1. Chapter One

Chapter One

November 27, 1811 Meryton Charlotte

M iss Charlotte Lucas walked briskly down the well-trod path from Lucas Lodge to Longbourn. The ladies of both houses customarily met after a ball or assembly to discuss the event and all that pertained to it. That day, however, Charlotte came alone. The late night had prompted Lady Lucas to remain abed longer than was her usual wont. Charlotte’s impatience to speak with her friend drove her from the house without her mother and sister.

She cherished her friendship with Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, despite the disparity in their ages. They shared the same wry sense of humor, the same love of the ridiculous. Elizabeth’s romantic sensibilities differed from Charlotte’s practical nature, however. She saw happiness in marriage as being entirely a matter of chance, while Elizabeth determined she would marry for nothing but the deepest of love. Charlotte mused on these thoughts as she walked, for it was just this topic that urged her onward. Her friend’s cousin, Mr. Collins, made his intentions clear last night. He meant to propose to Elizabeth, and Charlotte feared her friend would act rashly, discarding the offer without considering the consequences of her refusal.

As she approached Longbourn House, a cacophony of sounds reached her ear before she drew close enough to knock. Mrs. Bennet’s shrieks of displeasure were readily heard. Charlotte knew instantly that she was too late to speak to her friend. Mr. Collins, it seemed, had not delayed in offering his proposals.

Mrs. Hill opened the door to Charlotte’s raised hand. “Oh, Miss Lucas!” she said, grimacing. “The house is in an uproar. I fear that announcing you will do little good in drawing the attention of my mistress. Mrs. Bennet is in a right state!”

“Simply point me toward Miss Elizabeth, Hill, and I shall manage the rest,” Charlotte said in commiseration. The close relationship the Lucases shared with the Bennets meant that this was not the first time Charlotte witnessed Mrs. Bennet’s histrionics. There always seemed to be something that caused the lady to have a fit of nerves, though she imagined that this time, Mrs. Bennet had some cause to be upset.

“Miss Lizzy has gone,” Hill replied. “Directly after Mr. Bennet said he would not force her to marry his heir. The missus has declared herself ill-used and gone off to bed.”

So, Lizzy refused him. My conjectures proved correct.

“Good morning, Charlotte.” Jane Bennet approached, vacating the small sitting room just down the hall from the entryway. “How do you do today?”

“I am well, though it seems there has been some excitement here.” Charlotte smiled pleasantly. “Is your sister resolved not to have Mr. Collins, then?”

“She is. You know Lizzy has long wished to marry for love. It is a dream we share.” Jane shrugged distractedly, her eyes sparkling in that particular manner when one was in love.

“Love and affection are desirable in matrimony, but not always practical.” Charlotte had on more than one occasion professed her perspective to her friend. Always, Elizabeth had thought her joking. “Mr. Collins is a gentleman with a living and a handsome inheritance. Turning him away simply because of his tendency to ramble on is foolhardy. Were I in your sister’s enviable position…” She trailed off and glanced at Jane.

“You would marry a man even if you did not like him?” Jane asked. Her tone was all sincerity.

“I am seven-and-twenty. I cannot afford to turn down eligible prospects.”

Jane shook her head. “My sister is not one-and-twenty. She need not accept the first offer she receives.”

“I once thought the same way. Then the seasons passed, and I went from one-and-twenty to on the shelf.” Charlotte shook her head. “You are fortunate, Jane, that your Mr. Bingley has paid you such attention. I have never been the recipient of a gentleman’s affections.”

Jane glanced away. “He is not my Mr. Bingley.”

“Then you had best make him so, before your chance at marital felicity disappears.” Charlotte smiled sadly. Her pragmatic and somewhat cynical view of love and marriage often caused disagreement between her and Elizabeth. Jane did not argue with Charlotte; she merely looked contemplative.

A door slammed somewhere in the house, and Charlotte peered down the hall curiously, looking for the source. Mr. Collins lumbered toward her, a scowl on his face as he ran his hand through his greasy locks. Charlotte winced a little at the sight but plastered a smile on her face. Jane shifted uneasily next to her before curtseying and hastening off down the hall. Charlotte did not blame her; Mr. Collins’s company must be uncomfortable at the moment.

“Good morning, sir,” she said pleasantly. “I had not thought you to be up and about so soon after our late evening. Your dedication to your position as a clergyman does you credit. Balls and assemblies cannot keep you from your duty, after all.”

