Chapter 27
Sitting Room
Longbourn
The Next Morning
Elizabeth had slept poorly, woken early, and gone for a brisk walk along a path between brightly covered trees before returning to Longbourn to break her fast. Now she sat alone in the cozy sitting room, studying a ledger book regarding the stable expenses of the estate.
Mr. Collins’s apparent desire to make her his wife was distressing, but there was work to be done, after all.
In any case, while he was obviously not clever, she hoped she could be sufficiently snubbing and dismissive to discourage him from actually making an offer of marriage to her.
The door opened, and she looked up and then froze with discomfiture as the heir of the estate stepped into the room, his round face brightening as his gaze fell upon her.
“Here you are, Cousin!” he exclaimed. “I have been looking all over the house! I hope you do not mind if I interrupt you? I have something of great importance to discuss.”
She rose to her feet and said, “Sir, I apologize, but I have just been analyzing the expenses for the stable, and I need to speak to Coachman Jack on the subject of the horses’ feed for winter, so I do not have time to discuss what I believe is…”
“My dear Miss Elizabeth!” the clergyman interrupted, wandering over to the fire so that the flames would warm his back and sporting an overly self-satisfied expression.
“This is exactly why I simply must speak to you! It is, if you do not mind me saying, quite insupportable that you should be forced to manage such things. You are not only a lady, but a young lady, and as much as I esteem your father, such duties ought not to fall on your shoulders!”
Elizabeth had, on occasion, found herself fretting at the work which had been thrust upon her by her family, but she did not find herself grateful for her cousin’s sympathy on the matter. It seemed a confrontation could not be avoided with this simpleton.
“With all due respect to you, it is none of your business,” she said in as calm a voice as she could manage.
“Ah, but it is very much my business, and I assure you that when we are married, I will lift those duties off your…”
“When we are what?” Elizabeth interposed in an incredulous tone.
If she had hoped to discourage her cousin, she was mistaken.
“Why, when we are married, of course,” the rector replied confidently.
“I spoke at length to Lady Bennet on the subject, and we are in agreement that you are the perfect wife for me. Your elder sister, I believe, is being courted by Mr. Bingley of Netherfield Hall, and in any case, you are the mistress of Emerald Island, not Miss Bennet, which frankly I find rather odd, but it matters not. When we are married, Longbourn and Emerald Island will be joined together in one family, which will be wonderful! It will permit your most honorable mother to stay at Longbourn until the end of her days, and we will be able to live at Emerald Island until your father passes on to his reward.”
There were a great many problems with this statement, and Elizabeth was tempted to point them out one by one, but a moment’s thought convinced her that logic was not Mr. Collins’s strong suit.
“No, I will not marry you,” she said baldly. She was certain that he would not hear her if she spoke gently, and she was determined to hit the man over the head with her words, metaphorically of course.
He stared at her in wonder, his mouth opening and closing like a trout for an uncomfortably long time before he said, “I beg your pardon, Miss Elizabeth?”
“I will not marry you,” she repeated in a sterner tone. “I appreciate your offer, indeed I do, but we would not suit in the least.”
Mr. Collins shook his head in apparent bewilderment. “But Miss Elizabeth, you must marry me. Your mother wishes it.”
Elizabeth straightened her back and lifted her chin. “Mr. Collins, I love my mother, but I will not wed simply because she wishes me to. I would not make you happy, sir, and you would not make me happy.”
He blinked at her. “Happy? Surely … oh!”
He paused to smile to himself, with a patronizing look of understanding on his homely face.
“I understand entirely now! You have been permitted to read novels and have come to the absurd conclusion that marriage ought to involve love and passion. It is quite foolish, you know, and as your husband, I will forbid such books to be in my abode. It is all fine and well for a young girl to read such nonsense, perhaps, but it is no respectable pursuit for a woman and much less so a wife.”
Elizabeth clenched her jaw tight and, without a word, strode to the door and hurried out of the room before she said more than she should.
She would not marry that man, not for anything, but she was intelligent enough to know that any more argument with her unwanted suitor was quite pointless.
What a tiresome man! He was a clodpoll of the first order, and nothing she said would grant him either wisdom or sense.
She could only hope that Sir Thomas would defend her against his oafish heir. In the meantime, she would hide in the stable again, which would give her the opportunity to avoid the current storm in the house, and she could also speak to Jack about various expenses associated with the stables.
***
Longbourn
Twenty Minutes Later
Bingley swung down from his saddle and handed the reins of his gelding to one of the stable boys who had come running into the yard at the sound of his horse's hoof beats.
The boy tugged his forelock respectfully, and Bingley took a moment to brush all the horsehair from his coat and breeches.
He had taken more than usual care over his attire this morning, much to his valet's surprise.
His fine Weston-made olive coat and tan breeches looked well with his blond hair, his boots shone much brighter than he usually cared for, and his cravat was arranged to a nicety.
This brief interlude of primping allowed Bingley time to steady his hands, which displayed a tiresome tendency to sweat and tremble.
Perhaps he could have approached his purpose more calmly had he the benefit of a good night's rest, but sleep had eluded him.
His thoughts had been consumed all night long by the exquisite Miss Bennet.
It was true that he had been in love many times before, and always with a handsome, blonde, and blue-eyed lady.
