Page 37 of A Rational Man (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

A cold November became an even colder December.

By the middle of that frigid December, the banns for Mary and Mr. Collins had been read three times.

Mr. Collins had left Longbourn, briefly, to inform his patroness of his success in wooing a Bennet daughter and to make whatever adjustments to his cottage he deemed necessary for it to be suitable to receive a bride.

But now he was back at Longbourn and the wedding was to take place the following day.

Jane had been cast into the shade, as far as Mrs. Bennet was concerned, for Mary’s triumph of keeping the estate in the family was all the greater for its having been so unexpected.

Elizabeth understood that Mr. Darcy had been instrumental in moving Mr. Collins’ attention from herself to Mary, and despite her sorrow and anger, she was grateful to him for that kindness.

If the rest of her family had known of this, doubtless they would have been grateful as well, for if Mr. Collins had not been so directed, Elizabeth would have been forced to refuse him, leaving Mr. Collins free to focus his attentions elsewhere.

Where might he have ended up? Mary King, perhaps; Mr. Collins had been quite interested in her freckles.

Mary’s dress was ready, as was her headpiece. Her flowers were in a vase of fresh water, and Kitty had been tasked with making certain that they all looked fresh the next day.

Mama made a fuss of pulling Mary into her room to have the Married Woman talk, as she put it. The girls stared at the closed door of Mama’s room, wondering what that talk might consist of. When the door was flung open and Mary emerged, looking rather green, she said, “Do not ask me,” and fled.

Mr. Bennet stayed out of the way as much as possible, though he appeared that afternoon and asked Mary to join him in his study.

Mary obeyed, but with some reluctance. “If you mean to have some sort of special talk for married women with me, you need not, for Mama has already done so.”

Mr. Bennet turned purple and said, “No! Heavens, no! I leave such things to your mother.”

“Very well,” she said, folding her hands neatly in her lap. “What is it?”

“Only this. If you are in any way unhappy in your new situation, you must come home. I know your husband will have power over you, but you are not without family and friends, Mary, and we will protect you, even if it must be from your husband.”

“Have you any reason to believe Mr. Collins would mistreat me, Papa?”

“No, none at all. But you are the first of my girls to marry, and I find myself not just reluctant to let you go, but also eager to assure myself of your well-being. Promise me that you will let me know if you need anything; in return, I promise that I will take care of you.”

Mary felt tears welling up in her eyes. Had she doubted that her father cared for her? She felt, at that moment, that she had never understood him; and now that she had glimpsed a small piece of him, she was leaving!

“Papa, thank you. Thank you for your kind words, and your – your –“ And here, poor Mary broke down and was quite unable to finish.

“There, there, child,” her father said. “Do not let your mother or your sisters know of my kind words, or they shall be expecting the same.”

It was like him, Mary now understood, to make a joke; but she could not doubt that he loved his daughters.

The Gardiners arrived in time for dinner.

It was impossible for them not to attend Mary’s wedding; while she had never been invited to stay with them in London and, in fact, had said more than once that she had no desire for such frivolity, it was nonetheless important for the girl to understand that she was valued by her family.

She welcomed them warmly and was proud to introduce her intended. Mr. Collins went on for some time about how pleased, how very pleased, he was to meet more of his Mary’s most excellent family, until Mrs. Gardiner was forced to retire with a headache.

***

The next day dawned fair, and Jane, Elizabeth, Kitty and Lydia all walked down the aisle of the small church, holding identical nosegays.

Mary then followed them on her father’s arm.

Mrs. Bennet sat in the front pew, waving her handkerchief.

She turned around to address Mr. Bingley, who was sitting behind her.

“You will be next!” she cried, waving the handkerchief at him.

Mr. Collins looked almost dapper as he stood at the altar, waiting for his bride.

In fact, it had been Jane who had taken him in hand that morning, insisting that he bathe, brush his clothing, shine his shoes and clean his teeth before the ceremony.

Mary knew nothing of it, and everyone agreed that it was not necessary that she be told.

When the ceremony was done, the new couple faced the congregation and beamed at the applause and congratulations that flowed their way. The wedding breakfast was held at Longbourn, of course, and the house was full to bursting with guests eager to partake of Mrs. Bennet’s well-known hospitality.

The Gardiners presented Mary with a large wicker basket; upon its being opened, it was found to contain a set of fine teacups, saucers and a large teapot.

Mary was all but speechless at being the recipient of so fine and elegant a gift, and Mr. Collins’ gratitude was expressed at length.

It was, he said, so fine that even Miss de Bourgh would not take it amiss at being offered tea in such a cup!

This, the Gardiners were given to understand, was the highest compliment that could be paid to any item of tableware.

