Chapter 17

W hen she related all Mr Wickham told her that night before they went to sleep, Elizabeth had thought Jane would agree with her. She could not be happy with Jane's reaction.

"Lizzy! How is it you who question everything, took Mr Wickham's tale at face value?" Jane asked after Elizabeth had repeated the gist of what she had been told. "Were you so hurt by Mr Darcy's words that you accept this as truth without knowing the other side of the story?"

"Mr Wickham would not lie to me, I saw honesty in his looks," Elizabeth insisted.

"And I am not accusing him of prevaricating," Jane returned. "All I am saying is that until you hear from Mr Darcy on this subject, you cannot be sure. I ask you not to repeat this as it could sour things between Mr Bingley and me." Jane placed her hand on her sister's shoulder. "Please Lizzy, for me, hold your tongue on this subject, unless you discuss it with Mr Darcy, which as you refuse to speak to him, may be difficult."

Everything her Janey stated was correct, she had only heard from one of the principals. She knew it would be unfair to decide everything without speaking to Mr Darcy, and that was a quandary. She did not want to speak to him, but even if she did, how was she to broach such a subject? Would she walk up to him and ask him if he had ignored his father's wishes and blasted Mr Wickham's prospects? Of one thing she was sure, she would do nothing to harm Janey, and she recognised if she was the one spreading what she had been told, it could cause Mr Bingley to withdraw .

However, as what Mr Wickham had told her had painted Mr Darcy as blackhearted and confirmed her prejudices against him, she would accept Mr Wickham's words as the truth and use them to justify her continued refusal to speak to Mr Darcy beyond a greeting propriety would demand.

She had to own she felt an attraction to the handsome and charming Mr Wickham. However, as much as she was determined to marry only for the deepest love, she did know love would not feed and clothe her. Especially after Mr Wickham's sad tale of betrayal, Elizabeth was certain he could not afford a wife, and all she had was fifty pounds a year until her mother passed when she would have her equal share of five thousand pounds.

Even if she did fall in love with Mr Wickham, it could never be. Elizabeth cared not for a vast fortune, but there had to be enough to live on. She fell into Morpheus's arms that night feeling sure she had been right about Mr Darcy.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~~

On Monday, around midday, Darcy's courier returned from London carrying the reply from his cousin. It was the work of moments to sequester himself in his sitting room as he broke the seal and smoothed out the paper.

9 November 1812

Dragoons Headquarters, London

William,

As much as I would like to join you today and take care of that bastard permanently, the earliest Major-General Atherton is able to grant me leave is Monday next, the 16th of November.

There is an assignment I must complete before I am allowed to depart London, it is something I cannot write about or discuss, so do not bother trying to interrogate me about it.

I saw Andy on Sunday as he was with Mother and Father after church, and he wants to join me when I come. You know he wants to see Wickham pay for his deeds as much as any of the rest of us. Father wanted to join us, but he is thick in the session of the Lords, and Mother will not allow him to put himself at risk. And oh yes, the sergeants will be with me, along with two other officers. Please confirm that Bingley is willing to host all of us. We would not want to use the inn (if there is one) in the town of Meryton as we do not want to reveal ourselves to Wicky before we are ready to act.

It must have taken all of your self-control to not charge the wastrel and end him there and then, but we do not want you to hang for murder, so you did the right thing in restraining yourself. Had I seen that libertine without expecting to, I am sure I would have run him through first and then thought about it afterward.

Your sister and mine send their regards (I saw them after church as well, of course) and I am so heartened by our ward's recovery.

Gigi told me of the slight you delivered to the woman you obviously admire. Wills, you have to learn to control your tongue when you are discomforted. That is a discussion for another time. It seems you are not the only one with implacable resentment as a personality trait.

If there is any news regarding Wicky, send your courier. If I do not hear from you beforehand, we will see you in a sennight. I will visit your solicitor before I join you. That way he can certify the copies of the markers as true and correct, in case the Colonel commanding the regiment of the militia is doubtful of their authenticity.

Regards,

Richard

As much as he wanted Richard with him sooner, Darcy knew his cousin could not just leave the army on a whim whenever he chose. Until then he would bide his time and keep away from Wickham which would make the man think Darcy was avoiding him. That would add to his feeling of being safe from repercussions.

If all else failed he would allow Thompson his freedom to exact whatever price he chose from Wickham's hide. The aforementioned man was one of Darcy's largest and strongest footmen. He hated Wickham with a passion, as the seducer had taken his sister's virtue from her. The only positive was there had never been a consequence from Wickham's bedding her, which had allowed brother and sister to hide the truth from their parents and family in the area. The footman would never forgive Wickham.

Once his letter was placed in the box with all of his correspondence, Darcy made his way to the ground floor and Bingley's study. He knocked on the door.

"Enter," Bingley called out. Darcy entered and pushed the door closed behind him. "Darce, I assume the letter was from Fitzwilliam?"

