Chapter 8

W illiam Collins was about to board the post for London when he heard his patroness’s words in his head. They were so clear; it was as if she was standing in front of him. She had said, “ Mr. Collins, you must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. Choose properly, choose a gentlewoman for my sake; and for your own, 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, and I will visit her. ”

Hearing Lady Catherine’s sage advice playing over in his head, Collins knew he could not fail his patroness and return to Hunsford as a single man. For once in his life, he thought clearly. Why had he been so welcome at Lucas Lodge previously and then rejected earlier this morning? Some things came to mind, all associated with the humiliating ball the previous evening.

First there was his public accosting of Mr Darcy on behalf of his patroness which he was sure embarrassed the Lucases. Then, rather than collect Miss Lucas for the first set, he had been sulking after the setdown Mr Darcy had delivered, and lastly, there had been issues while dancing. Rather than keep Miss Lucas company for the rest of the night, he had stalked away after they withdrew from the dance floor, only thinking of his own embarrassment and not of Miss Lucas.

Even though he thought a lowly knight below him—forgetting the late Sir Lewis de Bourgh was the same rank—Collins owned he would need to return to Lucas Lodge to make his abject apologies and throw himself on Miss Lucas’s compassion.

By the time he inherited Longbourn, which was his birthright, Collins wanted to have at least one son, like every Collins before him, so he would be able to rub the Bennets’ failure to have a male child in their faces before he tossed them from his estate. It was true Miss Lucas was a little older than him, and not the prettiest of women, but she would have to do. None of the three previous proposals he had made to ladies in Hunsford had been accepted, so this was his only chance.

As much as he disliked spending money, Collins took a room at the Red Lion Inn. He washed and changed. Even though he preferred not to bathe, he was aware others did not share his preference, and he was willing to do what he needed to do in order to gain a fiancée.

As it was only about a half a mile to Lucas Lodge, Collins made the walk at a slow pace so he was not sweating too much by the time he arrived. The housekeeper answered the door and asked him to wait. She was replaced by Sir William in not too many minutes. Collins bowed to Sir William. “I acknowledge that my behaviour has not been stellar, and I would like the opportunity to make my apologies to you, your wife, as well as to Miss Lucas,” Collins requested once he straightened himself up after his low bow.

Being an affable fellow, Sir William saw no reason not to allow the man to make his amends for his bad behaviour at the ball. “You may come in and address my family,” Sir William allowed.

“I thank you most profusely,” Collins responded as he bowed low again. He followed the knight back to the sitting room; the same one he had visited before the ball when he had secured sets with Miss Lucas. The Lucas brothers, who intimidated Collins somewhat, thankfully were not present. The younger daughter, who was admittedly prettier than Miss Lucas, but too young for him, was with her parents.

Seeing the odious parson enter, Maria stood and asked her parents’ permission to leave the room. Sir William nodded to Lady Lucas who excused her youngest.

As was his wont, Collins made a low bow to Lady and Miss Lucas. “I thank you for your indulgence. As I told Sir William, I came to the realisation that the way I comported myself at the ball did not reflect well on myself, or on your family either. In hindsight, I should not have approached Mr Darcy on behalf of my patroness, especially now that I know Lady Catherine, who normally never does, erred, in the case about which I accosted him. Then, rather than collect Miss Lucas for our dance, I was licking my wounds after Mr Darcy took me to task.

“Given how I danced during the supper set, I think Miss Lucas was better off not dancing with me.” Although he did not believe it had been his fault, he did realise one caught more flies with honey than with vinegar.

The last thing Charlotte had thought was that the sometimes pompous and not very intelligent man would do was apologise for his actions at the ball. Nor did she believe he would be a little self-deprecating. She had asked her parents to turn him away because she thought he may have vicious tendencies, but it seemed she was wrong. As she had told Eliza, she was not a romantic and merely sought her own home and a man who could support her; Mr Collins would meet her requirements. There was also the fact she was almost eight and twenty and had never before had a man come close to offering for her. For that reason, she was feeling somewhat desperate as she did not want to be a burden to her father and later to Franklin. Charlotte looked from one parent to the other and nodded.

“As is our Christian duty, we pardon you, Mr Collins,” Sir William allowed.

