Four hours later, Penelope Goulding had been overrun with frustration. She had taken the presence of Mr. Collins in the house as a divine confirmation that he was to be her husband. To that end, she strove to be as near to him as possible at all times. She managed to maneuver herself into the seat beside him at dinner, and again after the men returned to the ladies. She attempted conversation with him on every topic she could think of, to the detriment of the guest on the other side of her, who happened to be Mary Bennet.
Penelope and Mary, though a few years separated in age, had been friends of a sort for many years. Not bosom-friends, but rather the ones who ended up seated together at every event because no one else wished to partner with them. Their intellects were as different as night and day, Penelope not being very bright and Mary being highly intelligent and an earnest student. Their similarity in the social aspect of life was the glue that held their tenuous friendship together. All this being said, Mary often wondered how Penelope got along in life without an intelligent thought in her head; therefore, Mary was not at all offended that her erstwhile friend threw her over for her ridiculous cousin.
Despite all of Penelope’s efforts, Mr. Collins barely acknowledged her. If she did not know better, she would think it Mrs. Darcy who had all of the man’s attention.
Finally, Penelope had had enough. She knew her parents might not be pleased, but if she could not gain Mr. Collins’ attention, she had no way to charm him. She must compromise him.
Mr. Collins, his attention on his cousin Elizabeth and his plans to take her away, paid no attention to the young lady who sat beside him. She seemed to be everywhere; he had hardly moved without Miss Goulding appearing at his elbow. Under other circumstances, he would make it a point to flatter her and her mother delicately, but this night he had a more serious purpose.
As all evenings do, this one eventually ended. Netherfield’s guests retired to their rooms, happily exhausted after their afternoon and evening of visiting and dining. Only two did not fall into their beds and immediately to sleep.
~~~***~~~
Mr. Collins waited quietly in his assigned room for the rest of the house to settle down for the night. He had readied himself for bed with the help of Bingley’s valet, who, along with Darcy’s, was doing double-duty and helping the gentleman visitors. Once the servant was gone, Collins re-dressed. He needed to explore the house a bit, in part to find Elizabeth’s room and in part to find the back stairs so he could sneak her out of the house.
Once silence fell, Mr. Collins took his candle and exited his room. He had been settled into the guest wing along with the Gouldings and Bennets. Creeping quietly down the hall, he turned when he reached the end, having noted earlier the direction in which his cousin and her husband went when the party retired.
Relieved to find no footmen on duty in that part of the house, Collins first traversed the length of the hall. Finding the back staircase was no hardship; it was at the far end of the wing, a tapestry hanging across the entrance to hide it. That part of his plan complete, Mr. Collins retraced his steps; he now must find Elizabeth. Pausing in place for a moment, he pondered the best method. This was the family wing; in it were housed Mr. Bingley, as well as the Darcys. Assuming they were all suites of at least two rooms, Collins realized that he could be at this a while, for there was at least a score of doors on each side of the hall. Taking a deep but silent breath, he began with the room closest.
Ten minutes later, Mr. Collins was left befuddled. Several of the doors had been locked to the hallway. That was no surprise; anyone assigned to that wing was likely sleeping. He did not wish to wake anyone but Elizabeth. His quest had made a strange and unexplainable discovery that left him uncertain where in the house Mrs. Darcy might be.
Collins had discovered, after going through one of the doors, a lady’s dressing room. There had been a closet full of fine gowns, a table of lotions and hair pins, and a chair draped in a gown and a pair of fine silk stockings that he could not resist picking up and rubbing against his cheek. When he had Elizabeth alone and away from Netherfield, he would have to make certain she wore them for him; he put them in his pocket.
Realizing the time he was wasting in pondering what must be his cousin’s apparel, Collins crept to the only other door in the room. To his surprise, the bed was empty. Not only that, the door to the next room was locked. Where can she be? For the life of him, he could not figure it out. After a few more minutes of scratching his head, he gave up and made his way back to his room. He would have to think of something else.
~~~***~~~
While Mr. Collins was putting his plan into action, so was Penelope Goulding. She had allowed the maid assigned to her to help her prepare for bed, then claimed a desire to read by the fire for a while and dismissed the girl. Of course, Penelope was not a reader, and her declaration was a ruse. No one must know what she was about to do until the time was right.
Once the girl had gone, Penelope peeked out the door into the hallway. She was perplexed to see her quarry slinking down the hall, candle in his hand. This unexpected wrinkle caused her to close the door and retreat again to her chair to think. She could not imagine why Mr. Collins was creeping about at night. Whatever his reason, it would be hours before he was asleep and therefore, her plans must be adjusted. She had hoped to have the deed done early, but that was obviously not going to happen. She didn’t even know when he would return to his room.
Eventually, Penelope decided to sneak into his bedchamber and await him. She, therefore, slunk across the hall and into Mr. Collins’ room. Fortuitously, there was a chair tucked behind the open door between his bedroom and dressing room. It was there she sat, snuffing her candle and setting it on the floor. She tucked her feet up under her legs, covered them with her nightgown, and settled in to wait. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep.