It was equally true that he had fallen out of love just as quickly, but as often as not, this was due to the discovery of some fatal flaw in the lady's character or incompatibility of personality.
Miss Winslow had been unkind to servants, Miss Bartlett had been terminally vain, Miss Fischer had disliked dogs, Miss Carlton was far too clever and witty for him, and so on.
Miss Bennet was none of these things. Never before had Bingley met a lady so universally kind, gracious, humble, charming, and sweet-natured and, Miss Bennet had assured him, she adored dogs.
She did not make him feel stupid or slow-witted by her conversation, she was unfailingly charitable to the maids and footmen, and he suspected that the idea of kicking a spaniel would never even occur to her.
Based on everything he knew of the lady, he was certain that Miss Bennet would be his ideal wife.
When he had risen from his bed, it was with absolute determination that it was time for him to make the lady an offer.
He had dressed carefully and sent to the stables for his horse to be readied, and then he slipped away from Netherfield Hall with no one else any the wiser.
He was aware that Darcy, older and wealthier and more experienced in the ways of the world, worried for him.
Bingley would not be dissuaded. He was a grown man, he had attained his majority, and he was quite capable of choosing his own bride.
He straightened his hat with determination, nodded courteously to the Bennets' coachman, who had just walked out of the tack room, and turned towards the house.
A moment later he swung back in surprise as a rather unexpected person stepped into view.
“Miss Elizabeth!” he said, quickly overcoming his surprise. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” the lady replied. She was dressed warmly in a dark pelisse, woolen gloves, and sturdy boots, and her brown hat was pulled over her ears. “I hope you are well?”
“I am, very well,” he said automatically, and then, after a quick glance at the house, said, “I was hoping to speak to Miss Bennet.”
“In private?” Miss Elizabeth asked with a slight smile.
He coughed and nodded. “Erm, yes, if that would be convenient, yes.”
The lady looked at the coachman, who looked back and nodded, and then said, “Sir, I fear that the house is in turmoil at the moment, unfortunately.”
“Oh,” Bingley replied, his face falling. “I will call another day then.”
“Or, if you do not mind a rather unusual place to speak, may I suggest the tack room here in the stable?” Miss Elizabeth suggested, her eyes twinkling. “It will be far more private than any room in the house, you know.”
It was an odd suggestion, but Bingley was eager to speak to the lady he adored, so he nodded and said, “If Miss Bennet does not mind…?”
“I am confident she will not mind in the slightest,” Miss Elizabeth said knowingly.
***
Tack Room
Stables
Longbourn
Twenty Minutes Later
“Yes, Mr. Bingley, I will marry you,” Jane Bennet said with a brilliant smile.
Charles Bingley, who had been holding his breath, let it out in a huff, and he beamed at his beloved. “Oh, Miss Bennet, oh Jane, thank you!”
She stepped towards him and held out her hands, which he took, relishing the feeling of those slender fingers inside the practical woolen gloves.
“You have made me the happiest of men,” he said, and he meant it.
“And I am the happiest of women,” she replied, blushing rosily. “Thank you for your offer and also for speaking to me in most unaccustomed quarters. I know it is bizarre, and your willingness to meet here gives me hope that my somewhat eccentric family will not overly distress you.”
He was genuinely ecstatic but could not help but ask, “Might I inquire as to why Longbourn is in an uproar? If it is private, of course, I need not know.”
“You are my betrothed, and perhaps it is best that you know of the situation before you entirely commit yourself…”
“I am committed,” he interposed hastily. “I love you and wish to marry you regardless of what is happening.”
She smiled and said in a lower tone, “Mr. Collins, our cousin, asked for Elizabeth’s hand in marriage, and she refused him. He is upset, and our mother is even more upset.”
Bingley grimaced. “Your cousin asked your sister to … I see. It was an unexpected offer, I gather?”
“Very unexpected,” Jane said with a matching grimace. “You must know that we met Mr. Collins for the first time only this week! For him to ask for Lizzy’s hand in marriage on such short acquaintance is entirely absurd.”
Bingley’s mouth fell open, and he said, “This week? He must be mad!”
“I would say that he is more greedy than mad. Our father absentmindedly informed both him and Lady Bennet that Elizabeth is the owner of Emerald Island, and the pair of them came up with the idea of joining the two estates in one marriage. But for our cousin to think he could demand that Lizzy marry him within a few days of being introduced is absurd indeed, so perhaps he is mad.”
Bingley shook his head and said, “I am sorry for Miss … for Elizabeth. But may I ask, that is, are you at all distressed that your younger sister is mistress of Emerald Island?”
“Not at all,” Jane said immediately. “Elizabeth has earned it, I assure you. She has been working hard for years, rushing back and forth between the estates, slaving over the ledgers, and managing both tenants and fishermen. I could not do it, as I have no head for figures.”
He nodded in relief and said, “Elizabeth will not marry outside of her own inclination, I hope?”
“No, she will not,” Jane said with a sigh, “but I fear that she will be subject to anger from both our cousin and our mother, and Lady Bennet is not quiet when she is angry.”
She shook her head and said, “But enough of that. Sir Thomas is in the library, and if you were willing to speak to him now to ask for his blessing, our happy news ought to distract Mamma sufficiently that she will leave poor Lizzy alone.”
“By all means,” he said, and kissed her lightly on the lips before continuing, “Please lead the way.”