As Lady Catherine’s carriage rumbled away from Hertfordshire, the driver having been supplied his instructions from Mr. Darcy as to the speed with which he must perform his task, Mr. Collins sulked as he stared at the passing scenery from his seat upon the bench.
His body was weary from the travel to and fro in the past days and he wished now that he had not spoken a word of his cousin and Mr. Darcy to Lady Catherine. Whatever trouble he wished to spare himself was only delayed by the terrible attack her ladyship had suffered in the parlor.
The doctor from London had arrived before he was to leave for Rosings to collect Miss de Bourgh and the diagnosis of the apothecary had been validated. His patroness would remain in Hertfordshire for weeks until she was well enough to travel home to Kent. In the meantime, he was to fetch her daughter and see that she was safely delivered to Netherfield Park.
The memory of his cousin Mary’s behavior the night before had lit a small flame of hope in his heart but Mr. Bennet had snuffed that out when he refused to make a place for Mr. Collins at Longbourn. It was likely he would never have the woman he truly loved and his efforts to save his own living had backfired spectacularly.
As the miles passed beneath the carriage wheels, Mr. Collins thought how he might save himself and impress Lady Catherine though she lay ill and Mr. Darcy would not allow him admittance into her rooms no matter how he begged.
At Longbourn, Mary Bennet would not come down for breakfast and though both Lydia and Elizabeth went to her door and sought entrance she refused them with anguished cries. “For pity’s sake, leave me be in my shame!”
Mrs. Bennet went to her husband after leaving Hill to sort the dining room after breakfast and petitioned him on behalf of their middle daughter.
“Husband, you know well that we shall not have many young gentlemen seek our Mary’s hand in marriage. Why could you not allow Mr. Collins to stay with us? Certainly he has caused a most terrible calamity but he was correct in his estimation of our Lizzy and Mr. Darcy. Surely you see that?”
Mr. Bennet listened patiently as his wife paced his study carrying on over Mary and Mr. Collins. He was most unhappy with the parson and his plot to ruin Elizabeth to save himself. For that was all he had done! Though his wife was correct with her reasoning regarding Mary, he did not wish to see the man gain the true desire of his heart after having caused such upset for Lizzy.
“Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Collins has shown a decided lack of decorum and caused a terrible fate to befall his own patroness. Why would I wish such a man for our Mary? Tis true she shall likely spend her life as a spinster but that is preferable in my opinion to her spending her life with a foolish man who meddles in the affairs of his betters.”
Mrs. Bennet gave an irritated huff and turned to leave her husband to his books. “His room here shall remain empty Mr. Bennet and if he is cast out of Netherfield, you must reconsider. You have not thought that the influence of our middle daughter with her steady and sedate nature might be the antidote for his impulsivity. At least she would have a home of her own and a life beyond Longbourn where our neighbors shall forever laugh behind her back.”
Mr. Bennet watched his wife quit the room and held his tongue. She was not often right, not by his estimation, but the story of Lady Catherine’s arrival had certainly already traveled among his neighbors. The scene that had played out in the parlor at Netherfield would be added before the day’s end and cause not a small amount of whispers for his middle child to endure.
He decided if the parson was put out of Netherfield by Mr. Darcy, which was truly a distinct possibility, he would offer the man lodging but with the agreement that he must not encourage Mary unless there was a stated offer for her hand.
Before he might seat himself and enjoy the peace of his wife’s absence, Elizabeth crossed the threshold of his study. Though he was always pleased to pass the time with his favorite daughter, this morning he wished to ponder the happenings of the night before and figure how it was that his Lizzy had come to care for Mr. Darcy.
“Father, I hoped we might speak privately. Mother warned me you were in a mood as we passed in the hallway.”
Mr. Bennet crossed the room to close the door behind her. “Your mother accusing anyone else of being in a mood is quite comical as she is well acquainted with frayed nerves.”
Elizabeth gave a small laugh and turned to eye the bookshelves. She often perused their contents when discussing delicate matters with her father. It allowed her the time to order her thoughts without the need for small talk. Not that she and her father engaged in such chatter but the topic at hand leant itself to such banalities before the fight was joined.
Mr. Bennet seated himself at his desk and took the volume that lay open before him into his lap to thumb the pages while he awaited his daughter’s opening words. There was no use in rushing Lizzy when she moved along the shelves for her mind was busy making her argument before her lips delivered the opening lines.
A tense silence reigned and the rustle of skirts and the scrape of slippers were the only indication that his Lizzy still remained in his study. Mr. Bennet was about to begin the conversation when she turned and placed her hands on her hips.
“Father, Mr. Collins had no right to do what he did last evening and neither did Lydia, for that matter. What is done is done and Mary is suffering. I cannot stand it, truly I cannot. When I think that I might be left alone and bereft of Mr. Darcy’s affections…”
Elizabeth stopped as her father’s expression changed and her own mind registered her words about Mr. Darcy. She had meant only to come to him about Mary and Mr. Collins but realized too late he would not leave the topic of her feelings for Mr. Darcy for another day.
Taking a deep breath and placing his book on top of his desk, Mr. Bennet crossed his arms and stared at Elizabeth for a long moment. The urge to flee his study took her but before she might follow that impulse, her father stood and came around his desk to take her into his arms.
“Oh Lizzy, you have come to champion your sister’s broken heart and have exposed your own fears. When did you know that you had fallen in love with Mr. Darcy and he with you?”
Elizabeth had not expected her father to understand so clearly the emotions swirling in her heart and mind. For a moment she was speechless before him. He led her to her favorite window that looked out upon the lane. The last shriveled leaves drifted from the tree that shaded the window and Elizabeth watched their dizzying descent as she regained her composure.
“Father, I cannot say. At the assembly, when he spoke his insult, I was amused by it and not truly offended. I found him insufferable at best and still I was able to laugh and jest over it that same night. At Lucas Lodge, he wished to dance and Charlotte encouraged me to be kinder to him and Jane, the dear that she is, spoke highly of him and warned me not to judge him harshly. When Jane went to Netherfield in the rain and became sick, I did not think of him as I dashed outside and took to the fields between Longbourn and Netherfield, I only wanted to tend my sister. But in that fortnight, he allowed me to know him better. He gave an apology for the insult and defended me against the barbs of the Bingley sisters on several occasions. Somewhere in all that time, I came to think he was not so terrible after all.”
Mr. Bennet had listened patiently and now his eyes twinkled merrily. “When you spoke of him just now, your face lit up Lizzy. It was like the sun moved from behind a cloud and kissed your cheeks. Let there be no doubt that you are indeed in love with the man. What shall you do?”
Elizabeth's face grew hot at her father’s words and she wondered what he meant. “What might I do father? His aunt lies gravely ill at Netherfield because of the actions of my sister and my cousin.”
Though she tried to hide the shaking of her voice and the tears that burned her eyes, Mr. Bennet pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. “Dear Lizzy, you must not think Mr. Darcy believes you to be unworthy of his love because of the actions of your family. Do you feel any less adoration for him after meeting his aunt and enduring her anger?”
Elizabeth knew she did not. Mr. Darcy was not responsible for the behavior of his family any more than she was for hers. Hugging her father fiercely, Elizabeth breathed deeply and turned the conversation back to Mary’s plight much to her father’s chagrin.