Page 42 of Hidden Desires
AFTER DINNER, Bennet lingered in the dining room long enough to finish his glass of port. When he at last joined his family in the sitting room, he carried a folded letter in hand and an expression that betrayed amusement he had not bothered to conceal.
“I have received a communication from our esteemed cousin,” he announced, taking a seat near the hearth.
Mrs. Bennet looked up from her needlework with a frown. “What can he want now?”
Bennet unfolded the paper. “He offers news of his continued good fortune under the watchful eye of Lady Catherine de Bourgh and has seen fit to regale us with an account of his patroness’s welcome and her reception of his new bride. Shall I read it aloud?”
Elizabeth nodded. “By all means.”
Bennet glanced at her, one brow lifting at her tone, then cleared his throat and began:
“‘Upon our arrival at the parsonage, I was asked, very politely, by my patroness, the Right Honorable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, to allow her the privilege of an introduction to my wife. It was she whose pious regard and generous beneficence preferred me for the honor of this living.’”
Mrs. Bennet sniffed. “Preferred him, indeed. She likely wanted a man too humble to contradict her.”
“‘Without delay, we appeared at Rosings Park, where Lady Catherine allowed me the honor of presenting Mrs. Collins and pronounced herself pleased with my choice. She even favored me with a compliment regarding the respectability of my bride.’”
Bennet murmured, “What an honor,” before continuing.
“I am sure Charlotte was overjoyed,” Elizabeth said.
Lydia giggled. “More likely she was terrified.”
Bennet went on:
“‘With Lady Catherine’s gracious assistance, Mrs. Collins and I settled comfortably at Hunsford Parsonage. She is the most elegant and generous of patrons, always willing to offer her opinions on the improvements she has suggested for our home.’”
Kitty glanced up from her workbasket. “Improvements? Does that mean she tells them where to put every chair?”
“Wait and see,” Bennet said, and read on:
“‘I cannot tell you how often she has instructed me in the proper arrangement of items on our shelves or the placement of furniture.’”
“There you have it,” Kitty whispered.
Bennet raised an eyebrow. “Indeed.”
He ignored further interruption:
“‘Mrs. Collins has not expressed her thoughts on the favor Lady Catherine shows in giving her instruction, but I am certain she appreciates it as much as I do. Only yesterday I found her in the garden, weeping in frustration over her inability to express proper gratitude for Lady Catherine’s kindness.’”
Elizabeth exchanged a look with Jane. “I rather doubt she wept from gratitude.”
“‘She is indispensable in preparing my Sunday sermons, reviewing them each Saturday and offering useful alterations to ensure I convey the proper message.’”
Lydia leaned closer to Elizabeth. “Can you imagine having your sermons corrected every week? I wonder if she also corrected this letter before allowing him to send it.”
“‘I am fortunate to have access to her knowledge and ask the Lord each night to shower her with blessings for the wisdom she shares. Her suggestions are always sound, proven by her understanding and familiarity with the holy scriptures, which surpass even our bishop’s.’”
Bennet raised an eyebrow again. “Indeed.”
He read the closing without further comment:
“‘On another subject, Lady Catherine asks me to inform you of her nephew’s presence in Hertfordshire. He is visiting a friend who has taken ill. Please extend every courtesy to the gentleman, should you have the privilege of making his acquaintance.’”
Mrs. Bennet sat up straighter. “Did you hear that? A gentleman of consequence in the neighborhood.”
“‘He is her favorite nephew and is engaged to her daughter, Anne, a marriage she expects will take place within the year. Although Anne has not yet appeared in London, Lady Catherine hopes she will attend the season next year. Such an occasion is sure to attract admiration, for Lady Catherine enjoys the esteem and affection of all who know her.’”
Elizabeth smiled faintly. “I wonder whether that is truly the universal opinion.”
Bennet read the final lines:
“‘In closing, I thank you again for your generous hospitality, and Miss Elizabeth for introducing me to my future wife. I wish you every happiness and urge you to remain steadfast in your faith. Never forget it is our duty to thank the Lord for the bounty He bestows upon us each day.
WILLIAM COLLINS.’”
“I think I can say, without argument, that his patroness has rewarded him with the life he deserves.” Bennet folded the letter and set it on the table beside him.
“He is a lucky man to have a patroness willing to instruct him in every facet of his life. Without such supervision, he might be unable to serve his parishioners, unsure of the correct interpretation of scripture or the accuracy of his sermons.”
