Defending Elizabeth Page 4

  Mr. Collins looked stunned. Elizabeth reflected he had probably rarely had the experience of a woman not being charmed by his good looks.

  "Miss Elizabeth, perhaps you should keep in mind that offers for you Bennet girls have not been forthcoming."

  The fire in Elizabeth's eyes was stoked. "How dare you imply there is anything wrong with my family!" She was allowed to find fault with them, but he certainly was not. "You cannot deny Jane is beautiful, or Lydia charming, or Kitty sweet, or Mary pious."

  At the last statement, a thought occurred to Elizabeth.

  "Have you considered Mary? She may well be receptive to a proposal from you. She is bright and well-mannered and godly. She has many characteristics which would benefit her as a parson's wife."

  A look of distaste came over Mr. Collins' face, and Elizabeth had to still her hand to keep from slapping him.

  "I do not think Miss Mary is the proper wife for me."

  "Have you even spoken to her? I do not recall you having spent much time with her at all."

  "I do not need to spend time with her to ascertain she is not suitable."

  "You make your meaning perfectly clear, sir."

  Both of them were silent for a moment before Mr. Collins spoke again.

  "You do, however, make an excellent point about the fitness of either Miss Kitty or Miss Lydia to be my wife. Perhaps I have not given them the consideration they are due."

  Elizabeth resisted the urge to reply with a cutting comment about how Mr. Collins' only criterion for marriage seemed to be the lady's physical beauty. She did not want to push Mary on a man who might never appreciate her finer qualities. At least Kitty and Lydia would be delighted to be decorative objects, and not resent the fact they were not married for their minds.

  Mr. Collins bowed. "I thank you, Miss Elizabeth, for showing me the error of my first choice. I hope I shall have your support for whichever of your sisters I choose?"

  "As long as you treat them with the respect they deserve," Elizabeth said shortly. "They may be frivolous, but they are my sisters and I will not see them hurt."

  "You have my word," he said, and walked to the door of the room. As he opened it, it was quite clear that Mrs. Bennet and her other daughters had been listening to the conversation.

  "Good morning, Mr. Collins," said Lydia, curtsying and smiling beguilingly so her dimples showed. "Is it not a lovely day?"

  "Indeed it is," he said, looking at her intently. "Quite lovely indeed."

  * * *

  The next few days were calmer than the previous one. Elizabeth was relieved Mr. Collins no longer singled her out for attention. Kitty and Lydia fought to be the recipients of that attention. Nothing else out of the ordinary occurred. Elizabeth was just beginning to feel things might, at some point, return to normal when Jane received a letter.

  Lydia intercepted the letter as soon as it arrived.

  "Jane!" she called. "There is a letter here. From Netherfield!"

  Jane rushed down the stairs, hope shining from her face. It had been some time since she heard from any of the Bingleys, and she was anxious to see what news the letter contained.

  Her sisters watched her intently as she broke the wax seal and opened the letter. Elizabeth, at least, attempted to be discreet, but the rest of the house appeared content to outright stare at her. Jane's eyes continued to sparkle with hope as she began the letter, but her look soon turned to one of shock.

  "What is the matter? What happened?" Mrs. Bennet demanded. "Jane, why do you look so pale?"

  "Mr. Bingley has left Netherfield," Jane whispered.

  "Is that all, silly girl?" said Mrs. Bennet. "He shall be back soon enough."

  "I do not think he shall," Jane replied. "This letter from Miss Bingley makes it clear they are returning to town and have no immediate plans to return."

  Mrs. Bennet blanched as pale as Jane.

  "This cannot be," Mrs. Bennet said. "No, it certainly cannot be. It must be a misunderstanding. Jane, you must be misreading the letter. Give it here and let me see."

  "Mama, the letter is addressed to Jane alone," Elizabeth protested. "She can read well enough. There is no need to see the words with your own eyes."

  Mrs. Bennet dropped her arm, which had been reaching for the letter. "Of course you are right, Lizzy. Jane can read quite well. I am suddenly feeling poorly. Girls, help me to bed."

