Longbourn, Two days later…
Mr. Collins had spent most of his time since receiving Miss de Bourgh’s letter in contemplation of the methods he might be able to employ to remove Cousin Elizabeth from Mr. Darcy’s life. Finally deciding on a course of action, and realizing that he had absented himself from society for too long, Collins set himself to rights, determined to get out a bit. Perhaps even visit Meryton. It could only help ease his way into the good graces of the local population. After all, he would one day be the master of Longbourn.
As Collins descended the stairs, he heard a knock at the front door. He slowed his pace, wishing to see who it was. He was pleased to see a gentleman enter with two ladies and a younger man. He took the last few steps faster than he had the previous ones and lingered behind the group of visitors, wishing to hear who they were.
“Mr. and Mrs. Goulding, Miss Goulding, and Master Peter Goulding.” Collins watched as Mrs. Hill announced the family and moved back to allow them to enter.
The housekeeper was startled to turn around and find Mr. Collins right behind her, and she jumped and put her hand over her mouth to prevent her scream from escaping, but he was too intent on the Gouldings to pay her any mind.
Collins knew this was his chance to begin ingratiating himself with his future neighbors. He strode into the drawing room as though he already owned it. Mrs. Bennet’s voice was ringing out a greeting.
“Welcome to Longbourn! It has been an age since we have had a visit. Please, be seated. How was London this season? You must tell us all about it!” She suddenly stopped speaking, seeing her husband’s odious cousin standing near to her. She did not wish to introduce him to her friends, but good manners bade her do so. She was saved from the indignity by the entrance of Mr. Bennet, who had allowed the maid bearing the tea service to come in ahead of him.
“Oh, Mr. Bennet! The Gouldings have come to visit! Is that not wonderful?” She smiled and clasped her hands in front of her. Silly and uneducated she may be, and with an extreme dislike of her second daughter, but she knew well how to relieve herself of duties she did not like to perform.
“Indeed it is.” Mr. Bennet bowed to the visitors. “Welcome back to Longbourn.” Seeing Collins to his right, he sighed inwardly and made the introductions. “Has Mrs. Bennet had the opportunity to make my cousin known to you? No? Then I shall have the honor myself. This is Mr. William Collins. He is my cousin and the heir presumptive to Longbourn. Mr. Collins, this is Mr. Goulding. He and his family reside at Haye Park.”
Collins bowed. “It is a pleasure to meet such a delightful and esteemed family. I was thinking a short while ago that it behooved me to become better acquainted with the neighborhood, as I am to inherit Longbourn, and it would do everyone a good turn if I were to be on intimate terms with all the families in the area.”
Mr. Goulding bowed. “Thank you, sir.” He gestured to his family. “Allow me to introduce to you, my wife. Beside her are my daughter, Miss Penelope Goulding, and my son, Master Peter Goulding.” He looked on with pride as his family bowed and curtsied to Mr. Collins.
Introductions now complete, the group settled in on the sofas and settees while Mrs. Bennet chattered and poured out tea. Mr. Collins was largely ignored by all except one.
Penelope Amelia Goulding was fascinated by Longbourn’s heir apparent. She liked the way he flattered herself and her family as they were introduced, and she thought his person rather attractive, as tall as he was.
Penelope was known in the surrounding area for being…odd. Her interests did not run to the usual things that girls enjoyed; dressing well, dancing, sewing, and playing the pianoforte could not hold her attention. But, neither did she read, or ride, or play chess. Male pursuits were equally disdained by Miss Penelope Goulding. What Penelope preferred was to sit, preferably with someone who had juicy gossip to share, but she was just as happy sitting alone, looking out the window.
Not even her parents understood her. Who could possibly enjoy being so bored, not to mention boring? All they could do, however, was shrug their shoulders. Penelope had been dropped on her head as a toddler by an inattentive nursemaid. She had been knocked unconscious and remained so for several days. To her parents’ great relief, she did wake up, but she was forever altered. She remained happy and cheerful, but took much longer to learn new things and was prone to sitting still and waiting for an adult to tell her what to do, instead of charging ahead into activity as she had before her injury.
This is not to say she was incapable of thinking. She was. She had learned sums and basic reading and writing and at a young age had learned to dress herself. Her governess had taught her how to play hoops, in the hopes of enticing her out of doors for more exercise. Her father taught her draughts and backgammon, unearthing a previously unknown hatred of losing. She won more often than she lost, thankfully; she had an uncanny knack for seeing possible moves far in advance. The only reason she never learned chess was that too many of the pieces moved in different ways and had a different value.
Now she was four and twenty, and Penelope’s parents had spent a large sum every season for the past six years in hopes of catching her a husband. They forced her to work with a dancing master, and to accept when gentlemen asked her to dance. She was rarely asked twice, however. As the seasons passed, she sat out more and more dances.
Not only did Penelope not gain a suitor, she also managed to alienate all the other young ladies and most of their mothers. In addition to remaining single, she had no friends. For, as it happened, Penelope always spoke exactly what was on her mind, with no thought for the feelings of others. She did not set out to be hurtful, and was often confused and upset when other ladies cut her. It just…happened. All her mother’s soothing words and gentle guidance were insufficient to cause Penelope to change, for she simply could not remember to remain quiet.
