Chapter 11

While Elizabeth was in her room reading and rereading Darcy's letter, Mr. Collins petulantly demanded to talk to Mrs. Bennet.

"I've already told you Mr. Collins, we're having mutton for dinner."

"I did not wish to inquire about dinner. I have already prepared myself for the fact that it will not compare to the gourmet delights that grace Lady Catherine's table. Nothing ever could. But do not distress yourself Mrs. Bennet, I do not expect the same exquisite heights of deliciousness when I dine at Longbourn."

"Do you not?" said Mrs. Bennet sourly, "Well, all I will say is that judging by the way you now fill your jacket you must dine at Lady Catherine's a good deal."

"Oh, I do!" beamed Mr. Collins. "But now I must talk to you about something of a delicate nature."

Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips and rolled her eyes impatiently. "Well, be quick about it! I have a rendez-vous in the garden. What are you wishing to talk of?"

Mr. Collins was canny enough to know that if her nerves and Mr. Bennet's impending death were Mrs. Bennet's two top favourite topics of conversation, then marriage was certainly her third. Therefore when he mentioned the magic word he was not at all surprised to see Mrs. Bennet's frown immediately replaced by an excited smile and a twinkle in her eyes.

"Oh, well if it is of marriage you wish to speak then I am all ears!" cried Mrs. Bennet.

"Shall we go somewhere a little more private?" ventured Mr. Collins.

Soon they were alone in Mrs. Bennet's sitting room. Mrs. Bennet was smiling expectantly at Mr. Collins, "Well, speak Mr. Collins! Speak! Do not be unkind to my nerves. What is it that you have to say? Do you know of some fine, eligible bachelor who will do for one of my girls?"

"In a way...yes."

"In a way?" puzzled Mrs. Bennet.

"Well, Mrs. Bennet the situation is this. As you are aware, my dear Charlotte is expecting a happy event."

Mrs. Bennet's face clouded over, "Happy for some."

"Yes, quite. And we all pray for a safe delivery."

Mrs. Bennet fleetingly sneered.

"But you must own that there is a very real chance, a sad probability that...my dear Charlotte might die."

Mrs. Bennet perked up, "Do go on."

"And if this sad event were to take place then I would need..."

"Another wife!" Mrs. Bennet clasped her hands together in glee.

Mr. Collins nodded solemnly.

"And you mean to marry one of my girls?" ventured Mrs. Bennet.

"Exactly! I see we understand each other."

"Oh we do! We do! Now, who were you thinking of? Kitty is coming along very well and not coughing nearly so much."

"No, not Kitty."

"Mary then? She is so plain and studious, no other man will ever look at her, she will make an ideal parson's wife."

"No, not Mary."

"Lydia?"

Mr. Collins's brow knitted in disapproval, "Certainly not! That unfortunate incident involving Wickham last summer showed her to be deeply unfit to ever be a parson's wife. And besides, she is too tall and has not the shape that I am looking for."

Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips, "Well then who?"

"The incident with Wickham must necessarily cast a shadow over all your daughters..."

"Well, a little fluffy cloud, maybe..."

"I want Elizabeth."

"But she won't have you Mr. Collins."

"But now that there is a shadow..."

"Yes, but you know how she is. That girl is a law unto herself."

"But Elizabeth must recognise that her chances of making a good match are now much reduced. This is a chance to be seized."

"It's not me you have to convince Mr. Collins. I'd be very happy to see Lizzie settled as a parson's wife. Just so long as it's not too nearby. I do find her headstrong nature so vexing."

"A headstrong wife will never do, certainly not for a parson."

"Headstrong? Did I say headstrong? No, no Mr. Bennet you must have misheard me. I meant to say...er...leg strong..."

"Leg strong?"

"Yes."

Mr. Collins wore a puzzled frown, "Whatever does it mean?"

