The night of the ball arrived and with it, the odious Mr. Collins. Elizabeth was introduced to the man by her father and she found his gaze upon her person unsettling. The man stared at her in a manner most disturbing.
She remained silent while he spoke, for it proved an easy task with the man chattering endlessly with much nonsense about Rosings and his patroness in Kent. Her mind wandered as his voice droned on and on. She must remove herself from his overbearing presence at once.
How her father had come to agree that she marry the man puzzled her still, save his explanation that day in his study pinning it to his unwillingness to refuse his wife’s wishes, but Elizabeth decided she would enjoy the ball and dance with the soldiers Lydia and Kitty persuaded to attend. There would be time come the morrow to make the man understand she was not to be his wife.
Elizabeth gave a small curtsy to her father and cousin before moving quickly away. To her consternation, Mr. Collins followed her doggedly about the ballroom. Elizabeth turned to him, ready to shatter his certainty regarding their situation. Before she might deliver her set down, Charlotte Lucas appeared and Elizabeth smiled warmly at her friend. She was forced to introduce Mr. Collins and he turned from her to stand quite close to Miss Lucas.
Charlotte seemed pleased at his attention, easily engaging in pleasant conversation with the man and Elizabeth recoiled in disgust. He was no more a suitable match for her friend than herself, but Charlotte was as yet unmarried and did not share Elizabeth’s vow to marry for love.
Charlotte curtsied to Mr. Collins as a young soldier asked her to dance. Thankfully, her cousin’s eyes remained upon Charlotte as she was led away to her place on the floor for the next set.
Elizabeth seized her chance to wander away through the French doors for a breath of air when her cousin’s hand found hers. Blasted man! Would she be made to endure the entirety of the evening in his presence?
His company was most unwelcome, and his words doubly so. “Come, walk with me in the gardens dear, sweet Elizabeth.”
She shuddered at his intimate use of her name and resisted his efforts. He paid no heed, easily dragging her down the stone steps and out into the shadowy grounds of Netherfield.
“Mr. Collins, I believe you misunderstand what has happened since you were last at Longbourn.”
He held up a hand to quiet her. “I am aware of your fit of temper, my dear, but it worries me not.”
He led her through the gardens as though he had a destination in mind. Soon they were standing before a carriage and Elizabeth attempted to release herself from the heavy grasp of his hand. “I must return to the ball. Jane will be worried.”
Mr. Collins laughed heartily. “She will not be concerned. Your mother and father have likely told her of your fate by now.”
Elizabeth ought to have run, his manner and the way he dragged her through the garden to the carriage should have alerted her to the coming assault on her person.
Mr. Collins placed a hand over her mouth and wrapped a strong arm about her before she could defend herself. With the help of the footman, he threw her inside the carriage and when she began to scream, he delivered a clout to her head that sent her reeling. The inside of the carriage tilted in her vision and she grasped at the bench before darkness took her.
And so it was, some hours later, Elizabeth Bennet came round with a terrible headache, her body aching upon the floor of the carriage. The night air chilled her and she trembled. Mr. Collins pulled her up to sit beside him, his face a mask of indifference.
“Take this handkerchief and clean your face. I will not have people imagining I have kidnapped a poor girl from her home in the middle of the night.”
Elizabeth glared at him, her anger rising. “But that is just what you have done!”
Mr. Collins raised his hand again and Elizabeth hurried into a corner of the carriage. Her parents had given her to a cruel man in a most shocking manner. She bit back the furious tears burning in her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat.
She would bide her time and find a way to escape him. Wandering alone at night along the roads frightened her a good bit but not so much as continuing with this wicked man.
Jane searched the ballroom and the terrace for her sister several times, growing more fearful with each pass. She sought her mother and asked after Elizabeth.
Mrs. Bennet smiled and turned her attention from Lydia and Kitty and their dance partners. “Lizzy left some time ago with Mr. Collins. I believe they are on the road to Hunsford now.”
Jane stared angrily at her mother and stomped a foot. “Elizabeth held no desire to marry the man. Why would she leave with him without a farewell to anyone?”
Mrs. Bennet shrugged her shoulders and turned to speak to the lady seated next to her. Jane hurried across the room to Mr. Bennet. His story was the same. Lizzy had accepted her cousin’s proposal and gone to Hunsford with him. Jane knew it to be a lie and searched the room for Charles.
She took his arm and pulled him gently away from a small group of men. “Lizzy is gone and my parents have conspired with Mr. Collins to remove her from Hertfordshire.”
Charles Bingley held Jane in his embrace. “I saw Lizzy leave with him, she did not seem to be under duress. Surely you may write to her and have an answer in a week’s time.”
It was then the ball ended abruptly. Mr. Bennet fell from his chair clutching at his shirt front. Mr. Bingley cleared the room while the apothecary from Meryton tended the ailing man.
A wall of soldiers formed a line to lend privacy and Jane led her sisters to the terrace with their mother. Mrs. Bennet wailed and complained while Lydia and Kitty cried as though they were disconsolate children. Mary was the only one to remain calm in the ensuing madness, much to Jane’s relief.
The carriage stopped before an inn and Elizabeth moved to the door, eager to escape the deplorable company of her cousin. He caught her hand and pushed her roughly back against the bench. “You will wait here, young lady. We are only changing horses and I would advise against any display that would displease me.”
Elizabeth held back the tears and angry words burning in her throat. There was little time to indulge in piteous thoughts as her escape would require all her effort and concentration.
