Page 28

Longbourn – Breakfast Room - Mrs Bennet

M rs Bennet had risen early, unusually so, her mind already bustling with schemes.

The house was still quiet as she bustled about the parlour, adjusting a cushion here, straightening a fringe elsewhere, entirely for effect.

There was no one to see her industry, but that hardly mattered.

Mr Collins was due down at any moment, and she meant to be waiting-with a smile, a warm fire, and just enough encouragement to steer him properly.

She had thought long and hard the night before.

Jane-sweet, lovely Jane-was surely too reserved for a man as effusive as Mr Collins.

And if Mr Bingley was already halfway in love with her, as any fool could see, then it would be both impractical and unwise to allow their cousin to fix on her.

No-Elizabeth would be the better choice.

Livelier, certainly, but polite enough when it suited her. And most importantly, unmarried .

When Mr Collins appeared, punctual as ever, and bowed so low she feared he might upset the fire screen, Mrs Bennet beamed.

“Good morning, sir,” she said with studied cheer. “Did you sleep well?”

“Most excellently, madam. The accommodations are all I could have hoped for-far beyond the usual comforts afforded a humble clergyman.”

“Well, I am glad of it,” she said, motioning him to sit near the hearth. “We do what we can.”

“A testament, I am certain, to the domestic virtue of this household,” Mr Collins replied.

She allowed him to rhapsodise for a moment on the softness of the pillows and the admirable draughtiness of the corridor windows-Lady Catherine, it seemed, believed air circulation to be the first defence against illness-before deftly redirecting the conversation to Hunsford.

“I daresay the parsonage must be a great deal of work for one man,” she observed meaningfully.

Mr Collins took the bait as neatly as if she had set it on a plate. “Indeed, madam! It is a neat little establishment, but the duties are considerable. And Lady Catherine has made it quite plain that she believes such a situation to be improved-immeasurably-by the presence of a… companion.”

Mrs Bennet simpered. “And rightly so, I am sure. A wife brings… well, a natural order to things. And there is much to be said for making a prudent choice.”

“Exactly so!” he said, adjusting his cravat. “It is my intention, while here, to make such a choice, if Providence smiles upon me. I have heard so much of the beauty and accomplishments of your daughters.”

Mrs Bennet offered her most winning smile. “I cannot speak to accomplishments, but I will say they are all good girls. Of course,” she added, stirring the fire just so, “one must be practical. Our eldest-dear Jane-is likely to be… otherwise engaged very soon.”

Mr Collins sat back, brows rising with solemn understanding. “Ah. I see.”

“Of the younger girls,” she went on lightly, “I cannot say there are any particular prepossessions.”

“Indeed,” Mr Collins murmured. “Indeed.”

Mrs Bennet sipped her tea and allowed herself a moment of silent triumph. By the time the others descended for breakfast, the future was already rearranging itself quite neatly in her mind.

He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice to a tone of concerned enquiry. “May I ask-was Miss Elizabeth’s injury very serious? I confess I was not informed of the particulars, only that she was hurt while away from home.”

Mrs Bennet gave a dramatic sigh. “It was most distressing, I assure you. My poor Jane was taken ill while visiting friends, and Lizzy, dear girl, insisted on going to her aid. Walked through the rain, would you believe it? And on the return journey-oh, such a dreadful accident. The carriage overturned. A lesser girl might have suffered terribly.”

Mr Collins’s eyes widened, both hands clutching his teacup. “How shocking!”

“And yet she bore it all with such composure,” Mrs Bennet continued, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief that had not previously been in evidence.

“She would not leave her sister’s side, even when injured herself.

Such courage. Such selflessness. Why-even the gentlemen involved were quite overcome. ”

This last detail was added with just enough emphasis to pique his interest.

“I see,” he said slowly. “Truly, an admirable display of sisterly affection and feminine fortitude. Lady Catherine often remarks on the importance of natural delicacy and strength of character in a prospective bride…”

Mrs Bennet’s smile grew fixed. “Indeed, sir. I am sure she would be most gratified to see such traits in Miss Elizabeth.”

* * *

Longbourn – Hallway – Elizabeth

Jane and Elizabeth descended together, the latter taking each step with careful deliberation and leaning lightly on her sister’s arm. Her walking stick clicked softly against the floorboards, and her brow was furrowed in concentration.

Mr Collins, who had just stepped out into the hall to admire a print of Rosings Park that Mrs Bennet had placed strategically on the sideboard, turned at the sound and hurried forward.

“Miss Elizabeth,” he said, with solemn gallantry, “allow me the honour of assisting you.”

