Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
LONGBOURN
Thomas Bennet was livid. His oldest daughter, Jane, had just brought him a note that wrecked all his carefully laid plans.
Four years ago, just before his favourite daughter, Elizabeth, was scheduled to return home, a messenger had arrived at Longbourn with a rather odd letter.
Bennet had not fully understood what it was asking, but was pleased by what it offered in return.
The letter writer insisted that Bennet refuse any offers of marriage made to his second daughter for the foreseeable future and even encouraged the man to arrange a marriage for her to someone he considered “suitable.”
In return for agreeing to this, Bennet would receive six thousand pounds.
When his daughter married the man of his choosing, as long as it was not the man who made the first request, he would receive an additional six thousand pounds.
While the request was odd, none of it raised any serious alarms—until he reached the final line of the letter which carried a far more disquieting tone.
The letter ominously concluded with a warning: should he fail to comply with the terms, there would be "consequences for all concerned," though it gave no hint as to the nature of these consequences.
Troubled but tempted by the sum, Bennet had put the matter aside, thinking perhaps it was some sort of jest or a bluff from a scheming relative.
Though he read Elizabeth’s letters from Derbyshire and had noted frequent mentions of a Mr. and Miss Darcy, he had not thought much of their inclusion in her letters.
He expected her to return home unattached and easily agreed to the stipulations of the letter writer.
With his signature on the document, the messenger handed him a bank draft for six thousand pounds and departed.
A few days later, his daughter returned home, speaking excitedly of her intention to marry this Mr. Darcy.
When his sister-by-marriage spoke to him first of this man who wanted to take Elizabeth away, Bennet’s mind immediately turned to ways of discouraging the match.
He resolved, first, to simply not reply to the man’s letter she brought.
Surely, if he ignored it, the gentleman would lose interest, thinking it not worth his time to come in person.
Should the man indeed come to Longbourn, Bennet was confident he could find some excuse to turn him away.
He also recalled the agreement he had signed, promising to deny any requests made for Elizabeth’s hand for the foreseeable future.
Not long after her return, a letter arrived from his cousin, Patrick Collins, who was on his deathbed.
In the letter, Collins expressed his desire to see peace between their families and suggested that his son, William Collins, be engaged to one of the Bennet daughters as a way to repair the rift.
The younger Collins was studying to take orders and would soon become a respectable husband.
Such a union, Collins reasoned, would ensure that the Bennet women could remain at Longbourn, given that Mr. Bennet had been unable to produce a male heir.
This, Bennet decided, was the perfect solution and presumably was not the offer of marriage the anonymous letter writer indicated.
Not only did it provide him with a legitimate reason to refuse Mr. Darcy’s request, but it also solved the issue of the contract he had signed.
If she were already engaged to the heir of Longbourn, no one could dispute his rejection of Darcy’s suit.
Furthermore, the engagement would mean Elizabeth would remain at Longbourn for the rest of her life.
She could marry William Collins, live in the dower house, and continue assisting her father in managing the estate until his dying day.
To Bennet, it seemed an ideal resolution to every dilemma he faced.
In Mr. Bennet’s mind, the matter was settled: Elizabeth would simply have to accept his decision.
At sixteen, she was too young to truly understand what she wanted, and as her father—and a man—he believed he was far more suited to make such an important choice for her.
This other young man was merely a case of youthful infatuation, and Elizabeth could easily be persuaded to see reason.
The promise of a secure home at Longbourn for the rest of her life would surely convince her.
By marrying Elizabeth to a man of his choosing, he believed he was sparing her the inevitable heartbreak when the young man in question either failed to come for her or changed his mind.
Darcy’s letter had mentioned waiting until Elizabeth was of a more proper age to wed, but Bennet remained convinced the attachment was fleeting.
In his view, the relationship was unlikely to survive the passage of time, and by intervening, he was preventing her from being seen as a "jilt” when the engagement ended.
With this in mind, he wrote a reply to Patrick Collins offering his second daughter as a suitable match for his son.
Worried his brother Philips would refuse to write the marriage contract, he contracted with a solicitor in St. Albans to write it instead.
To the Gardiners, he wrote a letter informing him that he intended to deny Darcy’s suit, refusing to explain matters any further other than stating there was a previous engagement.
This led to a break in the family, as Mr. Bennet continued to refuse to explain his reasoning despite repeated requests for additional information.
All he said was that Elizabeth was already engaged, and it was none of their business to whom she was engaged.
From that point on, Mr. Bennet monitored all the mail that came into or left the house, ensuring no letters were sent between Longbourn and London or Pemberley.
Mr. Bennet explained his reasoning to no one, allowing everyone to believe that their letters were going unanswered.
Any letters that arrived, he burned without reading.
Eventually, he persuaded his brother Philips of the merit of the plan and encouraged his brother to write to London confirming the marriage had taken place.
Therefore, when Jane handed him Elizabeth’s note the afternoon after the assembly, he stared at it in shock for several minutes, his anger rising as he considered what had occurred under his nose.
Somehow, that Darcy fellow had circumvented his wishes and absconded with Elizabeth, flying away with her to the border intending to marry her there without his permission.
Bennet was further annoyed when he realised how close he had come to the day his own plans were to have been fulfilled.
Mr. William Collins was to come to Longbourn next month to meet his intended bride, for he was finally in a position to marry although the wedding would not take place until the following summer.
Over the last four years, Bennet had repeatedly requested that Collins come to Longbourn and claim his bride.
However, Collins had been insistent that he was not ready for marriage, and the wedding would need to wait.
First, Collins had been insistent that he finish his schooling because he wanted to achieve his dream of becoming a rector, thus fulfilling his promise to his departed mother on her deathbed.
Bennet had asked him once again to come when his schooling was finished, but Collins then needed to spend some time as a curate.
Just this past Easter, he had been ordained and gained a living in Kent.
He had been there nearly half a year, and finally, his patroness had agreed to allow him to visit Longbourn to meet his future bride.
They would formalise the engagement and begin planning for the wedding to occur that summer, after which they would return to Kent.
This was not what Bennet wished for. He still had hopes that Elizabeth would somehow manage to convince Collins to remain at Longbourn after they were wed, claiming his inheritance sooner than the man would have had thought possible.
The two would have been able to manage the estate, even before they were wed, and Elizabeth could train the young man to take over the role of master.
Yet now, those plans lay in shambles, leaving Bennet uncertain about what to do next.
Attempting to halt the eloping couple seemed futile, especially since it seemed they would have a significant head start.
From what Bennet knew of Darcy, the man was quite wealthy, meaning he could afford to change horses frequently along their route.
Bennet himself was neither capable of riding far nor fast enough to catch up with them, and the effort required to try would be beyond what he was willing to expend.
No, it was best to allow this travesty to unfold.
The looming issue of the additional six thousand pounds promised by his anonymous benefactor weighed heavily on his mind, along with the six thousand he had received four years ago.
Would the benefactor insist on repayment after forbidding the marriage before?
The money was long gone; it had vanished almost as soon as it had arrived.
His wife had spent a portion of it on clothing for their daughters and other frivolities, but most had gone towards expanding his beloved library.