“In that case, may I address Miss Lucas in private?” Collins requested. He held his breath, waiting for the reply.

Sir William looked at Charlotte who nodded again. His wife just shrugged her shoulders. “You have ten minutes to speak Mr Collins. Lady Lucas and I will vacate the room, but the door will remain partially open,” he allowed.

As he waited for Sir William and Lady Lucas to exit the sitting room, Collins decided this was not a time to mention Lady Catherine as championing her interests had almost cost him a chance to return as a betrothed man. As soon as they were alone, Collins moved so he was in front of the lady. With his heft, it was too hard to go down on one knee. “Miss Lucas, almost from the first time we met I marked you as the partner of my future life. Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

She was fully cognisant he had been shifting after the Bennet sisters and for some reason he had decided not to offer for one of them. That made her feel good that she had been chosen over her younger and much prettier friends. It was not as if she was not aware what type of man he was, so she did not expect him to suddenly become erudite. As she had stated more than once, it was perhaps an advantage not to know too much about the man she accepted before the wedding. “Yes, Mr Collins I will be your wife,” Charlotte agreed.

“Once I have your father’s permission and blessing, I need to return to my parish, but what say you to my returning and our marrying in early December?” Collins wondered. “I do not see the need for a lengthy betrothal, if you agree that is.”

She expressed no disagreement. Permission was sought and granted, and before Collins made the walk back to the inn, they had set the sixth day of December, the first Friday of that month, to solemnise their marriage.

A much relieved clergyman strutted back to the Red Lion Inn. He could return to his parsonage and report his success to his patroness. Of course he would not mention Mr Darcy’s having refuted her claims about a cradle engagement. Things would be far more peaceful for him without that information being shared with Lady Catherine.

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

Mr Hill knocked on the drawing room door right as Bennet was about to address his three eldest daughters. “Please excuse my interrupting you master and mistress, but this arrived by express, and you had said you wanted it in your hands as soon as it arrived,” the butler stated after he bowed. He handed the missive to his master and then exited the room.

“Before I continue with what I desired to tell you, Lizzy, I was most displeased with your behaviour at the ball. No, it was not as overtly bad as your two youngest sisters, but from a certain perspective it was worse. Unlike them, you know better.” Rather than try and deny it, Bennet saw his second daughter drop her eyes to the floor. “What on earth possessed you to goad Mr Darcy until you two argued while you were dancing?”

“I did not want to dance with him, and I was angry at his infamous treatment of Mr Wickham,” Elizabeth claimed without raising her head.

“You mean the lieutenant who made an inappropriate disclosure to one he had just met? Are you so enamoured of the man that you take up his cause after hearing only his side of the tale? Since when did you accept a story at face value, especially from one you just met?” Bennet pressed.

To be taken to task in this way by her father was not a pleasant experience for Elizabeth. Until recently she and her father always saw eye to eye. That much of what he was saying she knew was correct, even if she did not want to admit it to herself, was beside the point. “I saw honesty in Mr Wickham’s countenance,” Elizabeth postulated lamely.

“It had nothing to do with your prejudices being ignited against Mr Darcy, which I am told you related to Mr Wickham before he spun his yarn for you,” Bennet added.

Suddenly it hit Elizabeth, Mr Wickham had only begun to tell her all after she had said some unflattering things about Mr Darcy. Had he just been telling her what she wanted to hear? Surely not, she had more discernment than that, did she not? Her conscience interrupted her train of thought, telling her she was looking for ill about Mr Darcy which had opened her to lapping up anything showing him in a bad light.

“It could have been that he told me what I wanted to hear,” Elizabeth acknowledged.

“You know it is written that pride cometh before the fall, do you not?”

Elizabeth nodded.

“You accused Mr Darcy of pride, and he certainly had a measure of it that I could see, but was it not your own wounded pride which would not allow you to look at the situation critically? Were you not guilty of the same thing of which you accused Mr Darcy? Do not mistake me. I am not excusing his words at the assembly, and for that I owe you an apology. Rather than be amused, I should have called Mr Darcy on the carpet and demanded to know why he would slight my daughter in that fashion. Worse, I should have been at the assembly with all of you and not hidden away in my study,” Bennet admitted.

