Chapter One #2
Bennet’s lips twitched. “The brevity of her disappointment will be inversely proportional to the gratitude of our neighbour’s ears.”
“Father!”
“Come now, we both know Mary’s enthusiasm far outweighs her talent.”
“She tries so hard.”
“I know. Now, off with you – time is of the essence. We shall convene at the entrance shortly.”
“As you wish, Papa,” Jane replied, before gliding across the ballroom in pursuit of her younger sisters.
Bennet sought out Mary and conveyed his direction, which she accepted with characteristic solemnity, collecting her musical compositions before departing. Now, only his wife’s loose lips remained to be silenced. He approached the area where Mrs. Bennet held court and cringed.
“Five thousand a year,” she sighed out to Lady Lucas, her childhood confidante. “My Jane shall want for nothing as mistress of Netherfield Park. Oh, Sarah, how delightful that sounds! Mrs. Bingley of Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire.”
“At present, she remains Miss Bennet of Longbourn,” Bennet halted before his wife.
“Not for long, Mr. Bennet. Mark my words, by Christmas, two of our daughters shall be engaged to be married.”
“Two engagements?” Bennet shook his head. “A word with you, if you please, my dear.”
Mrs. Bennet’s face brightened. “Has Mr. Bingley spoken to you of his intentions? I knew my Jane could not be so beautiful for nothing.”
“Indeed. Now come along; this requires privacy.”
They departed the ballroom. His wife almost pranced by his side, her elation was so high. That euphoric joy evaporated when her husband turned to her with a stern expression, and he kept his voice low while he scolded her.
“I insist you cease this foolishness at once! Mr. Bingley has made no offer for Jane, nor,” – he held up one hand to stop her protest – “will Mr. Collins wed Elizabeth.”
“But surely—”
“Not another word. Collect your things quietly. I shall wait for you by the ladies’ cloakroom, then we shall gather our daughters and return to Longbourn.”
“Return home? But Jane and Mr. Bingley—”
Mr. Bennet turned to his wife. “Jane and Elizabeth shall remain behind. I have instructed one of the coachmen to collect them when the ball concludes.”
“But why must we depart at such an unfashionable hour? Lydia will be most displeased to be torn from her officers.”
“A matter we shall address tomorrow, Mrs. Bennet,” he replied firmly. “Now, come along, I wish to leave sooner rather than later.”
Upon gathering in Netherfield’s grand entrance hall, Mr. Bennet was taken aback to find his eldest daughters also prepared to leave.
“I believe we had an understanding that you would stay.”
“We could not in good conscience remain while you all departed,” Elizabeth said. “Besides, it seemed cruel to send the coachmen and horses out twice in one night.”
“My Lizzy, ever thoughtful.” Bennet’s expression softened. “Very well, let us be off.”
“I don’t want to go!” Lydia’s face contorted in a childish pout, and she stomped her foot. “Captain Carter promised me a special surprise in the garden.”
“He promised you what?” Bennet’s voice rose sharply.
“A special surprise. I’m a great favourite with all the officers. They are forever begging for my kisses.” Her lower lip jutted forward defiantly. “I want to stay and receive my surprise.”
“The only surprise awaiting you will be my hand against your impudent backside if you do not leave this house, and enter the carriage immediately.”
“Mr. Bennet,” his wife interjected in an attempt to cajole her husband out of his petulance. “Our Lydia is merely high-spirited. Can she not remain for her surprise? Surely there is no harm in allowing her this small pleasure?”
Bennet gave Lydia a sideways glance before turning his full attention back to his wife.
“Do you recall Miss Crowther and her unexpected ‘surprise’?”
All colour drained from Mrs. Bennet’s face. After a moment of horrified contemplation, she seized her daughter’s wrist and pulled her towards the waiting carriage.
“We depart immediately. Not another word, Lydia,” her mother forced out between clenched teeth when her youngest squawked in protest. “I will explain further when we get home.”
Elizabeth’s family, clustered around the breakfast table the following morning, looked up when Mamma set her teacup down with unusual firmness.
“Will you now explain why we departed Netherfield with such haste last evening?”
“Let us finish our meal in peace,” replied her husband, buttering his toast with deliberate care. “The front parlour will better suit the discussion that awaits us.”
Before he could elaborate further, the breakfast room door burst open with such force, it rebounded against the wall. Mr. Collins stood in the doorway, his clerical garb rumpled and his countenance a portrait of indignation.
