Chapter 8
I grabbed my hat and left Longbourn apace.
I could not bear to be tittered at or questioned a moment longer.
No, nor even observed. I hastened up the driveway and along the lane, going the opposite way to Meryton, for I had no wish to speak to anyone.
Everything was drear and damp, but I was hot with embarrassment.
Miss Elizabeth would not have me.
Not even though I was respectable and comfortable, with a powerful patroness. Not even though, one day, Longbourn would be mine, and as my wife she could have been its mistress and kept her home, as could her mother and any of her sisters who were at that time still unmarried.
Did she not understand that now I would marry another woman? Likely one unknown to her, who would have no family feeling for Mrs Bennet, nor for Miss Bennet, nor Mary, Kitty or Lydia.
Of course, when Longbourn was mine, I would deal with any females then resident as charitably as I was able.
I might even give them some regular income if that was a requirement to assure their comfort.
But Miss Elizabeth could not know that. Moreover, though she was pretty, she was not considered so comely as her sister Jane, and had been made no other offers, and might never attract any.
Did she really have no apprehension of these facts?
I could scarcely credit that she had refused me.
I felt a fool, but she surely had no sense whatsoever.
I stopped in the middle of the lane. Could she indeed be playing some game, perhaps without even knowing she played it?
I could bide my time, go back, ask her again after supper.
Or play the game myself; leave Longbourn and let her believe I was gone for good.
That would call her bluff. And then, a few months hence, I could return and ask her again.
My toes had gone numb with the cold. I walked on.
She was not playing a game. She had told me she was not.
The lane led down into a bleak and leafless wood, then uphill to a modest prospect of farmland. I did not know the area, but spied the start of a well-trodden bridleway which led off to the west, back through the wood. I took it, walking faster and my toes began to thaw.
There was a spiderweb, jewelled with dew.
There, a hawthorn’s scarlet hips, miraculously missed by squirrels and birds.
A russet carpet of leaves lay beneath the trees and everywhere there was a rich scent like Mrs Fowke’s good plum cake.
I swung my stick and strode along, spirits rising.
I might find some interesting new plant to tell Jem about.
Perhaps I could collect an unfamiliar seedpod and we could sow it come spring and find out what it was.
Today was Wednesday and I had only today, Thursday and Friday to endure.
Early on Saturday I would leave this place and be back home on Sunday.
My heart leapt at the thought and did not come back down to earth.
I found myself smiling. Yes, at the idea that I would see Jem soon, but there was something more. It took me another half mile to identify it as relief. Pure relief that Miss Elizabeth had said no.
I imagined the scenes had she said yes. I should have had to stay in the house, to receive congratulations and to show my new fiancée all the correct attentions.
And she would have thought I truly wanted to marry her.
I shuddered as I walked. I had persuaded myself that such deception did not matter to me, but suddenly, now I had escaped it, I could see it would have been cruel.
All of Jem’s misgivings had been so insightful and so sensible.
I could hardly credit how light I had made of them.
As it was, I was reprieved, at least for a while.
I could go back to Lady Catherine and tell her, honestly, that I had proposed to a very suitable young female and had been refused.
Lady Catherine might think I should have done better, but I could pretend I was not happy either.
I could play the part of the lovelorn swain, and if I played it well enough, I might win myself some months or even years of reprieve, for did not young men sometimes feel strongly in affairs of the heart and wait years for their beloveds to accept their proposals?
I would tell Lady Catherine that I believed Miss Elizabeth’s sentiments towards me would soften if I gave her time, and meanwhile wrote to her several times a week.
The bridleway led in a long curve and came back to the lane to the west of Longbourn. I was growing tired and hungry. I should get back and find Mr Bennet in his library, make conversation for half an hour or so and then it would be time for tea.
I was almost back at the house when I perceived a female figure coming out of the front door and proceeding towards me along the driveway. It was Miss Lucas, one of Miss Elizabeth’s friends, and I could not avoid her.
