Page 24 of Five Gentlemen at Netherfield (Pride and Prejudice Variations)

East Parlor

Longbourn

The Next Morning

A thin layer of dust coated the mantel and hung dancing in the rays of light coming in the window where opening the curtains had disturbed the motes.

The east parlor, being but rarely used, was not the highest priority when the servants were dusting and was occasionally let slide in favor of the more often frequented rooms. It was this very isolation that Elizabeth had cited when she ushered her mother and uncle into the room, remarking that they would have privacy here for their discussions without needing to worry about servants working nearby and overhearing their conversation.

What she had not mentioned was that there was also less danger of Mr. Collins wandering by, or wandering in, and interrupting them.

To further this end, Jane lurked in the breakfast room, prepared to ambush Mr. Collins and engage him in discussion – or merely to endure his monologues – for as long as need should dictate.

Elizabeth, and indeed, the whole household had greeted Mr. Gardiner’s arrival that morning a mere two hours after dawn with relief and joy.

Now Elizabeth was eager to solicit her uncle’s advice and aid and, yes, protection, for herself and her sisters, as a bulwark against Mr. Collins’s unwelcome offers .

“Oh, Brother. You simply must order Mary to wed Mr. Collins!” Mrs. Bennet cried out. “Such an honorable gentleman, you know, a parson, and she has always cared for the Scriptures more than my other girls. Promise me that you will tell Mary that it is her duty to wed the heir of Longbourn!”

Elizabeth turned hopeful eyes on Mr. Gardiner, who said, “My dear Fanny, I do beg you to calm yourself and begin at the beginning. How is Mr. Bennet this morning?”

“I do not know!” Mrs. Bennet bleated. “I do not know, except that he still lives, but oh, Brother, how long can that continue when he has been struck down by an apoplexy? And Mr. Collins is correct that it would not be entirely honorable for there to be a wedding within days of Mr. Bennet’s death, and in any case, Mr. Collins might decide to marry some other woman, and then I will be thrown from my home before Mr. Bennet is cold in his grave! Mary must wed Mr. Collins! She must!”

Mr. Gardiner’s expression remained calm, and he turned toward Elizabeth. “May I inquire as to your views of this matter, Lizzy?”

She took a deep breath, straightened her back, and said, “Uncle, Mary does not wish to wed Mr. Collins any more than I do, and thus we both refused him. And given that neither of us has known him for more than a week…”

“Nonsense, nonsense!” her mother interrupted. “What does that matter? He is an honorable gentleman, and heir to this estate. What more do you need to know?”

Elizabeth toyed with the idea of trying to explain her position and decided it was pointless.

“Mamma,” she said, turning toward Mrs. Bennet, “Mary does not wish to wed Mr. Collins, and neither do I. Let me be clear. Neither of us will marry him. It is as simple as that.”

This provoked a long scream of outrage from Mrs. Bennet, and Elizabeth felt her entire body tense up, only to relax when Mr. Gardiner leaped to his feet, rushed over, and shook her shoulder firmly.

“Fanny, you will be quiet now, do you hear?” he ordered, his usually genial countenance twisted in anger. “You are acting like a shrew, not a lady!”

Mrs. Bennet was startled enough by her brother’s words and actions that she fell silent, her mouth dropping open in shock, her eyes filled with tears.

“But, Brother,” she began, only to be interrupted.

“I wish to hear no more from you,” Mr. Gardiner said sternly. “You have no right to force either of your daughters into marriage, and based on Elizabeth’s words, am I to understand that Mr. Collins made offers to both Elizabeth and Mary?”

He sounded so dumbfounded that Mrs. Bennet cringed a trifle.

“Yes?” she murmured. “First he asked Lizzy, who refused him, and then he asked Mary only last night, and she also refused him, and I simply do not understand why…”

“Well, I do,” Mr. Gardiner said sternly. “Moreover, with Mary’s considerable fortune, I find it most peculiar that you would push her to accept Mr. Collins as a husband. She has a great many options, after all.”

“But only Mr. Collins is the heir to the estate,” Mrs. Bennet whimpered.

Mr. Gardiner glowered at his sister for a long moment and then turned to Elizabeth.

“Lizzy, my dear, please inform Mary that I will ensure that neither of you is forced into an unwanted marriage. Moreover, given that Mr. Phillips and I are trustees for your respective fortunes, we have considerable power.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” Elizabeth said. “Mary is spending the day with our aunt Phillips, but I will be certain to give her your assurances when she returns.”

Mr. Gardiner rose from his seat and said, “I need to speak to Mr. Phillips anyway, so I will ride to Meryton shortly. Before that, however, may I visit my brother Bennet? Or is that inadvisable?”

“You may, though I beg you to prepare yourself, as he is greatly altered,” Elizabeth said, turning to look at her mother with a mixture of irritation and sympathy. “Mamma, do you wish to see Father?”

“No, no, I cannot bear it, and I cannot imagine how you could think I can!” Mrs. Bennet complained.

“I am in such a dreadful state with such tremblings, such flutterings all over me, such spasms in my side, and pains in my head, and such beatings at my heart, that I can get no rest by night nor by day! No, I cannot bear to see my poor husband.”

She burst into loud sobs again, and Elizabeth stepped out into the hall to call for Mrs. Hill, who was hovering at the end of the hall within easy reach. Elizabeth requested tea with laudanum for the stricken lady, and Mrs. Hill promised to bundle the mistress of Longbourn into bed.

