Chapter 9

Longbourn

Two Days Later

26 th October, 1811

Mrs. Bennet and her family sat in peace. A milky light sifted in through the window, the heavy wool-gray clouds covering the sky from one horizon to the other diffusing the sunlight into a soft luminance. Mrs. Bennet's knitting needles clicked gently, just out of rhythm from the sounds of the pianoforte drifting in from the music room. Mary alone of the Bennet women was not present, but was at the pianoforte, practicing the Allegro from Mozart's Sonata in C major.

Mrs. Montgomery was seated nearest the door, hemming a petticoat as she listened intently to Mary's playing. Kitty sat beneath the window at the table, her pencils and paper spread around her, and Lydia sat close to the fire, laboring over a sampler. Elizabeth relaxed on the sofa with a novel, quietly contented.

A knock at the door drew all their attention, and the butler stepped inside, followed closely by Darcy, with Georgiana on his arm, and Bingley, with Miss Bingley on his. The butler moved aside deferentially.

"Mr. Bingley and party," he announced, and Mrs. Bennet set down her knitting and rose hastily to her feet, with her daughters following her lead a moment later.

"Good morning!" she said hospitably. "Please do sit down, and I will call for tea."

"Thank you, Mrs. Bennet," Bingley said with his usual, easy bow. "Before I do so, may I introduce the members of my party who have not yet met your entire family?"

"Of course," Mrs. Bennet agreed, turning a smiling face on Miss Darcy.

"Miss Darcy, Miss Catherine and Miss Lydia Bennet. Ladies, Miss Georgiana Darcy."

The two youngest Misses Bennet curtsied, and Georgiana followed suit, and then Mrs. Bennet said, "Might I introduce all of you to my girls' governess, Mrs. Montgomery? Mrs. Montgomery, Miss Darcy, Miss Bingley, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Bingley."

Again there were bows and curtsies, and Mr. Bingley said, "Ladies, I wish to personally invite you to the ball at Netherfield, which will be held on the 5 th of November."

Mrs. Bennet smiled and said, "Thank you! I am certain we will enjoy it very much. Now please, will you not sit down?"

Darcy was not surprised when Bingley made his hasty way to a seat across from Miss Bennet, who welcomed him with an angelic smile. Darcy himself guided Georgiana to an open love seat, and Miss Bingley took her own place next to Miss Bennet, doubtless the better to oversee her brother's unfortunate infatuation with the lady.

"Miss Darcy, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said, "I hope you are well today."

This drew his thoughts away from the eldest Miss Bennet and to the woman who had, peculiarly enough, captured his attention.

"We are very well," he said conventionally, and Georgiana murmured something unintelligible.

"Is Miss Mary playing?" Darcy continued, tilting his head toward the door through which strains of music were floating.

"She is," Elizabeth said. "She is an excellent performer, I think."

"She is!" Georgiana agreed enthusiastically. "I play quite well myself, but I am not as good as Miss Mary."

"Georgiana is a very accomplished player," her brother said fondly, "but she is, of course, somewhat younger than Miss Mary."

"Do you enjoy Mozart?" Elizabeth inquired.

"Oh, yes, very much," Georgiana declared. "I have not perfected any of his difficult pieces, truly, but I have entirely mastered the minuet in D Major. Do you play Mozart?"

"I play some of the simpler pieces on occasion, but not well," the lady said cheerfully. "Mary is naturally gifted and has had excellent masters – indeed our governess, Mrs. Montgomery is an advanced player on the pianoforte – but I am confident much of my sister's skill is a result of her diligent practice on the instrument. I do not devote enough time to become a truly accomplished player, and I am at peace with that as I have many other interests."

"What else do you like to do with your time?" Darcy asked, regarding her with awe. How unusual a lady, to cheerfully acknowledge that her younger sister was far more skilled than she was, and to boldly proclaim her own indifference to being an accomplished musician.

"Oh, I love to read, and I enjoy long rambles on Longbourn land, and my sisters and I spend some of our time helping the tenants of the estate."