  By the time they assisted their mother to her room, she was nearly limp. She fell into bed and seemed to immediately fall asleep.

  "I shall sit with her," volunteered Mary.

  "Thank you," Elizabeth said to her sister, and turned her attention to Jane.

  "Come. Mama is not the only one who needs rest."

  She took Jane's hand and led her down the hall. Jane followed silently and obediently until they were in the bedroom with the door closed.

  Jane sank on the bed and burst into tears.

  "Oh, Lizzy, what am I to do?"

  "Did the letter give any clue as to how long they plan to stay in town?"

  "You may read the letter. I do not mind."

  Elizabeth took the offered letter and read it quickly. Caroline Bingley was delighted to be returning to town. She said Mr. Bingley was anxious to return, and their entire party looked forward to seeing Mr. Darcy's sister, Georgiana. Caroline thought there might be some special connection between Mr. Bingley and Georgiana Darcy, and implied their engagement might be announced soon.

  "There is no way this is true, Jane. Mr. Bingley would not have misled you so if he was already promised to Miss Darcy, or if he had the slightest idea he might soon be. I refuse to believe he would be so deceitful."

  "What does it matter, Lizzy? He is gone. If he was truly interested in me, would he have left so abruptly?"

  Elizabeth pondered the question, but did not think of a satisfactory answer. Why on Earth would Mr. Bingley leave so suddenly, and when things were so promising between him and Jane? Mr. Bingley, she realized, would not. However, Elizabeth could think of several people who would be quite relieved to see Jane and Mr. Bingley separated: Caroline Bingley, the Hursts, and Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bingley's sisters made their opinion of the Bennet family quite clear, and Mr. Darcy likewise was very forthcoming with his dislike for people who lived in the country. Elizabeth did not doubt one of these people was responsible for Mr. Bingley's departure, and she shared this belief with Jane.

  "Oh, Lizzy, I do think you are mistaken. I cannot imagine anyone would intentionally come between us, especially not one of the people closest to him. And his sisters were very accommodating when I took ill at Netherfield."

  "That may be true, Jane, but just because his sisters are fond of you does not mean they are willing to invite you into their family."

  "I just cannot believe it of them. Likewise, I cannot believe Mr. Darcy would do anything which is not in Mr. Bingley's best interest."

  Elizabeth stayed silent. If she knew Mr. Darcy, and she thought she was beginning to, his idea of what was in Mr. Bingley's best interest might very well involve a return to London.

  * * *

  Darcy stared out the window of the carriage. He was torn. Although he understood his removal from Hertfordshire was the safest thing, he also could not keep from thinking about Elizabeth Bennet. When he thought back to their dance at the ball, he hardly remembered the words she spoke, although he knew they injured his pride as she said them. What was clearer to him was the way color rose into her cheeks when she spoke of something she was passionate about, and how clear her eyes were as they spoke.

  He had been around many women in his life, women impressed by Pemberley and by his income. She did not seem swayed by those things, and that was what drew him to her. Truly, a man would have to be exceptional in order for Elizabeth to love him. He doubted whether he could be that exceptional, although he hoped so. However, after their last encounter, he did not know if he would have another chance to speak to her.

  Darcy glanced across the carriage to where Carol
ine Bingley sat. She had a satisfied smile on her face, and why should she not? After all, she and her sister Louisa had succeeded in getting their brother to return to town. Darcy was tempted to agree with them as they convinced Charles that Jane Bennet was not the right match for him, but each time he did, he imagined the disappointment and anger he would see in Elizabeth's eyes if she was ever to discover he was involved in convincing Charles to leave. Even in his imagination, he could not stand the intensity of that anger. So he stayed quite silent, allowing Mr. Bingley's sisters to make the argument to leave. Darcy was not proud of his silence in this matter, but his conscience was nonetheless soothed in knowing he had done nothing that would injure the woman he could no longer deny he was in love with.

