Page 72 of See, Hear, Speak No Evil, Mr. Darcy
The letter revealed a man anticipating inheriting Longbourn, which could only mean he looked forward to the death of the current master. Mr. Collins had the temerity to suggest that he might marry one of his daughters, thereby easing the transition of the estate to his heirs.How thoughtful of you, Mr. Collins.This very man would soon cast a shadow on Longbourn’s door.
“No doubt, Lizzy will add this to my list of offenses.”Because it seemed an inconvenient time to pen a reply, we areall to suffer this man’s company. I cannot even recall which book I did not want to set aside long enough to scribble a request to the man that he delay his visit. I have done nothing to prevent my daughters from being dependent upon him for their every need.Bennet slammed his hand down on a ledger in his frustration.
An hour later, Elizabeth opened the door without knocking. He did not want to imagine what she thought of seeing him pull books off shelves and drop them into crates with such indiscriminate care.
“I think you go too far, sir,” Elizabeth said after a moment’s observance.
“Do you?”
“You do. What fresh catastrophe has brought this on today?”
“Better you read it for yourself.” Bennet handed the letter to his daughter.
Elizabeth reviewed the contents of the letter. He knew by her pinched expression when she had read the part about Collins extending an olive branch, hinting at marrying one of his daughters. She said nothing, however, looking up in alarm when she understood the man was to arrive this very day.
“Did you not say Mr. Collins, this man’s father, was cruel toward your sister?”
“I am certain I glossed over his brutality,” Bennet said, tossing a selection of his favorite books into the crate.
“Stop acting the petulant child. If this is what you intend, then there is a proper way to choose titles. You will not sell those books that you enjoy time and time again. That can but lead to regret and worse. Take them all out and go through them in a patient, methodical exercise. Determine those that do not appeal to your taste or volumes you know you will not enjoy a second time. If you wish to re-read any you’ve chosen to sell, you mightrequest it from the circulating library. And your cousin, how long have you known of his coming visit? Above a month? Two?”
“I intended to tell him to delay until next year,” Bennet said, his tone clipped.
“It stands to reason there are consequences if one procrastinates so long that they cannot act.”
“When you see her, tell your mother I would like a moment of her time. I must inform her of our…guest.”
“I will. Perhaps you might take the time to refresh yourself, for it is obvious you slept in that shirt. I always thought it amusing to catch you on the mornings you fell asleep in here. Now I know it is not amusing at all.”
Wincing when the door to his study closed behind Elizabeth, Bennet calculated nine hours before the impending arrival of his cousin. Newly determined, he pulled the books out of the crates. Elizabeth was correct in describing how he should go about it. Requesting a tray, Bennet went to his room to refresh himself. Once he returned, he intended to approach the task with more care.
Elizabeth's comment about his acting like a child had been both apropos and barbarous. She, like the rest of his daughters, had a character that delved deeper than he once perceived. And even greater was his pleasure in finding his wife to have much more to her character than he had ascribed. However, it was also the gravest of his slights. This was not just a task he had ignored; it brought to light how he had too long and too often ignored the woman he had pledged to spend his life alongside.
He regretted Elizabeth’s departing, knowing no one else might come to the study throughout the whole course of the morning. His oft-professed hopes for quiet while dismissing his wife and daughters echoed in the silence of the room. It was a revelation to him that he would prefer to spend the day inconversation with any of the women in his household. What irony, for just now, not one woman in his household wished to speak to him.
Mr. Collins’s arrival at exactly four in the afternoon was momentous in two ways. The first was that he was smaller in stature than Lydia and grimaced when he picked up his satchel. Second, he seemed the opposite of his brutal father, possessing a subservient nature. His compliments were so excessive that they tended toward the absurd, especially when speaking of his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Bennet had to commend his daughters and wife. They pretended to be interested throughout the forty minutes his cousin droned on. Although, he was uncertain if any could state a single subject of the man’s ramblings beyond the name of his benefactress.
Himself being desperate for any conversation, he could account with accuracy that the man spoke at length of his appointment as the great lady’s parson, and of his living at Hunsford Parsonage. The expansive decorating scheme of Rosings Park. How Mr. Collins was happily situated in his “humble” abode, which abutted Lady Catherine’s estate, separated from it by only a lane.
At dinner, Mr. Collins explained, in painstaking detail, preparations he had made in advance of encountering the opposite sex. Ones that included practicing his compliments and assuring them all that ladies would be pleased by his efforts. This was the singular variance in his conversation from what he had spoken of since his arrival.
When Bennet saw Mr. Collins sidle up to his wife once they gathered for tea in the drawing room, he moved closer,intending to intervene if his cousin should express an interest in marrying one of their daughters.
“I want to assure you, Mrs. Bennet, that Lady Catherine has perfect understanding of how you feel of my inheriting. She informed me that I am to marry one of your daughters. Can you imagine a better solution? Of course, Cousin Jane is the eldest and owns the greater portion of beauty amongst your daughters. I intend that we marry the week after the banns are read.”
“I know not how a woman so unconnected to me has any understanding of my opinions concerning the entail. Do not protest, Mr. Collins, I am well allowed my considerations here in my home where I am mistress.”
“But she is certain—”
“I care not. Here at Longbourn, I am mistress. And though saying so may mean you might throw me out of my home when my husband is dead, I find the hedgerows preferable company. I will not force one of my daughters to marry you. Or anyone, for that matter. And they, none of them, will grovel before your benefactress. Should you decide to cast your hat at one of my girls, you may work to gain their good opinion as a proper suitor should. If she rejects your suit, you must seek a wife elsewhere.”
“But I have a living and the notice of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Your daughters would benefit from my wife’s acquaintance with so esteemed a lady. And they would keep this house.”
“So you say, Mr. Collins. But my daughters are all intelligent creatures. They know better than to allow shelves to take up the whole of a closet, as you say your mistress prescribes. Lady Catherine de Bourgh tells you what you will eat, plant, and even when you should write your cousin. Your patroness is proven ridiculous by your recounting.”
Staring at his hostess, Mr. Collins sputtered incoherently. Once he could speak above his indignation, he turned to their daughters. “I am certain all of you recognize the benefits of my situation. I may have chosen Miss Bennet, but I am pleased to offer each of my cousins instruction on all that is moral.”
