Chapter 15

Longbourn

The Next Morning

29 th October, 1811

Mrs. Bennet's needles clicked industriously, the ball of yarn at her feet shrinking in small rapid jerks as a tiny sock took shape in her hands. Mrs. Green, one of the tenant wives, had just birthed another baby, and with five older children still in the house, she did not have time for much knitting. Mrs. Bennet enjoyed knitting, as she always found the rhythmic motions soothing when she was feeling especially ruffled or anxious.

And she was feeling particularly anxious today. Mr. Collins was becoming a problem with the way he was hovering over Elizabeth, paying her clumsy, fulsome compliments and fawning over her beauty. Such a union would be a disaster, Mrs. Bennet knew. Elizabeth would loathe every minute of her life with the man, and it could not be permitted to happen.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. Mrs. Bennet looked up, and her heart sank as the visitor himself bounced into the room, beaming.

"Mr. Collins!" the lady of Longbourn said, setting her knitting aside and producing a smile. "How are you today?"

"My dear Mrs. Bennet, I slept exceptionally well, thank you! The guest chamber's bed, and furnishings, and curtains, and carpet, are all as much as I desire or hope for. You are to be congratulated."

"Thank you," the lady said in a sedate tone. There was every chance, of course, that Mr. Collins was looking upon the various accouterments of the guest chamber, and the drawing room, and the dining room, and everything else, with the avaricious eye of a man who would one day inherit the estate.

"I wish to speak to you," the gentleman continued importantly, "on a matter of great import which will, I hope, bring pleasure to your family and, in particular, to one of your fair daughters. I have, in fact, come to Longbourn with the express intention of wedding one of my female cousins, the better to succor your family when Mr. Bennet meets his Maker."

He paused, obviously waiting for some kind of cry of joy, but Mrs. Bennet merely maintained her smile and said, "That is very kind. May I ask…?"

"My reasons for marrying are," the clergyman interrupted, "first, that 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 honor of calling patroness. Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion – unasked too! – on this subject. Only a week ago, one night when I was invited to dine, which I very often am, you know, she said, ‘Mr. Collins, you must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. Choose properly, choose a gentlewoman formysake, and for yourown, and let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small income go a good way. This is my advice. Find such a woman as soon as you can, bring her to Hunsford, an d I will visit her.' Allow me, by the way, to observe, my dear Mrs. Bennet, 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. My wife will find my patroness's wisdom, and manners, and patience beyond anything I can describe!"

He stopped and took a turn around the room, obviously too overcome by his adulation of Lady Catherine to continue speaking.

Mrs. Bennet watched him, her hands folded in her lap and her unhappiness hidden behind a serene mask. She did not think it would be helpful if she spoke her thoughts aloud, specifically that Lady Catherine sounded autocratic and meddlesome and thoroughly irritating. Furthermore, the parson himself was tiresome, and would bore anyone who wished for intellectual stimulation from their spouse.

But though he was an oaf, Mr. Collins gave no indication that his tongue and temperament were vicious. He would likely be a kind husband, if a foolish one. Mrs. Bennet did not like the idea of Mary living under the tyranny of Lady Catherine, but her third daughter was sensible, despite her young age. If anyone could handle an autocratic old woman, it would be placid Mary.

As little as Mrs. Bennet cared to admit it, Kent might well be a kinder home to Mary than Longbourn was. The house of Mary's nativity was not a happy place for her, and as a wife – rather than merely a third daughter – she might have more autonomy and freedom to pursue her own joys.

"I have spoken to Mr. Bennet regarding my purpose here," Mr. Collins said before his hostess could broach the subject of Mary. "He said that in his view, Miss Elizabeth would be the best wife for me, that she is intelligent, and lively, and would be entirely pleasing to Lady Catherine. Therefore, I have every intention of continuing my courtship of Miss Elizabeth in the coming days and will, I hope, have the great pleasure of carrying her off to Kent and installing her as mistress of the parsonage at Hunsford. I must assure you that to fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and shall make no demand of that nature on Mr. Bennet, since I am well aware that it could not be complied with…"

"Mr. Collins," Mrs. Bennet said with sufficient sharpness that the man stuttered to a halt and stared at her, open-mouthed.

"Mr. Collins," she repeated more gently. "Please, do sit down and let us speak of this in more detail. Would you care for some tea?"

"No, thank you. That is very kind but, erm, I was wondering where I could find my fair cousin at this hour?"

"I am not entirely certain where my older daughters are at the moment, but I need to speak to you of Elizabeth. As her mother, I am confident that she is not the best wife for you."

Mr. Collins's eyes widened, and his plump cheeks bulged in obvious confusion, and he fell more than sat on a nearby chair. "But Mr. Bennet said that she would be ideal!"