  Chapter 8

  Mr. Collins had much to think about after his failed proposal to Elizabeth. Her original suggestion of his courting Mary held no appeal to him whatsoever. Although Mary was the most devout of all the Bennet girls, he could not abide the thought of looking at her plain face each day.

  It will not do to marry a woman who is less beautiful than I, he thought, glancing at his face in the mirror and smiling. A parson would be judged by the quality of his wife--and what quality would his parishioners see in Mary's dour countenance? No, Mary was not the wife for him.

  Mr. Collins reflected once more how unfortunate was the fact Jane Bennet was quite nearly engaged to another man. Jane seemed sweet and pious enough, and she had the face of an angel. No one who looked at her would doubt for a moment Mr. Collins must be a fine man, to marry such a woman.

  Since Elizabeth had made her refusal well known, that left Collins with the idea of marrying Lydia or Kitty. Neither of these options appeared to be bad, although he found Lydia's dimples and figure drew his mind more than Kitty's. He could imagine Lydia as his wife, fluttering about the house and complimenting him on his fine sermons on Sunday. The thought of this pleased him immensely. However, he had seen the way Lydia comported herself with the officers of the militia, and it concerned him that he might marry an ungovernable flirt. That would certainly not elevate his status, and he suspected Lady Catherine would not appreciate him taking such a woman to wife.

  That left Kitty as a potential candidate. Although she was not the most beautiful of the Bennet sisters, she was nonetheless very attractive, and Mr. Collins thought he would be proud to have a girl as pretty as her for his wife. In addition, she did not show the extremes in temperament which were displayed by her sisters Lydia and Mary. He began to imagine what his life would be like with Kitty as his wife, and he soon admitted it painted a lovely picture. He did not know of her domestic proclivities, but he suspected that, as a gentleman's daughter, she was raised with an understanding of what the duties of the lady of the house entailed. In addition, Mrs. Bennet had proven all the girls came from solid stock, so he should be able to look forward to having a hale and healthy family with any of them. He did, however, hope for more sons than Mrs. Bennet had provided Mr. Bennet.

  His decision was nearly made when he imagined kissing Lydia. He was instantly lost in a dream of having such a well-grown and responsive wife as Lydia, and he lost track of his conscious thoughts almost entirely for the next few moments. When he returned to himself, he was forced to admit his head and his heart were quite at odds in regards to which Bennet sister to court. It seemed to him he would need to take additional time around both of them to make the best possible decision.

  * * *

  While Mr. Collins pondered his decision, he remained in the thoughts of the ladies he decided between. Lydia and Kitty thought him to be the most handsome man they had ever seen. Indeed, the only thing which would increase his appeal would be if he were outfitted in a red regimental. However, as that would not happen, either of them would be happy to take him just as he was.

  "I think Mr. Collins likes me better, Kitty," said Lydia.

  "He never does! Did you not hear him ask me to pass the potatoes at dinner two nights ago? His voice was full of admiration."

  "Admiration for the potatoes, perhaps, but I do not believe it extended to you."

  "Why must you think every man is in love with you?" said Kitty.

  "Well, are they not? I see how they watch me," said Lydia, twirling so her dress belled out.

  "Perhaps it is not admiration with which they view you," said Kitty. "Perhaps they just feel you would be easier to catch."

  "Are you insulting my virtue? How dare you!” yelled Lydia.

  "I do not need to, as you do a good job of insulting it yourself!" Kitty yelled back.

  At that time, Jane saw fit to intervene and sent her younger sisters to different parts of the house. It was clear based on how noisily each went to her own corner that the argument was far from over.

  Mary watched all this, as Mary usually watched what happened at Longbourn. She heard how Mr. Collins spoke of her when he proposed to Elizabeth (although she admonished her sisters for spying, she made sure she did not miss what was happening). She recalled his words, and, as had happened each time she thought of them, she felt somewhat ill.

  I do not think Miss Mary is the proper wife for me.