Penelope, for all that she was passive and inactive, understood that her parents wanted her to marry, and why. She wanted to marry as much as they desired her to; she longed to have children of her own. She loved babies and got along well with the neighborhood boys and girls. And, she knew that the only way to get the babies she desired was to marry.
Penelope could not help how she was and did not understand why no gentlemen called on her. In her eyes, nothing was lacking. No, she did not do the same things all the other young ladies seemed to; she lacked the usual accomplishments, but she could sign her name and could add and subtract. She managed her own pin money, after all, and she was a gentlewoman. It was not as though she was ever going to be required to sell goods at the milliner’s shop or some such thing. But she understood that she was not looked upon with favor by the single gentlemen of her acquaintance and that she was not going to catch a husband in the usual way.
Now here she sat, in the drawing room at Longbourn, gazing upon the very type of gentleman she would like to marry. Penelope ignored most of the gossip that the Bennet ladies and her mother were exchanging. Instead, she watched Mr. Collins and thought about how she might get him to marry her. I shall have Papa force him. But how? Her attention was arrested by a snippet of the gossip she had just heard from Lydia Bennet. She turned her attention back to the ladies.
“…compromised! And he was forced to marry her! Oh, he was so angry, at least that is what his sister told me.” Lydia leaned back in her seat, grinning gleefully at the reactions of her listeners.
Compromised. Penelope rolled that word around in her mind. Though she was looking at the other ladies, who were leaning forward in their seats, eagerly dissecting Lydia’s tale and the fates of the gentleman and lady involved, Penelope’s mind was elsewhere. She understood what it was to be compromised. She enjoyed gossip as much as anyone else and had passed along stories similar to Lydia’s many times. She looked toward Mr. Collins once more as that word bounced around her brain again. Compromised.
All at once, she knew exactly how to make it so that her father would force Mr. Collins to marry her. She would compromise him. She would have to think about how; she was not at all certain what would need to happen. But, happen it would, if she had anything to say about it.
Mr. Collins had no idea that he had become an object of admiration to anyone. He sat on the other end of the room from the ladies, with Mr. Bennet and Mr. Goulding, discussing the war and the Prince Regent. Collins did his best to ingratiate himself with Mr. Goulding, and Mr. Goulding, it appeared, was not averse to being fawned over.
~~~***~~~
Once in the carriage and on the way back to Haye Park, Penelope spoke to her parents about Mr. Collins.
“Well, my child, did you enjoy our visit today? You were rather quiet; I was not certain how you fared.”
“I did enjoy it, Mama. I liked it very well. I liked Mr. Collins very well! He would make a fine husband, would he not?”
“I suppose he would.” Mrs. Goulding turned to her husband. “What say you, my dear?”
“Mr. Collins has an excellent living, and will one day be master of Longbourn. A young lady could do far worse for herself.”
“This is true, but I cannot think that decisions that affect a lifetime should be made after only one afternoon in the gentleman’s company. What of his character? I do not want my girl given to a man who drinks or gambles, or who might beat her.”
“I did not say that she should marry him immediately, Mrs. Goulding. I merely agreed with our daughter that he is a good prospect.”
“He will not marry me on his own, Papa. You must force him.”
Mr. Goulding chuckled. “Force him? I cannot do that. He is a grown man, not a child.”
“I will compromise him, and then you shall make him marry me.”
“Penelope, that is nonsensical.”
Mrs. Goulding intervened in what was sure to turn into an argument. “Penelope, dear, why do you not display your interest and see if Mr. Collins proposes on his own? You remember what I taught you about securing a gentleman, do you not?”
“I must be agreeable and modest.”
“Yes, and you must compliment him. A gentleman likes to know that he is admired. They have fragile egos and must be lifted up, lest they become resentful and angry. Is this not so, Mr. Goulding?”
Her husband admitted that it was so. “I confess that we do enjoy being made to feel as though we can solve the world’s problems. It does not take much to bring a man low. Vain is what we are.”
Mrs. Goulding and her daughter smiled at his honesty.
“We would not have you any other way,” Mrs. Goulding cooed.
Clearing his throat, the gentleman could feel a furious heat in his cheeks, and knew himself to be blushing. “Well, then.” Looking at his daughter, he swallowed down his embarrassment and said, “You will see Mr. Collins at many social events. Put yourself in his path and allow him to get to know you a bit. I am certain that none of the Bennet chits are going to accept him; they are too high in the instep for the likes of Mr. Collins. Even Mary, for all she is the most humble of them, is too full of herself to accept him. I am certain Mr. Collins would not want her, either. She is such a sober young woman; there is no liveliness at all in her. You are far more attractive in personality and in looks. You have just as good a chance as anyone else to catch him, without compromising your virtue and marring your reputation.”
“Very well, Papa. I will do as you say.” Penelope turned to the window. But when he does not notice me, I shall do as I wish. I will secure him!