“W elcome. Welcome,” Mrs. Philips said as she glanced at the doorway to her sitting room before turning to close the window, through which she had called a happy good morning to her nieces as they approached her house, and also through which she been given an introduction to their companions as they stood in the front garden.
Apparently, it did not bother her in the least that all her neighbours knew exactly who was calling.
“Do come in, gentlemen, and have a seat. I was quite delighted to hear that you would be joining us for tea.”
Darcy and Bingley made their way into a cosy drawing room that was neatly decorated and welcoming. Mrs. Philips’s exuberant greeting declared her to indeed be Mrs. Bennet’s sister, for they were very alike in enjoying company.
“Tea will be ready in just a few minutes. I called for it as soon as I saw you turn this direction.” She looked out the window, peering out it to her right, then, tilting her head to look in the same direction but at a slightly different angle.
It seemed to Darcy that she was just as distractible as her sister, but with the benefit of a better vantage point from which to view all that was happening in Meryton, for the window through which she looked appeared to have a better than acceptable view of High Street.
“Did you invite Mr. Denny and that handsome friend of his to join us?” she asked Miss Lydia.
“No, because Mary hurried me away before I could.” This was accompanied by a stern glare and a scowl directed at Miss Mary.
Miss Lydia might be unhappy about not having Wickham and his friend join them for tea, but Darcy was not. It was far better that Miss Lydia suffer a bit of frustration at the hands of her sister than be tangled up in some scheme of Wickham’s which would leave her with far more lasting scars.
Mrs. Philips sighed loudly as if utterly disappointed. “In that case, I suppose that I will have to meet whomever he is on another day.”
“His name is Mr. Wickham,” Miss Lydia informed her aunt.
And not worth your notice, Darcy added to himself. How was Georgiana going to survive having that cad so close when she arrived at Netherfield?
“Oh, that seems to be a good name,” Mrs. Philips said. “Do you suppose Mr. Wickham would like to attend a dinner and card party?”
Would he? Oh, Darcy knew he would. Wickham was adept at being the center of attention at any party he attended, and he absolutely delighted in any opportunity he was given to tempt fate by placing wagers — whether he could afford to place them or not. And usually, he could not.
How many times had Darcy seen to the reconciliation of his debts to keep him from becoming a bloodied mess when they were at school and Wickham had left one debt too many unpaid to particular people? The number was at least as many times as Darcy had fingers on one hand.
All the people of Meryton, but most especially the Bennets and all those dear to them, did not deserve to be treated to the mischief of George Wickham. But how did he relay this information without giving Wickham a reason to share secrets about his sister?
Surely, Richard would see Wickham pay for the indiscretion of speaking freely about what happened in Ramsgate, but that would not expunge the stories from the minds of the people who had heard them.
Nor would it paint Darcy in a good light.
Wickham had always been good at twisting things so that he appeared to be either the hero or the victim of a story.
He was never at fault – not completely. It was always someone else who had taken advantage of him and created his misfortune.
“Mr. Wickham adores card games,” Mr. Bingley inserted into Miss Lydia and her aunt’s conversation.
He shared a knowing look with Darcy. Bingley knew of what he spoke, for he had known Wickham for many years. He had played a game or two with the blackguard and never been paid what was owing him. He also knew about how the man had treated Georgiana.
“However,” Bingley continued, “I would advise that you play without any wagers if he is to attend.”
Mrs. Philips gasped and then, whispered, “Is he a gambler?”
“He does like to test his good fortune,” Bingley answered.
“However, his supply of good fortune is somewhat lacking and his promptness in paying his debts is even more wanting.” Bingley looked to his right and his left and then lowered his voice.
“Not that I would tell just anyone that, but since you are Miss Bennet’s aunt, I thought it was appropriate. ”
Darcy relaxed into his chair. The warning bell had been sounded, and he had not been the one required to do it. He would have to thank Bingley for that later.
Mrs. Philips was silent for a moment as she stood near the door to the sitting room.