"Yes," the lady replied and shrugged delicately, "but you must know how it is, sir! My husband does not remotely spend as much time with our daughters as I do! Elizabeth is a fine young woman, but she is not nearly as mature as Jane and Mary, and I fear would not be an appropriate choice for such an important role as your wife and the mistress of the parsonage. She is impulsive, and tempestuous, and almost certainly would not be pleasing to your esteemed patroness."

She subsumed any feeling of guilt at these derogatory remarks about Elizabeth. It was true that Elizabeth would not be a good wife for Mr. Collins because she was far too intelligent and spirited to survive marriage to such a dull and absurd man.

"But Mr. Bennet," Mr. Collins said forlornly, and then shook his head, cogitated, and continued, "If Miss Elizabeth is not suitable, well, I daresay Miss Bennet should be my wife. Indeed, I initially thought as much, as she is the eldest, and by right of birth ought to be the next mistress of Longbourn."

"Jane is indeed a most charming young woman," Mrs. Bennet replied, "and far more sedate than her younger sisters, however she is being pursued by Mr. Bingley of Netherfield Park, and I do not think it would be at all respectful for Jane, who has been accepting Mr. Bingley's attentions, to cast him aside so crudely."

"But surely, Mrs. Bennet – Mr. Bingley is indeed a fine young man, but there is no certainty at all that he will offer for my fair cousin! I am prepared to make Miss Bennet my wife, to give her a home, to provide her with everything she would need materially. More than that, she would have the great honor of sitting under the endless wisdom of Lady Catherine de Bourgh! I am confident that Mr. Bingley, who seems a sensible gentleman, would understand her accepting my suit when there has been no formal courtship or engagement."

He stared at his hostess, blinking his eyes rapidly, while Mrs. Bennet's thoughts raced. She could, of course, be blunt and tell the man that neither Jane nor Elizabeth would ever accept his offer. But due to his sheer stupidity, and given Mr. Bennet's determination to marry one of his daughters off, and since Jane was the most beautiful of them all, it was unlikely that Collins would listen to reason.

"I daresay he would," Mrs. Bennet mused, thinking hard.

Her guest stared back, quivering with eagerness, with an ardent look in his eye. Mrs. Bennet knew that look, knew it well – it was not surprising, though it enraged her. Mr. Bennet had worn that very look when he had first danced with young Fanny Gardiner at a ball in Meryton. Why was it that men were so focused on the outward appearance of a woman that they did not bother to consider whether the woman in question was a good match?

"Sir," she said softly and made a point of glancing at the door, which was shut, "I understand that Mr. Darcy has been paying my Jane some attention."

Collins's eyes bugged out. "Surely you do not … my cousins assured me that Mr. Darcy is not at all interested in Miss Bennet!"

"I am only an old woman, of course," Mrs. Bennet continued deprecatingly, "but I know how men's minds work. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley are very close friends, and I do not think that the former will pursue Jane when his friend is so attentive. But if Jane says that she is betrothed to you instead – well, I fear that Mr. Darcy, well, Jane is perfectly lovely – he might be tempted to pursue Jane and that would not be good for everyone. I fear Lady Catherine would be most displeased."

She produced a wry smile and held her breath. This might backfire dreadfully, but Mr. Collins was a stupid man. It might work.

"But surely if Miss Bennet were engaged to me, Mr. Darcy would not…," Mr. Collins began, his brow wrinkled in confusion.

"He should not," Mrs. Bennet finished in a low tone, raising her eyebrows significantly, "but you never know. I am confident that Mr. Darcy is an estimable gentleman; he must be given his antecedents! But when a young man admires a young woman, particularly one of a lower class, it is just possible that he might, well, peculiar and unseemly things can happen, and again, I would not wish for your patroness to be distressed, or Miss de Bourgh, who is currently living at Netherfield."

Collins gulped and turned slightly pale at these words. A moment later, he heaved a mournful sigh and shook his head. "That is a great pity, but I quite see your point, Madame. I would not, for anything in the world, cause trouble for Lady Catherine. Well, if neither of my two eldest cousins are appropriate…"

"Perhaps Mary would suit? From the time you arrived here, I thought that she, of all my daughters, would be the best wife for you. She is devoted to the Scriptures and has spent substantial time both in the kitchen and in helping the tenant wives. I am confident that she would be an excellent clergyman's wife."

"Yes," the rector agreed, though mournfully.

"I know what you are thinking, Mr. Collins. Mary is not as beautiful as her sisters, but if you do not compare her to Jane and Elizabeth, I believe you will find her to be quite pretty. In any case, I am certain that you will be far happier with a wife whose temperament suits your own."

The clergyman had flushed red at the open acknowledgement of Mary's lack of beauty, but he nodded and said, "I appreciate your advice very much. Thank you."

"Thank you , Mr. Collins," Mrs. Bennet returned brightly.