"That is very good of you," Darcy said, feeling even more impressed. It was rare for a young lady to assist the tenantry. Miss Bingley, he mused, would almost certainly consider such activities beneath her, which was yet another reason that he would never offer for his friend's sister.

The door opened at this juncture, and servants entered with tea, with Miss Mary Bennet at their heels. Mrs. Bennet poured and distributed with grace and aplomb, Mary sat down next to Elizabeth and began speaking of music with Georgiana, and the conversations continued apace until, five minutes before the visitors were due to leave, the door opened again and the Bennets' butler stepped in with a familiar man in his distinguished wake.

"Mr. William Collins, Madame."

There was a stunned intake of breath from Miss Elizabeth, while Darcy, his brow knitted in confusion, and yes, indignation, rose to his feet.

"Mr. Collins," he said icily, "what are you doing here?"

The parson, who had been bobbing and smiling at Mrs. Bennet, turned an astonished gaze on him, and his smile disappeared to be replaced by open-mouthed incredulity. "Mr. Darcy! And Miss Darcy! And what are you doing here in Hertfordshire? I assumed you were in Derbyshire, at Pemberley, which is quite one of the finest estates in the kingdom, though not, of course, entirely the equal of Rosings, the home of my esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, your aunt!"

Darcy felt his anger dissipate, giving way to confusion. If Collins was not here on behalf of Lady Catherine, why was he here?

"My sister and I are visiting my friend, Mr. Bingley, at nearby Netherfield Hall," he explained stiffly.

"What an astonishing coincidence!" the parson exclaimed. "I am here at the invitation of Mr. Thomas Bennet!"

"I see," Darcy replied, although he did not.

"Mr. Collins is my husband's heir," Mrs. Bennet explained, her tone even though her eyes were narrowed. "Mr. Collins, I will confess that this is a surprise; I had not expected you so soon."

"Did you not? Your own estimable husband sent me a letter encouraging me to visit as quickly as possible!"

Darcy heard a faint huff from Miss Elizabeth, and Mrs. Bennet blinked rapidly a few times before saying, "I understand. Well, please do sit down, and I will have Mr. Bennet fetched from the library. Mr. Stewart, see that a bedchamber is made up for Mr. Collins."

"Yes, Madame."

"Mrs. Bennet," Bingley said, having risen to his feet along with Darcy, "it is time for us to depart. Thank you for your hospitality. We hope to send out invitations to the ball in a short while."

"It was our pleasure," the lady said with a smile, though her eyes were watchful. "I look forward to the ball very much, as do my older girls."

Darcy, who had been distracted by the sudden eruption of William Collins into his life again, pulled himself together sufficiently to turn to Miss Bennet and say, "Miss Bennet, I am looking forward to dancing the first set with you."

"Thank you, yes," the lady replied, composedly and charmingly, but without any signs of particular enthusiasm.

"And I greatly look forward to the second set," Bingley chimed in, and this resulted in a smile of pleasure and eagerness from one of the loveliest ladies Darcy had ever met.

Darcy took Georgiana's arm in his own and took a step toward the door, only to halt as Mr. Collins was blocking it.

"Mr. Collins?" he said coolly.

"Mr. Darcy, I, erm, I cannot believe that my patroness, Lady Catherine, would wish for you to consort with…"

He trailed off at the sight of Darcy's face, which had settled into an expression of arctic foreboding, and hastily moved to the side to make way for the master of Pemberley.

"Thank you," Darcy said drily, and marched out the door with Georgiana on his arm, with Bingley and Miss Bingley some feet behind him, with the former bidding a particular farewell to Miss Bennet.

Georgiana's hand was tight on his arm, and he forced himself to bestow an encouraging smile on her. He knew that she disliked Lady Catherine and was anxious at the mere mention of her.

"Do you suppose Mr. Collins will inform our aunt that we are here in Hertfordshire?" Georgiana whispered as the twosome stepped out of the front door and onto the porch which fronted Longbourn.

"Perhaps," her brother said, "but it matters not, my dear. I am not afraid of her."

