Page 19 of To Love And To Cherish (Pride And Prejudice Variation #3)

It had been three days since Elizabeth and Jane returned to Longbourn.

Jane, though no longer feverish, remained pale and weary, rarely leaving her chamber except for supper.

The household had returned to its usual rhythm when, at breakfast that morning, Mr. Bennet drew a folded paper from his breast pocket with a theatrical flourish.

"About a month ago," he announced, "I received this letter, and a fortnight past, I replied to it. I deemed it a matter of some delicacy, requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases."

Mrs. Bennet shrieked. "He wrote back to you?

Oh, my dear! I cannot bear to hear that odious man mentioned.

Pray, do not speak of him! It is the greatest injustice in the world that your own daughters should be denied their rightful inheritance.

If I had been in your place, I should have done something long ago to prevent it. "

"Nevertheless," Mr. Bennet continued, unperturbed, "I have here his answer, should anyone wish to read it."

Mrs. Bennet snatched the letter from his hand and began reading aloud the choicest parts:

"Having received ordination at Easter, I was most fortunate to be granted the living of Hunsford by the Right Honorable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh.

.. Being next in the entail of Longbourn, I hope that this circumstance will not prejudice me in your eyes, and that you will accept the offered olive branch.

.. I am most desirous of making amends for the injury my inheritance might one day cause your daughters, and should be honored to call upon you and your family, should you be willing to receive me. "

At this, Mrs. Bennet grew pensive. "He is prepared to offer for one of our daughters. A man with a valuable living! And he wishes to make amends!"

Elizabeth and Mary exchanged knowing glances. They could wager on whom their mother had in mind, and the matchmaking would be relentless.

"Of course, it must be Elizabeth," Mrs. Bennet declared. "She has been trained these several years in the running of the estate. She knows the fields, the accounts, and the ledgers. Mr. Collins would ruin Longbourn without her guidance."

Elizabeth said nothing. She and Mary had already read the letter when their father first received it the previous month.

At the time, she had asked her father about the rector.

“He must be an oddity, I think. I cannot make him out. There is something very pompous in his style. And what can he mean by apologizing for being next in the entail? We cannot suppose he could help it, even if he would. Can he be a sensible man, sir?”

“No, my dear, I think not,” Mr. Bennet had replied, amusement dancing in his eyes. “There is a promising mixture of obsequiousness and self-importance in his letter. I have high hopes that he will prove delightfully absurd.”

Her father’s levity had vexed Elizabeth. “Papa, my mother will insist upon my marrying Mr. Collins. From his letter alone, I know we should not suit, and I will not marry him.”

“Do not concern yourself, Elizabeth. You and I have already spoken of this eventuality. Mary is more suited to a rector than any of my daughters. If she wishes to have him, I will do everything I can to help her.”

“Please, may I show this letter to Mary? It is only right that she see it, since she may be pressed into a marriage with the man.”

Mr. Bennet had acquiesced, “Yes, show it to Mary, by all means. I will do everything I can to help her; I have given you my word.”

But Elizabeth had not been convinced.

She knew her father too well; his indolence and aversion to confrontation were long established. If she were to escape such a fate, she must contrive her own rescue. And she had already chosen her course, pursuing the opportunity with Mary King until all was nearly in place for her escape.

Elizabeth roused herself from her reverie and turned to observe how her younger sister received their mother’s plans.

Mary sat with her eyes lowered, her expression disheartened.

She had often confided to Elizabeth her longing to be a parson’s wife, reminding her how much of her time was spent copying sermons or reading scripture to the tenants.

"Mary," she asked gently, "do you still wish to be wife to Mr. Collins?"

Mary nodded shyly. "I do. I feel a calling to such a life."

"Then go to Papa. Tell him the truth. Mamma has her hopes fixed on me, but I have no desire to marry the man, and I already told him so last month.

You heard her. Jane and Lydia are destined for greater matches, and she has fixed on me for the rector.

But I think you would be best suited to him.

I am going out for my walk as Georgiana will surely be waiting. When I return, tell me how it went."

Hope lit Mary’s face. "I shall speak to him now."

"Be honest," Elizabeth warned, "but do not press. Only let him know your wishes."

With that, she donned her pelisse and set off.

The path to Oakham Mount gave her the solitude she needed.

The situation with Mr. Collins weighed heavily upon her.

If her mother prevailed, Elizabeth's own future would be sacrificed to secure her family’s.

She could not bear it. To marry without esteem was bad enough; to marry a fool out of duty was unbearable.

She reached the summit early and sat upon the log where she and Georgiana often met. But when hoofbeats sounded, she turned and saw not only her friend but also Mr. Darcy.

Her heart sank.

Georgiana dismounted and, noting Elizabeth's distressed countenance, asked with concern, "Elizabeth, is Jane worse?"

Elizabeth attempted a smile, but it was feeble.

Darcy stepped forward. "You are upset. What can we do?"

Tears filled Elizabeth’s eyes before she could stop them. Georgiana dropped her reins and ran to embrace her, while Darcy placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"Miss Elizabeth," he said quietly, "it cannot be so very dreadful, unless someone is gravely ill. But you are not given to tears. What has happened?"

She took the handkerchief he offered and pressed it to her face, shaking her head.

After a few moments, she managed, "Forgive me.

A letter arrived this morning from the man who will inherit Longbourn.

He is coming next week. Mamma has decided I am to marry him.

I read his letter. He is pompous and insensible.

I always hoped to respect my husband. I do not believe I could respect this man.

But if he offers, and I refuse, my family will remain unprotected. "

She wept anew, and they led her to sit. Georgiana remained close, and Darcy took her hand.

When her tears had abated, he asked, "How do you know he is so unsuitable?"

"It is all here," she said, handing him the letter.

Darcy scanned it. "Hunsford... Lady Catherine de Bourgh! This must be her new rector. My aunt mentioned appointing someone four months ago. If he has managed to please her, he must indeed be a singular specimen."

He glanced up. "Would Jane take him?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, that would be even worse. Jane is too gentle for such a man. But Mary, she would suit him. She already acts the part. I would be the absolute worst candidate as I’m an obstinate, headstrong girl."

Darcy smiled. “Is that an appellation your mother has bestowed upon you?”

"Daily," Elizabeth admitted with a weak laugh.

He stood. "Then you must not marry him. That is easily settled."

She looked up, hopeless. "Mr. Darcy, you do not know my mother."

"I shall soon. Georgiana and I will walk you home. I will explain to your mother precisely why you are the worst possible match for this Mr. Collins. My aunt would never abide you as his wife. But Mary would suit perfectly. I shall ensure he knows it."

Elizabeth stood slowly, astonished.

He offered his arm. "Come, Miss Elizabeth. Let us make an end to this nonsense."

With Georgiana on his other side, the three walked home, the horses trailing behind, forgotten.

Hope stirred in Elizabeth's heart, and for the first time that day, she smiled.