“Miss Lucas,” Mr. Collins replied stiffly. “The morning is clear and bright, though how ‘good’ it is, I cannot say. I do not know that I can bear to stay here a moment longer.”

“Perhaps a walk will do you good, then,” Charlotte replied impulsively. Inwardly, she wondered at her forward behavior. Mr. Collins was not meant for her. According to Lizzy, the man came to Longbourn with the express wish of healing the breach between his family and the Bennets. Matrimony was his aim, and Mrs. Bennet had loudly proclaimed the night before that Elizabeth was his choice. So certain was she in her daughter’s acceptance, she had not hesitated to assure Lady Lucas that Elizabeth was as good as married. Charlotte might have cautioned Mrs. Bennet against setting her hopes for security upon her second daughter had she believed the lady capable of listening to others’ advice.

Charlotte’s neighbors described her as practical, economical, and useful. Never had manipulating , contriving , or scheming been applied when detailing her qualities and shortcomings. But in that moment, she realized that before her stood an opportunity. Mr. Collins, upset and frustrated, wished to be away from Longbourn. Elizabeth had refused his offer, impractical girl. Who was Charlotte to turn away this chance, slight though it was?

“Come with me, Mr. Collins,” she said firmly. “Lucas Lodge is but a short walk down the lane. Mama will have a fine tea laid out by the time we arrive. It will give you time to recover from your disappointment.”

Mr. Collins looked sharply at her, and she smiled apologetically. “It is no secret that Elizabeth will marry only for the deepest of love,” she said by way of explanation. “I must therefore assume that she has refused your eminently suitable offer of marriage. I am sorry for it. Who would dare to refuse such a man?”

Charlotte winced inwardly. She knew she risked being a trifle brown in her flattery, but men of Mr. Collins’s temperament delighted in the semblance of importance. If she wished to turn his head, she needed to speak to his preferences. This could very well be her last chance to secure a comfortable situation for herself. Her brother John, she knew, would never turn her out once their father died, but how could she burden his household with an unmarried sister when it was within her grasp to remedy her spinster state?

“Tea sounds delightful,” Mr. Collins said firmly. “Shall we?” He awkwardly held out his arm, and Charlotte took it gently. The fabric of his coat felt coarse and strange under her hands. The quality of the weave did not match that of her father’s. She slid closer to his side than propriety usually allowed, but there was not a moment to waste. Mr. Collins was to return to Hunsford at the week’s end, and if she wished to secure him, she needed to apply all the cajolery and flirtatious behavior at her disposal. She well understood the disadvantage of her plainer features—she did not hold a candle to Elizabeth, and even Mary Bennet’s face held greater attraction.

“Tell me of your parish,” she requested, hoping to elicit some intelligent conversation from the gentleman. She knew from Elizabeth that Mr. Collins could speak long about his home and his patroness.

“Hunsford is a valuable family living,” he eagerly replied. “My patroness has seen to every comfort. There are five bed chambers in the rectory, and Lady Catherine determined just three weeks ago that shelves must be installed in the closets. She is attentive to every detail, and her condescension knows no end.”

Charlotte tried hard not to gape. “Shelves in the closet?” she repeated. “Happy thought, indeed.” Why on earth are shelves needed in a closet? Where is one to hang their clothing?

“Your good sense does you credit,” Mr. Collins answered. “Lady Catherine insisted the shelves be installed before I bring a wife to Hunsford. ‘A lady must have some place to store her treasures,’ she said to me. ‘A wardrobe can be procured for gowns and other clothing.’ ”

“Indeed,” Charlotte said lamely. In truth, she was flummoxed. It made no sense to install shelves in a perfectly good closet. The shelves alone were an unnecessary expense, not to mention the cost of a wardrobe. If a lady needed someplace to display ‘treasures,’ did it not make more sense to install a shelf in the room? The cost of such would certainly be less than that of shelves in the closet and a wardrobe.

“Hunsford Rectory has a delightful front garden as well,” Mr. Collins continued. “The back of the house has the kitchen garden and my beehives. I prefer the front of the house, however. It is adorned with all manner of flowers, and I understand the rose bushes by my gate were grown from cuttings taken at Rosings Park. And just across the lane is my patroness’s estate. It is but a short walk to the manor when I have been invited to dinner. Lady Catherine assures me that her condescension will include my wife.” He looked at Charlotte expectantly.

“Oh, yes,” she said hastily when she realized he was waiting for a reply. “Do you dine at Rosings Park often?”

