamber and return her to the sitting-room by force, while Mr. Collins blathered on about how universally charming Elizabeth was.
How anyone could deem a woman charming after such a set down was beyond Gardiner’s understanding.
Then again, Collins was beyond his understanding, for he never would have thought such a ridiculous man could exist.
“If you had paid attention when we arrived, you would have seen it for yourself,” groused his wife, her expression informing him how cross she was.
Gardiner shrugged, knowing there was no arguing with her. “What do you suggest?”
“We must act to keep Mr. Collins from Elizabeth as much as we can.” She huffed with disgust. “Mr. Collins may accidentally compromise her in his eagerness if the threat of his constant words on the subject does not lead to an expectation of marriage in the community.”
“Or my sister may come upon the idea herself,” said Gardiner, eyeing his sister.
“Oh, do not say such things!”
“It does no good to ignore the possibility,” replied Gardiner with a shrug.
“No, but you should not speak where she might overhear. I cannot imagine she would reject the notion, given the state she is in.”
“The question is,” said Gardiner to move the subject along, “how we can exert any control over the situation.”
Madeleine drew her bottom lip into her mouth, an affectation indicating deep thought. It was an adorable mannerism and one that had often inflamed his passions, even after fifteen years of marriage.
“It would seem to me that interference is the best option,” said Madeleine after a moment.
Gardiner winced at his wife. “That, you know, will mean distracting his attention. I must endure his effusions.”
“Perhaps you will,” said his wife, unconcerned. “Remember that it is in the service of a most beloved niece, and I am certain you will endure it.”
“Very well,” said Gardiner, setting his shoulders as if to go into battle. A battle it would be, though the foe was not a fierce adversary; rather, he was a fool, almost certain to push Gardiner to the edge of his sanity. But he would not shirk.
Had those at Netherfield Park left Darcy to his own devices, he would have gone mad considering the problem of Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Collins. How she could accept Collins was a matter beyond his understanding.
Darcy thought had had some knowledge of the Bennets’ situation.
It was not an unusual one, after all, nothing more than an entailed estate with little money to be had for the widow and her daughters when the master left this mortal existence.
The confusing part was that Miss Elizabeth had already rejected him, a decision some might call foolish, but Darcy viewed as sensible, given the man who had proposed.
And yet, somehow, the foolish man had returned, and she had accepted him.
It upset Darcy’s understanding of Miss Elizabeth.
For a time, he wondered if he should depart from Netherfield before Christmas.
There was still time to join his family if he hurried.
But though he continued to keep any notion of his fascination for her at arms’ length, Darcy could not make himself depart.
The mere thought of such a bright woman as Miss Elizabeth Bennet tied to the buffoonish Collins filled him with loathing.
Not everyone at Netherfield agreed with him. Bingley was, of course, far too focused on Miss Bennet to say much on the subject, and Darcy did not think Hurst or his wife cared three figs for whether Miss Elizabeth married Mr. Collins. The same was not true of Miss Bingley.
“How fortunate it is that Mr. Collins returned!” exclaimed she the morning after the party at Lucas Lodge. “Why, I declare it is a most eligible match and one beyond anything such a woman could hope to attain!”
“Eh, what’s that?” asked Bingley, proving he had not been so lost in his contemplations as Darcy had supposed. “Why do you suppose Miss Elizabeth cannot aspire to anyone better than her father’s foolish cousin?”
“She has no dowry!” was Miss Bingley’s pointed comment to her brother.
“Their family has no connections of any value to anyone. If you were not so intent upon lifting her sister to a higher sphere, I dare say none of them would ever provoke any man of any consequence in the world to pay them even the slightest heed.”
Bingley, far from being offended—as Darcy thought was Miss Bingley’s intent—shook his head. “Far be it for me to argue who will raise whom through a marriage between us. I must inform you I have no notion that he will ever prevail upon Miss Elizabeth to accept him.”
Miss Bingley pushed her pique concerning her brother’s actions toward Miss Bennet aside in favor of her glee.
“Then you are not watching closely enough, Brother. Given Mr. Collins’s peculiar brand of obliviousness mixed with eagerness, I dare say she is already a hair’s breadth from having no choice at all in the matter.
I, for one, cannot wait to hear the announcement, for I believe it is only her due. ”
A sly look at Darcy and Miss Bingley added: “Perhaps Mr. Collins will admire her fine eyes while he is performing their marriage duties. I find the image a pleasing one, indeed.”
As Miss Bingley looked away, she saw nothing of Darcy’s icy glare of disdain; then again, she was so delusional about her perceived desirability that she might not have recognized it.
The notion that Miss Elizabeth deserved the ministrations of a dullard because she had the temerity to attract Darcy’s attention was quintessentially Miss Bingley.
Darcy had never been more disgusted with her than he was at that moment.