  It was unfair. Mary knew herself to be the most pious of her sisters, and suspected herself to be the most humble. How many times had she asked Mr. Collins for clarification as he recited Fordyce's Sermons, to show the depth of her devotion? Lydia could not manage to stay awake to listen, and yet somehow he found Mary to be an improper candidate to be his wife?

  Mary knew the real reason for his reticence. She was very young when she realized people did not fawn over her beauty as they did her older and younger sisters'. She soon realized the best description that could be ascribed to her face was ‘interesting’, but it was more often the case she was called "plain". Mary realized she would have to distinguish herself in another way--and was that not more noble, to become distinguished for one's talents, rather than one's beauty?

  And now, after all the time she had spent practicing the pianoforte, after all the time living a proper life as God intended, Mr. Collins had come along. He was handsome and devout and had a very important patroness. He ought to want a wife as accomplished and devout as Mary. But he did not, and instead he sought after her foolish sisters. Mary sat down at the pianoforte bench; she would just have to practice harder. The notes she banged out echoed the cadence of her sisters' footsteps. Kitty and Lydia were not the only angry Bennet sisters.

  * * *

  Even the prospect of a handsome, marriageable cousin could not tempt Kitty and Lydia entirely away from the militia officers. Mr. Collins might have been enjoyable to look at, but he lacked a red regimental, and the youngest Bennet girls agreed nothing made a man look better. Therefore, the presence of Mr. Collins and his conundrum as to which sister to choose did not change their lives as much as it might with a more proper young lady, like their sister Jane.

  Trips to Meryton to see the officers happened with a certain regularity, and, although they were sometimes accompanied by Mr. Collins, they were more likely to be chaperoned by one of their older sisters, who had little recourse against girlish foolishness aside from stern words. These had precisely the same effect as always on Lydia and Kitty--that is to say, none.

  The girls developed a bit of an ally in Elizabeth. Whenever she minded them, they were liable to be scolded as often as she though it necessary. However, if a certain Mr. Wickham was in attendance, Elizabeth was likely to be less vigilant of her younger sisters. In fact, Elizabeth herself occasionally found the occasion to giggle, which both startled and delighted her sisters. They whispered to one another about what a good influence Mr. Wickham had.

  Mr. Collins certainly did not share his cousins' delight in speaking with members of the regiment. In fact, seeing the girls so involved in speaking with the officers stoked a slow anger inside the man. It particularly galled him to see Elizabeth, by whom he had been so quickly and thoroughly spurned, speaking and laughing with another man. It was a continual reminder
of her rejection of him, and this reminder did not even allow him the indulgence of the idea that perhaps Elizabeth would have reacted as she did to any man who proposed to her. It was clear to anyone watching she would not reject a proposal from Mr. Wickham.

  Elizabeth, normally quick and astute in her observations, failed to notice the effect she had on Mr. Collins. More often than not, she missed the minor improprieties of her sisters (although she was still observant enough to catch any major ones). It was so difficult to focus on what was happening around her when Mr. Wickham beamed his handsome smile at her and regaled her with stories of his time at Cambridge. She marveled at his ability to make any subject interesting, and she always walked away from their encounters believing he must have told her all the stories he had to tell. That idea was proven untrue each time they saw one another again.

  “…and it was nearly time for the examination to begin, so we went in search of Wentworth," Mr. Wickham said, weaving his story for a captivated audience. "We knew where to find him, but we certainly did not relish the idea of going there. However, if he did not sit for the examination, he would be removed from the school, and there would be quite a row with his father. We decided we were bound to help him, if we could, to keep him from making an irreparable mistake. So we went to the tavern he enjoyed frequenting, and when we walked in, we discovered him--" Wickham broke off and looked around. "Oh, but pardon me. I forgot to whom I was speaking; such unpleasantries need not be spoken in front of proper young ladies like yourself."

  "We are not easily shocked, Wickham," said Lydia, fluttering her eyelashes at him. "Tell us what happened."

  "Miss Lydia!" interjected Mr. Collins. "This has gone on for far too long. I will not allow your ears to be sullied by the coarse tales of this man!"