“Lady Catherine insists I dine with her on Sundays. I am summoned to tea once a week to discuss my sermons, as well.”

“Such notice!” Charlotte declared. “Lady Catherine sounds like an attentive neighbor.”

Mr. Collins nodded. Charlotte listened politely as he rambled on about the glazing of the windows at Rosings Park, the formal gardens, and his patroness’s exquisite taste. Her mind wandered as they walked, and she found Mr. Collins only required the occasional nod or similar acknowledgement. Before long, they arrived at Lucas Lodge.

Lady Lucas welcomed Mr. Collins warmly and settled him in her most comfortable chair before serving tea. As she handed the gentleman a cup, she eyed her daughter. Charlotte gave a shallow nod, acknowledging her mother’s unspoken question.

Her father, Sir William, joined them for tea, engaging Mr. Collins in conversation. The topics varied wildly, and Charlotte had the impression that the gentlemen were playing an unspoken game of ‘my horse is bigger than your horse.’ In due course, tea concluded, and Sir William invited Mr. Collins to view the library. The gentlemen departed, and as soon as the door to the parlor closed, Lady Lucas turned to Charlotte expectantly.

“Elizabeth has refused him,” Charlotte said simply.

“You must take this chance to secure him,” her mother insisted. “It is the best and likely the only chance you will have.”

“Do you imagine I have not considered such myself?” Charlotte replied hotly. “I knew how it would be. Elizabeth made no secret of her disdain for her cousin. She is a romantic—nothing less than love will do for her. She has not my experience. Season after season, gentleman after gentleman, until chances have all but vanished. I cannot force a proposal, Mama, but I will do my best to induce Mr. Collins to offer his hand.”

Lady Lucas nodded and said no more. When Mr. Collins and Charlotte’s father returned to the parlor, she extended the offer to dine with them.

“Thank you for the invitation, madam,” the parson intoned. “I am pleased to accept. I daresay I cannot find such exalted company at Longbourn. They can do without my presence for the evening. If you will direct me to a pen and paper, I shall prepare a note. Have you a lad willing to deliver it for me?”

Lady Lucas replied in the affirmative. The note was quickly composed and sent off. “Perhaps you would care to see our gardens?” she said when the task had been completed. “Charlotte has done wonders with the space. She is a dab hand at such things, quite the useful lady.”

“Nothing could delight me more,” Mr. Collins replied. “Though it will likely not compare to the gardens at Rosings Park, I am certain there is nothing lacking in Miss Lucas’s efforts. Not that many gardens could compare with Rosings Park. It is a grand estate, after all. Only the best blooms are grown there.”

“Yes, well,” Lady Lucas answered awkwardly. “Charlotte, take Mr. Collins outside. Show him your roses… and perhaps the little wilderness?”

Charlotte nodded and rose from her seat. She led Mr. Collins outside and into the gardens where she proceeded to show him her favorite plants, the little wilderness, and the stone bench beneath an oak tree where she liked to read. Mr. Collins countered every sight with comments on how Rosings Park was superior and, in the next breath, told her how pleasant and adequate he found the lodge’s garden. Charlotte gritted her teeth against the sharp retorts that threatened to spew forth, cognizant that if she insulted the gentleman, her chance to secure his offer of marriage would be lost. Mr. Collins seemed pleased with her replies, and after strolling amongst the blooms for a time, they wandered back into the house.

The gentleman spent the rest of the afternoon speaking at length to Lady Lucas and Charlotte, regaling the pair with tales of his patroness, her daughter, the parsonage, the parish, and his life in Kent. Charlotte grew restless as he rambled on and took up her sewing. Lady Lucas excused herself to see to the preparations for the evening meal, leaving her daughter to entertain their guest.

“Your stitches are very fine.” Mr. Collins’s constant flow of conversation had lulled, and he moved to join Charlotte on the settee where she sat.

“Sewing is a calming activity,” she remarked simply. “This is my brother’s shirt. He is still young, and ever so rambunctious. The sleeve is torn from climbing a tree.”

“Such occupation does you credit, my dear Miss Lucas.” Mr. Collins nodded pompously, as if his pronouncement held some great importance. “Your skills will be a valuable asset to your future husband’s household.”

“I am certain you are correct.” Charlotte held her breath. Surely, Mr. Collins would not propose so soon after offering for Elizabeth? Yes, she wished him to do so eventually. The situation would be awkward even if he waited a few days, but a few hours?

