9. Chapter Nine
After Sunday service following Mary and Elizabeth’s return, the Bennet family gathered for a light repast in the dining room. Conversation was pleasant, centering mostly on Trenton’s homecoming in a few short weeks and wondering if he’d grown any taller since his last visit home. As it was, he already towered over Papa. Not surprising as height was almost a prerequisite trait on the Fitzwilliam side of the family.
During a lull in the conversation, Papa reached out and took Mary’s hand in his. She was seated to his left.
“I am glad you are come home and feeling better.”
“Thank you, Papa. I admit to having a bit of a headache, but Hill has the perfect balms and tinctures for me and I am certain in a few days I shall be perfectly well.”
“That is good because tomorrow we have an unexpected guest arriving.”
Mamma looked up from her plate, her eyes widening.
“A guest? I have no rooms prepared for a guest.”
“I am as surprised as you. I received this letter yesterday and in all the excitement of Mary coming home, I forgot to tell you.” Papa gave his wife a tender smile. “Will you forgive me, my dear?”
“Who is this mysterious gentleman?” Elizabeth asked.
“My cousin, Mr. Collins, who is the heir presumptive of Longbourn.”
“Coming to count the silverware, no doubt,” Lydia said with a huff.
At their mother’s startled gasp, Papa gave his youngest daughter a stern look.
“Do not upset your mother, Lydia. I am looking forward to knowing this young man. His letter is… well, I do not know how to explain, other than to say his letter is quite expressive.” Papa reached into his waistcoat and drew out the folded missive. “Let me share some of it so you are better prepared for his… erm… excessive regard for long sentences and his patroness.”
“He has a patroness?” Mamma asked.
“Yes, my dear. Allow me to elucidate his character further by reading to you.”
Papa settled his reading glasses on his face and shook out the letter.
‘Dear Sir,
Upon the demise of my late honored father this past summer, I came across some documents in his desk pertaining to the entail on your family’s estate. I have always known of the disagreement that subsisted between yourself and my father, and knowledge of this fact always gave me much uneasiness. Having received ordination at Easter, I feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing of peace in all families within the reach of my influence; and on these grounds, I flatter myself that my present overtures of goodwill are highly commendable, and the circumstance of my being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject the offered olive branch. I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the means of injuring your amiable daughters, and beg leave to apologize for it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make them every possible amends, but of this we shall speak further...
Papa looked over his reading glasses at all his girls and grinned.
“All of this, my dears, in four sentences. The third one alone contained seventy-three words, and I freely admit to lowering myself to count them. It seems my sense of the ridiculous was stoked by the fact my cousin is a verbose gentleman, and I shall not bore you with the rest. Suffice it to say, he will arrive at four o’clock this afternoon and stay till the Saturday se’nnight following.”
“I do not like this, Mr. Bennet,” Mamma said, fussing with her flatware. “To mention the entail and our daughters in the same sentence can mean only one thing.”
“What is that?” Lydia asked, her eyes wide.
“He means to marry one of us,” Mary replied calmly. “It makes perfect sense.”
“None of my daughters will be offered to Mr. Collins in an attempt to keep Longbourn within the family.” Papa’s voice was firm in his conviction. “If any of you find him amiable and handsome, the choice of accepting any offer is yours. Otherwise, this peacemaking gentleman will enjoy a two-week holiday in Hertfordshire, and nothing further.”
At precisely four o”clock – not a minute too early and not a minute too late – Mr. Collins’ hired hack turned through the gates of Longbourn manor. Elizabeth wondered if the man had sat on the road with his pocket watch in hand to ensure his perfectly timed arrival. They all watched, some holding their breath, as he fumbled his way out of the conveyance. The man had no notion of what he was about, nor how to gracefully exit a carriage. He seemed to be all arms and legs.
Finally, both his feet hit the ground. The black valise he’d refused to hand off to the groom remained in his hand, and the round parson’s hat stayed atop his head, although it threatened to topple off when he bowed low in front of their father.