“Now, Papa,” Elizabeth said, “do not make fun of Mr. Collins. He is an amiable man, and one to whom structure and direction are essential for a happy life. It is not kind to mock him.”
“I was sharing an observation,” Bennet said with a smile that fooled no one, least of all Elizabeth. “Far be it from me to denigrate or belittle his station in life, or the beneficence of his saintly patroness. I am happy for him and understand his euphoria.”
“What of this person he mentioned? Have you any notion who it might be?”
Bennet looked thoughtful. “The only newcomer I am aware of is Darcy.”
Elizabeth tilted her head. “It seems probable. Mr. Collins refers to him as her favorite nephew, and there cannot be many newcomers of that fortune and standing in Hertfordshire. The coincidence is too strong to ignore.”
“That was my thought as well,” Bennet said. “Though I cannot be certain, it would explain why he seems determined to remain in the neighborhood.”
“I suppose we will discover the truth soon enough.”
“Find this man and introduce yourself,” Mrs. Bennet demanded, setting her needlework aside with sudden determination.
“If it is Mr. Darcy, we ought to learn whether this supposed engagement is a mere understanding. And if it is not him, you must find out who the gentleman is. He may very well be in need of a wife.”
“No,” Bennet said, shaking his head. “I refuse to trick some poor unsuspecting fellow into offering marriage to one of our daughters. Besides, my esteemed cousin says he is spoken for.”
“Why must you assume the only way a man will offer for our daughters is through trickery?” she said, her voice rising. “All of them are pretty enough to attract a man of means without resorting to that. I had only hoped you might mention them to this gentleman.”
“And I refuse,” he stated as Mrs. Bennet’s lips pressed into a thin line and her breath came faster. “I will not waste my time chasing rumors and shadows, none of which will lead to marriage for our girls anyway.”
“If you will not assist in securing their happiness, so be it,” she said, her voice tight with fury, “but I refuse to stay where my opinion counts for nothing.”
Mrs. Bennet rose from her chair and strode from the room, her back straight and her head high. Her heels struck the floor in sharp, deliberate clicks, the sound echoing down the hall as she climbed the stairs, her indignation ringing through the house.
“Papa,” Elizabeth said with a sigh, “why do you delight so in mocking her? Can you not take pity and reason with her when she gets in these moods?
“You know full well that she will shut herself in her room, something that would be unnecessary if you would just commiserate with her sometimes.”
Bennet regarded her, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Do you side with your mother, then? Am I to scour the countryside and drag this fellow back to Longbourn, whether he consents or not?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “You know that is not what I meant. I only wish you would take the time to reason with Mother, instead of trying your best to upset her.”
“Forgive me, but I long ago gave up trying to be the voice of reason in our discussions. When we first married, I did my best to bring sense into our conversations, but never succeeded. By the time you were born, I had given it up altogether, seeing no reason to waste my time or energy on a lost cause.”
“Could you try once more for me? The result might surprise you.”
“And it might not, which I believe the more probable outcome, knowing your mother as I do.”
He raised his glass but paused before drinking. “I am going to Netherfield tomorrow to speak with Darcy. Is it still your intention to accompany me, or are you otherwise committed?”
“You know I have no other plans.” Elizabeth rose from the table and moved to the door. “I will be ready to leave as soon as you are finished with your breakfast.”
Bennet chuckled and took a long drink before setting his glass aside. Without another word, he left the sitting room and made his way, as usual, to the library and the comfort of his books.
* * *
“The carriage is waiting,” Bennet called the next morning as Elizabeth selected a wrap from the cloakroom. “It is time to leave, unless you decided to stay behind after all.”
“I promised I would call today and intend to keep my word,” she said, stepping from the room to join her father at the waiting carriage.
“Where is Jane?” she asked as she settled into her seat. “Miss Bingley is expecting her.”
“Your sister went ahead.” Her father’s smile suggested a private joke. “She said she did not wish to keep anyone waiting, and Miss Bingley, for her part, makes much of Jane’s usefulness in tending to her brother. Jane insists her reasons are innocent, but I suspect other motives.”
Elizabeth laughed as the carriage jolted into motion. Jane’s real reason for visiting Netherfield had more to do with Mr. Bingley’s company than any desire to spend time with his disagreeable sibling.