“Have you other womanly skills?”

“I know my way around a kitchen.” The confession cost Charlotte considerably. Her mama did not wish her eldest daughter’s skills at cookery to be known. It lessened her worth, at least in the eyes of society. Sir William had not always been a knight. At one time, Charlotte had helped her mother in the kitchen, just as daughters of tradesmen should. Once her father’s position in society had been elevated, the Lucases had hired a cook and Charlotte had been forbidden from toiling away in that manner ever since, at least to their neighbors’ knowledge.

“That is an asset, to be certain,” Mr. Collins said. A wide grin spread across his face, and he appraised her closely. “You are a capable woman. Any man would be happy to have you.”

“I thank you.” Charlotte felt her cheeks redden, not from embarrassment or pleasure at the flattery, but in mortification of the memories his words brought to her mind. How many gentlemen had said the same thing to her before turning their attention to other younger, prettier, and better-dowered ladies? Mr. Collins was not to blame, though. Surely his words were well-meant, ill-chosen as they were.

The door to the parlor opened and Charlotte’s parents entered. “I have arranged for the younger children to eat in the nursery tonight,” Lady Lucas announced. “Maria is to join them.”

Charlotte glanced at Mr. Collins and wondered if her parents’ machinations were as obvious to him as they were to her. He did not seem to suspect anything, merely replying, “Children are to be seen and not heard, or so Lady Catherine advises me. Your decision to dine without them is to your credit, Lady Lucas. I am certain my patroness would approve of your management of your household.”

“Yes, well…” Lady Lucas glanced away. Mr. Collins did not know that the Lucases dined as a family unless they were entertaining. Every child, from the youngest to the eldest, joined their parents at the table. It had been this way since before Sir William’s elevation to his knighthood. Their habits were certainly not fashionable, but Charlotte imagined her parents were more aware of their children than others of their station.

Dinner proceeded without incident. For once, Mr. Collins was silent. His mouth was filled with food through the duration, and he spoke only a few words between bites. Charlotte’s mother questioned her about her activities, touching specifically on those that cast her daughter in a good light and as a good match for a clergyman. Charlotte played along with Lady Lucas, hoping that Mr. Collins was paying enough attention to their conversation to take note of her suitability to be his wife.

The ladies separated from the gentlemen, and when the men rejoined them, Lady Lucas offered to have the carriage called to return Mr. Collins to Longbourn.

“I am grateful for your kind offer, Lady Lucas, and I am happy to accept. Your condescension reminds me of my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She, too, never lets me return to the parsonage on foot. She calls her carriage, even during the summer months. Yes, I am pleased to see you are of her nature.”

“Will you return tomorrow should the situation at Longbourn not be to your liking?” Lady Lucas regarded Mr. Collins steadily.

“I think I shall,” he confirmed. “The inducements at Lucas Lodge are manifold.” Mr. Collins glanced at Charlotte, his lips curling up into a smile that was almost attractive.

He left them half an hour later. Charlotte excused herself soon thereafter, feeling unequal to any more of her mother’s lectures about securing a proposal as soon as may be. Mr. Collins was to leave on Saturday. That was not much time to gain his good opinion.

The gentleman joined them the next day before breakfast. Lady Lucas made a good show of welcoming him and inviting him to dine with them. Mr. Collins once again spent the meal in silence, so intent was he on enjoying the breakfast offerings.

Charlotte entertained him throughout the day, and after the evening meal, he joined her again on her favorite settee.

“I hope my presence has not been a trial for you, dear Miss Lucas.” He slid a little closer to her and reached out to touch her hand.

“On the contrary. It has been a pleasure having such an amiable gentleman here these past two days.” She turned to him and smiled, infusing all the warmth and happiness she could into her expression.

“I hope that I may speak to your father before I leave for Hunsford.” Mr. Collins took her hand fully in his and raised it to his lips. He kissed it, and Charlotte struggled not to wince as his affection left a wet mark on the back of her hand. “Would that please you?”

“It would,” she answered. Anticipation soared in her chest. Despite his irritating and dull conversation and his other less desirable traits, Charlotte was certain she would be happy as his wife. A lady firmly on the shelf could tolerate a lot if it meant she would be secure in her own establishment.

“I shall leave you now, then,” he said. “Dream of the future, Miss Lucas.” Mr. Collins stood and excused himself. The Lucas carriage carried him back to Longbourn, and Charlotte went to bed filled with hope for the forthcoming proposal.