Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
LONGBOURN
Since Elizabeth had left, Longbourn had been an entirely different home.
Without Elizabeth to keep her company, Jane had taken it upon herself to mentor the younger girls.
Mary required only occasional guidance and gentle reminders about what topics were appropriate to discuss in company, particularly regarding spiritual matters.
However, her exposure to Mr. Collins had already prompted her to reconsider her behaviour.
His incessant sermonising had grated on even Mary’s nerves, inadvertently inspiring her to adopt a more moderate approach to her own conduct.
Kitty, for her part, had easily embraced the expectations placed upon her, eager for Jane’s attention and striving to emulate her eldest sister for a change.
Always impressionable, Kitty had previously sought approval by mimicking Lydia.
However, with her mother’s newfound restraint and Jane’s guidance, Kitty quickly recognised that aligning herself with Jane’s example would serve her far better than continuing to follow Lydia’s lead.
Although reluctant to correct her mother, Jane was pleased when the Gardiners arrived not long after the Darcys departed, and Mrs. Gardiner intended to follow up on what Elizabeth and Anne had spoken to that lady about regarding her comportment and that of her daughters.
During their visit, Mr. Bennet had done all he could to avoid the Gardiners given his behaviour and his recent set down by his wife and two of his daughters and her demand that they attend school.
Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy had agreed to pay for the clothing required for this as a Christmas present to the girls, and Mrs. Gardiner would accompany them to her dressmaker to obtain the needed items.
A few days after Christmas, the Gardiners, along with Kitty and Lydia, left Hertfordshire to go to London until the arrangements could be made for the two girls to attend school.
Kitty could hardly contain her excitement at the prospect of attending her school.
She had been assured that masters in the arts would be brought in to help her hone her skills, a prospect that filled her with anticipation.
Painting and drawing had always interested her, and the opportunity to develop her talent under proper guidance felt like a dream come true.
It was an interest she had always had to hide, for Lydia teased her about it, so the idea of pursuing it without Lydia was delightful.
Lydia, on the other hand, was far less enthused.
She sulked all morning after hearing the arrangements, sighing and glaring exaggeratedly to show her displeasure.
Matters came to a head during Mrs. Gardiner’s visit, when she sat Lydia down for a stern discussion of what was expected of her.
Mrs. Gardiner’s calm yet firm tone left no room for misinterpretation.
She informed Lydia exactly what would happen should she fail to comply with the schoolmistress’s expectations or if she was sent away.
At first, Lydia protested loudly, declaring the entire notion of school ridiculous and beneath her.
Her tantrum continued until Mrs. Bennet, uncharacteristically resolute, interjected.
“If you cannot behave properly at school,” she said with a raised brow, “then you will not visit London again under any circumstances—not with your aunt, not with me, and certainly not with your sister. Your behaviour will determine your privileges.”
This threat struck a nerve, for the prospect of attending balls and the theatre had been exciting, and though Lydia huffed and grumbled, she eventually capitulated.
She would attend her lessons, albeit reluctantly.
Her enthusiasm was non-existent, but the prospect of foregoing these pleasures outweighed her disdain for structured education.
Even as she packed, Lydia made her displeasure known at every turn; however, the warning from her mother and aunt remained fresh enough in her mind to keep her from an outright rebellion.
Only a few days later, a somewhat humbled Mr. Collins arrived at Longbourn.
In the days after Lady Catherine’s funeral, he had met with Mr. and Mrs. Hargrove along with his bishop and received the unwelcome news that he was to be defrocked because of his unrestrained adulation for his former patroness—a woman whose actions had harmed many.
While only a few knew the true story of Lady Catherine’s death and her actions in the months leading up to it, the bishop was one of them.
He could not condone a man in the pulpit who was not only stupid, but also had idolised his patroness to the extreme that Mr. Collins had.
With nowhere else to go, Mr. Collins arrived at Longbourn unannounced, requesting a place to stay and, to Mr. Bennet’s dismay, asking him to fulfil his promise to teach him how to manage the estate.
To Mrs. Bennet’s surprise—and irritation—he had forgotten her earlier warning forbidding him from pursuing any of her daughters, deeming him unworthy.