“I will have Cook make some small biscuits, and we can use those like we used to do when the girls were little. It really is great fun to play that way.” She poked her head out the sitting room door. “Ah, the tea is here.”
A moment later, a maid entered with the tea tray.
“You must tell me all about yourselves.” Mrs. Philips shifted her attention from Darcy to the teacup she was filling and then gave a quick look toward her nieces. “Jane or Elizabeth, would one of you be so kind as to help me?”
“I will, Aunt.”
Miss Elizabeth rose and began to prepare the cups of tea.
A touch of sweetness and a bit of milk for him.
Nothing at all for Bingley. Only milk for her eldest sister and so on.
Each one, it seemed, was prepared just how the person would like it.
At least, he knew for certain that both his and Bingley’s were.
He nodded his thanks as he took a sip of his tea.
“I understand you have an estate in Derbyshire that is quite valuable.” Mrs. Philips had returned to the topic of conversation she had selected before she had begun pouring.
You are correct. I do have a large estate in Derbyshire. Pemberley is the name.”
“That is a grand sounding name.”
“It has been in the family for many generations.”
“Oh, how lovely! And has it always been in the Darcy name or have there been others who tended it before who were called something else? My husband, you see, has explained to me some of how things can shift for one reason or another.” Here, she glanced at Mr. Collins.
Darcy rested his cup on his saucer and smiled, imagining that her thoughts were with her sister’s plight and Mr. Collins’s role in the unfortunate circumstances, which, sadly, were not very unusual.
“We have been fortunate,” he said, “to be blessed with at least one male heir in each generation up until now. However, there is no fear of my wife, when I marry, or my sister, should I die before I marry and have children, being left without a home. My grandfather made certain that all the particulars were secured in his will before he died. It was just around the time that a bout of illness struck Derbyshire. He only had one son, but he had a wife and three daughters. Therefore, when my father became ill – even though, as it turned out, it was only slightly worse than trifling – my grandfather immediately called his solicitor and made certain that Pemberley would not have to be given to a distant relation merely because there were no males to inherit.”
“I should not say it, I suppose.” Mrs. Philips offered him a plate of sweets from which to pick a tasty morsel.
“But, in my opinion, that is how it should always be.” Again, her eyes flicked to Mr. Collins, who had surprisingly been rather quiet until this moment, when he made a small sound of disagreement.
“I think you have the right of it,” Darcy said while looking intently at Mr. Collins. “Had it not been for my uncle having been of a similar mind, my aunt, Lady Catherine, and cousin Anne might have found themselves at the mercy of a relation when Sir Lewis left them.”
If he had hoped that a comment like that might forestall whatever nonsense his aunt’s parson might spout, he was to be disappointed.
“While I am certain that it has been a blessing and most fortunate,” the man began, “I cannot deem it as the way things should be. There is an order to creation that has been set in place by God Himself. We mortals do not always follow it, but God is forgiving and the receiver of the property that has been dispensed of, against the preordained example, may indeed find it a blessing and not a curse since they are not the transgressor.”
“Transgressor?” The word seemed to leap from Miss Mary’s lips. “Transgressor, indeed! I do think you have a very strange way of reading scripture.”
“Mary,” Elizabeth whispered in a cautionary tone. Not that her next youngest sister seemed willing to heed the warning.
Mary glanced quickly at Elizabeth before continuing, with no little amount of sharpness to her words.
“It is the transgression of a man if he does not see to the provision for his family," she said.
"Even if it is not very much, he must do it. The transgression comes when he tosses his wife and daughters to the side without a means of support. Have you forgotten how the scriptures are riddled with commands to see to the care of the widow and orphan?”
Mr. Collins lifted his chin and looked down his nose at his cousin. “Have you read them?”
“I most certainly have.”
“All of them?”
Mary scowled. “Nearly.”
Mr. Collins shook his head. "Be that as it may, my dear cousin, one must realize that reading does not equate to understanding.”
“Are you truly saying that Miss Mary is lacking understanding?” Darcy asked in shock.
“I am not saying that directly, but…”
“Then you are a fool!” Darcy interrupted his attempted explanation, causing the man's eyes to grow wide in surprise.