"It was…" Darcy gave a brief synopsis of the contents and his cousins' need to be hosted. "If it is too much of an imposition, please tell me."

"Do not be a featherhead," Bingley grinned. "They are all welcome. You must know we have room for at least twenty more guests. For your family and the men with Fitzwilliam, you need not have even asked."

"Thank you, Bingley, However, it would have been presumptuous of me to assume," Darcy averred gratefully.

Bingley waved Darcy's concerns away. "The Hursts and I will be calling at Longbourn in the late morning on the morrow. It is then I intend to speak to Miss Bennet, will you join us?" Bingley enquired. "Do you want me to tell Miss Bennet you have been attempting to apologise to Miss Elizabeth since the night of the assembly?"

"I will remain here and attend to my correspondence," Darcy decided. "Yes, when you have time speak to Miss Bennet in my stead. As Miss Elizabeth refuses to speak to me beyond the bare civilities, it cannot make things worse."

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~~

On Tuesday morning, Elizabeth decided to take Penny out for a ride. As would be expected, the day was cold, but there was little or no breeze, and no sign of grey clouds in the sky.

Soon Elizabeth was galloping across the fields as she made for Oakham Mount. She needed her solitary place to think as she was rather confused by Mr Wickham's distance from her when he had called with Lieutenant Denny and Captain Carter yesterday.

He had been his normal aimable, charming self with the rest of her family, but with her Mr Wickham had been standoffish. She could not account for it; Elizabeth had thought they were on their way to becoming friends.

Lydia had been very happy Mr Wickham had paid most of his attention to her. At the card party she had been particularly peeved Lizzy had kept Mr Wickham to herself all of the night. After the officers had departed the previous day, Lydia had crowed about her good fortune, and how Mr Wickham had recognised her beauty and liveliness.

When Elizabeth reached Oakham Mount, she tied Penny near the rock she used to dismount and remount her horse when there were no grooms to assist her. She trudged up the path to the summit. There were no others there—as was usually the case. Today, rather than sit on the boulder where she watched the sun rise, Elizabeth seated herself on one of the benches under the stark oak which had long since lost all of its leaves.

While she looked in the direction of Netherfield Park, Elizabeth noticed a man atop a large horse galloping across some of the neighbouring estate's fields. At the point horse and rider were closest to the fence between the two estates, she realised it was Mr Darcy atop his big stallion. As much as she did not want to think of him in a positive light, she had to, once again, admit he was a handsome man.

It was so confusing. Not only Jane opined that she could not judge without hearing from Mr Darcy on the subject, but so had Charlotte. The latter had gone further than Jane. She had pointed out the inappropriateness of Mr Wickham making such a disclosure to one he had only just met. As much as she did not want to admit Charlotte had the right of it, deep down she knew it was true. As she sat thinking, it led her to questions of why Mr Wickham had told her his tale.

She could not fathom the reason, so she rationalised that although they were newly met, he had only wanted a sympathetic ear. Once again, she ignored her own logic which told her the trumped up reasoning did not hold water.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~~

Shortly after Elizabeth went for her ride, Collins requested a private interview with Mary. Although Mary knew it was coming and hoped she could make her polite refusal and be done with it, she was aware she needed to be polite, so she assented to the interview. Fanny herded her two youngest from the room—Jane was in the stillroom—and closed the door behind her.

"Mr Collins, although I agreed to hear you, the door must remain partially open for propriety's sake." Without waiting for a reply, Mary cracked the door open.

"Believe me, my dear Cousin Mary, your modesty and adherence to propriety, so far from doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections. You would have been less amiable in my eyes had there not been this little unwillingness to be in a room with a closed door. You can hardly doubt the purpose of my discourse as my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as soon as I entered the house, I singled you out as the companion of my future life." Collins missed the roll of Mary's eyes. "But before I am run away with by my feelings on this subject, perhaps it would be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying—and, moreover, for coming into Hertfordshire with the design of selecting a wife, as I certainly did."

The idea of Mr Collins, with all his solemn composure, being run away with by his feelings, caused Mary to come very close to laughing out loud. Hence, she could not use the short pause he allowed to attempt to stop him from making a greater fool of himself.

He continued, "My reasons for marrying are, first, I think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances, like myself, to set the example of matrimony in his parish; secondly, I am convinced it will add very greatly to my happiness; and thirdly—which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling patroness.

"Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion, unsolicited mind you, on this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before I left Hunsford, between our pools at quadrille, while Mrs Jenkinson was arranging Miss de Bourgh's footstool, that she said, ‘Mr Collins, you must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. Choose properly, choose a gentlewoman for my sake; and for your own sake, let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small income go far. This is my advice. Find such a woman as soon as you can, bring her to Hunsford, and I will visit her.' Allow me, by the way, to observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon the notice and kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as among the least of the advantages in my power to offer.

