Chapter 14
The reverend Mr. Yarby took his time removing his vestments following Sunday’s service. He was loath to return to his home as he was expecting a visitor—and not one for whom he had much fondness.
He was still puzzled over the short, terse note that had been delivered to him earlier in the week. Mr. Collins had written that he must speak with him that very Sunday on a “matter most urgent.” What could he mean?
When Mr. Collins arrived, Ellen ushered him into the small library where he took his seat across from Mr. Yarby.
No tea was offered as Yarby was hoping the duration of the visit would be short, and he did not wish to prolong it with cordialities he did not wholeheartedly feel.
Amelia had given him a rather surprised look when he told her specifically not to order tea or invite Mr. Collins to stay for supper, but she only nodded in agreement.
Now, Yarby took a deep breath and began. “Your message appeared very businesslike, Mr. Collins, so I urge you to bring forth your matter at once. What is most urgent that you required this meeting?”
Mr. Collins declined to answer directly, asking instead, “Is your sister, Mrs. Withers, around the parsonage at present?”
“No. She is taking a walk, I believe. Despite the chilly autumn weather, she has become most devoted to her regular perambulations.”
“And…does she walk alone today?”
Why does Mr. Collins’s voice sound so smug?
Yarby wondered. He gave a tight smile. “I have no idea and I cannot see what bearing it may have on anything you have to discuss. Please get to the point if you will, Mr. Collins, I have work to do.” Mr. Yarby knew he was being a bit testy, but his guest was truly beginning to vex him.
“In fact, good sir, the company your sister keeps is precisely the reason I am here.” Mr. Collins replied.
Utterly confused, Yarby waited a moment for further explanation. When none was forthcoming, he was forced to ask, “Whom do you mean, Mr. Collins? I know she has become good friends with Mary Bennet. But I cannot see how that is an issue of any possible controversy.”
“It is a Bennet to whom I refer, Mr. Yarby, although not the Bennet you may be thinking of.” Yarby saw a smile spread across Mr. Collins’s doughy, but animated, face.
“I see I must explain. Well. I happened to be strolling around the countryside the other day and saw your sister also enjoying the out-of-doors—with Mr. Bennet as her companion. As I observed them, it became clear to me they now have a very…intimate relationship.”
Mr. Yarby was so stunned, he could make no response. Leaning back in his chair and folding his hands across his ample stomach, Mr. Collins gave a satisfied chuckle.
“You are unaware of their friendship; I can tell from your countenance,” he continued.
“Of course, they are both widowed at this point, so that is not shocking, although because Mrs. Withers is your sister, any such connection to your current employer is certain to raise eyebrows. But what is unacceptable by any definition of decorum is the quickness with which this relationship has…flourished. Mr. Bennet is still in full mourning. And for him to be traipsing around the neighborhood with her—so ostentatiously, so indiscreetly—will certainly damage both her and your reputations.”
Yarby struggled for a response to this shocking news. “I…I did not know—are you quite certain it was them?”
“Indeed. I watched them for some time. Thinking themselves alone, they did not attempt to hide their affection. At one point, she even lifted his hand to her cheek! To her cheek, sir!”
Yarby tried to think of a way to end this distasteful conversation. He stood. “Well. I shall speak to my sister and ask that she be more careful. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”
“I fear that will not be sufficient, Mr. Yarby.”
There was a long pause as a wave of dread washed over the rector. He slowly returned to his seat.
“No?” he asked softly. “What else is there?”
“Naturally, you will chastise your sister and insist that she check her behavior, but the matter cannot be so easily hushed up.”
“I fail to understand your meaning.” Mr. Yarby did, in fact, begin to see where this was leading, but he was hoping against hope that he was mistaken.
“I dislike having to resort to this, but I think, in order to assure yourself that word of this scandalous relationship does not escape into town, we must come to…an agreement.”
Mr. Yarby let out a long breath. It was as he feared: Mr. Collins was blackmailing him. But for what?
“If you…that is…I cannot pay you for your silence if that is your meaning.”
There was a pause as Mr. Collins stared at him with a satisfied little smile on his face.
Mr. Yarby felt his temper begin to rise. “And if you expect me to vacate the position so that you may take it, be assured that I would then report your attempted extortion to Mr. Bennet myself!”
Mr. Collins gave a dry chuckle. “Now, now…things need not escalate to such an extent. Mr. Bennet has hired you, and only he or the bishop can fire you. And sadly, although I am his cousin, there is no guarantee that, should you depart, I would be given the living.”
“Then what are you asking?”
Mr. Collins crossed his legs and leaned forward, speaking in a low, urgent voice.
“Despite all efforts, I have been unable to secure a position in a new parish. I feel I must bring in something to support my family. Living at the mercy of Sir William Lucas has been quite difficult for me. So. What I am proposing is this: you will take me on as your ‘curate’—really more an equal partner than curate—but call it what you will. You can say you feel the need of a more experienced hand to guide you in your first parish. You will pay me sixty pounds a year and allow me two sermons a month as my own. In exchange, on the sad day when Mr. Bennet passes and I become the owner of Longbourn, I shall keep you on. In addition, I shall keep the secret of your sister’s attachment to Mr. Bennet.
But if you refuse my terms, all your sister has done will be revealed.
Dare you risk the scorn of your flock or the wrath of your bishop?
Most likely, you will be dismissed on moral grounds.
But even if you survive, I assure you that when I take charge of Longbourn estate, I will not only dismiss you, but I will so tarnish your reputation that you will essentially never work as a clergyman again.
” He sat back, clearly waiting for a response.
Mr. Yarby’s head was whirling. His position at Longbourn parish—so secure, so happy—was all at tremendous risk.
If he refused Mr. Collins’s demands, Amelia’s reputation—and by association, his own—would be badly damaged.
If he agreed and took on Mr. Collins, he would not only have to survive on little more than he was paid when he was a curate but also work closely with a man whose very presence irritated him beyond measure.
But what could he do? Perhaps he could send Amelia away for a time.
No, that would never work. Where could she go, at any rate?
Their older brother did not own a home but took rooms in a respectable lodging house, so Amelia could not join him there.
And they had no other family. Plus, there would be no guarantee that Mr. Collins would not sully her reputation just for spite.
He took a shaky breath and let it out slowly.
“Very well. I agree to your terms.”