“Mr. Collins,” Papa said. “Welcome to Longbourn. Please allow me to introduce you to my wife and daughters.”
“Thank you, Cousin Bennet. I am anxious to make their acquaintance.”
Papa began the introductions, starting with his wife and ending with his youngest daughter. When complete, Mr. Collins rocked on his heels and turned his attention to Mamma.
“I heard much of your daughter’s beauty, Mrs. Bennet, but now having met and seen them in person, it is obvious their fame has fallen short of the truth.” His gaze skittered in the direction of Jane “I do not doubt you seeing them all in due time well disposed of in marriage.”
Mary had not been wrong in surmising her cousin was here to find a bride. Elizabeth could not help the small smile that threatened to turn into a grin when she noticed Jane’s pursed lips. Mr. Collins was in for much disappointment if he expected to court Mamma’s eldest daughter.
They turned to enter the house and Mr. Collins rushed to offer an escort to Jane.
“Allow me, Cousin Jane,” he said, holding out his elbow in an awkward manner. With her inherent grace, Jane placed her hand lightly on his forearm and allowed him to lead her into the family parlor behind their mother and father.
Once settled with fresh cakes and biscuits, along with a fragrant blend of tea Uncle Gardiner had sent for them to try, Mr. Collins once again brought up the fate of his dear cousins and future hopes of matrimonial bliss.
“You are very kind, sir, to worry about family members you have only met just today.” Mamma looked around at her five daughters and gave them all a loving smile. “I wish with all my heart my girls make advantageous marriages. However, right now things are very much up in the air.”
“You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate.”
“I have not given it that much thought. There are a few eligible gentlemen in the area…”
Mamma paused and did not continue her sentence. It was not uncommon for their mother to lose her place in the conversation, although members of the family were comfortable with her silence, new acquaintances sometimes became flustered. Fortunately, Mr. Collins was not one of those people. He barreled on as though Mamma had not stopped talking completely.
“I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, and could say much on the subject, but I am cautious of appearing forward and precipitate. I can assure the young ladies I have come prepared to admire them.” He glanced again in Jane’s direction, who was helping Lydia and Kitty trim a bonnet. “At present, I will not say more. Perhaps when we are better acquainted—”
They were interrupted by a summons to dinner and once again Mr. Collins offered to escort the eldest daughter.
“Mr. Collins,” Papa said as the gangly gentleman crooked his elbow to Jane. “If you wish to be so formal, it is only correct you escort your hostess.”
With effusive apologies, Mr. Collins took Mamma’s arm and walked her into the dining room. The rest of the family followed in no particular order, although Jane and Elizabeth made sure they sat on either side of their father, with Mary sliding in beside Jane to prevent Mr. Collins from sitting next to his intended victim.
Papa gave a valiant effort to direct the conversation throughout the first course, however, Mr. Collins’s admiration for the hall and dining room took precedence as each room and its decor was praised. The dinner too, was highly admired and he begged to know to which of his fair cousins, the excellence of its cookery was owing.
“We are very well able to keep a cook, Mr. Collins,” Mamma said with a huff. “My girls are gentlewomen and have nothing to do in the kitchen.”
“Please forgive my presumption. It is only that my future wife must have some knowledge of how a kitchen is run as I have few servants.”
Once again, his gaze landed on Jane, who kept her eyes lowered and her attention remained riveted on her soup. As they waited for the footmen to remove the first course and commence serving the second, Papa began a conversation about his cousin’s ordination and receiving the living at Hunsford.
“I am very fortunate in my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She is the daughter of an earl and the widow of a baronet. So far, she has graciously approved both of the discourses which I had the honor of preaching before her and twice she has asked me to dine at her home. I flatter myself that she approves of my company as she sent for me only the Saturday before I came to Hertfordshire, to make up her pool of quadrille in the evening.”
He released a contented sigh at the memory.