"You will find her manners beyond anything I can describe; and your intelligence and accomplishments, I think, must be acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and respect which her rank will inevitably excite.

"Thus much for my general intention in favour of matrimony; it remains to be told why my views were directed towards Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where I can assure you there are many amiable young women. But the fact is, that being as I am to inherit this estate after the death of your honoured father—who, however, may live many years longer—I could not satisfy myself without resolving to choose a wife from among his daughters. That way, the loss to them might be as little as possible, when the melancholy event takes place, which, however, as I have already said, may not be for several years.

"This has been my motive, my fair cousin, and I flatter myself it will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing remains but for me to assure you in the most animated language of the violence of my affection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I am well aware it could not be complied with, and that one thousand pounds in the four per cents, which will not be yours until after your mother's decease, is all to which you may ever be entitled. On that head, therefore, I shall be uniformly silent and you may assure yourself that no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married."

Mary had to interject at this point. "You are too hasty, sir," she cried. "You forget I have made no answer. Let me do so now. Accept my thanks for the compliment you are paying me. I am very sensible of the honour of your proposals, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than to decline them."

Mr Collins gave a dismissive wave of the hand. "It is well known to me that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their favour; and sometimes the refusal is repeated a second, or even a third time. I am therefore by no means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long."

"Upon my word, sir," cried Mary, "your hope is a rather extraordinary one after my declaration. I do assure you that I am not one of those young ladies, if in fact such young ladies exist, who are so daring as to risk their happiness on the chance of being asked a second time. I am perfectly serious in my refusal. You could not make me happy, and I am convinced I could not make you so. Nay, were your friend Lady Catherine to know me, I am persuaded she would find me in every respect ill qualified for the situation."

"Were it certain Lady Catherine would think so, that would not do," said Mr Collins very gravely, "but I cannot imagine her ladyship would at all disapprove of you. And you may be certain when I have the honour of seeing her again, I shall speak in the very highest terms of your modesty, economy, accomplishments, and other amiable qualifications."

"Indeed, Mr Collins, you would find me a bad fit with your patroness. I worship God, you seem to hold her above Him. I would not allow Lady Catherine to be the de facto mistress of my house. As such, you must give me leave to judge for myself, and pay me the compliment of believing what I say.

"I wish you very happy and that you find, with the local ladies you mentioned, that which you desire. By refusing your hand, I do all in my power to prevent your being otherwise. In making me the offer, you must have satisfied the delicacy of your feelings with regard to my family, and may take possession of the estate of Longbourn whenever it falls to you via the entail, without any self-reproach. This matter may be considered, therefore, as finally settled." Mary stood and was about to leave the drawing room when Mr Collins began to speak again and it was as if he had heard nothing she said.

"When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on the subject, I shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than you have now given me; though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because I know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject a man on the first application, and perhaps you have even now said as much to encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the female character."

"Really, Mr Collins," Mary cried with some asperity creeping into her voice, "you puzzle me exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as to convince you of its being one."

"You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your refusal of my addresses are merely inconsequential words. My reasons for believing it are briefly these: It does not appear to me that my hand is unworthy of your acceptance, or the establishment I can offer would be any other than highly desirable. I know you are a God-fearing woman who would make the ideal clergyman's wife. My situation in life, my connections with Lady Catherine de Bourgh, my being a vicar, and my relationship to your own father, are circumstances highly in my favour; and you should take it into further consideration, that in spite of your manifold attractions, it is by no means certain another offer of marriage may ever be made you.

"Your portion is unhappily so small it will in all likelihood undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. As I must therefore conclude you are not serious in your rejection of me, I shall choose to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females."

"I do assure you, sir, I have no pretensions whatever to that kind of elegance, if that is how you see it, in tormenting a respectable man. I would rather be paid the compliment of being believed sincere. I thank you again and again for the honour you have done me in your proposal, but to accept is absolutely impossible. My feelings in every respect forbid it. Can I speak plainer? Do not consider me now as an elegant female, intending to plague you, but as a rational creature, speaking the truth from her heart. Mr Collins you are aware my father will not force me to marry where I choose not to, are you not?"

Collins nodded, "But your mother recommended…"

"I will never agree to be your wife. Being a spinster would be preferable to me. If you would like the added humiliation of my father adding his refusal to mine, then by all means go apply to him. I assure you he will canvass my opinion first. For the last time, Cousin Collins, I will not marry you!"

Mary's words finally penetrated her cousin's consciousness. "I have never been thusly treated," he cried as he made his way directly to his chamber to pack. Within the hour he was on his way to the Red Lion Inn to catch the post the next morning.

No one would miss his presence, save Mary's parents, one because he was a source of entertainment, and the other because she hoped he would be her son-in-law. As hard as it was to keep to her promise, Fanny said not a word on the subject to Mary.