Page 40

CHAPTER 40

Mr. Collins Intrudes

T he Livesays were not the only visitors to Longbourn that day.

Shortly after their arrival, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were warmly welcomed, prompting the gentlemen to retreat to the study for private discussion while the ladies gathered in the drawing room to continue preparations for the following day’s wedding.

It had been a pleasant and purposeful afternoon—until, precisely at four o’clock, an entirely different sort of guest made his appearance.

Mr. William Collins arrived at Longbourn, exactly as his letter had foretold.

Despite his cousin writing telling him to delay his visit, Mr. Collins, after consultation with his esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, determined that such advice could only stem from excessive modesty.

Confident in the correctness of his original intentions, he adhered strictly to his plan to arrive on the last Monday of October and saw no reason to trouble his cousin with further correspondence to inform him of this fact.

He was, therefore, distinctly disappointed to find that no members of the family were assembled to greet him upon his arrival as he had expected.

Once again, he was displeased when he knocked and discovered that he was, in fact, not expected.

“The Master is not receiving callers at the moment. If you will leave your card, I will let him know about your visit,” Hill said, standing in the door in a way that made it impossible for the clergyman to enter.

“But I am expected,” Mr. Collins cried, “and I am family. Even if Mr. Bennet did not realise I would come precisely as I said, I should be allowed a room in the house that will one day be mine.”

“You were not expected,” Hill stated firmly, speaking with the confidence of one long in his position.

“All the invited guests are here already, and every room in the house is occupied. I can see if the master will speak to you, but you will most likely have to stay at the inn.”

Mr. Collins spluttered a response, but Hill ignored him, shutting the door in his face.

A few moments later, he returned with Bennet behind him.

He opened the door, allowing Bennet to exit before shutting the door once again.

“Mr. Collins, I presume,” Bennet said, his sardonic tone completely escaping his cousin.

“Yes, and you must be Mr. Bennet, my cousin,” Mr. Collins replied with a bow.

To his displeasure, it was not returned.

“Why are you here, Mr. Collins? You wrote to indicate you would come, but I wrote back and informed you that it was not opportune for you to visit my family at this time. We had already invited guests, and I am afraid to say, just as I informed you in my letter, we have no place for you to stay,” Bennet replied.

“But I did not truly believe you meant it,” Mr. Collins protested, his tone full of self-importance.

“Surely, as the heir to this estate, I am at liberty to visit whenever I see fit, particularly when I come to offer you an olive branch as I mentioned in my letter. Indeed, I had fully intended to extend my generous offer to marry one of your daughters so that they might not be cast out of their home upon the occasion of your, ah, inevitable departure to your eternal reward.”

“I have ensured that my wife and daughters will be well cared for when I die,” Bennet said coolly.

“They will not be reliant upon your generosity—or lack thereof. Furthermore, it is customary for one to wait for an invitation before visiting a near stranger, regardless of one’s position as heir presumptive. I replied to your letter quite clearly, indicating that a visit at this time was not feasible, and asked you to delay it until the spring.”

Mr. Collins’s eyes widened, and he placed a hand to his chest in dramatic affront.

“My dear sir, I am quite distressed that you should take offense where none was intended. Lady Catherine always encourages me to act decisively in matters of family duty. Indeed, she often remarks that one must lead by example. It was under her wise counsel that I determined my visit would be both timely and welcome. After all,” he added with an ingratiating smile, “what better occasion to solidify familial bonds than in the days surrounding a wedding? Particularly one so—ah—elevated.”

He glanced around, clearly expecting some acknowledgment of the honour his presence surely bestowed.

“What is this wedding you speak of?” Bennet asked, eyeing the man with distaste.

“Why, that of your daughters to me,” Collins proclaimed.

“Given my status as your heir and my elevated rank, surely you could not object to my desire to marry one of your daughters, and bind our families together after so many years of, um, misunderstandings.”

“Elevated?” Bennet scoffed.

“You are a rector, not a duke, nor a bishop. Nor are any of my daughters presently engaged to you, nor will they be unless they wish it. Regardless of your expectations, you are not entitled to arrive at my home whenever you see fit, particularly when you have been informed that your visit is not welcome at that time. Now, excuse me, I am neglecting my invited guests.”

“But…” Mr. Collins spluttered, his mouth opening and closing in helpless indignation.

Bennet, however, paid him no mind.

Without another word, he turned and stepped through the door, pushing it firmly shut behind him.

Collins could only gape at the now-closed portal as the soft click of the latch sounded, sealing him out—the conversation firmly over.

The hack Mr. Collins had hired had left promptly after leaving him at his destination.

He had little choice but to drag his trunk the entire mile into the village of Meryton, only to learn that the next mail coach would not arrive until noon the following day.

Unused to such exertion, it had taken him more than an hour to walk the mile, and he was utterly exhausted when he arrived.

Mr. Collins had tried to have his stay charged to Longbourn, but the proprietor of the inn had refused, claiming that Bennet had not authorised anyone new to make charges on his behalf.

When Collins had attempted to claim that it was his right as a “man of God,” the innkeeper had laughed in his face.

Reluctantly, Mr. Collins had paid the amount requested for the night’s stay at the inn as well as the additional fee for a meal and several pints of ale.

As he sat alone in the main dining room of the inn, Mr. Collins was thoroughly enjoying his meal—until a familiar name floated into his ears from a nearby table.

“Pardon me,” he said, leaning towards the man seated at the next table.

“Did I hear you mention Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy? ”

The man, red-cheeked and well into his second pint, turned with an amiable nod.

“Aye, that’s right. Miss Lizzy—one of the Bennet girls—is to be married tomorrow. To a Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, just come to the area a few weeks ago.”

Mr. Collins blinked in disbelief.

“They announced the wedding at church yesterday,” the man continued, oblivious to Collins’s growing alarm.

“Caught most of us by surprise, to be honest. Seems there was some reason for all the secrecy, but no one knows for sure. It may have something to do with the officer who was arrested, but nothing has been said for certain. Still, everyone’s pleased. Miss Lizzy’s well-liked, and it’s clear the gentleman’s taken with her and she with him. They make a fine pair, or so we’ve all said. From what I gather, Mr. Darcy owns a great estate up north somewhere. She’ll be missed here, but we wish her well.”

Mr. Collins paled, his mind racing.

“You do not suspect a compromise?” he asked, lowering his voice, his tone tinged with self-importance.

“Are you certain this Mr. Darcy is not…under some obligation to the lady?”

The man gave a shrug.

“Far as anyone knows, it’s a love match. And truth be told, even if it weren’t, no one around here would speak ill of Miss Lizzy or suspect her of anything untoward.”

But Mr. Collins was no longer listening.

Fitzwilliam Darcy, the very same name his esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, had declared was destined for her own daughter.

And now—he was marrying a Bennet?

The same family that had turned him out of his estate, or rather, the estate he would one day inherit.

Outrage and disbelief swelled in his chest. This was not just unexpected.

It was unacceptable.

He would have to find a way to stop it.