It seemed like no time at all before it was over, and Mary’s trunks were being tied to the carriage that Lady Catherine had loaned Mr. Collins. “Mary, oh, Mary!” Elizabeth cried, holding her sister close. “We shall miss you so!”

“You promised to visit me, Lizzy; I insist that you do so! For I must have something familiar to look forward to in all this change and upheaval,” Mary whispered to her sister.

“I shall, Mary!”

All the other Bennet sisters took their turn, wishing Mary well, and finally it was Mrs. Bennet who hugged her middle daughter and said, “You have saved me, Mary! I would never have believed it!”

Mary had heard this often enough in the past weeks, and was as irritated by it now as she had been when it was first spoken.

Her mother’s disbelief did neither of them any credit, she felt.

She disentangled herself from her mother’s embrace, turned to her new husband and told him that she was ready to go.

He escorted her to the carriage and helped her to climb in.

With a good deal of last-minute good-byes and wishes for a safe journey, Mr. and Mrs. Collins drove away.

The Gardiners were to leave soon after, but Mrs. Gardiner found a moment to speak with Elizabeth. “So it was Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy after all! How very strange! How did you find him?”

Mrs. Gardiner was astonished when Elizabeth turned colour and looked down before replying that he had been a very fine gentleman indeed. She put a finger under her niece’s chin and raised Elizabeth’s face. “Oh, Lizzy, truly?”

“Oh, Aunt,” Elizabeth sighed. “I have no one to blame but myself. I knew he was destined for better.”

“Not better, never better,” her aunt replied, hugging her tight. “Richer, perhaps, but not better.”

“He was not unaffected, Aunt; he told me that he found me compelling.”

“Does that make it better or worse?”

“Better. No, worse. Oh, Aunt, I hardly know!”

***

Once the Gardiners had been thanked and waved off, Mrs. Bennet insisted that the family sit in the parlour and congratulate one another on such a beautiful event.

Each guest was mentioned, and Lady Lucas was singled out as having looked quite envious.

“For Charlotte is not likely to ever marry,” Mrs. Bennet added.

It was noted that Mr. Bingley had congratulated the Bennets most sincerely, as had Mrs. Hurst. Mr. Hurst had, it appeared, slept through the ceremony, but had been everything gracious in complimenting Mrs. Bennet on the viands offered at the wedding breakfast. Miss Bingley, curiously enough, had been absent.

“Jane,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Where was Miss Bingley?”

“Mr. Bingley said she was not feeling well,” Jane replied, looking uneasy.

Elizabeth looked at Jane sharply; Jane glanced at her sister and then looked down. Elizabeth was now certain that Jane was lying.

In point of fact, Mr. Bingley had told Jane, in a very quiet voice, that Miss Bingley had not left her room since the ball. She had taken trays in her room, morning and night, and had not been seen. She had sent no note and made no attempt to communicate with anyone.

Jane had watched her fiancé as he spoke; he looked very unhappy.

She was forced to consider the fact that he might not be able to keep to his word to his intended wife.

He might very well relent and let his sister remain in his home, though it cost him his bride.

She felt very much like bursting into tears, but she feared that she would be heard and would then have to explain herself.

She had wished she might have spoken to Aunt Gardiner about it, but in all the hustle and bustle of Mary’s wedding, there had been not a moment in which to do so. Now she sat at her writing desk and poured her heart in a letter.

Dear Aunt Gardiner,

I am certain that I told you that Papa would only consent to my marriage to Mr. Bingley if his youngest sister were removed from the household.

Mr. Bingley indicated that he understood and had every intention of arranging it; I know that he told her of the edict, but I cannot help but wonder if he will be able to resist her importuning.

It seems that Miss Caroline Bingley controls everyone in that household and her brother is no exception. I fear that the very kindness I so love in him is what keeps him imprisoned by her.

I know – of course, I know! – that I should not wish to marry someone who is too weak to stand up for his future wife. But oh, I do love him and want to marry him! Perhaps I can convince Papa that I would be able to get along with Miss Bingley?

But could I? She has never been anything but rude to me, and I would not like a lifetime of that.

Oh, I am so confused!

Please forgive my running on so, dearest Aunt – please write back and tell me what I should do!

Your distraught niece,

Jane

***

Dearest Jane,

Oh, my dearest girl! I feel for you and for Mr. Bingley as well, for who would wish to treat his sister so, no matter her character?

But, Jane, there is nothing for you to do except to wait upon events. This, it seems, is too often a woman’s lot in life, to simply sit and wait, but that is what is required in this case. Your position had been made clear. He will either comply or he will not.

That said, I have seen his face when he looks at you, and I believe he will keep his word.

Please do let me know what transpires!

With all my love,

Aunt Gardiner