Elizabeth felt like a fool. An errant tear escaped one of her eyes and rolled down her cheek.

“Lizzy, this letter is from your Aunt Maddie, and I think you should read it. Your Uncle Gardiner was here a little more than a sennight ago, and I will discuss more about that meeting anon. What I was told will affect all of you, more than you could imagine. As I was saying, as your aunt is from Lambton, a few miles from the Darcy estate, I requested her to enquire of her friends who still live there about the characters of both Messrs Darcy and Wickham. I know not what this says, however, you will learn more after you read it.” Bennet extended the letter to his second daughter.

Elizabeth tentatively took the missive from her father’s hand. This could prove her right, but she had a feeling she would be the one who had been played for a fool. Did she not tell everyone how her courage always rose? For that to be true she could not avoid reading the letter. She took a deep breath and broke the Gardiner seal.

1 November 1811

23 Gracechurch Street

London

Thomas,

As I told Edward, what Lizzy had written to me regarding Lieutenant Wickham and his tale of woe, did not ring true. Based on what my late parents related to me, and what I know of the family, especially as it pertains to all Darcys, truth and honour have always been their watchwords. I was afraid I would discover information to contradict what Lizzy believes, and as much as I love my niece, she can be rather stubborn, and at times will rely on her own judgement and reject facts which contradict her beliefs.

Aunt Maddie’s words hit Elizabeth with the force of a blacksmith’s hammer striking his anvil. Surely Aunt Maddie was wrong. She was not so closed minded, was she? Just then her memories replayed her reactions to those who offered information which was contrary to what she believed. Add to that the contradictions she had pointedly ignored in Mr Wickham’s tale, not to mention what could only be termed a prevarication with regards to Mr Darcy being engaged to Miss de Bourgh. Feeling shame at her realisations, Elizabeth forced her eyes back to the page.

Unless my niece is open to reading what follows, I suspect she will not be happy.

Mr Wickham was indeed the son of a former steward of Pemberley, and as he told Lizzy, his father was an excellent man. Mr Wickham also was the godson of the late Mr Robert Darcy. That is, I am afraid, where the absolute truth of what he said ends.

Elizabeth felt a cold chill travel down her spine. Could it be that everything else was not factual? She reminded herself she had to read the rest of her aunt’s letter without her preconceived notions and prejudices she had ignited against Mr Darcy.

I am afraid that George Wickham is a profligate seducer and a practiced and accomplished liar. Lizzy said he called Miss Darcy proud and arrogant. From the testimony of some friends in Lambton, she is sweet, but painfully shy, and never thinks herself above others.

One of my friends I applied to is Mrs Robertson (her family owns an estate on the other side of Lambton, smaller than Pemberley by more than two thirds) whose son Luke went to school with the current Mr Darcy. The two have been friends since Eton. Until George Wickham was sent there by his godfather a year after Luke and the young Darcy heir, the latter had been more open and fun loving. Young Wickham who was obviously jealous of his benefactor’s son, did everything he could to cause trouble for the then young Darcy.

Luke’s friend would tell him how his father refused to see the truth of his godson, so he simply stopped telling him. At Cambridge the leaving of debts and seductions began. The Wickham boy would promise marriage, while claiming he was the heir to Pemberley, thus convincing the girls to anticipate the vows. He then left them with the consequences. The younger Mr Darcy paid the debts left by the profligate to try to protect his father.

As you may or may not know, the older Mr Darcy passed away in 1805, when his son was but 22. When others of his age were on tours and ‘sowing their wild oats’ the new master of Pemberley was busily managing his estates.

Now we come to the claim Mr Darcy denied Mr Wickham the living in Kympton. It is true, after a fashion.

Elizabeth felt a measure of vindication even though it was obvious Mr Wickham was the worst kind of man. Her feeling soon dissipated.

A very frustrated Mr Darcy shared with my friend’s son that Mr Wickham had come to see him shortly after Mr Robert Darcy had been laid to rest. Mr Wickham was not happy that all his late godfather had left him was a legacy of ?1,000. He expected one of the satellite estates the Darcys owned. He moaned how he had wasted so many hours paying deference to the late Mr Darcy with no return, other than a recommendation to a living, if he took orders. He then stated he had no intention of ever taking orders and demanded the value of the living.