Before Elizabeth could protest, he had reached her side and offered his arm with great ceremony. Elizabeth hesitated, then accepted-more from practicality than inclination.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, as he steadied her down the last few steps.

Mr Bennet, appearing at the foot of the stairs, took in the scene with raised brows and a flicker of amusement.

“My dear,” he said to Elizabeth, “it seems you have a most attentive escort.”

Elizabeth bit back a smile. “Indeed, Papa. I am quite well-supported.”

Mr Collins beamed. “It is the least I can do, sir, for such a courageous young lady. I only regret I was not present to offer my assistance at the time of her misfortune. ”

“I daresay your absence saved you a good deal of inconvenience,” Mr Bennet said dryly, and turned back toward the breakfast room.

Elizabeth, still holding Mr Collins’s arm, exchanged a quick glance with Jane, who covered her mouth to hide a smile as they followed.

Mr Bennet was reading his newspaper, and Mrs Bennet was already extolling the merits of the boiled eggs. Kitty and Lydia, bursting with energy, were eagerly discussing a walk to Meryton.

“Oh, it is such a fine day,” Lydia said, helping herself to toast. “We must go to Meryton-to see if Denny has return from town.”

“Indeed, I must see if the milliner has received her new lace,” Kitty added.

Elizabeth, sipping her tea, caught Jane’s eye and smiled faintly.

“Its been an age since we saw the officers,” Lydia insisted.

Mary, seated with her customary solemnity, interjected, “I hope you do not mean to waste an entire morning in idle gossip and frippery.”

“Of course we do,” Kitty said brightly.

Kitty leaned toward Jane. “Will you come with us?”

“No, thank you. I will stay here with Lizzy.” Jane replied.

Mr Collins appeared torn, between his wish to stay with Elizabeth and see more of the area.

After breakfast, Mr Bennet retreated to his library, as was his habit, and opened a large folio with deliberate ceremony. He had scarcely read two sentences before Mr Collins entered, clutching a small volume of Fordyce’s Sermons and looking very pleased with himself.

“My dear sir,” he began, “what a delightfully extensive collection you possess. I hope you do not mind my joining you-I find myself drawn to the quiet contemplation afforded by such a room.”

Mr Bennet smiled thinly. “Quiet contemplation is indeed to be treasured.”

Mr Collins, apparently immune to subtlety, seated himself with great solemnity and began to extol the virtues of his own modest library at Hunsford, seguing neatly into a detailed account of Lady Catherine’s most recent visit to his humble abode.

After a quarter of an hour, Mr Bennet closed his book.

“I wonder, Mr Collins, if you would care to accompany my daughters on their walk to Meryton. The weather is so fine, and I am sure they would benefit from your company.”

Mr Collins looked gratified. “Indeed, sir, I should be delighted. Fresh air is so beneficial. Lady Catherine often says-”

Mr Bennet rose before he could finish. “Capital. I shall tell them to expect you.”

He ushered Mr Collins from the room and closed the door behind him with something like relief.

The girls were already gathering their bonnets and pelisses. Mary had announced her intention to remain behind, claiming a desire to study moral philosophy. Lydia and Kitty were fussing over whose ribbon best matched whose spencer.

Mr Collins descended with ceremonial cheer and informed them of his happy inclusion in their outing.

“I am instructed to walk with you,” he said proudly. “It will be a pleasure to accompany such charming company.”

Elizabeth, catching Jane’s eye, gave a subtle shrug and resigned smile.

“I shall expect a full report,” she said, settling more comfortably on the settee.

“And I,” said Jane, unfolding her embroidery, “shall look forward to a quiet house.”

Mrs Bennet, having seen the girls off at the door, returned to the drawing room in high spirits.

Elizabeth and Jane had just begun their quiet morning when the horses’ hooves on the gravel stirred both from their thoughts. Hill appeared in the doorway moments later .

“Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy, ma’am,” she said.

Mrs Bennet, seated by the fire with her embroidery basket, looked up with a flurry of excitement. “Oh! Show them in at once, Hill!”

Elizabeth and Jane exchanged a glance.

“Please do,” Jane added, rising quickly.

Elizabeth straightened her skirts and adjusted the pillow beneath her foot as the gentlemen entered.

“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr Bingley warmly. “We hope we do not intrude?”

“Not in the least,” said Jane.

Mr Darcy, behind him, bowed with formal gravity. Elizabeth’s expression warmed-surprised but pleased.

“We were passing near and thought to inquire after your ankle,” Mr Bingley continued.