"Well, you know, the way she insists on walking everywhere, even when the horses are free. All that walking hither and dither has made her legs so very strong...so I imagine..." Mrs. Bennet coughed and changed the subject, "If you are set on having my Lizzie then the person you must convince is Mr. Bennet. Although he is no better than her and has some peculiar ideas and I do declare that he cares not a jot for what happens to his family after he is dead. But if Charlotte were to die and you were to marry Lizzie well, then that would be a problem solved."

Mr. Collins thought out loud, "Yes, if I could gain Mr. Bennet's consent then she would have to marry me or risk being sued for breach of promise."

"Oh, it would be the answer to my prayers," cried Mrs. Bennet. "Come! Let us go to Mr. Bennet now and plead your case."

When Elizabeth came down from her room some time later her father beckoned her into the library.

"Father, what is it? What is the matter?"

Mr. Bennet gave a chuckle, "Oh Lizzie, your cousin does not disappoint. He is as absurd as ever."

"In what way?" asked Elizabeth cautiously.

"Why, in the most delightful way! He and Mrs. Bennet have just been in here. You will never guess why. You will never guess their latest plot and stratagem."

Elizabeth felt faint, "Will I not?"

"What do you think but that oaf of a parson has asked to marry you again! Is it not delightful? Are you not highly diverted? He has a wife and is already lining up another!"

Elizabeth forced a smile that did not reach her eyes, "And you refused him of course..."

"Refused him? I did no such thing! How could I refuse a man who has given me so much pleasure and entertainment?"

Elizabeth tried to swallow down her panic, "What did you say to him, Father?"

"Why I told him that upon Charlotte's death you were his. He made me sign an agreement. I hope I signed it correctly for I could hardly see for laughing."

"Father, you didn't! Tell me you jest!"

"Now, now, calm yourself Lizzie. He has a wife, remember. He's just a greedy fellow who doesn't like to concede defeat."

"I hope you are joking, Father." Elizabeth left the library with her father's laughter ringing in her ears, only to be met with a commotion in the hallway. Elizabeth grabbed hold of Lydia and asked what had happened.

"Oh Lord! Master Lucas has just arrived carrying an express for Mr. Collins. Mr. Collins read it, turned pale as a sheet and started weeping like an infant. Mother is comforting him in the front parlour."

Elizabeth dashed into the front parlour to find Mr. Collins crying into a cushion and Mrs. Bennet sitting beside him and smiling joyfully.

"What is it? What has happened?" cried Elizabeth.

"It is your poor friend Charlotte," said Mrs. Bennet trying hard to keep a note of glee out of her voice.

"What? What of Charlotte?" Elizabeth's chest started to pound.

"Why, she went into labour early, gave birth and now, by all accounts, is having a very bad time of it. Not expected to last the night."

"No!" cried Elizabeth.

"The child was still born," said Mrs. Bennet, "which will make it easier for a second wife."

"Mother! How could you say something so wicked?" Elizabeth slowly approached the crying figure. "I'm so very sorry for your loss, Mr. Collins."

Without removing his head from the cushion he grabbed at Elizabeth's hand, "You are all that I have left now, dearest cousin."

"No! No! Do not say such a thing! Charlotte will survive, she is young and strong."

"Not so very young," said Mrs. Bennet.

"Mother!"

"If Charlotte has childbed fever then she will be dead by morning."

"Mother, please stop!" Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears. It was so sad that Charlotte had lost her child but the thought of losing her dear friend was too painful to contemplate.

"Mothers must always be practical," said Mrs. Bennet, "We must always be strong and think positively. We do not have time for romantic notions and niceties. Just think Lizzie, tomorrow you could be engaged to be married! Is it not exciting! Two daughters married! What a delight! And Longbourn safe at last!" Mrs. Bennet clasped her hands in delight. "I have just had a thought, if we arrange the wedding quickly we shall be in time to use the yellow roses from the garden for garlands and posies. What a happy coincidence! It was meant to be! Lizzie, have I not always said that I see you getting married holding yellow roses?"