Luke’s friend told him that he had been relieved as the last person who should ever guide the spiritual needs of a parish was George Wickham. The latter was paid ?3,000 on top of his legacy and signed a document releasing all claims to the living.

At this point I will tell you that even though he left with ?4,000, the libertine did not pay the hundreds of pounds of debts he owed in and around Lambton, and he left behind at least three young girls (14 – 16 years of age) all high in the belly when he escaped the area. Mr Darcy paid all of the merchants and is supporting the two girls who survived childbirth and were cast out by their families.

Now the kernel of truth. Not much more than 2 years after being paid such an amount, the miscreant wrote to Mr Darcy demanding the living to which he had resigned all rights. He was refused.

When Lizzy was told the living was denied, it was a fact, except once one knows the whole of the story, then you will see that it was an obvious twisting of the truth for the purpose of manipulation. The last thing Luke told his mother regarding all of this was that Mr Wickham was very abusive of Mr Darcy when his attempt to extort more funds failed and swore vengeance. Luke knows that something occurred this past summer but when Luke saw him in London, his friend would say not a word about it.

Elizabeth remembered Mr Darcy’s dark mood at the assembly. Could that have been connected to something Lieutenant Wickham did. The tears fell as she could not remember a time she had felt more embarrassed and had been more wrong. She skipped her aunt’s closing and good wishes, and handed the letter back to her father.

“What a fool I am! He played me for a proud silly girl,” Elizabeth wailed. Jane and Mary both moved to comfort her.

Bennet and Fanny read the letter together before passing it to Jane, who handed it to Mary after she read it.

“I had not wanted to believe that such evil exists in the world. Never would I imagine Mr Wickham was so very bad,” Jane exclaimed after she digested the words.

“We all have that which we need to correct,” Bennet stated sagely. “Lizzy needs to be more careful in making judgements. Your mother and I have spoken of our faults, and you Jane, as sweet as you are, you need to begin to see the world as it is, not how you want it to be.” He looked at his second daughter. “Yes Lizzy, you believed a pack of lies, but as long as you learn and grow from this experience, it will be good.”

“Was this all you wanted to tell us, Papa?” Mary enquired.

“No, there is more as it pertains to Netherfield Park. I must admonish you though that you cannot share this with anyone unless one of your uncles or I authorise it.” Bennet looked from daughter to daughter. Each one promised. “First, thanks to your Great-Grandfather James, and then my mother, your late Grandmother Beth, you five, and two of your cousins are to share a rather massive fortune. For close to thirty years, dowries from your great-grandmother and grandmother, plus the income from Netherfield Park…” The more their father told them, the further the three eldest Bennet sisters’ mouths fell open.

“You are saying that each of us has a fortune double that of Miss Bingley’s much boasted-about dowry?” Jane asked in wonder.

“Brava Janey. That is the first time I have heard you say something which was not positive,” Elizabeth cheered. “Unless my sums are off, I think Janey has the right of it.”

“Yes, it is so. But unlike Miss Bingley, we will not be boasting of your dowries to one and all,” Bennet responded drolly. He explained about the protections to guard against fortune hunters who would seek to compromise one of them, and what would happen if they married without approval or, heaven forbid, eloped. “You understand why we cannot mention a word of this to Kitty and Lydia, do you not?”

“We do, Papa,” was chorused by the three daughters present.

“Papa, I know I was overly prejudiced against Mr Darcy, but why do you think he warned no one in Meryton of the dangers Mr Wickham represents to us?” Elizabeth queried. “Was it because we were below his notice?”

“That could be his reason, but he may have other justifications with which we are not familiar. Now that we know this, we cannot leave the neighbourhood unprotected. I will ride to see Colonel Forster, and also speak to Phillips. My suggestion to him will be that he go to the merchants and canvas them whilst I speak to some of the heads of the households from among the four and twenty gently bred families in the area. From them the warnings will spread far and wide. We will not allow that libertine to ply his dastardly trade among us any longer,” Bennet decided emphatically.

Not too many minutes later, he was on his gelding on his way to see Colonel Forster and his brother-in-law.