Page 5

MR. COLLINS ARRIVED that evening just in time for dinner.

He was not handsome.

He was not amiable.

He was a tall, heavy looking man of five and twenty, with a sort of bluster to him.

He seemed to end all of his sentences as if he were addressing an imaginary congregation, lifting his chin and looking off into the distance importantly.

“I am very sensible, you see, to the—” Here, he paused and looked over everyone’s head, squaring his shoulders with a flourish. “Hardship of my fair cousins.”

Elizabeth was flushed with a sense of sheer horror.

She could not be married to this man.

She could not do it, not without being ashamed every time she came into a room, fully mortified to be this man’s wife, and she could not bear it.

Her father found the man deliciously ridiculous and took every occasion at dinner to set up Mr. Collins to illustrate this.

“Lady Catherine de Bourgh has been the epitome of what a patron should be, of course,” said Mr. Collins.

He addressed the next to the ceiling, speaking with great severity.

“She has, through the goodness of her being, seen fit to ask me to dine at Rosings, on two occasions.” He paused here, to allow this to sink in, as if he had delivered some bit of ultimate and searing truth, though he was not looking at any of them, but still the ceiling.

He continued, gesturing with both hands, “Just recently, in fact, she was so kind as to include me in her party of quadrille players. This was just the Saturday before, you see, and she has been ever so good with her advice to me as well, even deigning to visit my humble parsonage, and to give her thoughts on shelves in the closets.”

Elizabeth could not eat.

Her father was having the time of his life. He got Mr. Collins talking about Lady Catherine’s daughter, and Mr. Collins conveyed that he had slavishly praised Miss Anne de Bourgh, though she was in fact sickly and wan and lacking in the constitution for any taxing behavior.

“Oh, yes,” her father said. “You are quite adept at flattering with delicacy, Mr. Collins.”

Mr. Collins tilted his chin, nodding, as if he did not realize this was an insult.

Her father smiled all the wider. “May I ask, when you do employ your flattery, sir, is it something that just comes to you in the moment? Or do you think of it ahead of time?”

“Well, if I do, of course, I attempt to give it as much of an unstudied air as possible,” said Mr. Collins gravely to the space of the wall above her father’s head.

Mr. Bennet was smirking so much, he had to cover his mouth with a napkin.

Elizabeth felt like she was going to vomit.

Marry this man?

What was she going to do?

“I KNOW I said I would sort it on my own,” said Caroline. “And I shall, but I cannot but hope you might have some thought on the matter now.”

It was the following day after Mr. Collins’s arrival, in the mid-morning.

Elizabeth was out on the road that ran between Netherfield and Longbourn, rather closer to Netherfield than Longbourn, in fact, owing to the fact that Caroline suddenly seemed to think walking long distances was beneath women of a certain status.

It was more of that London snobbery within her, Elizabeth thought.

“Well, as I see it, you have sent a letter from your brother to Mr. Darcy, inviting him to come,” said Elizabeth.

“And then not shown your brother the response in the affirmative because you were worried about his wrath, and now Mr. Darcy is even now arriving, this very day, and you wish to know how to break this news to your brother?”

“Yes, as I have said,” said Caroline, sighing.

The way it had gone was that, this morning, there had been a letter delivered by a servant from Netherfield, begging Elizabeth to meet Caroline after breakfast, and Elizabeth had sent back a note that she would not come all the way to Netherfield, that Caroline could quite meet her halfway, and then another note had come back that Caroline would be near the large oak tree on the road, which was really not halfway, but it was too late to negotiate, and now Elizabeth was here.

“Well, I have no thought, none at all,” said Elizabeth.

“Oh, that cannot be true, for I well know how your mind works, and you have had nothing else to think on recently, so I am sure that you have come up with some sort of scheme to fix it all and you are simply not telling me because you disapprove of my behavior.”

“In truth, I have been a bit distracted,” said Elizabeth.

“No, nothing is happening,” said Caroline. “What could possibly have distracted you?”

Elizabeth explained about Mr. Collins, and Caroline listened with an expression of growing horror.

“Oh, no, Eliza, that will not do,” she finally said, when Elizabeth was done speaking.

“You can’t marry him. If I am married to Mr. Darcy, then that will mean that you and I are not of the same social circle.

