Chapter Thirteen

November 18, 1811

Hertfordshire

Elizabeth

Upon returning to Longbourn that morning after meeting their gentlemen, Jane and Elizabeth found the house in an uproar. Mama was ordering servants here and there and did not spare them a glance as they entered the house, wind-blown and chilled.

"Oh dear, Mama is in a panic over something," Elizabeth remarked. "Lydia, what goes on here?"

"Papa has announced we shall have a visitor," Lydia giggled. "His name is Mr. Collins, and he is to turn us out in the cold when Papa is dead in his grave."

"That is not kind to say," Jane scolded lightly.

"Those are Papa's words, not mine," the youngest Bennet replied defensively. "Lizzy, Papa wishes to see you in the library."

Elizabeth complied, hurrying off to find her father.

"I wondered when you and Jane would return," Mr. Bennet said without looking up from the ledger before him. "Here, read this."

Elizabeth accepted the sheet of paper he pushed toward her, quickly perusing the pages.

The letter comprised nonsensical ramblings that were difficult to comprehend. She glanced at the signature. "This is from Mr. Collins. Is he so ridiculous?"

"I anticipate he will provide much amusement during his brief visit," Papa chortled.

Of course, Papa would find amusement in the presence of an imbecilic guest. "What is this olive branch he speaks of?" she inquired.

"Is it not obvious, my dear? He wishes to marry one of you," he replied, gazing at her from above his spectacles and wagging his brows. Elizabeth laughed.

"I have already warned your mama that he may have any of my daughters but you or Jane. When she protested, saying you, my Lizzy, ought not to be withheld from Longbourn's heir, I told her that Jane was being courted and you were far too smart to be bound to a fool."

"I am certain she did not like that," Elizabeth said, grateful for her father's interference.

Mr. Bennet bowed his head in acknowledgment. "I could not have her pushing Mr. Collins at you, not when you are being courted by a far more worthy man. Mary is more suitable for him, anyway. I believe I have learned enough of his character from this missive to deduce as much."

"But will Mary have him?" Elizabeth inquired.

"I know not. If she refuses him, I am certain your mama will protest. Her complaints will drive him from the house, and you will not need to be in his company again until I die."

"He is to arrive at four o'clock?" Elizabeth asked, pointing to a line in the letter. "It is no wonder that Mama is bustling about, screeching orders like an angry hen."

"I did not give her much notice. It has provided me much amusement to see her so distracted." Papa was gleeful as he said this, and Elizabeth found she could not like the deliberate way that he vexed his wife.

"I wish you would not provoke her so," Elizabeth said in exasperation. "She will be unbearable all day!"

"Be that as it may," her father said dismissively, waving a hand in Elizabeth's direction. "As long as she does not disturb me here, I find that I can bear her manner with equanimity."

Knowing that there was nothing more she could do, she left her father's sanctuary to find her mother.

"There you are!" Mama snapped. "As much as I disagree, your father considers you too good for Mr. Collins, so you will assist Mary to make herself presentable."

"Mr. Collins is a man of the cloth," Mary insisted. "Outward appearance can mean but little to him."

Mama disagreed vehemently. "Mr. Collins is a man , first and foremost. If you wish to marry anyone , my dear, then you had best allow your sisters to soften your sharp edges and do their best to make you pretty. You will never compare to Jane, of course, or Lydia, but you are certainly more handsome than Charlotte Lucas!"

"Come along, Mary," Elizabeth said resignedly. "I believe I have a gown that is both suitably modest and attractive."

Mary grudgingly followed her sister who dressed her in a dark blue gown. The neckline was high enough, but not as high as Mary was wont to wear. The gown was adorned with delicate lace and subtle embroidery. At her insistence, Elizabeth consented and added a fichu to the neckline of the gown, which did not take away from its elegance. A softer hairstyle completed the picture and Elizabeth stood next to Mary, admiring her reflection in the mirror.

"Smile, sister," Elizabeth said. "A genuine smile will do a lot for anyone's countenance."

Mary grimaced. "I am not sure I remember how," she said, only partially teasing. "It is difficult to be cheerful in a house full of ridiculous children."

"Full?" Elizabeth repeated. "Why, Mary, ought I to be offended? We are six females, to be sure, but I would say at least three of us are not children."

Mary's perpetual frown turned up on the edges, and the small smile did much to soften her features.

Elizabeth beamed at the transformation. "There, do you see? You look lovely."

"But never as lovely as Jane," Mary said bitterly, the frown returning.

Elizabeth shook her head. "No one will ever be as lovely as Jane. She is perfection, inside and out."

This brought another smile to her sister's lips, this one larger than the last. "You are not wrong, sister," she said.

~

Mr. Collins was punctual, and the entire family awaited him in the chill air upon his arrival. Mary had added a pretty cream and rose shawl to her ensemble and looked rather fetching with her cheeks pink from the cold.

Their distant cousin, a large man with brown hair and brown eyes, was neither ugly nor handsome. He was simply… unremarkable. Lumbering toward them, he extended his greetings to Papa and bowed deeply.

"My dear cousin Bennet," he intoned, in a saccharine and obsequious voice. "I am so happy to meet you at last. My dear departed father spoke often of Longbourn and the delights of Meryton. I am pleased that his words had merit."

"Your predecessor never saw Longbourn in his lifetime," Papa remarked. "I wonder where he acquired his knowledge." Mr. Bennet bowed and moved to introduce his wife and daughters, who curtseyed each in their turn. Kitty and Lydia descended into giggles immediately, but Mary smiled warmly at him, causing Mr. Collins to linger a little longer before her. Jane and Elizabeth were polite, but distant, lending a sharp contrast to their next younger sister's warm welcome.

Mr. Collins proved to be garrulous, and Elizabeth soon found herself irritated by the very sound of his voice. Mary stayed near him, fully aware of the opportunity that stood before her. If she managed to win a proposal from their tedious cousin, she would someday be mistress of Longbourn. Such a distinction held little appeal for Elizabeth; she was already courting Mr. Darcy and knew she would never accept her cousin, even if it meant saving her home.

Mr. Collins paid particular attention to Jane and Elizabeth until tea, when he suddenly seemed inclined to keep Mary company. Elizabeth privately told Jane she suspected their mother had redirected him, and for that, she was grateful.

Mama looked pleased with the turn of events, and Elizabeth wondered what excuse she had given Mr. Collins when she directed him away from her two eldest daughters. Jane was easy to explain, but what of Elizabeth? That matter was resolved to Mama's satisfaction, so it hardly mattered. She sat in her chair, a smug expression on her face as she watched Mary engage Mr. Collins in conversation. Mary observed every propriety, seating herself away from their cousin on the settee, but she did not move when the man came a little closer to show her a tract from a religious book he had retrieved from his room.

Elizabeth retired early, exhausted from the events of the day. She felt a twinge of disappointment when she recalled that she would not see Mr. Darcy for their usual walk and would have to wait until the afternoon when they were to meet in the tearoom in Meryton; her heart cheered at the thought.

With her mind filled with the peaks and what it might be like to be Mr. Darcy's wife, she drifted into slumber.