The Bingleys joined them at this juncture, and the foursome made their way to the carriage, which was waiting on the drive. As Darcy handed his sister in, he caught sight of a man dressed in the clothing of a country squire limping slowly along a side path toward the front door. Darcy glanced at Bingley as he helped his own sister within the carriage, and asked softly, "Is that Mr. Bennet?"

Bingley followed Darcy's gaze and nodded. "Indeed. Poor fellow."

Darcy, regarding the gentleman, could not disagree with his friend's remark. Bennet was obviously significantly lame, and though the master of Longbourn was some twenty feet away, Darcy's eyes were sharp, and he could see the long scar which ran along Bennet's left cheek.

"Shall we?" Bingley asked softly, and Darcy nodded and climbed soberly into the carriage.

/

Drawing Room

"My dear Mrs. Bennet," Mr. Collins exclaimed as soon as the door had shut behind the Netherfield party, "how can it be that you are on calling terms with Mr. Darcy of Pemberley? He is, as you doubtless know, the esteemed nephew of my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and while I do not doubt the loveliness and charm of your daughters, they are, in no way, appropriate as a bride of Mr. Darcy, even if…"

"Mr. Collins," Mrs. Bennet interrupted, straightening her back, "The Bingleys and their party are new friends, but nothing more. Now, may I be permitted to introduce my daughters?"

The rector's forehead was sweating a little, and his eyes were bulging passionately, but these words calmed him sufficiently that he bowed and said, "My deep apologies, Madame. I should not have … but enough of that. Yes, would you be so kind as to introduce me?"

"Daughters, Mr. Collins, our distant cousin and the heir to Longbourn. Mr. Collins, my daughters Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia. Would you care to enjoy some tea, or would you prefer to refresh yourself? I daresay the servants have prepared your rooms by now."

Mr. Collins hesitated and said, "Yes, that is, it was a rather long journey, and I feel fatigued. Might I rest before dinner?"

"Of course," Mrs. Bennet said, just as her husband entered through the drawing room, his lips twisted sardonically.

"Mr. Collins?" that gentleman said. "I am Thomas Bennet."

"Mr. Bennet! My dear sir, I am so very grateful for your kind letter encouraging me to put forward my visit to Longbourn! I spoke to Lady Catherine, my patroness, on the matter, and she urged me to come now instead of next month; as she said, with her usual condescension, there is no time like the present for a man in my position to seek a wife, and given the beauty of my cousins, I daresay I am a most fortunate man!"

He finished these words with a beaming smile. The expression on the Bennet daughters ranged from one of gravity on Jane's part to genuine horror on Kitty's. Elizabeth forced herself to be silent because she knew her mother would protect them from an unwanted marriage.

"Mr. Collins, let me escort you upstairs," Mrs. Bennet said firmly, and the visitor, after a moment of confusion, allowed himself to be meekly guided outside the room.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Lydia cried out, "Surely Mr. Collins does not actually mean to marry one of us?"

"I have great hopes that he will," her father remarked, limping over to a tray of brandy and pouring himself a dram. "Considering my admittedly limited understanding of the man, I think he is neither wise nor sensible, and would probably take on an impoverished wife based entirely on her pretty face, regardless of her stupidity."

Kitty and Jane flushed miserably, Lydia tossed her head, her eyes flashing, and Elizabeth physically bit her tongue to keep silent.

As was so often the case, Mary came to the rescue of all of them. "I think that perhaps I would be the best candidate for such a position, Father."

"You?" Mr. Bennet demanded, pouring the brandy down his throat and then adding another portion to the glass. "Why would Mr. Collins pick you of all my daughters, when you do not even have the gift of beauty?"

"I am devoted to the Scriptures," Mary said composedly, "and have occasionally worked with the rector's wife when she calls on sick parishioners and the like."

"I think Mary would be a marvelous Mrs. Collins," Kitty said in a quavering voice.

Mr. Bennet drank down more brandy and then hobbled back toward the door. "In truth, I do not care which of my daughters he chooses, so long as he chooses one of you. Anything to have one less mouth to feed!"