Page 18 of The Gossip War (Pride and Prejudice Shorts #1)

I was not thrilled with some aspects of my own plan.

We decided, and the Netherfield party agreed, that it was necessary to squash any hint of scandal. Even Miss Bingley had been brought around to the idea that we faced inconvenience while she faced ruin. It was not complicated.

I was still worried she was so vindictive she might go around her brother to investigate my new sister, so I was not entirely convinced Georgiana was safe; but she was as safe as we could make her.

I was also worried for my younger sisters, but as for myself and Jane, I knew we could take whatever she could dish out.

The disagreeable part of the plan was that Fitzwilliam would stay at Netherfield for a week, while the Netherfield party made it known they would spend the season in town, and taking proper leave.

Much as we hated the idea, my mother insisted, and I reluctantly agreed, that Mr Bingley and Jane would have to pretend their nascent relationship had just gone off, as many were wont to do.

It was not the least bit interesting, nothing to see!

The plan suggested they would attend church once again and leave the following Monday. That was not part of the plan, but I suspected William and Jane concocted that to fully impress on them the futility of resistance.

We returned to Longbourn to learn the shocking truth that Longbourn had been infested with the heir apparent. That surprise led to the most startling event of all—more surprising than the compromise attempt or learning Mama was clever by double.

My father apologised to my mother for failing to notify her.

I suppose you would have to know my parents to understand how big of a change that was, but I will not bore you with that, nor will I trouble you with further evidence that they might actually like each other. Who would have thought?

Mr Collins turned out to be even too tedious for Mary, if you can imagine such a thing.

Five minutes’ observation were entirely sufficient to determine he thought he could take his pick, and another quarter hour led me to the unexpected conclusion that my mother was not in accordance with his desire.

I began to wonder how much of her mercenary tendencies were driven by fear, and how much by her nature.

I supposed I might know eventually, but it was food for thought.

By mutual agreement, we decided he could wait to learn of my engagement. I did not know why, but I found myself happy that I was to be married to the best man in the world, and doubly happy I would never have to meet Mr Collins’ patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who sounded like a real tyrant.

The evening went by with Mr Collins endlessly complimenting everything he could see, hear, or guess about. The fact that half the compliments were comparisons to some mansion did not help his cause, but none of us really cared, mostly because we were not listening.

Most of us were so involved in thoughts of our difficult week, the harder negotiations we had just concluded, and our brighter futures, to pay much attention to him.

My mother must have done something dramatic in our absence, because Lydia and Kitty were as quiet and demure as could be asked of any ladies.

I had no idea if she threatened to return them to the schoolroom, to cut off all access to officers, to exclude them from the glorious future Jane would enjoy in London; or worst of all, they might attract Mr Collins’ attention.

I later learned that two things of note turned the evening from completely unbearable to simply annoying.

The first was that Mr Collins, in a quiet conversation with my mother, assented that he was, as expected, in want of a wife.

Mama made it clear in no uncertain terms that Kitty and Lydia were far too young to be wives (we will dispense with any tedious discussion of how big a change that was).

The last was that I was engaged to a gentleman Mr Collins had no possibility of knowing, whom he might meet the next Sunday at church if he yet remained.

She never said so, but I suspect she made some entirely imaginary allusion to Jane being unavailable for some reason.

She seemed barely willing to throw Mary to the wolves if she wanted to become a parson’s wife, and I resolved to speak to Mary if it became necessary.

Mary was not stupid, so she obviously knew her future was secure, and if she did not esteem Mr Collins, she need not waste a word on him.

The second was that Papa, in apparent remorse about failing to warn Mama, fell on his sword and took Mr Collins off to his library for brandy and backgammon.

My esteem for both parents was rising by the minute!