She was further angered when he suggested courting Jane to forge a closer alliance with the family.
Recognising an opportunity, Mrs. Bennet quickly persuaded her husband to take in their cousin, the heir to Longbourn, and begin his preparations for the estate. She arranged for him to stay in the guest room and ensured his comfort.
During dinner, she listened as Mr. Collins outlined his plans for the estate. She encouraged him, flattered his ambitions, and concealed her doubts. However, when he once again voiced his intentions to court Jane that evening after dinner, Mrs. Bennet could no longer remain silent.
"Mr. Collins," she said, her voice overly bright, "you are correct—it would be such a fine match for Longbourn. Jane is indeed sweet and accomplished, and deserving of an excellent man."
Mr. Collins, ever eager to please, agreed, adding that Jane was everything a wife should be. Mrs. Bennet smiled, masking her dismay.
"Yes, Mr. Collins, of course," she replied, her tone softening as though considering his words. "But Jane has had quite a few suitors already. With her temperament, she might take longer to decide." She feigned concern, adding, "You know how these things are."
Mr. Collins nodded, puzzled but understanding. "I will give her time,” he said. "But a man must act with resolve."
Mrs. Bennet nodded, her expression calm, but her mind raced.
She had no intention of letting Jane marry Mr. Collins.
For now, she would let him believe he had her approval, but she had already begun considering other options.
With a tight smile, she said, “Indeed, Mr. Collins. Proceed as you see fit. I am certain all will work out for the best.”
Mr. Collins beamed, pleased with her response, and Mrs. Bennet felt a quiet satisfaction at the mask she had worn so skillfully. Though her words were not the truth, they had achieved their purpose.
A few mornings later, when the carriage arrived to take Mrs. Bennet and the girls to Pemberley, Mr. Bennet raised a commotion.
His protests echoed through the house, but Mrs. Bennet paid them no mind.
She had made up her mind to visit her daughter in the north, and no amount of protests from her husband was going to change that fact.
He had not stirred himself to stop her from anything she had wanted to do in years, and nothing would change about that now.
With a triumphant smile, Mrs. Bennet climbed into the carriage, pausing at the door to deliver a smug parting shot.
“Mr. Bennet,” she said sweetly, “you were the one who thought it so wise to begin training your successor when you thought he might marry our Lizzy, so he might take over Longbourn without issue. Now, you have the perfect opportunity to teach him all you and Lizzy have done over the years. It should be no more challenging than instructing our daughter when she was but a girl. Mr. Collins is, after all, a university man and ought to grasp these matters just as well—if not better—than any young woman. Have you not always claimed that men are far superior in such matters?”
With that, she gave a satisfied grin and settled back into her seat, her eyes glinting with triumph.
The carriage rolled forward, leaving Mr. Bennet to endure Mr. Collins’s company alone.
Mrs. Bennet was content with the knowledge that her time away from Longbourn would be spent with Elizabeth and Darcy, and her husband, well, he would have no one to blame but himself for the situation he now found himself in.
Only hours after her departure, Mr. Bennet was already deeply exasperated by Mr. Collins’s pompous declarations and foolish schemes.
Mr. Collins showed an alarming lack of understanding about estate management despite his education, and his suggestions ranged from ill-informed to downright ridiculous.
By evening, Mr. Bennet was already ruing his wife’s decision to punish him by leaving him to manage this situation alone.
“Cousin Bennet,” Collins began, puffing out his chest, “I propose we convert the eastern field into an orchard—apples, pears, perhaps even plums! A forward-thinking endeavour, would you not agree?”
Mr. Bennet arched a brow. “An orchard, you say? Have you considered how long it takes for such trees to mature?”
“Well, no, but I am sure the profit would outweigh the delay,” Collins stammered, thinking of how well he had enjoyed those fruits at Rosings when Lady Catherine would permit him to eat the fruit that was not appropriate for her own table.
“Where exactly will I obtain the funds to purchase these trees?” Mr. Bennet asked mildly.
Collins blinked. “The estate’s income should be sufficient.”
“Indeed,” Mr. Bennet said dryly. “Perhaps if we stopped feeding the tenants, we could redirect the funds from that to this grand venture.”