That was, Elizabeth thought, the best possible solution for Mrs. Bennet at the moment.

***

The Library

Longbourn

8 p.m.

Edward Gardiner leaned back in his chair and allowed himself to relish the warmth of the flames and the tea in his hand.

It was a relief to rest after such a busy day, which had started very early as he had ridden at first light from London to Longbourn.

His trials had only been beginning, for Fanny, of course, was in hysterics, inflicting her nerves on the household and especially her daughters, and had required some firm handling after gentle care had not sufficed.

A visit to Meryton and the Phillips household had been in order, so that he might have a consultation with Mr. Phillips.

It had also been necessary to assure a quietly distraught Mary, who had spent the day hiding from her mother and Mr. Collins, that she would never be forced to marry the heir of Longbourn.

Upon Mr. Gardiner’s return to Longbourn, Mr. Collins had requested a meeting after dinner.

Gardiner had welcomed the opportunity to clarify the situation to the young heir, but Mr. Collins was proving to be rather obstinate in the way that people who fancied themselves to be quite meek sometimes could be.

“But Mr. Gardiner,” Mr. Collins protested, “with Mr. Bennet so ill, surely it is my responsibility to care for my Bennet cousins, and what better way to do so than for me to wed Miss Mary?”

Mr. Gardiner suppressed a sigh. Elizabeth had described the heir of Longbourn as an unctuous fool, but there was a certain avaricious intelligence in the rector’s brown eyes. It was, he thought, notable that Mr. Collins had spoken only of Mary, in spite of Elizabeth’s better looks and seniority.

He set aside his teacup and leaned forward a trifle. “Sir, I appreciate your concern, but given that Mr. Bennet still lives, and that all five of my nieces have dowries of their own, and that Mr. Phillips and I are guardians over their fortunes, I beg you not to worry. They will be well cared for.”

Mr. Collins, it seemed, was not the sort of man to give up one thousand pounds a year without a fight.

“But sir, my apologies, I understand that you are a busy man of trade, with a growing family, and that your duties keep you in London. I will soon be master of Longbourn, and with Miss Mary’s dowry, will take excellent care of the ladies.

Indeed, we are all most appreciative of your willingness to work so hard on behalf of my poor cousins, but you have duties in Town, and… ”

“No, Mr. Collins!” Mr. Gardiner exclaimed, his admirable temper finally breaking.

The look of shock on Mr. Collins’s plump face caused him a twinge of contrition, and he said, more calmly, “My apologies, sir, but I must request that you leave off importuning me or my niece. You and Mary do not know one another well enough to wed at this juncture. Moreover, my brother by marriage is not yet dead, and until he breathes his last, he remains master of Longbourn. Neither Mr. Phillips nor I will permit one of my nieces to marry at the moment, and we also have complete control over the distribution of the dowries. Given the circumstances, if you do not mind some advice from an older man, might I suggest you return to Kent? I assure you that should Mr. Bennet die, you will be informed quickly, but now, with the household in disarray, it would be better for everyone if you departed.”

Mr. Collins did not take this particularly well, but after another twenty minutes discussion he agreed, huffily, to depart Longbourn on the morrow. Mr. Gardiner, who had considered hurling the man from the house, was pleased it had not come to that.

***

Former School Room

Attic

Longbourn

Six women sat in comfortable groups around what was previously the schoolroom, a fire burning at one end and candles chasing away any remaining shadows.

Miss Fairchild, unable to be of great moral support to a family she scarcely knew, had spent the last several days of Mr. Bennet’s illness transforming the schoolroom into a haven.

The servants had thoroughly dusted the room, laid the fire, polished the candlesticks, and brought up heaps of logs and tinder and chairs and cushions and tables from the unused parlors downstairs.

Their efforts had paid off, for all the girls had flocked to the room to pursue their own activities.

All five of them, as well as their governess, sat now in the newly appointed schoolroom.

Lydia had been furnished with several plain hats and bonnets and a veritable armload of ribbons and flowers and frills, and now sat at the largest table, in the corner, transforming all the simple headwear into extravagant creations.

Kitty and Miss Fairchild were seated at the second largest table, several candles at their elbows and pencils scattered between them as each one worked on a sketch.

Mary was humming under her breath, the faint sound almost overpowered by the rustling of paper, as she examined her newest sheet music.

Elizabeth and Jane were seated before the fire, with only a small table between them, and on it a chessboard.

Captured pieces marched around the edge of the black and white squares, more of them at Jane’s hand than Elizabeth’s own.

Elizabeth did not mind losing. She was too relieved to be in a quiet room away from her mother’s histrionics and Mr. Collins’s inane babblings.

Neither of them was likely to ascend the rather narrow and steep staircase to the former schoolroom, leaving the girls in peace.

Their uncle Gardiner’s arrival that morning was another weight off of Elizabeth’s mind.

He was an eminently sensible man, older than Mr. Collins and well able to handle bloviating fools in a firmly rational manner.

His management of Mrs. Bennet had been masterful and a relief to Elizabeth, who found her mother’s tantrums exhausting.

“Checkmate,” Jane said aloud, and Elizabeth looked down at the board and wrinkled her nose. “Might you give up a rook and a bishop next time?” she asked.

“Very well,” Jane said comfortably. “Shall we play again?”