It was her prey stumbling back into his room that awakened her not long after. She remained still and quiet, listening intently as Mr. Collins changed his clothes and climbed into bed. When she heard his snores, Penelope made her move.
Moving carefully, she crept across his room to stand beside the bed. Though it was completely dark in the room, she sensed, from the direction whence his heavy breaths emanated, that he was on the far side of the wide mattress. With caution, she lifted the sheet and coverlet and slid in, alert for any indication that Mr. Collins may have awakened. When he continued in his apparently peaceful slumber, Penelope began to relax and soon she, also, was slumbering.
~~~***~~~
Sometime in the night, Penelope and Collins both rolled to the center of the bed. Cuddled together and dreaming, neither was aware that what they were doing was not part of their nocturnal fantasies but was, instead, the real thing. Any bit of consciousness that emerged was lost, first in the feelings of ecstasy and then in the slumber of their satiation.
~~~***~~~
Upon retiring to his bed, Mr. Collins had once again rubbed Elizabeth’s stockings on his cheek before falling into a deep sleep. His night thereafter was filled with wonderful dreams of making his cousin his in every way. The realism of some of the dreams made his unconscious self marvel; he swore he could smell Elizabeth and taste her lips. Unwilling to give up such delightful visions, he fought alertness as long as he could.
~~~***~~~
Penelope finally woke to the sound of feet moving in the hallway outside the bedroom door. At first disoriented at the feel of a heavy arm over her waist and a large presence at her back, she quickly recalled her plan, and exactly where it was that she lay. Smiling at the thought that her plan had succeeded, she snuggled back into her soon-to-be-husband and waited for the culmination of her scheme.
Said culmination came not a quarter hour later. Mrs. Goulding, knowing her daughter’s habits well, had come to Penelope’s room to walk with her to the dining room so they could break their fast together. When Penelope did not answer her knock, Mrs. Goulding tried the knob. Her alarm at not finding her child within was great. She rushed into the hallway, at the same time that her husband quit their rooms.
“Mr. Goulding,” the urgency in her voice bringing him to a stop, “Penelope is not in her room!”
“What? Surely you jest. Where else could she be? Did you look in her dressing room?”
“Yes, I did. She is not there. Where can she be?” Mrs. Goulding wrung her hands as she looked up and down the hall as though Penelope might be there.
“Let me look for myself.” Mr. Goulding was one of those gentlemen who believed that all women were prone to hysterics and that if one was anxious, it was because she was not intelligent enough to examine all aspects of the issue at hand. Within a few minutes, however, he was forced to admit that Mrs. Goulding had reason for a fit of nerves.
Pulling the door to the hallway shut to afford them some privacy, Mr. Goulding inquired of his spouse if she had any ideas. A few minutes of conversation brought to the recall of both what Penelope had said of Mr. Collins and her desire to compromise him.
“Oh, no, she did not!” Mr. Goulding fairly roared. “I will, I will- I do not know what I will do, but I will do something! I knew your daughter was intractable, but this is simply beyond the pale!”
“My daughter? She is your daughter, as well. Do not go thinking you are going to blame me for this. You had every bit as much of a hand in raising her as I did.”
“Hmph.” Mr. Goulding knew she was right but was not about to admit it. “Let us find Collins’ room before we jump to conclusions.”
Stepping once more into the hall, Mr. Goulding hailed Mr. Bingley’s valet, who he knew was also assisting Mr. Collins. After a brief interview, he allowed the man to go on his way. Mrs. Goulding then joined him.
“Collins’s chamber is here and the servant said he has not yet rung the bell; come, let us wake him up.” Goulding had gestured to a door on the other side of the hall and down a couple doors from Penelope’s.
Not two minutes later, after a firm knock on the door to Mr. Collins’ room, a shriek emanated from within. His eyes growing wide, Goulding grasped the knob to fling open the door. When it would not turn, as it could not because it was locked, he stepped back, lifted his foot, and kicked the door in. The heavy wood gave far more easily than one would think, but Mr. Goulding was built similarly to Mr. Collins: he was tall and heavy looking, though on the elder man it was the solidity of muscle that gave him that appearance, for he was a gentleman who enjoyed physical activity.
As the door flung into the room and slammed against the wall, Mr. Collins leaped out of his bed. His shock and alarm at having found Miss Goulding in his arms a few minutes ago were compounded by the fright of her red-faced father charging into his room.
“What is this?” Mr. Goulding roared. “Penelope, what have you done? And you, sir! Why is my daughter in your bed?”
As Mr. Collins began proclaiming his innocence, Penelope calmly explained that her father’s advice had not worked. Mr. Collins had not given her a second’s notice in the last week; she would not receive an offer of marriage from a gentleman who did not even see her. Therefore, she informed the group, she had taken matters into her own hands.
“No one is about as of yet. Perhaps this can all be ignored.” Mrs. Goulding, while desiring her daughter to be happy, which meant marriage, did not like to see her husband so angry. Her statement was meant to calm his temper more than anything.
“No, Mama, it cannot.” Penelope rose from the bed and pulled back the covers to expose the evidence. “We must marry.”