Chapter 20
Elizabeth
“Something has occurred at Longbourn,” Elizabeth explained to William. “But it is not a problem for you and me.”
William seemed to breathe easier and said, “Well, whatever it is, if it troubles you, I would wish to hear it, and attempt to relieve you.”
“A man arrived at Longbourn today, an unexpected and uninvited guest. His name is William Collins, and he is a distant cousin, a parson, and—more to the point—the heir presumptive of Longbourn.”
“And he came uninvited? Today, of all days?”
“Apparently he sent a letter to my father, but my father never bothered to open it.” Elizabeth sighed and sent him a glance in which she tried to convey, silently, You know what my father is like.
He squeezed her hand to signal that he did, indeed, understand.
“In that letter, he invited himself to Longbourn, apparently supposing that he had every right to inspect his future estate whenever he wished. Since he did not hear back from Papa, he came on the day suggested in the unopened letter. Today.”
“Does Longbourn have a room for him?”
“We sisters have shifted around to free up a room. Since Mr Collins arrived at three, we did not have much time before coming to Netherfield, but we managed.”
“Well, that is all quite aggravating, especially for your poor mother and you and your sisters. However, I sense that your concern is based on something more?”
William knew her so well, and he looked so perturbed, that she felt as if her heart might dissolve in tenderness.
She said, “In his letter, which I unearthed from a pile of unopened correspondence on my father’s desk, Mr Collins went on and on about how he wishes to extend an olive branch to my family, he wishes to apologise for the injury the entailment bestows on us, and he is determined to make amends.
And I believe…he thinks the way to do so is to marry one of the Bennets. ”
“Oh!” William was clearly surprised.
“And I am so grateful that you exist, William, because after I read the letter, I opened the door to re-enter the parlour, and at that very moment Mr Collins said ‘And my noble patroness asked me to make amends to your family,’ and he looked straight at me.”
William looked horrified.
Elizabeth hastened to continue: “I was going to protest, but my father spoke first, explaining that I will be married tomorrow. So then he looked about and spied Jane, who had been cleverly hiding behind Lydia, and he ended up sitting next to and speaking with Jane until we went upstairs to help free up a room for the man.”
William looked thoughtful. “What is this Collins fellow like?” he asked.
“Horrible! He somehow combines being entirely too obsequious with being just as extravagantly smug.”
“That sounds extremely unpleasant.”
“He is sweaty and unattractive, and he slurped his tea and devoured so many biscuits and cakes, it was as if he had not eaten in weeks.”
“Bingley did a great deal of devouring as if he had been starved, as I recall.”
“Well, I clearly should have paid more attention to that as a tip about his rapacious tendencies.”
William shuddered and said, “I apologise. I should not have brought up that miscreant.”
“No, it was appropriate that you did so, because I admit that Bingley being handsome and well mannered in the easily observable ways—for example, not slurping his tea—meant that I gave him a pass on how devoted he always seemed to be to eating every scrap of available food.”
Squeezing her hand, William said, “I gather you are worried that Jane will feel she has to marry this parson in order to save Longbourn for your mother and other sisters?”
“That is exactly what I am worried about. But Mr Collins is such a foolish man that I could not bear to be with him for even a few minutes; I am certain that not even Jane could put up with the man for a lifetime.”
“Your father may live for two more decades. Does this Mr Collins have a living? Can he even afford to marry?”
“Yes. A lady has awarded him a parsonage, and he refers to her as his noble patroness but acts as if she is infallible, as if she was God. And he claims that this grand benefactress has ordered him to choose a wife among my sisters!”
“Well, since we are leaving tomorrow after the wedding breakfast, perhaps you should share your anxieties with Jane tonight, here at Netherfield. You could be overheard by Collins himself, or by your parents or one of your sisters, if you try to tell her at Longbourn, and that might make things very uncomfortable.”
“I suppose you are correct.”
“Remind Jane that I have made formal and legal arrangements to care for your mother and sisters, including her, if and when they lose Longbourn. Nobody need marry this parson in order to save the family.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I will sequester Jane away from everyone else after dinner. Do you suppose I might use Mr Bingley’s study? By which, of course, I mean your study?”
“Yes. I will speak to Carter about it now.” William hurried to do so before the dinner call was made.
Elizabeth joined the others, but she spared some sympathetic thoughts for her mother, who had been working so long to create her idea of the perfect wedding breakfast. To bear with the sudden appearance of the man who would one day take over her home would likely be disturbing.
Obviously, Mr Collins would be invited to the wedding breakfast, as well.
It was not enough, Elizabeth thought bitterly, that she had to worry about her mother being crass about money, Lydia being outrageous about men, Mary being preachy about dancing, and her father being sardonic about absolutely everything; now she had to worry about a foolishly obsequious and ridiculously smug cousin!
She would just have to decide not to care what her friends thought about her family.
That was easier said than done.
No matter what, tomorrow would soon be here, and she would finally, finally marry her absurdly handsome, entirely-too-rich, surprisingly shy, endearingly principled William.