“From everything that I have seen of Miss Mary since arriving in Hertfordshire, which, I will remind you, was much earlier than your arrival, I would deem her to be a lady of sense and capable of understanding what she reads, or in the case that she does not, I am certain she is in possession of the ability to seek out help.” He looked to Elizabeth.
“I am not wrong in this assessment, am I?”
“No, not at all,” she replied. “Our education might not be what some would deem classical, but I assure you that it has not be wanting. At least, not very.”
Darcy smiled at her and then, turned his attention back to Mr. Collins. “It is faulty thinking such as you possess, sir, that often leads to women being placed in tenuous situations. Does Lady Catherine know that you hold females in such low esteem?”
“I do not hold them in low esteem. I hold them where they were placed.” He lifted his hand high in the air.
“God.” He lowered it a bit. “Man.” He lowered it some more.
“Woman.” He once again lifted his chin. “When anyone deems to lift another from their place to one that is higher, then they transgress. A male should be found to inherit.”
Darcy only just kept himself from rolling his eyes at the man’s ignorance and pomposity. “You are wrong.”
“There is a story,” Miss Kitty said. Her forehead was furrowed deep with thought.
“I will have to ask Papa where it is, but I remember him reading it from the Bible to me when I was about ten and had asked about what inheritance meant. It had five daughters in it.” She smiled at her sisters.
“I remember it because that was just like us.” She turned to Darcy.
“They inherited their father’s land because God said they should.
I am sorry that I do not remember more than that. ”
“Do you know which story that is, Mr. Collins?” Bingley asked.
Finally, the arrogant parson looked unsure of himself as he muttered that he did not. At least, he did not claim that his cousin had made it up.
“Are you sure it was from the Bible?”
Darcy groaned. The man was going to insinuate that his cousin was not being truthful! This fellow was as bad as Wickham for casting shadow on anyone who did not agree with him.
“Oh, yes,” Kitty cried. “I know what the Bible looks like.”
“But you did not read it for yourself, did you?” Mr. Collins asked.
“No, Papa asked Lydia to read it because she was not paying attention. He often did that,” she explained to Darcy.
“That is a very good way to do things,” Darcy assured her.
“Was Miss Lydia a good reader?” Mr. Collins was still pursuing his quest to prove himself superior, was he?
“It matters not!” Darcy barked. “Mr. Bennet is perfectly capable of assisting his daughter to read if she struggles. I find it, sir, to be insupportable that you continue down this line of thought designed to humiliate your cousins and, by extension, cast aspersions on all members of their sex, as well as my grandfather and Lady Catherine’s husband.
I am not certain how you came to hold your current living, but I am not altogether convinced that you should continue to hold it.
A warning will be written to my aunt that your understanding of some matters might not be as they should be. ”
“I say! It is not so dire as that!” Mr. Collins cried. “I am certain that I have the right of it.”
“And I am certain you do not.”
Bingley stood and turned to Mrs. Philips.
“I must apologize for leaving so soon after arriving, but we are expected at Longbourn. It has been lovely to meet you, madame, and your hospitality is superior. I look forward to dining with you, playing cards, and eating all the biscuits that are forfeited to me.” He extended a hand to Miss Bennet, who took it and rose, signalling that the rest of their party should also rise.
“May Kitty and I stay longer?” Lydia asked her eldest sister. “So that we can help plan the party?”
“Do not stay too long,” Miss Bennet replied. “Mama will worry if you do.”
“I will stay, too,” Mary said.
“But you do not like planning parties,” Lydia protested.
“Today, I do,” Mary snapped before sending Mr. Collins a withering glare.
“I will keep them an hour and then send them on their way,” Mrs. Philips assured Miss Bennet. “Thank you for your company,” she said to one and all, “and your support, sir, of the gentler sex.” She dipped her head in a grateful bow to Darcy.
“It has been a pleasure, madame.” And with those parting words, he and Miss Elizabeth, along with her sister and Bingley and, unfortunately, Mr. Collins, departed for Longbourn.