She moved carefully about the inside of the carriage after Mr. Collins stepped down, intent on the inn and his plan. Elizabeth glanced out the window finding the driver and footman busy with the horses. She crept slowly to the other side of the carriage and eased the door open.
Because of her years spent wandering the fields and wood around Longbourn, she was able to jump lightly from the carriage and ease her way to the back end of the conveyance.
She glanced about and listened for the voices of the men complicit in her abduction, but they continued with the horses. She spied a shed beside the inn and decided to use it as a hiding place before rushing into the woods beyond.
Elizabeth waited until another carriage passed in front of the inn and set out at a brisk pace with her head down, her heart pounding in her ears. She hurried along and was nearly beside the shed when strong arms caught her from behind.
Mr. Collins had seen her from a window and hurried out to halt her progress. His fingers dug into her arms as he turned her around. His face was red with the effort and Elizabeth stomped his foot.
He pulled her along to the shed and glancing about, dragged her behind the building and into the shadows. He brought his face within inches of her own and hissed menacingly. “Did I not instruct you to remain in the carriage?”
Elizabeth cringed as the spittle from his lips landed upon her face. He loosened his grip for a moment and she bolted away, running blindly for the woods behind the inn.
Moments later, she was caught by the footman and dragged back to the carriage. She saw Mr. Collins speaking with the innkeeper and began shouting for assistance. The footman warned her to cease her ranting and struggled to place her inside the carriage. Mr. Collins nodded to the innkeeper who appeared most sorry for the good man’s troubles. Her cousin’s bold lie drifted across the yard of the inn and Elizabeth buried her face in her hands.
“She is not well, you see. My poor sister could not provide for her nor keep her at home any longer. I am taking her to live with me, for my dear wife has said we must care for her. Tis our Christian duty.”
Elizabeth sobbed bitter tears as Mr. Collins strode back to the carriage, his face tight but his pace even as the innkeeper remained at the door of his establishment.
Mr. Collins climbed into the carriage and seated himself with not a glance spared in Elizabeth’s direction. He held his arm out the window and waved to the innkeeper, his ruse intact and Elizabeth’s hopes of escape cruelly dashed.
She was safe while they remained in sight of the inn, but once the carriage was back upon the road her cousin’s abuse began anew. His anger terrified Elizabeth and she huddled as far from him as the small space allowed. Her father and mother could not have known the horrid man he was, for they would not have allowed him a moment alone with her if they had.
Elizabeth clung to the thought and prayed she might send a letter to Jane begging for her assistance before Mr. Collins forced her hand in marriage.
Her mind wandered to thoughts of Mr. Darcy and his mother. Jane would surely send word of her situation once the truth was known. Her only hope lay with her sister and in the memories of her happiness at Brambling Hall and Pemberley.
As the carriage hurried along further and further from Netherfield, Elizabeth found comfort in the recollection of her walk in the garden with Mr. Darcy and his mother. Her life had seemed perfect only a few, short days ago. How could she accept her cruel cousin and the horrible life she would lead with such a man?
She decided she would not cease her efforts at escape. Not while there was breath left in her body. Should Jane be successful in sending for Mr. Darcy and his mother, they would mount an attempt to free her from the horrid man. But she must not wait upon them and readily endure the vile presence of William Collins.
Their next stop was his cottage in Hunsford where he led her upstairs to remove the dust of the road from her dress and wash her face. “We shall go directly to meet Lady Catherine. You must not appear as a poor girl from the streets of Town.”
Elizabeth was terrified he might follow her into the small room but he merely stood outside the door, closing it behind her as she entered. She glanced about the sparsely furnished space and hurried to a small writing desk in the corner, hope returning to her eyes as she saw the means to make a letter to Jane.
She wrote swiftly and hurried to do as her cousin commanded. His footsteps pacing the hallway just outside the door left her trembling with fear. There was no one to stop him entering and placing his hands upon her. Elizabeth eyed the pitcher by the basin marking it as a weapon did her situation come to that.
Moments later, with the letter tucked safely into her pocket, she opened the door and cast her eyes to the floor. Mr. Collins inspected her from head to toe and sent her downstairs to sit with Cook whilst he made himself ready to visit Rosings. “Do not attempt escape, my dear. The footman stands at one door and the driver at the other.”
Elizabeth simply nodded although her temper demanded she strike him and take her chances with the men at the doors. Instead, she walked slowly down the stairs and turned at the sound of footsteps approaching. “You must be the parson’s betrothed. I am Mrs. Watts, the Cook for Mr. Collins. Come with me and I shall feed you, miss.”
Elizabeth followed the woman, wondering at her kindness. Her cousin must not have shared his plans to kidnap her from her home with his Cook.
She took the pie the woman offered and ate ravenously. Her fear and her cousin’s disregard had kept her from eating on the horrible trip to Kent and she was grateful to the woman.
“We are off to Rosings in but a moment, I fear,” she said as Cook took her empty plate. “I wondered if you might post this letter for me. My dearest friend is away visiting relatives and I was unable to write her before we left Hertfordshire.”
Cook took her letter and placed it on a small table by the back door with several others. “I must go into the village myself on the morrow. It shall be no bother, miss.”
Elizabeth smiled and thanked the woman for her kindness. She startled in her chair as the sound of her cousin’s heavy foot upon the stairs darkened her small reprieve.