Chapter 3
Chapter Three
COLLINS
As Collins crammed himself into the Bennet family carriage, which already seemed quite full with the mother and four daughters, he asked, “How will Mr Bennet and the lovely bride fit?”
But even as he said those words, a footman smartly closed the carriage door, and after another moment, the vehicle began to move. Collins watched as another, smaller carriage pulled up to the front steps of the manor, and he sat back with a contented sigh. “Oh! You keep two carriages.”
Right then and there, Collins decided that, when he was master of Longbourn, and when he had sired a family, he too would have two carriages.
The youngest Bennet said, a bit too loudly and perhaps too boldly, as well, “That is not our carriage; it belongs to the Evans family.”
Collins was surprised, but he thought hard and then remembered being introduced to a Miss Evans and her aunt, two of the many guests at Longbourn.
He saw another, larger carriage approach from the stable area, and he asked, “Is that…?” He let his pointing finger indicate the that in his dangling question.
Miss Bennet—the beauteous Jane—spoke up in her calm, genteel way. “That belongs to the Gardiners, my aunt and uncle and their children. They live in London but came for the wedding.”
Collins nodded—that family accounted for the other guest rooms being full before he had arrived. But….
“Where is the bride, then?” he asked. “And her father?”
Mrs Bennet answered this time, her voice quite squeaky with excitement: “The groom sent a brand new carriage for them to be transported to the church. He is very wealthy, you know.”
Miss Elizabeth Bennet was beautiful, of course, but a wealthy man marrying her seemed surprising. The Bennet family themselves were respectable, but their estate was said to be only modest in size. The manor house was quite nice, of course, but also somewhat worn and not the least bit opulent.
When Collins thought of “very wealthy,” he thought of a huge estate and a very grand manor house. Indeed, he thought of Rosings, the home of his noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
To think of his cousin Elizabeth, as lovely as she was, marrying someone as resplendent as Lady Catherine…
although, of course, two ladies could not marry, plus Lady Catherine was much too old for Elizabeth, so he supposed that he meant that the idea of his cousin marrying someone as majestic as the son of Lady Catherine…
although, again, that was quite wrong, because Lady Catherine had no sons.
Instead, she had one daughter, the extremely prepossessing Miss Anne de Bourgh.
So…he arranged his muddled thoughts, and he came up with an apt comparison: Lady Catherine had nephews who were, he had heard, young men.
One was—he struggled to remember the names of the men he had yet to meet—oh, yes!
One was Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, and the other was Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Therefore, what he had meant all along was that the very idea of his cousin, Elizabeth Bennet, marrying someone as patrician as Fitzwilliam Darcy was absolutely absurd.
He thus concluded that Mrs Bennet’s words “very wealthy” were either an accidental exaggeration or a shameful boast. He smirked at his own clever analysis of the matter, and as the carriage stopped just then, having reached the church, he alighted feeling very self-satisfied.
Of course, he could not help but notice a brand new carriage already standing in the church yard.
It was truly elegant looking, the bottle green exterior decorated with a coat of arms that looked—he had to admit—very distinguished.
The pair of horses standing in their equipage were perfectly matched in size and colour, and the coachman wore very fine looking livery of bottle green accented with silver.
Could it be that Mrs Bennet had not exaggerated?
Mrs Bennet appeared at Collins’s elbow. “I have no issue with you wishing to court and marry one of my daughters, Mr Collins. No, indeed, I wish you well in your attempt. That said, I do believe that our family is safe with my Lizzy marrying such a wealthy man! Even if Mr Bennet should die tomorrow and we lose Longbourn just a fortnight from now, the son I gain today will not allow me to end up in the hedgerows; he will provide for me and any of my girls who have not yet married. We have his promise written up proper, signed and dated and everything!” She nodded her head, a small smile looking far more confident than boastful, and she turned and hastened into the church.
Collins followed her slowly. He felt distinctly cheated, somehow. He would still inherit Longbourn, of course, and he might still marry one of the lovely Bennet ladies—but his future heroic role was apparently already filled by whoever it was who was marrying Miss Elizabeth that day.
He would have loved to become somebody’s hero.
Oh, well. He supposed that life would still be quite pleasant, even if nobody ever treated him as their saviour. A nervous thought rose up—without the whole saving-the-entire-family drama, would any of the Bennet girls agree to marry him?
Disliking to feel poorly about himself, Collins decided to reorder his thoughts. Ah, yes! he realised. My cousin becoming the wife of a man of fortune is quite a coup! Lady Catherine will certainly be impressed!
Feeling happy again, Collins entered the small church and found the Bennet pew. He somehow managed to wedge himself into it, ready to watch his cousin marry a very wealthy man.