We could be friends. We could associate.

But we can certainly not spend our summers together and raise our children together, and I shan’t have it! ”

Elizabeth looked at her in a state of utter gratitude. “You don’t think I have to do it?”

“I forbid it, in fact. You cannot marry him, you simply cannot.”

Elizabeth let out a noisy sigh of relief.

“Oh, but Caroline, I must. It is my duty, don’t you see?

What becomes of all of my sisters if I don’t secure Longbourn?

What becomes of my mother?” She, of course, relished the idea of living with her mother forever and ever less than the idea of being married to Mr. Collins.

However, both were very bad. Both made her feel dizzy with distress.

“I shall find you someone else,” said Caroline, lifting her chin. “Am I not quite good at that?”

Elizabeth nodded slowly. Yes, she had just thought to herself that she didn’t want a match like that, but now, considering the alternative, she could quite see why she might, in fact, want Caroline’s help.

“And if you are worried about your mother or your sisters, you must know that everyone will be better served if you match with the man of the right caliber.”

“True,” said Elizabeth, nodding rapidly. “True.”

“All right, well…” Caroline hugged herself, shaking her head, drawing her brows tightly together. “We must simply marry him to someone else, then.”

“Oh,” said Elizabeth, liking this less, because she didn’t think anyone should be saddled with Mr. Collins. “Who?”

“I have no idea,” said Caroline. “But you refuse him if he asks, and do your best to put him off, so that if he has it in his head to propose, you delay. Let me think about it.”

Elizabeth swallowed. “All right.”

“Now, about Mr. Darcy, who is coming to Netherfield today, and my brother is unaware? What can I say?”

Elizabeth had no idea what Caroline could say. She was in a state right now, and she could not think, and there was no way at all that she could find any remedy for such a grievous— “You must confess it to Jane, and she will tell Mr. Bingley.”

Caroline stroked her chin. “Well, all right. I suppose that might work.”

“Mind you,” said Elizabeth, “when you are telling my sister this, you explain that your motivation is because you are very desperately in love with Mr. Darcy.”

“I am!”

“Do not say it is because of status or his wealth or his connections.”

“Well, why else would a girl be desperately in love?”

“Oh, Lord, Caroline, truly?”

Caroline shrugged at Elizabeth. “What? He is handsome, I suppose?”

“No, no, think of something about him that is kind or good or caring,” said Elizabeth.

“Oh,” said Caroline, making a face.

“There is something kind about him?”

“He has a sister, I suppose,” said Caroline. “A younger sister. I suppose he is kind to her.”

Elizabeth huffed. “If you want Jane on your side, you must make her think that you have done this because he is a good and kind man and that you are convinced that her husband would have blocked the match for no good reason. She’ll go to Mr. Bingley, who will say that Mr. Darcy thinks you beneath him, and then Jane will counter with proof of his sheer kindness and goodness and then—”

“Oh, all right, I see, I see.” Caroline nodded. “It’s quite good, Eliza. You are brilliant.” She seized Elizabeth’s hand. “You are the best friend a girl could have, you know?”

Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile. Caroline was good with praise. “I hope it works.”

“It will, quite. And set your mind to rest over that that dreadful Mr. Collins, my dear. We shall have you free of all of that, don’t you worry. ”

LATER THAT AFTERNOON , all of the Bennet sisters walked to Meryton with Mr. Collins in tow. He talked a lot, and Elizabeth did her level best to ignore him, even though he kept trying to especially engage her.

It was horrid.

She was trying so hard not to pay attention to Mr. Collins, however, that she spent a great deal of time paying attention to other things, things she might not have paid much mind otherwise, things like men in the regiment.

The militia was set up on the outskirts of town just then, and her younger sisters, especially Lydia and Kitty, were in ecstasies about such a thing.

They knew every single officer’s name and where he was from and likely whether he liked peas or carrots, for they were wont to hang on these men’s every word.

Elizabeth somehow got herself introduced to a man who’d just arrived from London.

He was with Mr. Denny, who had apparently been away in London, something that Lydia had known, for she was that aware of the comings and goings of the officers.

Lydia greeted Mr. Denny herself, saying she was so happy he was back, and Elizabeth was there, part of this conversation simply to have an excuse to be away from Mr. Collins.