“Ah, Miss Lucas.” I bowed and lifted my hat. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Mr Collins.”
She was a plain woman with a large nose and she was looking at me so closely I guessed she was wondering what to say.
She would hardly be so ill-mannered as to raise the subject of my proposal and her friend’s refusal, but all the same, to demonstrate that I was quite calm and wished to speak of other things, I enquired after her health, and then the health of her mother and father, and her brothers and sisters, of which she had several.
She assured me she was well and they were well and I lifted my hat again to indicate that I wished to begin making my farewells.
“Will you walk with me in the garden, sir?” she asked. “It is not raining, for once.”
“Forgive me, Miss Lucas, I was on my way inside.”
“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “To tell you the truth, they are still in a to-do. Mrs Bennet is speaking with Lizzie again and while Lizzie says very little, Mrs Bennet says enough for several people and that rather loudly. Come with me, do, sir, for you will get little peace inside.”
“Well, well,” I said. “But I expect it is quiet enough in Mr Bennet’s study. I hope you will excuse me, Miss Lucas, I am rather tired, having been out walking this past hour.” I lifted my hat, bowed, and took a step towards the threshold. “Good day to you.”
“Mr Collins.”
“Miss Lucas?” My voice sounded weary. I turned back. I had not meant to be ill-mannered but I had talked enough. Conversation with strangers was ever a chore and I had done so much of it lately.
“I hope you will permit me to tell you how much I have enjoyed hearing you speak of Hunsford and your garden and the rectory there. It sounds quite charming, and all, really, that any sensible person could want.”
My weariness receded somewhat. “Thank you, Miss Lucas. You are quite right. The rectory at Hunsford is most commodious.”
“It certainly sounds everything I should want in a home, sir.”
It came to me that she was being kind, and that, perhaps, she wished to distance herself from the opinions of Miss Elizabeth, who had not been swayed by my descriptions of Hunsford.
“Then you are a young lady of good sense.”
“Yes, it is just the sort of place I should like to live. The rector of Hunsford’s wife should want for nothing, I fancy, having an excellent house, a respectable position, and plenty of opportunity for gainful employment and good works.
I am an active, capable sort of woman, Mr Collins, and I like to imagine myself in a place where I may prove useful.
” She paused, and then added, “Useful to my husband, you understand, sir, should I ever be fortunate enough to receive a proposal. I should prove a dutiful wife, I think, having a quiet disposition and a good understanding of the benefits of household economy.”
“Your sentiments do you credit, I am sure,” I said. “You will doubtless make someone an excellent wife one day.”
“Thank you, sir.”
She coloured slightly. Perhaps she felt it had been indelicate to discuss matters pertaining to matrimony when I had so recently been disappointed.
“I will go in now, if you will excuse me,” I said.
“Of course.” She curtseyed. “I will come in with you. I am to spend the day here, did you know? I hope we may speak again later. Lydia and Kitty were speaking just now of walking to Meryton this afternoon and perhaps I shall go with them if you will accompany us? I should be very glad of your company.”
In truth, I was glad to have a course of action suggested to me as I was unclear about my role as disappointed suitor, and had been wondering whether it would be most fitting to pursue the unattractive course of refusing luncheon and stopping in my chamber for the afternoon.
Clearly, Miss Lucas did not think that kind of behaviour was necessary, and she seemed a sensible sort of female.
I could not imagine her suggesting an outing that would be thought unfitting for a man in my position.
I bowed. “I should be very glad to oblige you, Miss Lucas. Assuming it does not rain, that is, as I have only one pair of shoes with me and I should not like to get them wet. It was an oversight on my part, I confess. I should have considered the time of year. Of course, I have the dress shoes I wore to the ball but I can scarcely wear those about the place.”
“I quite understand, sir.” She curtseyed again.
“I have not been much away from home myself, but I understand it can be difficult to know just what to bring. But assuming the weather remains fine this afternoon, I shall look forward to our walk and to talking with you further about Hunsford and your situation there.”