“Abandoned! At a prestigious social gathering!” he sputtered, nostrils flaring.
“Left to fend for myself among strangers! Had it not been for Mr. Darcy’s gracious intervention, I might have found myself sleeping in the stables!
Mr. Bingley’s footman delivered me here this morning in a cart, like an unwanted parcel, no less, when I should have been afforded the dignity of his personal carriage had he not had urgent business in London. ”
“Mr. Bingley gone to town? For what reason?” Mamma’s voice climbed an octave. “Has anyone else… that is… Mr. Bingley’s sisters. Surely his sisters remain?”
“The entire party departs tomorrow with Mr. Darcy. The house is being shuttered, as we speak.”
“Impossible!” Mamma leapt up, only to sink back down, her well-used handkerchief flapping ineffectually in front of her face. Elizabeth caught Jane’s eye, and witnessed her sister’s expression of quiet devastation. Mr. Collins, still vibrating with indignation in the doorway, cleared his throat.
“Despite this grievous offense to my person, I shall proceed with my intention to offer for Cousin Elizabeth.”
“You shall do nothing of the sort,” Papa remarked, his voice as casual as if he was commenting on the morning frost. “Not to Elizabeth, nor to any daughter of mine.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Let me be perfectly clear,” her father continued, each syllable clipped and precise. “No proposals. None whatsoever. Have I made myself understood?”
“Thank you, Papa,” Elizabeth said, cutting off Mr. Collins’s sputtering response.
“I should have quashed this nonsense upon his arrival. Forgive me for indulging in my amusement at your expense.” Papa addressed the room without sparing his cousin another glance.
“It seems as though I shall not get to enjoy the rest of my meal. Well, no matter, to the parlour, all of you. I have a few things to discuss. Mr. Collins is excluded as he will be occupied with packing his belongings and removing himself from our home.”
Meanwhile, Mr. Collins gaped, resembling a carp suddenly plucked from its pond.
With a feeble – “Oh, my!” – Mamma swooned, and Jane rushed to attend to Mamma, while Mary shepherded her younger sisters towards the parlour.
As Jane coaxed Mamma back to consciousness with sips of tepid tea, Mr. Collins seized his moment amidst the confusion.
He captured Elizabeth’s hand, and dropped heavily to one knee.
“Almost as soon as I entered this house, I chose you as my life’s companion and mother of my children.
You have accepted my attention with pleasure, so now, all that remains is the formality of your acceptance.
I will procure a common license, and we may wed by week’s end, departing for Kent, as previously arranged. ”
“Sir,” Elizabeth replied, her voice tight. “My father has expressly forbidden you to propose to any of his daughters. Even had he not, I found your attention most unwelcome, and have not the slightest inclination to become your wife.”
She wrenched her hand from his grasp and, when he reached for it again, struck his fingers away with a sharp slap.
“But Mrs. Bennet herself expressed delight when I revealed my intention to install you as the future mistress of Longbourn,” he protested, his jowl quivering.
“My mother does not speak for me. She never has, and she never will. Now, stand aside so that I may join my sisters.”
“You shall not dismiss me so easily.” Mr. Collins seized her arm with such force, the delicate muslin of the sleeve of her dress gave way at the shoulder. “You will be my wife or — GAH!”
Papa appeared suddenly behind him, pinching the parson’s ear between thumb and forefinger, and hauled him bodily towards the door.
“Not another word, Collins. Gather your possessions, and remove yourself from my property.”
When Mr. Collins protested, insisting Elizabeth’s reputation was in jeopardy and marriage inevitable, her father’s face darkened.
He bent close to the parson’s ear, and whispered, “I am a crack shot, and still fence once a week at St. Albans. Do not test my temper. Leave while you still have a beating heart.”
All colour drained from the man’s countenance, and Mr. Collins staggered back, clutching at his sloppily tied cravat, while a footman appeared at Papa’s subtle gesture, positioning himself near the trembling clergyman.
“But, how am I to depart without a suitable conveyance?” Mr. Collins stammered; his earlier boldness having evaporated.
“Meryton is but a short walk, a little over a mile. You can drag your trunk to the posting inn, and they will provide whatever transport you require to return to Kent. I care not what you do, just get off my land before I set the dogs on you.”
“Lady Catherine will hear of this travesty!”
“And yet, I remained unmoved,” Papa said. “Now, sir, I believe you have some packing to attend to.”