“Does she live near you, sir?” Mamma asked.
“The garden in which stands my humble abode is separated only by a lane from Rosings Park, her ladyship’s residence.”
“I think you said she was a widow. Has she any family?”
“She has one daughter, the heiress of Rosings, which is a very extensive property.”
“And what sort of young lady is Miss de Bourgh? Is she handsome?”
“She is a most charming young lady indeed. Lady Catherine herself says that in point of true beauty, Miss de Bourgh is far superior to the handsomest of her sex; because there is that in her features which marks the young woman of distinguished birth.”
“Did you just say your patroness equates beauty with rank?” Papa asked after wiping his mouth with a linen napkin.
“Her ladyship likes to have the distinction of rank preserved—”
“We are all beautiful in the eyes of our Lord, Mr. Collins.”
This gentle reprimand came from Mary. It was obvious to Elizabeth, given the disgusted look her next youngest sister sent toward Papa’s cousin, that she still suffered a headache and wished him silent.
“I am certain,” Mamma attempted to smooth over the rough edges of the conversation while still gracing Mary with a sympathetic look. “If Miss de Bourgh is as charming as you declare, she is the belle of every ball she attends.”
“Unfortunately, she is of a sickly constitution, which has prevented her from making a grand entrance into the elevated society her mother enjoys. However, Miss de Bourgh is a perfectly amiable, genteel sort of lady, and often condescends to drive by my humble abode in her little phaeton and ponies.”
“How old is Lady Catherine’s daughter?”
“She reached her majority this past summer.”
“The same age as my dear Jane,” Mamma said with a loving smile. “She reached her majority just before Easter.”
“I had not realized you were so old, Cousin Jane. I am surprised you are still unmarried.”
Six ladies and one gentleman stared at Mr. Collins who, upon realizing the table had gone unnaturally silent, glanced up from cutting his food.
“Do you espouse such nonsense to your patroness when speaking of her yet unmarried daughter?” Papa almost growled out through clenched teeth.
“Of course not! I have more than once observed to Lady Catherine that her charming daughter seemed born to be a duchess. These are the kind of little things which please her ladyship, and it is a sort of attention which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to pay.”
“Let me understand you clearly. Because Lady Catherine is the daughter of an earl, you are bound to pay her daughter mindless compliments, while my daughter, whom you perceive as simply a gentleman’s daughter, you insult with impunity.”
Wide-eyed, Mr. Collins gaped at his elder cousin. Realizing her husband’s temper was flaring into a dangerous zone, Mamma changed the subject.
“Has Miss de Bourgh been presented? I do not remember seeing her name among the ladies at court.”
“Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her from being in town. I told Lady Catherine myself the British court has been deprived of its brightest ornament. Had she the strength to attend, I am positive the Queen herself would have kissed her brow and asked her for tea.”
No one dared tell the obsequious little man that both Jane and Elizabeth, in the company of their Aunt Sarah, did have tea with the Queen. None of them wanted him to fawn over their elevated status. Let him think of them as simply a gentleman’s daughters. Elizabeth decided to pick up the conversation thread and stitch a different picture.
“Have you any hobbies, Mr. Collins?”
She could not have hit upon a better topic and the gentleman launched into a detailed explanation of his aviary, the herb garden he tended to with great care, and how fortunate he was to have a substantial glebe attached to the parsonage. This took the family through to the end of their supper, whereupon they congregated in the family drawingroom.
Mr. Collins offered to read to them from Fordyce’s Sermons, but Papa declined the offer and brought out the backgammon board.
“Our rector, Mr. Abernathy, provides ample care for our family’s spiritual health. While here in Hertfordshire, Mr. Collins, please consider yourself on vacation. Now, let me assess your ability with backgammon.”
Jane, Elizabeth, and Mary all shared a knowing look when their father told his cousin to consider himself on vacation. It was their father’s way of reminding them that Mr. Collins would find no bride beneath the eaves of Longbourn.